https://preview.redd.it/wxs9xm7knb1d1.png?width=1140&format=png&auto=webp&s=e54a0e5c3105a47293be0284a119d6379b3fc792
9th: Rise
Rise Route in the original is really good, but her Epilogue is so underwhelming IMO, so sadly, she is ranked the lowest.
8th: Konomi
SEKKUSU ! I will be honest... I never saw Konomi as a suitable love interest for Masaya. I've always seen her as a cute, little sister... The route... is fun... not gonna change my personal view on Konomi but it's serviceable. Also her chanting "Sex ! Sex ! Sex !" alone in her room will always be funny to me. However, the reason why Rise lost in this route is SO STUPID ! Masaya gone back to square one ! The students saw him as the Seductive Serpent, because he's dating a girl who's younger than him... EXCUSE ME ?! Isn't Ritsuko younger than him but somehow Rise still won in Ritsuko's route ?!
7th: Ruriko
The moment Masaya punched Ruriko's fiance in the original, I know Ruriko is gonna be a great love interest. Their dynamic is great, a hard-working, used to be poor, jack of all trade Masaya and rich, kind, naive, Ruriko. Though it sucks that we just know Rise lost in this route with no explaination whatsoever. Overall, a great route, just not as good as others.
6th: Tamie
This route is a great change of pace. With the first chapter dedicated to the "Fun, Lightning" tour, 1,5 chapter dedicated to Tamie regaining her memories, it's an unique route. And her personality grew on me.
5th: Marika
A Romeo and Juliet kind of route. Seeing Marika's true self under a more casual, natural lense... it's such a good feeling, and hey.... this route managed make me stop hating Marika's grandmother and make hate the other students SO MUCH. And I love how Masaya gave the Headmistress a final "F*ck you" before leaving Vincennes.
4th: Mitsuki
The "Enemy-to-Lover" route I originally looked for when I first download the "Princess Evangile" VNs. Mitsuki is definitely really unlikeable in the first 12 chapters of the original, but she redeemed herself. The route is definitely great, seeing her being more confident and... beating Rise is great... in its weird way.
3rd: Ayaka
Ayaka's journey is consistently good, which is great ! Love seeing Ayaka being more mature, Ayaka and Ritsuko somes loves each other more, the Headmistress having a true 180 change and Ayaka's family being so happy at the end... It's just heartwarming.
2nd: Chiho
This... is surprising... I consider Chiho's route the worst in the original... Her epilogue though... it's just so good... Childhood friends is another romance trope that I love beside Enemy-to-Lover... But once you read it, it's just heartwarming, Masaya helping Chiho's family, AND the final scene... They worked it out... all the way... Seeing Masaya now is married and having a beautiful wife and a cute little girl... I sobbed... I did...
1st: Ritsuko
What can I say ? Seeing Ritsuko being so passionate about her relationship with Masaya... plus their wedding scene... it's awesome.
THAT concludes my Princess Evangile journey... NEXT STOP: "THE FRUIT OF GRISAIA !"

The moment a lot of you have been waiting for is here!
A couple of notes before you read (or after because I would just jump into the list right away too)

1. Direct quotes from Ali herself are in italics.
2. I tried my best to keep everything in timeline order. Some people like The Come Back Kid I placed in the order where they reconnected/talked about on the pod. But I did my best to note this.
3. All this information came from the FMH podcast, the Patreon, the original FMH blog, TikTok and other podcast that feature FMH/Ali. I also crossed reference information with this sub. I got most of this done with the help of the Patreon and listening to 1.75x speed but I lost accessed to the Patreon because my subscription ended.
4. I'm open to edits! Things around the matchmaker era confused me and if anything is incorrect or if I'm missing someone, please let me know! I will note where corrections are made.
5. Some people don't have anything simply because only a name was said or I couldn't find any details about the person/date
6. And of course, please be respectful of all the sub rules!

Names on the original FMH blog

• Mr. Adorable aka The Coach
• Trouble
• Waffles
• Future Husband Brian (FHB)
• Cookie
• Peter Pan
• Ambiguous Goodbye Guy
• Bad Bitch Man

AOL chatroom Boyfriend
Mentioned on Tiktok and on the pod once
Myspace Boyfriend
Mentioned on Tiktok
Third Boyfriend
Met on eCrush.com in 2002 and this was mentioned on the Cracked Up podcast, The Dave Glaser Podcast and Tiktok
The Kiwi
Met on a 2 week Model UN type youth trip in high school when Ali was 15, never a boyfriend but she had a huge crush on him, he tried to kiss Ali and she literally ran away, didn’t talk the rest of the trip but exchanged numbers and screen names (Ali’s was FineGal13 or BeachJewel760), she made him a mixtape cd called “Ali’s really cool mix for The Kiwi” but never sent it and she still has it. In 2021, he DM’d her when she posted photos of her and her mom in France and invites her to visit him in London, she says she can’t but says they should catch up if he comes to NYC
Fourth Boyfriend
Met on OkCupid when you had to use it on the computer, this was mentioned on Tiktok
The Homecoming Date or Light Switch
First boyfriend? (she goes back and forth calling him her first bf or a situationship), a family friend, a month younger than Ali, dated in high school but went to different high schools, football player, made him ask her to her Homecoming dance over email (her words), Ali hid in the bathroom the whole Homecoming dance, 3-4 revisits of this situations as adults, saw him on Bumble a few years ago and texted him that he had a typo in his bio, “he very much wanted to be with me” and now he’s married with a kid. His mom is still “obsessed” with Ali and she listens to FMH
Random college guy
Freshman year of college, Ali doesn’t have a nickname for him/doesn’t remember his real name, met this guy through a friend, was texting him to invite him over to hot tub but her phone autocorrected to “how about some hot rubbing tonight?” but Ali didn’t noticed/didn’t correct it and he never replied, Ali had a house party and got really drunk and was all over him, he left the party early, she messaged him on MySpace 3-4 times asking why he left
The Resident
Matched on Match.com, first guy she dated in NYC after college, older than Ali, a doctor, lasted 3 months ”maybe”, he didn’t like Ali’s friends, got a card from him on her birthday and it said “Love, The Resident” and it took Ali back a little, Ali drinks black coffee because of him, he coordinated having her mom visit NYC for her birthday then he broke up with her a week later
The Ghost
Met at a bar when she was 25, turns out they matched on OkCupid and they already had a date scheduled next week, they dated for 6-8 weeks, had sleepovers, “The worst ghosting experience I’ve ever had”, he borrowed The Great Gatsby from Ali’s roommate, planned to make dinner together after a beach trip in August with her friends and never showed up, Ali is blowing up his phone and gets no reply, two weeks later she finally texts “are you alive? check yes or no” and he responds “Yes”, Ali then ask if he could return the book and gets no reply again, 5 months go by and she receives the book in the mail with the note: “Here’s the book back. Sorry. P.S. sorry about last summer. I was in a bad place. You’re a great person and your salmon is amazing”, since then she has ran into him twice on the streets and matched with him on Bumble
The Coach/Mr. Adorable
First serious boyfriend at 26/27 in 2013, matched on Match.com or met through work depending if you’re listening to the pod or reading her OG blog, clean-cut look, played volleyball, Ali invited him to a friend’s birthday party and they made out in the streets at 4am, on their second date he asked Ali if she was seeing any one and when Ali said no he ask her to be his girlfriend 3 days after their first date, dated for almost 1.5 years or almost 2 years depending on if you’re listening to the pod or the Patreon, first time saying “I love you” to a guy, “lovely guy“, never would posted Ali on his instagram until Ali said something, he “lived” with her for two weeks while he was in between apartments, tried blind folding/hair pulling during sex and she didn’t like it, by the end of their relationship Ali didn’t like sex and thought she wasn’t a very sexual person, after they broke up Ali drunk texted him at 2am and he picked her up and she spent the night and she took her things in the morning in a rolly suitcase, from her blog in 2015: “I just want to be careful I don’t end up with another Mr. Adorable situation, where I find myself dating my platonic best friend”, had drinks with him in 2016 from the blog: “Not in a romantic way (at least on my end)”, Ali still talks to him sometimes through casual instagram DMs, he’s currently (as of 2021) dating someone for 4+ years and Ali thinks they’re going to get engaged
Trouble
OG 2015 FMH blog, never mentioned on the pod, “I was immediately enamored with him”, met at a Beer Olympic party but he worked with one of Ali’s best friends (Ali was still dating The Coach at the time), lived in BK, tattoos and stubble, Ali’s best friend said he was a “fuck boy”, “he very much made me see that it was the right thing for me and The Coach to not be together”, from her blog in 2015: “he has this look in his eye like he’s constantly laughing at me – in a super sexy way”, he texted her saying he didn’t see anything romantically with her and she sent a gif of someone shrugging
Personal side note: Ali has mentioned she has cheated on someone but never disclosed who she cheated on or with. I feel like she cheated on Mr.A/The Coach with Trouble because of the timeline. Just a guess.
Waffles
Matched on Bumble, OG 2015 FMH blog, he asked Ali fuck/marry/kill breakfast foods, dated 2 months around summer time, on Fourth of July while watching fireworks he said how they had a great day and Ali replied with something along the lines with “yeah, it would be better if I could call you my boyfriend”, he said he wanted a relationship but just not with Ali and shortly afterwards they stopped seeing each other
The Buffalo
Lived in Buffalo NY, 6’5, Scorpio, met in 2015 at Adults National volleyball (Ali’s team won that year) where he was heckling her while she was playing, asks Ali’s mom for her number and Ali’s mom said “I guess you’re tall enough” and told him to ask her himself, he flew her out and she met his parents, dated over summer, exclusive but never boyfriend/girlfriend (but called him her LD boyfriend on TikTok), texted and talked on the phone a lot, Ali’s best friend’s favorite ex “they had really good banter”, in October he invited her to his cousins wedding and she invited him to her friends wedding, after Ali bought her ticket to his cousins wedding (with the promise he would buy her ticket to her friend’s wedding) he ghosted and stonewalled her, she “poured her heart out to him on voicemail” and he never replied, she asked him to pay her back for her ticket and he got mad that she “made this about money”, 2 years later he told Ali that he freaked out because he really liked her and saw a future with her but knew she would never move to Buffalo and it would “never work”, Ali said at the time she would have considered moving for him, Ali used to have him blocked on Facebook and told all her friends not to update her on info about him (unless she asked). He’s now married and goes to Disney with his wife (which Ali kind of scoffs at?), Ali said on TikTok that she dodged a bullet
Baby Bic
Met him at Adults National years ago, had a flirtationship with him in 2016 when he was 19 years old, ran into him at the Adults Nationals 2021, last texts she got from him were about getting his fake ID taken away at the bar and him visiting her in NYC but Ali didn’t want to buy him beer and drink at her apartment
The Chef
Matched on Tinder around 2016, he loved karaoke, “total shit”, asked Ali to be his girlfriend and to meet his mom after a month, off and on dating, broke up the first time because he was talking to his ex, lied and flew to Mexico to see his ex while dating Ali, that ex sent Ali a Snapchat of them in bed together on that Mexico trip, Ali broke up with him via text and called him a shitty boyfriend, he’s the reason Ali deleted her Snapchat because of drunk Snaps he would send post break up, FB messaged Ali 6 years later (while Roark was visiting/staying with Ali) and said sorry for being a shit head. Ali’s best friends hated him
The Dentist
Met on Halloween in the wild, Canadian, dated NYE 2016- May 2017 “nice guy, not my guy”, one of Ali’s best friend’s favorite ex “he adored you, “he was too sweet for me” and “he had no edge to him”, he painted Ali’s cat for her 30th birthday but she was annoyed it was just Rory and not both cats, The Chef texted Ali while on a date/sleeping at his house
ASV - Aspiring Sober Vegan
Met through a friend (her best guy friend’s college roommate) the day before she had to fly out to her dad’s memorial, a doctor, into meditation, remembered him “being cuter” when they went on a first date, felt “the spark”, had “omg this is awesome sex”, Ali described this relationship as a “slow burn” and “the most attracted she ever been to a partner” even thought she didn’t think he was that cute in the beginning, dated 2-3 months before he tried to ghost Ali but they talked and broke up, four months later they start casually dating/FWB because he’s moving but this turns into a ‘middle distance relationship’ and he moves to Philly, had a lot of communication issues but didn't have a lot of fights, wants to live in Ohio and give a % of his income to charity, Ali was close to saying ‘I love you’ but didn’t, he uninvited her to meet his extended family and they got in a fight, broke up with her a couple weeks before their 6 month anniversary at the park while on a picnic and told her that she’s still his favorite person, Ali used to think he was “the one that got away” and would frequently have dreams about him. From what Ali knows, he's sober but not vegan
The Scientist
2017 or 2018ish, from San Diego, went on one date, Ali ended up ghosting him due to the decline in her dad’s health, saw him on Hinge while she was in San Diego for 3 months in 2020, texted him and apologized for ghosting him, ended up going on 2-3 more dates, took a selfie in front of his house and sent it to him but acted like she didn’t know that was his house and made a TikTok about it, things ended up not working but she doesn’t make it clear on who ended it. She can now see she shouldn’t have been going on dates during this time when her dad was sick.
Good on Paper Divorced Dude
Met a couple of years ago (she told this story on TikTok in 2020) on Bumble
The Groomsman
Met at her friend Ashley’s wedding in Chicago Oct 2019, had a “two night stand” with him, texted/talked/FT’d for 3-4 months, divorced, never dated seriously/FWB, saw each other a couple time when he came to NYC, Ali stopped talking with him due to FMH and her trying to find a serious relationship, he starts dating someone, follows FMH on insta, slid into her DM in 2022 and then sent her soup while she was sick, turns out he’s single again, 2 months later Ali is heading to Chicago and texts him “Hello! Reminder that my arrival to your neck of the woods is imminent” and turns out he is now seeing someone and Ali doesn’t see him while in Chicago (at least she doesn’t mention it)
Unnicknamed person
He was her plus one at her best friend from college’s NYE wedding 2019/2020, met and hung out with Ali’s mom, posted photos of them together on her personal Insta story, “fully dating but weren’t official hehe” doesn’t have a nickname/never gave him a nickname? This could be The Latvian/the person she texted her friend in DC about saying “I think I’m on a date with my husband”

Starts FMH on January 2020 on Instagram/TikTok

The Traveler
He was browsing Bumble while Ali was in the bathroom during their first date, he was banned from Bumble and was using his grandma phone number. Ali turned down a second date
The Duke
Early FMH, went for long periods of time in between texts, 7-8 Zoom dates while Ali was in San Diego and he was in NY, Ali said you could see three of his ex’s on his instagram page (without scrolling), they finally went on one date and it was “meh” but they did kiss on their date
The Oyster
Matched on Bumble (he had one photo and no bio) two weeks before Valentines Day, Gemini, a lawyer, part of the 13 First Dates in 30 Days series (he was #13), dated Feb 2020-Aug 2020, love bomber, felt “the spark” and became official after 3 dates, best first date ever??? at the time, said “I love you” to Ali after two weeks, “For most of my relationship with The Oyster, he didn’t live in the city he had moved to Connecticut without telling me”, would fight all the time, opposite political views, Ali felt like a “fucking summer camp director” because she planned all their dates and he would get upset if Ali didn't have a plan, sought out a therapist (Megan) because of her relationship struggles because of him, went to Mass/church, he wanted a traditional marriage/life/wife/kids (at one point had Ali thinking she wanted that), didn’t want to live in NYC, didn’t support BLM, Cindy hated him
The Pilot
Went on 3 dates, texted a lot, didn’t hear back from him in four days and when she said she was looking to date someone who showed more consistency, he replied saying he met someone the day after their last date who seems to have more free time than Ali and he wants to pursue that but would like to be friends, Ali said on TikTok that this other women “bent her schedule to his schedule” and she was unwilling to do that. Mostly talked about him on TikTok
The Analyst
Matched on Bumble two years ago and went on one date, re matched in 2021 and he stood Ali up, she send him a text “getting stood up” script and he never replied. Only mentioned him on TikTok (?)

Ali and Roark start FMH: The Podcast February 2021

The Boomerang
First date on the pod? I couldn't find anything else about him
The Scuba Diver
The Music Man
One date, “he didn’t do anything wrong, he’s just not for me”, amped up small talk, complimented Ali a lot which made her feel awkward cause she wasn’t feeling it, he texted her and asked for a second date and Ali sent the no ghosting script
The Bet
Uses the phrase “ok bet”, 28 years old shoe designer, only went on one dinner date to a spot he picked, turns out its cash only and he didn’t bring cash, was not into him , not looking for the same thing
The Dinosaur
Nickname was previously The Hawaiian, first date at Dinosaur BBQ, stood in a parking spot to save for Ali, he asked for a kiss after their date and Ali declined saying maybe next time
The Rose
He sent her a rose on hinge, first date was an hour long walk in the park while drinking beer
The Comic
Matched on Hinge, older than Ali (Ali’s friends express how happy they were to hear that), had brunch on their first date (was the first part of a double header but the second guy canceled), listed as “moderate” politically on Hinge, good and easy convo, went back and forth twice over text and then never heard back from him, “technically not ghosting...”
The Camper
Met in the wild at a volleyball tournament in July, lives in Chicago, 27 years old, hung out the whole time, over heard Ali asking someone to get her a make out partner, gave Ali his number, drunkly ask him for a FT date in the future and he didn’t reply, Ali texts him again about a volleyball thing and he replied back with not a lot of enthusiasm, Ali is going to Chicago in Sept for a volleyball tournament and she’s already planning on playing 4-on-4 with her best friend vs. his roommate and maybe The Camper, he texts her saying he has to work on the date of the tournament and won’t be able to do the 4-on-4 game, “I feel like I got broken up with someone I never want to date in the first place”

Ali’s Matchmaker contract starts in August 2021 - 6 matches

The Schmoozer
Went on a dinner date, was chatting up the waitress in a kind of creepy way, was bragging about a lot of things and it turned Ali off and Ali texted him her no ghosting script
The Accountant
1st matchmaker match, 31 years old, lives in BK, his dad has also passed away, easy to talk to, on the third date she wasn’t sure if she saw a future with him and in her gut doesn’t feel like this would be a slow burn, Ali breaks things off with him, months (?) later he sent Ali a 5 min long voice memo and they said they were both down to see each other as friends. He later on dated and ghosted Erica
The Aussie
Matched on Hinge, in politics, from Australia but lived all over the place, asked Ali what she’s looking for on the first date and he said he’s “casually looking for something serious”, Ali accidentally walks up to a different person on their second date, Ali texts him saying she would love to see him before he leaves on a trip and she wasn’t happy that it took him till the next day to reply and he can’t see her before he leaves
The Goalie
Was supposed to be Ali’s 2nd match, he’s a paying client, Ali didn’t hear back from him for a while when she told him where she lived, he wrote to the matchmaker saying that she lived too far away even though it states where she lives in her matchmaker profile
The Journalist
2nd matchmaker match, ended things because she was dating/pursuing things with The Discoball and paused her matchmakers matches

The Threepeat
Matched multiple times on dating apps but this recent time with Hinge, Amazon seller, first date was a pizza lunch date (with bubbles aka champagne) and he gave her a single yellow carnation, talked a lot about her “side hustles” aka her food blog, coaching, FMH and the pod (Ali didn’t mentioned the name on FMH), had an awkward half kiss during the date and then gave her a peck when they said goodbye, he had no night stands by his bed?, spent the night but told public pod they had a movie night, different kissing styles, 6 dates, broke things off with Ali two days before her first date with The Rower WHILE Ali was on a Halloween girls trip
The Rower
Dated from Halloween 2021 till early Feb 2022, Pisces who is 6 days older than Ali, has an ex-fiancé (they dated for 8 years, engaged for two of them, she broke off the engagement with him 1.5 years ago once he started dating Ali), has a shared dog with this ex, slept together around Xmas on the fourth date and Ali got a UTI, first time having “omg this is awesome sex” since ASV, first person Ali slept next to wearing an eye mask "that's a big step for me", had him watch 90 Day Fiancé, on New Years Day told her that he sees “long term relationship potential” with her but doesn’t want to be exclusive after 5 dates, “we didn’t talk all week”, he said he wasn’t as ready as he though to date someone seriously and “I don’t know why I don’t want to be in a relationship with you” they broke up over the phone, Ali said he’s a good human and wants to date someone like him, 3.5 weeks later Ali drunk texted him at 3:00 am saying “its really hard not to talk to you” which Ali said was a lie, he replied back (few days? A week later?) while Ali was on another date and it made her cry a bit, she replied back saying “the door is closed but not locked” in regards if he wants to get back together. “Fin… for now”

2022

The Discoball
Matched on Hinge but didn’t go on a first date for two week, Gemini, used to be a singer in a band, moved from DC to NYC, went on 7 dates in 2022, had a dog w/ ex and ex got full custody once he moved, met one of his friends on the second date, slept with him on the second date “morning and night”, he tried to find the podcast without knowing the name, podcasted from his house in DC, he would send Ali photos of them together “all the time”, gave a virtual presentation from his hotel room, did Molly together in DC, had him watch 90 Day Fiancé, moved to BK (didn’t see each other for 2 months pre-move), had a sex-less sleepover (a milestone for Ali), he showed up for her on her dad’s death date (something that a person she’s dating has never done), used to listen to the pod but stopped before they stopped seeing each other, ghosted her after they had a talk about moving things forward to exclusive and Ali texted him something along the lines of “your silence is the answer” when she didn’t hear back from him for a week and he ghosted her. Ali said he sucks in #77 AUA
Lisbon
The Brit
M&M
The Come Back Kid
They went on 2-3 dates in Nov 2018 and reconnected in May 2022, "felt immediately comfortable", sat next to a very drunk lady on their second 1st date and was supportive but "didn't step on Ali's toes" when the drunk lady said something offensive to Ali, couldn’t remember if they slept together or not, knows about FMH, ghosted Ali
The Trainer
The Cold Brew
The Nomad
3rd matchmaker match, reminded Ali of The Oyster, wanted kids and didn’t want to live in NYC forever, Ali was upset at first because her matchmaker was supposed to screen for that but the matchmaker DID check and it wasn’t mentioned when she was screening The Nomad, no second date because those are dealbreakers to him
The Catcher
Matched on Bumble, “good not great” after their first date, ~April 2022, talked about sports a lot on their first date
The Gentleman
4th matchmaker match, knew about Ali’s FMH socials before their date, Ali didn’t like his texting style, awkward intro on their first date “like hugging a 2 x 4”, he runs a dating event company and actually email Ali to be a guest on the pod when FMH first started, awkward goodbye, didn’t discuss the actual first date on the main pod because she doesn’t want to give him a reason to reach out again
The Tennis Pro
Ali had a good time on their date, “He is an adult, he’s mature” BUT “I don’t think he was into it”
The Padre
Matched on Bumble, 3 dates, from San Diego, “energy mismatch”, doesn’t want to know or listen to FMH, no psychical connection/kiss, only a kiss on the cheek on their last date, “I haven’t spoken to him since Friday night [a week]”, she didn’t want to do what The Threepeat did to her (break up while on vacation/traveling), she said it might be a MOO

Roark leaves and Erica joins the pod Oct 31st 2022

Captain Kirk
5th matchmaker match, found him on Bumble before their in-person date, ghosted Ali AND the matchmaker???
6th matchmaker match
Last match and Ali states she will not talk about this date or anything about it
JFK Kirk?
Matched on Bumble, didn’t realize he’s located in SD, exchanged personal instagram info, not sure where things went or how things ended

Kirk #1
Met in the wild, make out a lot the night they met, “stealing kisses throughout the night”, exchanged numbers, planned a date (no specifics, just the day) but when Ali texted him day of he asked to reschedule (no specifics again), he replied back that he’s picking up a rental car, told him she’s looking for someone to respect her time and he never replied back

2023

The Falcon
First date of 2023, matched on The League, first nickname was “League Kirk”, hard to talk to, felt like Ali was always reaching for the next topic, likes to travel, “there wasn’t a vibe”, MOO
The Roommate
Used to be her friend’s roommate and have met before (Ali doesn’t remember but it was the day after that exclusive convo with The Rower), “totally cute”, reunited at their mutual friend’s engagement party January 2023, made out at the bar, comes back to her place and sleeps over (no sex), Ali questions why her friends never set them up and its because he was taking a break from dating, first date they made out a lot at the bar (again), “I really felt like we were already a couple”, “It didn’t feel like a first date”, mentions her FMH content has popped up on his FYP, tried texting him after their date and he wasn’t giving effort, she’s glad she didn’t sleep with him because “one night stands aren’t my thing”, MOO
The Belgian
Matched on Bumble, accidentally had their first date during a trivia night at a bar, easy to talk to
The Viking
Ali forgot they had a first date on the day of said date
Tinder Man
Matched on Tinder (duh) on Valentine’s Day, first Tinder date in three years, good convo on first date but got a pushy vibe from him at the second bar they went to, put his hand up her sweater and was kissing her in the bar, made Ali uncomfortable and she told him that after he asked her on a second date
The Historian
Matched on Bumble, good conversation on the first date with a wide range of topics like “urban planning and its impact on feminism”, he’s in grad school
The Georgian
Matched on Hinge, he asked if she was free on Friday and she said yes but didn’t hear back from him in two days and in that time she made plans for Friday, rescheduled for a Saturday afternoon date at a dive bar, ate on her way to her date “it would be next level rude to eat on the subway”, good first date, talked about places he wants to take her to
The Publicist
Matched on Tinder, lives in BK, Jewish, one year younger then Ali, good first date, invited him to the Chaotic Singles Party that night, came over to Ali's apartment (which Ali said was messy) before and he made her favorite cocktail for her, a couple of listeners met him at the CSP, goofy and silly convo mixed with deep and serious convos, second date was at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and a tasting menu dinner, he made a Resy reservation and Ali got an email saying she was added to it ”fuck receiving gifts, THAT’S my love language”, he's into words like Ali, he sneezed and Ali said "God bless you" but then corrected herself and said "gesundheit" and he leaned over and kissed her and said he loves that she cares about her words, he met her friends on the third date ”It felt so easy. It felt so comfortable”, her friends took “sneaky” picture and videos of them together which Ali said she loves a sneaky pic, took all their date recap videos on his phone, cooked Ali steak on their fourth date, "it's very comfortable", had him watch 90 Day Fiancé, Ali met two of his friends and some of his teammates he plays a rec sport with, had sex the day they took a trip outside of the city, Erica met him before their trip to Greece and I said “he’s dorky in a good way”, WhatsApp video chatted while in Greece and told her “see you in two days!” at the end of their call, said she felt less anxious about him compared to other relationships while on vacation, sent him a birthday present while she was in Greece, felt an energy shift coming back from vacation and didn’t hear back from him 3 days after she came home, Ali requested a call to talk about this distances she was feeling, ”I did the 12 date rule and it didn’t work!”, she said the distance help her see that they’re not compatible, went on a total of 9 dates. Ali talks about the “break up” on episode 123
Mr. Chaotic
Matched on Tinder but he saw Ali at the Chaotic Singles Party and Cassidy the host is there mutual friend, went to a brewery and played games on their first date (Ali said this was her favorite first dates in episode 147 where they recapped 2023), works in entertainment industry, very high energy, knows about FMH and he said she's entertaining to watch, splits his time between NYC and some unknown city, texted while she was in Greece, ”The man gives good texts”
Random Matchmaker Match
Withdrew his match to Ali because he found her FMH socials. Talked about on #71 AUA
Gone with the Wind
Matchmaker match, said some gross things about women in volleyball outfits on their first date, Ali told her matchmaker about this, ”I would describe him as misogynistic overall”, Ali was glad he did say those weird things so early on so she didn’t waste her time, the matchmaker flagged his account. This was around June 2023
The Rock
Ali knows him from an activity that they used to be involved with in the city (she's very vague about what this is) from 8 years ago, he had a very serious/long term GF when they met, follows her personal Insta, has never talked about him because he’s never been a “prospect”, summer 2023 they met up to catch up and found out that he’s now recently single but he’s moving out of NYC for work, Ali texts Cindy saying she thinks this is a date, Cindy said to tell him that you really want to kiss him, he ends up telling Ali “I really want to kiss you”, made out at the bar, Ali invited him back to her apartment and they had sex the night before Ali ended things with The Publicist, “one night stand vibes” but she said she was down to do it again, Patreon only and talked about on #75 AUA
The Tourist
Matched on Hinge, just moved to Brooklynn, went to a brewery in BK for their first date, Ali showed up to the date dripping in sweat, allergic to cats, he sent Ali a ‘no ghosting’ text the next morning
The Stout
Matched on Bumble, ”we had really great banter right away”, laughed the whole time on their first date, talked about going on a second date during their first date
Speed Racer
Matched on Bumble, drinks first date, axe throwing second date, made out after their second date, MOO, randomly texted Ali ~6 months later because he said one of Ali’s date recap videos about him popped up on his FYP (Ali and Erica think this is a lie), he thought Ali wasn’t into him, he claims he was doing all the work with texting even though there was only a few messages since they exchanged numbers after their second date
Billy Joel
Recently sober, Ali said she felt like they had several inside jokes before they met in person, ate pizza on her way to their first date, second date was getting coffee and going to the museum, they cooked dinner together for their third date at Ali’s apartment and they watched 90 Day Fiancé (he didn’t like it), he Googled how to clean a red wine stain when it spilled on her countertop, he asked if she wanted to have sex and she turned it down, the next day/the day before a 7am flight Ali booty called him and they had sex, she was drunk and said the sex wasn’t good/they stopped mid way, helped Ali pack for her flight, Ali said he’s at a crossroad and he doesn’t seem like a long term fit, Erica found a condom on the ground while cat sitting, Ali said she didn’t regret hooking up with him but wishes she hadn’t done it, MOO
Sales Cycle
30 seconds in and Ali said he was very boring, only really talked about his job, stared at Ali’s boobs, “might be a MOO”, texted her ‘merry christmas’

2024

Pie Guy/Dr. Laundry
Matched on The League, 34 years old, requested a nickname change from Pie Guy to Dr. Laundry, he had to cancel their second date because he got hit by a car, went on two dates, Ali sent him a pic of his subway stop saying something along the lines of “the stop isn’t looking as cute today” and turns out someone he dated with in that photo, were supposed to go on a third date the night she got back from a bachelorette party but he didn't answer her text when she said she landed, the next day he asked her how her trip was not acknowledging her previous text at all, Ali expressed her disappointment and he replied that he was tired last night, she said she would've been understanding if he said something then ghosted her
Andddd I stopped listening to the podcast around the Dr. Pie Laundry Guy but have stayed up to date with everything via this sub.
I have a huge interest in dating culture, human behavior and data similar to Ali and this little project of mine was really interesting once I got the framework of this list. I started this list once I found this sub in December 2023 and started re listening to the Patreon while working out (and lost 10 lbs ayeee) and writing down information in my notes app. I did my best to keep this list unbiased and just give facts and information that was said.
My own thoughts after making this list is that I'm very sad for Ali. I didn't realize the extent of her dating history. I think about my own dating history or even my friends who are in their 30's and dating and Ali's dating lore runs so deep. Is Ali unlucky with love? Did she pass on someone that could have been great for her? How has she had so many dates with little success in a long term partner or even going beyond 6-8 dates? Or is Skyline the person she has been waiting for? What's the pattern with all this dates/men? So many questions.
I truly do hope Ali finds her guy because I believe theres someone for everyone. Until then, I'll be hopping into this sub (cause y'all are too funny and give the best advice) and waiting for Ali to find Mr. Height.
Enjoy and I look forward to everyone thoughts! I'll keep my eye out for any edits that need to be made.
Bonus quotes:
“Longest relationship was a little under a year and a half. Haven’t made it past 6 months with anyone else” - AUA #7 11/27/21
“I spent the first 10+ years of my dating life being sort of perennially single” -1. The Actual First One episode 2/21/21
"I think my parent's story is the reason why I think that I can romantically get back together with an ex and it'll work out" -The Dave Glaser Podcast 4/5/21
“Almost every relationship I’ve ever been in, with a couple of exceptions, started as a situationship.” -21. The Undefined One 7/11/21
“All of my boyfriends have been white” -Ali’s BFF Special on Patreon 4/23/22
“You definitely need an older guy” -Cindy on Ali’s BFF Special on Patreon 4/23/22
“I’ve been on the dating apps since high school. Dating websites at the time” -Ali’s BFF Special on Patreon 4/23/22
“Who would be the perfect man for Ali?”
“Clearly a combination of the The Dentist and [the early stages of] The Buffalo” -Cindy on Ali’s BFF Special on Patreon 4/23/22
“Do you consider The Rower or Disco ball to have been situationships?”
“No, I don't consider either The Rower or The Disco Ball to be situationships” -question asked on TikTok 11/9/22

Hey all, 4th Wall here. The little storm that blew threw upended my, sort of, schedule. So, I'm just decided to write what came to mind first then alternate from there. Hope you guys enjoy the Episode.
First, Previous, Next (Patreon)
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Benjamin stared at the exhausted looking Farie in shock, “How much time do we have?”. Jukha simply stood, stepped over to the floorboards near the fireplace, and began ripping them up with his bare hands. After several planks yielded to his strength, Jukha pulled out a pair of packs, and handed one to Vilora. “Oh” Ben stated flatly, having been given the answer to his question. He turned to see the sisters already packing up their packs, and Ben began the same.

In moments, the four were ready to go, slipping out the back door and into the forest. Benjamin paused, “Hold on a moment.” He turned to look back at the house, reaching out with one hand before clenching it into a fist. He ripped the heat out of the roaring fire dispelling it into the air before kneeling down and placing both hands on the ground. Vilora gasped quietly at the power Benjamin began wielding a dangerous amount of Majik. He pulled from the depths of the world itself, summoning pure compounds from the ground and from various natural sources. He used the refuse in Jukha’s farmyard to provide him with the last of the required ingredients. It wouldn’t be much, but Benjamin relit the fireplace, forcing the flames to turn a few of the remaining logs into charcoal without burning them.
Extinguishing the flames once more, he combined the components he had acquired, before willing the concoction up into the flue and packing it around the circumference of the inside of the brick chimney. Vilora stepped up to him, touching his shoulder with a trembling hand, “What… what have you done. I felt it, but I don’t understand it.”
Benjamin took a long cleansing, and slightly shakey breath. The exertion left him feeling drained for a moment. He turned to her, expression was grim, but he patted her hand on his forearm, “Giving us some breathing room. They will search the house. I’ve just left them a little surprise.” He stood, looking towards the forest, “how do we get to your sisters.”

Vilora nodded and they followed her into the forest, it was not a long walk. And after about 20 minutes they came to a clearing with a strange tree in the middle. “Please, Ben. Whatever happens next, know that we are not Fay. Promise me.” Benjamin heard the fear in her voice wondering if it was from what he had just done, or something deeper. He nodded once absently, his musket already unslung and in his hands. He had loaded a buck and ball cartridge into it before they left the cabin, knowing that he was only going to get one shot in an ambush. Viola had his original flintlock pistol in her hand, and Valtrya was semi hiding behind her sister with Bens Stiletto dagger clutched tightly in her fingers. “Very well,” the Farie stated, and turned to face the tree. Her wings quickly began glowing a vibrant green, and they fluttered violently as she began to chant something in her native tongue.

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The Hunters arrived, led by the singular Orc from the capital guard. He was the same one that had been spared by Benjamin just over a week earlier. He brought with him a tracker. Ski’murika was one of the arachnid people known as Sil’skira. This one was a flat grey to Mi’ki’s own jet-black carapace, and she skittered lightly into the room. The Sil’Skira had no sense of smell, but their sense of taste bordered on the supernatural. She raised one leg to her mandibles, tasting the ground around them, before dipping it into a bowl and repeating the process, “four of them. An Orc, a Fay, two Aereesin females, and… a strange one. I’ve not sampled this one before, but he carries majik’s sour aftertaste.” The Soldier orc, and the three other Hunters managed to not cringe. The Sil’Skira were known for their wide… pallet… as far as what they considered food. Many a sentient being had been turned to a husk by a hungry Sil, and The Orc did not doubt that this one came by her… flavor recognition… honestly. The other three; a Hellirine named Jazeel, her twin brother named Jeraal, and a Mountain troll who’s name defied pronunciation gave the Sil a wide birth, stepping up to the fireplace. “Well, while we’re here. Lets warm our bones.” Jazeel casually began stacking wood and kindling atop the chared remains of an apparently freshly quenched fire. “How far do you think they could have gone?”

“Not far” the Sil’Skira stated absently, “Their food is but lukewarm. I can still taste the spittle on the strange one’s spoon.” She turned to pad over to the fireplace. The Soldier orc, named Gurrut leaned up against the table, “Should we really be stopping for a fire? If they are so close?” Jeraal only smirked, “It’s a long game boss. They may not have gotten far, but they will be frantic. Look at how they left. Something, or someone warned them. They will be ill prepared. No, better to keep our pace. We will wear them down easily in the mor..”

Jazeel lit a spark into her tinder box while her brother was talking. She placed it into the fireplace and the kindling lit quickly. A single twig flared up, sending an ember into the flu where Benjamin had packed his quickly made gunpowder. It ignited instantly, and the flu provided enough constriction to pressurize the reaction. The fireplace detonated in a weak, but effective improvised bomb. The brickwork shattered into shards of deadly fragmentation, Jareel simply ceased to exist, being turned to a cloud of yellow blood and internal organs trimmed in red skin and white bone fragments. Her brother’s head was caved in by a large brick chunk, sending skull bone spalling deep into his brain, rending it to ribbons. He died before he hit the floor. The Sil’Skira’s abdomen popped like a balloon in the over pressure wave, and she quickly curled into a quivering ball as her blood pressure dropped, no longer fighting against her leg muscles. Their employer, the soldier orc from the capital, lost his arm above the elbow. His armor saved his vital organs however, but one shard threaded the needle, taking his right eye. The Mountain troll was thrown to the far wall, but Her naturally resilient body survived both the shockwave and the fragmentation impacts. She picked herself off the floor, stumbling to the screaming capital guard. She bound his wounds quickly before taking a flaming shard of the sabotaged fire and searing the stump to stop the bleeding. She then left him there. There was no point in anything else. The hunt was over.

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Benjamin tried not to stare, but he was failing miserably. Jukha’s Farie wife’s body was glowing bright green now, and he almost had to shade his eyes if he tried to look directly at her. She was not the only one he was struggling not to stare at. Viola’s explanation and subsequent revelation had taken him by surprise. He realized that he had treated them like children, pupils at best. Benjamin had focused on training them to be free, turning a blind eye to the relationship forming between them and himself. *You are not forcing us to do anything but leave* He ran that statement over in his mind. The “leave you” was implicated heavily, and it ate at him. He did not want to force these girls to do anything. Yet, despite his best efforts, he was forcing something on them anyway. He silently both cursed his situation and cursed his own ignorance. He found that, if he was truthful with himself, he did not want them to leave either; and that more personal revelation brought its own paradox. He could not bear to own them as property, but the thought of leaving them tore at him with similar pain.

“It is almost time!” Benjamin looked back from where he was keeping watch, Vilora was panting heavily, her painfully bright glowing wings drooping slightly, “I won’t be able to keep the connection for long!” She called as the tree in front of them began to creak. Two of its great limbs began to move on their own accord, groaning under forces older than space and time. Benjamin’s eyes widened as the two branches slowly formed a sphere, then his head snapped around at the sound of a dull thud emanating from the direction they had come. He smiled grimly. His little IED must have been triggered, and with any luck, taken their pursuers with it.

“Ready yourselves!” Jukha called, and Ben turned back to a view he had not expected in his wildest dreams. ‘you’ve gatta be shitting me’ He thought as a rippling green mirror filled in the center of the circle created by the branches of the tree. Benjamin felt the sisters at his side. And he nodded to them, “you first. I’ll cover our six.” Vi raised an eyebrow at the odd expression but nodded. Taking her sister’s hand and stepping through the portal. They were closely followed by Jukha, who seemed absurdly calm about the whole thing. Benjamin held his ground, slowly backing toward the portal while he kept his eye on the tree line.

“Benjamin. Hurry, I can’t.. I can’t hold!” Vilora’s frantic tone moved Benjamin into action, He spun on his heels, slipping his musket to his left hand and scooping up Vilora as he passed her at a full sprint. He jumped as the portal sputtered, passing through it and into a familiar tunnel that he remembered from his first meeting with the Celestial, Sol. This one was a minute fraction of the distance, however, a single step in fact. His feet landed on soft moss and an earthy smell alerted him to his change of location. His eyes began to adjust to the much dimmer light as he set Vilora’s exhausted form on the ground gently. His eyes peeled away the darkness after a moment and Benjamin grunted, tucking the butt of the musket under his right arm as he thumbed the hammer and slapped the frizzen in place. He drew his sword/pistol hybrid and settled the sights on a second being, who just so happened to have the misfortune of being ordered to bind the sister’s wrists. The mechanical sounds of his weapons attracted the attention of everyone in attendance, but his voice froze them in place, “unbind them… now” he growled.
His musket, loaded with Buck and ball, was trained on a small group of Farie’s standing in close formation with thin lances rested base to the on the ground. The other Farie was currently holding the rope leash to the sisters. He glanced at the small squad of lancers, “you move, you die.” His tone bore icy promise on its wings, and even Jukha could not bring himself to act. “Benjamin. Peace, please. These are my sisters. They are Vin. Remember your promise” Vilora’s voice cut through the silence first, and Benjamin glanced at her, then back at the scene in front of him. He took a long deep breath, sheathing his sword/revolver, and lowering his Musket. He did not sling it, he returned it so a muzzle up ready position designed to keep his ammunition from falling out of the barrel should he still need it. “Then please explain to them that I have a pathological aversion these women being bound, and that It would be in their best interest to release them...mediately.” Vilora’s eyes widened as she turned to see the state of Vi and Val. She spoke quickly, and the Vin who held the girls looked back at Ben in shock before frantically unbinding both Vi and Val. The girls sprinted to Benjamin, slamming into him with shaking embraces before he gently, but protectively pushed them behind him.

One of the Lancers, a Farie with more ornate armor on than the rest stepped forward and Benjamin turned to face her, not so subtly settling his musket into a position to easily kill her if he needed. The Fairie paused, clearly considering something before Vilora stepped over and laid a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head at the other woman, it was an almost imperceptible thing, but the other farie’s eyes widened as she regarded Benjamin again. “Peace, Beenjaymin.” She said finally, handing off her lance to a subordinate and opening her hands to show them empty. “We do not mean you harm, but we must protect what little we have left. The Matriarch wishes to see you, but we cannot allow you to meet here bearing arms. Please, understand.”

Benjamin hesitated, and Viola leaned around him to look up. He gave her a smiling glance before looking back at the Farie. She nodded in understanding, “I swear to you. Your… girls… will be permitted to stay at your side for the trip. Our sister has explained that they are not mere slaves to you.” Benjamin eyed her skeptically, and if this realms concept of honesty were not already explained to him, he would have not believed her. He slowly reached for the hammer on his musket, lowering it gently to half-cock before handing it slowly to the Farie who originally bound the sisters, “Do not touch anything on it. This is not a weapon you have any concept of, and it can kill 4 people at once.” He held her gaze until she nodded, “lean it against something. This side up, and DON’T touch it.” He then unhooked the scabbard from his belt, handing the revolver sword and its sheath to her as one unit, “Same goes for this. I’ll know if you touch it. It is very loud.” He did the same with Vi’s flintlock pistol, surprised that it didn’t go off when it was dropped on the ground during their capture. The stiletto dagger was the last, a familiar weapon to this realm that needed no explanation.

“Very well.” Benjamin said finally, “I believe that is everything.” The head lancer nodded, waving an arm elegantly toward the biggest live oak that Benjamin had ever seen. Benjamin thought it might be a live oak, at least. It stood twice the height of a California Red Wood but had the proportions of a Live oak. Massive drooping main branches arched overhead before touching the ground and returning skyward. Some of the largest limbs were the lowest and seem to bounce along the ground. Each grounding seemed to sprout smaller trees, and Benjamin felt his mouth fall open as they drew closer. The texture of the limbs sharpened as they closed, and Benjamin began to make out lit windows, carved into the tree limbs themselves.

Carved into the base of the tree was an ornate entrance with lettering that Benjamin didn’t recognize carved into the arches. Benjamin felt Viola take one of his hands, and Valtrya take the other. He ran his thumbs over the soft tops of their hands, trying to comfort them as much as he could. He felt them press up against him as they entered a throne room of some kind. On the far end, atop a series of steps was a throne, carved into the wall itself. “The Matriarch” Vilora whispered from behind him.

Ben halted several paces behind the lancer squad, bowing as he watched Vilora and Jukha do so out of the corner of his eye. “Rise” came the command from the ornately yet unarmored Farie sitting on the throne, “So tell me,” She asked, looking directly at Benjamin, who was keeping the girls directly behind him, “Are you the reason that my orders to bind the Aereesins were not followed?” Benjamin instantly regretted giving up his weapons. “I am,” he stated meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “Oh? You believe yourself above my command?” Her cold tone registered, and Benjamin slowly closed his fist, finding what he was looking for. A single guard, one not present at their arrival began to march toward him, hand on her sword.

Benjamin speared the guard with an icy glare, while talking to the Farie ruler, “I expected Vin to be more hospitable.” He reached out with one hand and the guard froze as he gripped the metal of her armor with his mind, “Especially with women baring Vin names in solidarity.” He slowly began to close his outstretched fist, and the guard inside the armor began screaming as the metal buckled, compressing against her body. Benjamin finally turned his icy gaze to the monarch, “My girls” He hated to use that card, but it was the only one he had that wasn’t lethal, “Have spent over a century being bound, tortured, raped, and degraded. I killed their former master, a Romoregin no less, for it. I killed his puke son’s champion for it. I’ve killed two capital guards for it. I will kill without mercy to keep bindings from touching their skin. So, my lady what are you willing to do to bind them.” He gave the guards armor another small squeeze, using the shrieking metal to punctuate his resolve.

The queen slowly stepped off her Throne, walking stoically over to her guard as she eyed Benjamin contemplatively. “Stand down, Vailin.” She said to the now trembling guard, but her eyes were on Benjamin. Benjamin slowly released his grip on her armor and she fell to the floor, weeping. “You two, get her to a healer.” The monarch ordered before taking to her wings and hovering up to face Benjamin at eye level. “You care so much for your slaves, yet you do not free them. Why is that.”

“Benjamin doesn’t want to keep us slaves!” Viola blurted out before she caught herself meekly adding “Your majesty” as the Monarch leveled a surprised but firm expression at her. “Oh? And yet you are still his, dear.” she said, turning back to Benjamin. Benjamin took a deep breath, “The principality would have resold them anyway. My only choice was to own them, teach them, then smuggle them to a free nation, or murder them by returning them to the system. Had we made it to Maridia, they would be emancipated already.” He met the Monarchs gaze levelly, “Their lives are in my hands… but at least their blood isn’t on them.”

“Hmm, compassion and violence of action. No wonder Cosmos touched you.” The Queen mused. Benjamin chuckled at the expression drawing a raised eyebrow from the Vin Monarch, “Something funny, young one?” and Benjamin gave her an amused smile, “It’s just that I’ve heard something like that before, from Sol. I believe the Orcs call her Suelin.”

This time, the Vin Monarch’s face smoothed of all expression as she failed to find any falsehood in Benjamin, “Come with me, please.” She stated it as a question, but her urgency peaked Benjamin's curiosity. The four of them followed the queen up to the throne. She pulled on an armrest and the throne slid into the wall to one side, revealing a simply carved passage into the heart of the tree.
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f you made it this far, I very much appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed the episode! If you believe I have earned it, I have a Patreon that is two episodes ahead of the free releases for this series. I hope you feel taking a look is worth it. Either way, come hang out in the comments. Everyone's welcome! I've discovered Im a bit of a "warts and all" poster, so even critical comments are welcome. Hell, You might even teach me something (it happens more than I'd like to admit).
I have heard people off and on reference Royal road, So I am going to give it another shot. I'll be adding the Royal Road link from now on. If you like reading over there, It is on the same schedule as here. I would greatly appreciate a like/review/comment if you feel so inclined. Thank you again for stopping by.
First, Previous, Next (Patreon) Royal Road

Over these past 7 months, we have witnessed some of the worst atrocities of the 21st century committed by the IDF. 45,000+ killed, 77,000+ injured, 2 million people effectively homeless, and 60%+ of all the buildings in gaza damaged/destroyed. We have seen IDF shoot civilians raising white flags, bomb places they instruct civilians to go, block the aid causing mass starvation in gaza, imprison children and civilians and send them to torture camps, use AI to bomb hamas fighters when they get home so they can kill their families too, they aren't even targetting hamas anymore in their bombings but rather civilians, and a lot lot more. What has been made clear now is that this isn't really about Hamas, as they have shown time and time again to be intentionally brining harm to the civilian population.
Their constant justification for all these atrocities is the october 7th attack. however since day 1, it was always suspicous as to how israel could've let hamas in so easilly and why they took so long to surpress them. Isreal is one of the most surveilled and secure countries in the world, it really makes no sense how one can just paraglide into a place that is so secure, and easilly land. In the time since October 7th, a plethora of information has come out that brings even more cause for suspicious on isreal's part for their supposed "big security failure" that I will be going over.
I want to start by mentioning this stunt by Netanyahu a few weeks before 10/7 at the UN.
a popular talking point from the pro isrealis is how the "river to the sea" chant is genocidal. well if that is true, doesn't that mean isreal's democratically elected leader also issued a statement of genocide before 10/7 even happened? I am not seeing Palestine on that map at all. Doesn't look like palestine's existance is a part of bibi's plan at all. I also see Gaza as part of isreal, by the looks of things, he wants that strip of land too.
to start, research has shown that there was rise in short selling of isreali stocks on the New York and Tel Aviv Stock exchanges in the week prior to 10/7. these investors were said to have made millions betting against isreali stocks.
https://www.peoplesworld.org/article/someone-knew-stock-traders-made-millions-short-selling-before-oct-7th-hamas-attacks/
https://www.economist.com/finance-and-economics/2023/12/05/did-hamas-make-millions-trading-the-october-7th-attacks
https://www.cbsnews.com/news/israel-hamas-attack-stocks-short-selling-october-7-study/
So someone had to be in the know. you might say it was hamas who did the short selling, but since all of hamas are designated terrorists in the eyes of the US, all their assets in the US will be frozen making it almost impossible to invest in the stock market. What is more likely is that some higher up/rich/elite americans and isrealis knew what was going down and wanted to make a quick buck.
Furthermore, new york times reported that isreal had the exact plans to 10/7a year in advance. It was an indepth, 40 page report on what hamas was going to do (and they did it exactly on 10/7). one of the officials they interviewed said it was "inspirational," but considering the rest of the evidence i gave, this is likely just him bluffing
The article also delves into how isreal knew hamas was preparing for the attack. additionally, in this BBC report, the women tasked with reporting any suspicious activity in gaza. When they did so they were "ignored" by the higher ups. hamas were clearly and visibly rehearsing hostage taking, raiding, and detonating the gaza fence. The main comeback I get from pro isreal people when I tell them that isreal knew about 10/7, is something like "isreal always get warnings of an attack". However I highly doubt the things mentioned in the BBC report are common occurences.
What's more is that Hamas literally were posting their rehersals on their telegram. They literally made zero effort in hiding what they were planning on doing. What I also find funny is that isreal wasn't able to notice when they post on telegram for these rehearsals, but when they post on telegram about their killings on 10/7, they immediately take notice to that, and already have everything up on "hamas.com" by the end of the day. just strange.
Moreover, isreal literallyconfiscated weapons from towns by the gaza border and significantly weakened their security. What other excuse could possibly be plausible for this besides wanting hamas to have an easier time taking over these places? "The Israeli army believed that the chance of terrorist incursion after the erection of the border fence was 'close to nil.'". funny...
Isreal also reportedly had information that the festival would be under attack but they chose not to relay this to the festival organizers or to evacuate it at all.
Now this is a good read from Times of Israel. Apparently, IDF and Shin Bet were well aware Hamas were planning a big attack for over a year and even had a presentation about it, and even said “This invasion constitutes the gravest threat that IDF forces are facing in the defense [of Israel].”. I also hear pro isreal ppl tell me that isreal didn't think hamas were capable of 10/7, well this presentaion mentioned would refute that point.
Furthermore, on October 6th and early 7th, they were detecting hamas activity and there was evidence to suggest an assault was imminent. Yet they did nothing and only took more secuirty away from gaza.
At midnight on October 7th, 6 hours before the attack even started, IDF detected numerous Hamas fighters active israeli SIMs. While this by itself may not be as suspicous, when you corroborate it with everything else, it should be easilly apparent to isreali intel what is about to happen
In the hour leading up to the attack, israel detected lots of unusual hamas activity, but didn't even put any of the troops by the gaza wall on alert, not even level one. This is especially odd since this deviates from normal military protocol. as a result, the hamas soldiers stormed all 12 idf bases by the border. the footage shows them storming empty looking bases and shooting idf soliders in their beds (they weren't even woken up??). and most of the tanks weren't even being operated. hamas was expecting to lose 80% of thier attack force taking these bases, but ended up losing barely anyone.
This new york times report is also interesting. In it, it further reiterates that isreali intel was picking up plenty of hamas activity in the hours before the attack even started. And that while it took 8+ hours for any of the civillians to receive any help by the IDF. This in it of itself is extremely suspicious, but even more so when you add the fact that the IDF literally tweeted militants had broken in just an hour into the attack. What is also interesting is that it took only 4 hours to send jets to bomb Gaza, yet they couldn't spare any apaches to help their own ppl in that same time? I also find it suspicious how "Israeli officials declined to answer questions about the timing of their response to the attacks."
I suppose after all this you are going to tell me something along the lines of "IDF just underestimated Hamas". But with all these intel reports they were getting, I just find that to be a little far fetched. But just watchthis video on the gaza fence. $1 billion dollars into this wall covered in state of the art cameras, sensors, and turrets, but it wasn't enough to stop a paraglider? Now do you understand where I am coming from?
If you are still not conviced, isreal were literally the ones who helped started hamas, and netanyahu openly admitted to propping them up, and isreal literally funded hamas too. its apparent that hamas was a sort of proxy for isreal, to justify their attacks onto gaza.
It was just the opportunity Israel was waiting so they could have an excuse to the world for their horrific genocide of gaza that has already killed more than 2% of all their people. They made up all these lies about beheaded babies, babies in ovens, and babies ripped out of wombs (seriously what is it with them and babies) and the western media ate it all up. They pulled out in 2005, because they thought protecting those 9,000 illegal settlers was more trouble than it was worth, and they preferred controlling gaza from the outside, but now they plan to drive the gazan population out, so they can harvest tha gas, create the canal, and build new settlements with even more settlers. already they are establishing a permanent base with reason to believe they will bring civilians there to resettle as well
Anyway, saying this was all a big "security failure" just seems far fetched to me considering their vast resources and the reports I cited in this post. But is something that isreali general Amos Yadlin said in 2007,
“Israel would be happy if Hamas took over Gaza because the IDF could then deal with Gaza as a hostile state.”
October 7th allowed them to do just that: treat gaza as a hostile state
I will conclude this post by quoting Douglas Murray, who is ironically a staunch pro isreal supporter: "Simply claiming something is a conspiracy theory, doesn't necessarily make it false. Not anymore"

The next afternoon, Kokichi and Himiko wished each other luck before Kokichi went off to his own stand. Himiko set her table up and placed her cookies down. Kokichi suggested making two batches of each comedy Snoozdoodles, just in case.

"HIMIKO!!" Himiko's head shot up to see Ibuki above her rushing out of the school, followed by Himiko's other previous customers.
"Nyeh! You guys are already here?!" Himiko gasped.

"We just plainly couldn't wait to buy more of your cookies, Himiko!" Tsumugi said.
"Yeah, I had to admit, they were pretty good," Fuyuhiko admitted. "And I had a pretty cool dream after eating mine."
"As did I," Peko said.

"Yes! They were absolutely wonderful, Himiko!" Sonia said. "I adored my dream!"
"Meeeeee, tooooooo!!" Ibuki shouted.
"I want to be the first one to buy your cookies, Himiko!" Tenko cried. Kaito shoved her out of the way.
"No way! Me, first!" he said. Miu stepped on his foot, causing Kaito to cry out in pain.

"Outta the way, rocket man!" she spat. Everyone began arguing with each other about who was going to buy the cookies first.
"H-Heeey!!" Himiko screamed. Everyone went silent and turned to her. "U-Um...it doesn't matter who goes first, cuz...you'll each be able to get a cookie, okay? Now, please form a single file line. Fuyuhiko, you can go first."
"Awww, why a degenerate male?" Tenko whined. "Why can't it be meeee?"
"Tenko!" Himiko snapped sternly. Tenko abashedly hung her head and stood in line in front of the first boy after Fuyuhiko, which was Kaito. "Hmph!" Tenko flicked her braid at him. The line grew shorter as each customer bought a cookie, until Ibuki remained.
"I'm gonna tell everyone about your cookies, Himiko!" Ibuki said. "I can't wait to try these before I go to sleep!"
"I've already told lots of people about Himiko's Snoozydoodles!" Angie chimed in.
"Yeah, me, too!" Tenko said. "I told more people than Angie did!"
"It looks like you've got a busy day ahead of you," Maki said, eyeing a bunch of students heading towards Himiko's direction. Himiko braced herself.

"Hey, Himiko, I heard your cookies were pretty good," Makoto said. "Can I buy one?"
"I suppose I shall try one, too, just to see what the big deal is," Byakuya sighed reluctantly.

"I hear these mystical cookies give you the power of...pleasant dreams, yes?" Gundham asked.
"Nyeh...that's right," Himiko replied. "But, it's very important that you eat these cookies before you go to bed."
"That s-sounds very i-interesting," Mikan admitted.
"Hell, yeah! I could use a good, fuckin' dream!" Mondo agreed. "Hadn't had one in a while!"
"Well, I think it's suspicious," Byakuya said, eyeing Himiko with suspicion. "How are you able to bake cookies that give you good dreams after eating them?" Himiko felt her heart drop. She couldn't tell everyone about her magic, of course.
"I-It's an old family secret recipe, I guess," Himiko lied, trying to remain calm. "My grammy used to bake these cookies for me whenever I had nightmares, and so I decided to use her recipe to see if it would work on you guys, too."
"Tuh...such nonsense," Byakuya scoffed. Nevertheless, he took one of her Snoozydoodles and examined it. "I don't usually believe in foolishness like that, but I must admit, I am curious."
"So, hurry up and buy one already!" Kazuichi cried. "We wanna buy one, too, y'know!"
"Lowlife scum like you have no business pushing me around," Byakuya said. He then turned to Himiko to pay for his cookie. Himiko handed him a baggie for his Snoozydoodle. Without a word, Byakuya slipped the cookie inside and walked away.
"Finally!" Kazuichi picked a cookie, then paid. Next was Celeste, then Mondo, Kyoko, Makoto, Taka, Toko, Hifumi, Sakura, Chiaki, Hajime, Mikan, Nagito, and Kiyo. It was as if Himiko had struck gold. Her heart beat with excitement as she counted her money. It was the most money she'd ever made. She felt proud of herself.
"I'm actually excited about this!" Makoto admitted.

"You guys won't regret it! It's gonna be way cool!" Ibuki said.
"But, do we seriously have to eat this before bed?" Taka asked. "I brush before bed, and I don't think I should be eating cookies before bedtime! It's just not right!"
"You have to eat it before bed," Himiko insisted.
"C'mon, bro, it's just one cookie for just one night," Mondo said. "Don't be so wound up tight about it." Taka sighed and shrugged his shoulders reluctantly.
"Well, if those are Himiko's rules, I guess I should follow them," he muttered.
***
Later that afternoon, Himiko let out a happy sigh. She had managed to sell most of her cookies, save about ten, or so, and earned a total of ¥25,000. Even the others who were selling cookies went to her to buy some for themselves.
"Monkey Buns! That's a whole lot of cash!" Kokichi exclaimed, walking down Hope's Peak's front entrance stairs. Himiko smiled big at him.
"Nyeeeh...I sold lots of cookies today!" she said as Kokichi sauntered over to her.
"Nee-heehee...I can see that!" he said, proudly eyeing Himiko's nearly empty trays. "Bravo, Himiko!" He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "How does it feel?" Himiko flushed with pride.
"It feels good," she said shyly. "Thank you for not letting me give up on myself, Kokichi."

"I'm there for ya, babe," Kokichi replied with a wink.
***

Later that night, Himiko and Tenko were getting ready for bed. Tenko slipped under her pink blanket and reached for the baggie with the Snoozydoodle inside.
"I'm ready to eat your Snoozydoodle, Himiko!" she said. Himiko nodded to her. Tenko ate her cookie. "Mmph, dewicious!" she muffled. It wasn't long before she finished the cookie. Her eyelids began to droop. "That...was...so...so...del...ciou...sssss..." Tenko hit her pillow and snored deeply. She was out like a light, which reminded Himiko that she needed to turn their bedroom light off. As soon as Himiko stood up from her bed, she felt something wrap around her ankle.
"NYEEEEHHHH!!!" she screamed, jumping and flapping her hands around wildly. She looked down to see Kokichi laughing and crawling from underneath the bed, his hand still wrapped around her ankle. Himiko swatted his head.

"You idiot!! What are you doing down there?!" she hissed. "You scared the life outta me!!"

"Hahahahahaaa...I just wanted to see...a-hahahahaha...the effects of your Snoozydoodle...hahahaha...on Tenko," Kokichi said, still wheezing with laughter. He stood up and wiped a tear from his eye. "Phew! Man, that was funny!" Himiko swatted his arm.
"You're a doofus, Kokichi," she grumbled.
"Yeeaaahhh..." Kokichi said with a content sigh. "So, when should the Snoozydoodle take effect?" Before Himiko could respond, Tenko suddenly burst into laughter in her sleep. Kokichi and Himiko exchanged amused grins.
"Kirumi...smacked Kaito...with her broom...!" Tenko laughed.

"Slapstick comedy dream," Kokichi and Himiko said to each other simultaneously with sly grins. They watched for a bit longer as Tenko continued to laugh out loud while dreaming.
Part Fourteen
Himiko was just as successful Sunday afternoon with her Snoozydoodle sale. The word about her cookies had spread that nearly everyone from Hope's Peak lined up to try them, even her enemies, like Junko and Leon. The following Monday, Himiko woke up to get ready for school, when she noticed something absolutely creepy. As she turned her alarm off, she realized that everyone in Casa V3, except Kokichi, was in her room, staring at her in eerie silence.
"Nyeeeh...w-what's...going on?" Himiko murmured apprehensively.
"W-W-We...want more cookies," Tenko said in a jittery voice. "P-P-Please...Hi-Hi-Himiko?" She and the others were flinching and trembling, as if they were going through withdrawal.
"Um...no more cookies for now," Himiko said in a small voice. "It's Monday, after all."

"WHO CARES?!" Miu snapped irritably. "GO IN THAT KITCHEN AND MAKE US SOME MORE DAMN SNOOZY DOO-DOO'S, OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU CALL 'EM, ALREADY!!" She started moaning and groping herself. "Ah-haaaah...my b-b-body...needs...m-m-more!! Hahahahaaa!" Himiko cringed.
"Um...I think you guys have had enough..." she said.
"Well, I say we haven't! So, hurry the hell up, Himiko!" Kaito demanded angrily. The others surrounded Himiko even closer.
"It's not cool to make us wait," Ryoma said, his eye twitching.
"Do you wanna die?" Maki threatened in a low voice, reaching at Himiko's throat. Himiko shook her head fearfully. "Then, make us more Snoozydoodles...now." Everyone then began chanting monotonously in an unsettling manner.
"Snoozydoodles...Snoozydoodles...Snoozydoodles...Snoozydoodles...Snoozydoodles..." they chanted as they closed in on Himiko. Himiko huddled closer to the wall, covering herself with her blanket.
"KOKICHIIIIII!!!" she screamed over the loud, repetitive chanting.
"Move it! Get out of the way!" came Kokichi's voice as he barged through the students grabbing at Himiko. Squeezing in between Kirumi and Rantaro, Kokichi held his arms out to Himiko. "Himiko! Grab on!" Himiko reached out and grabbed Kokichi's hands. He pulled her through the crowd, still grabbing at Himiko. Gonta grabbed Himiko's ankles before she and Kokichi could escape. Himiko squeaked with fear as she and Kokichi looked at him. His expression was blank, cold, and uncaring, very much unlike his usual cheerful and warm demeanor.
"Gonta no can let you leave, Himiko," he growled as he grabbed Himiko's ankles tighter. Himiko yelped in pain.
"Let her go!!" Kokichi demanded. He leaned forward and bit Gonta's hand as hard as he could. Gonta reeled back in pain, releasing Himiko from his grip. Kokichi managed to pull Himiko away from the crowd. He led her down the stairs. Himiko cried out in pain on the way down. Her ankles still hurt. Kokichi scooped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way down the stairs. The others were pursuing them like an angry mob. Kokichi opened the door to Casa V3 and ran outside, still carrying Himiko. He carried her all the way to Hope's Peak.
"It won't be long before they find us here," Kokichi said, gently placing Himiko down. "Can you walk?" Himiko took a few steps. Most of the pain was gone, but she felt that she was able to manage.
"Yeah...I'm good," she said with a nod.

"So, they're now addicted to your cookies, huh?" Kokichi said. Himiko sighed and plopped herself on the floor.

"Yeah..." she muttered. "I guess even mixed with other ingredients, the dream powder is too much."
"I guess it was a smart move for me not to eat those cookies," Kokichi said. Himiko nodded in agreement. She loved Kokichi sane, and wanted him to stay that way. Kokichi tapped his chin in thought. "So, how do we get out of this one, Monkey Buns?" Himiko sighed heavily.
"I don't know..." she mumbled with a despondent shrug. "It's not easy erasing the effects of the dream powder."
"Wow...so, everyone's gonna be a Snoozydoodle addict from now on," Kokichi sighed. "Geez, what a nightmare!" Himiko suddenly perked up. She looked at Kokichi.
"Nyeh...what did you say?!" she exclaimed.
"Hm? I said everyone's going to be addicted to your Snoozydoodles from now on...what a nightmare," Kokichi repeated. Himiko broke out into a huge smile.
"Th-That's it!" she cried. "I know how to-"
"Look! There she is!!" cried the voice of Kazuichi, who was pointing directly at Himiko. Kokichi and Himiko looked down the hall to see students from both 7th Island House and Hope House.
"Don't let her get away!" Hina cried.
"Time to make like Blue and Skidoo, HimiCocoa Bean!" Kokichi said, pulling Himiko up from the floor. They ran back towards the entrance of the school, but it was blocked by the students of Casa V3. Kokichi and Himiko were surrounded.
"Snoozydoodles...Snoozydoodles...Snoozydoodles..." everyone chanted as they closed in on Kokichi and Himiko. Some of them even had lines of drool spilling from their mouths. Kokichi wrapped his arms protectively around Himiko.
"Uh...Kokichi...what do we do?" Himiko asked in fear.

"Didn't you say you had a plan?" Kokichi murmured.
"I-I think I do..." Himiko said.

"Well...now would be a good time to do something," Kokichi replied, backing up against a wall.
"E-Everyone...wait!" Himiko yelled. The crowd before them stopped.
"We want Snoozydoodles, and we want them now!" Mahiru demanded impatiently. The others murmured in agreement.
"Um...I know, I know," Himiko said. "I've heard your pleas, and I promise you guys that I'll make some more Snoozydoodles today!" The crowd cheered eagerly. "All I ask is that you give me some time, and they should be ready by the time school ends." The crowd cheered even louder.

"Uhh...you sure you know what you're doing?" Kokichi whispered in Himiko's ear.
"Nyeh...I do, trust me," Himiko whispered back confidently. Kokichi held up his hands in surrender, letting Himiko do her thing.
"Now...if you'll excuse us, we have to leave now," Himiko said. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and Kokichi and Himiko walked through the crowd confidently. As soon as they left the school, Kokichi pulled Himiko aside.
"What's the plan, Monkey Buns?" he asked. With a devious grin, Himiko leaned in to whisper in Kokichi's ear. As he listened, a devious grin of his own began to spread across his face, as well.
"Now, that's my Supreme Lady," Kokichi said proudly in response to Himiko's plan, stroking her cheek affectionately.

Packing up a bag to solve one of the jobs that had been on the back burner, the island overrun with zombies was getting resolved. Checking the contents over one more time, the raw pain of losing Croak drove me to this point. The twins’ hopping down the stairs had me grumbling under my breath, both of them bowing to me. What kind of childhood did they have if they felt the need for that type of behavior? This was irritating the shit out of me. Perhaps it was everything else.
“May we come?” Travy inquired with a nervous smile, her sister holding onto her arm. “I want to destroy what my mother built. Forgive a girl for dreaming.” Both of them looked eager, her usual white suit contrasting her sister’s frilly pink number of a dress ironically. Mulling over her reason, the vows would serve to protect me from assassination. Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t believe what I was about to say.
“Fine but I will be keeping a sharp eye on you. No funny business.” I spoke sternly, zipping up my bag. Whispering among themselves, the talking behind my back is not what I signed up for. Clearing my throat, the twins’ straightened up. Saluting me, this stiff behavior was wearing on my nerves even more. Marching up to them, little to no protest met me lowering their hands. Abuse had led them to such behavior, my task of undoing the learned behavior would be a tedious one.
“Please stop doing that. I want you to respect me by calling me Corpsy, ‘kay.” I pleaded with my genuine smile, both of them attempting to bow again. Catching their foreheads, enough was enough. Parting my lips to speak several times, my expression softening further. Pushing them back into the attention position, they needed to let their guard down. What do you say to a couple of traumatized individuals?
“I don’t bite unless I have to.” I promised them with a hearty chuckle, the edge coming off of their expressions. “Let’s go kill some zombies my pals kept contained for me. Splattered brains and skulls will feel like confetti at this point.” Rolling the transportation spell ball in my palm, a drop of my blood was all I needed. Extending my claws, the tips sank into the tender flesh of my palm. Blood coated my palm, the clear ball glowing to life. Clinging to my arms, a blinding light whisked us to an abandoned city. Fussing with my simple black tank top and cargo pants, this environment had me twisting my waves into neat french braids. Decaying skyscrapers towered over us, every building seeming to be a new level. Chewing on her lips, Saly had true fear in her eyes. Sniffing the air, the remains of a curse had me thinking a witch was in charge here. The true question was where was she, ghastly groans rang out from all around us. Rotting corpses at varying points of decay limped out, the smell sickening the three of us. Spinning on my heels, Saly and Travy waited patiently for orders.
“We are going to slice our way to a necromancer and execute her. If I am correct, we might even get some clues relating to your mother’s plans with Stormana. Sounds great?” Shooting me shaky thumbs up, a kick had my dagger into my eager palm. Extending my blade to its full length, the fun was set to begin. Remembering that Roseworth asked me to do this a while back, she would be proud of me. Spinning their blades in their palms, sly grins illuminated their features. Croak’s smile flashed in my mind, an arrow striking my heart. Croak had been my friend in the dark, the silence killing me every time I hopped into the hearse. Swinging away, heads rolled to my feet. Lightning crackled along the cars, Travy pointing to the closest skyscraper. Leaping over the zombies, shadow snakes slithered down my arms. Sending them out to find the necromancer, Saly pushed me into the glass doors. Locking the doors behind us, eyes glowed around us. Ordering them to shut down their lightning, too much power could bring the building down on us. Rubble covering us was the last thing we needed in this mission, the girls flashing me pleading looks.
“We need to get to the rooftop and get off the ground.” I ordered with a tired smile, my team members nodding with eager grins. “Cut your way to the stairs.” Moonlight bathed the lobby, color draining from my face. A thousand corpses surrounded us, the three of us standing back to back. Admiration burned in their eyes, an honest smile curling on our lips. Three stairwells seemed to hide from us, my snakes slithered over the sea of feet to tell me where our target was. Brushing against my arms on the way up, their hisses told me that she was several buildings away. Whipping their heads towards the clearest path, the twins picked up on it. Covering each other, sludgy black painted our faces with every swing. Jumping over the dropping bodies, relief flooded from our lips upon contact with the first step of the stairs. Three zombies lingered on the next landing, their lack of brains preventing them from going down the stairs. Sending Saly ahead, her skirt floated up with every swing. Crashing up the stairs, the grunting noises soon became the background soundtrack with every second closer to the rooftop. Kicking the door open, harsh air nipped at my cheeks. Black ash drifted like snow, the ash reminding me of a Gothic blizzard. Asking my snakes where to go next, their tails pointed towards the skyscraper twenty feet away from me. Backing up to the edge, our feet pounded together across the helicopter pad. Pushing off the edge, a quiet terror dimmed my eyes at the foul stench blowing my braids about. Landing gracefully, the endless sea of zombies on the streets had me shuddering. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, a couple of hisses had me stopping at the rooftop of an art deco skyscraper. Massaging my forehead, we needed to get in. The usual growls and snarls had us shifting our attention to changed zombies, something seeming off. Cocking my head to the left, horror rounded my eyes at the chains holding them groaning in protest. Nudging my comrades, their terrified eyes met mine. Time for them to let some frustration loose.
“Cut them down before we have an issue.” I whispered loud enough for them to hear and for them to hear alone. Flipping over to the poor souls, lightning bounced off of their blades. Watching them work like a well oiled machine, the image of Croak’s smile in the early morning light had tears welling up in my eyes. A chill ran up my spine, the energy shifting. Glancing up, storm clouds rumbled to life, heavy rain washing the blood and guts off of us. The door into the building clicked open, caution giving me honest hesitation. Urging me to move ahead, it was almost as if I could hear Croak. Hollow footfalls thumped up the stairs, the color drained from my cheeks at a rotting Croak reaching out for me. Opening her mouth, maggots splattered onto the concrete of the rooftop. Stumbling back, the twins caught me before I fell off the roof.
“What’s the matter, love?” She inquired in a gritty tone, her sweet smile sickening me. “Don’t you want to hug me? You did get me killed after all.” Inky splotches dotted my trembling hand, the rain darkening to demon blood. Violent sobs mixed with shortened breaths, my heart seconds from beating out of its chest. Struggling to find any air, her hollow footfalls thumped closer to me. Pausing in front of me, her hands cupped my face. Raising her foot slowly, she kicked us off the roof. Zooming towards the sea of hungry zombies, a numbness came over my face. My comrades begged for me to snap out of it, Croak shifting into a woman with a golden silky bob. Violet eyes twinkled with malice, her spike covered leather dress matching flawlessly to her combat boots. A silver staff glittered in her palm, the skull resting on a carved bone handle. Snapping awake at her chanting, a pool on the roof of one of the other buildings caught my eyes. Building shadow energy at the tip of my blade, a flick of wrist smashed the skyscraper into smithereens. Using the energy to send me back up closer to her, the twins grinned ear to ear at the water flooding the streets. A jolting experience was scheduled for her friends.
“Get the necromancer. We have a shocking gift to jolt those souls awake.” Travy giggled maniacally, her sister joining in with giggles. Smashing more skyscrapers around us, the water flowed like a wild river. Kicking me closer, my trembling fingers snagged on the edge. Lightning lit up the stormy sky, Saly and Tavy winking as they slammed the tip of their blades into a metal skyscraper’s roof. Showing me their rubber boots, pride glistened in their eyes. Pulling myself up with a gruff grunt, a snarl met my broken but defiant smile. Shaking off my fraying nerves, the base of my anxiety remained. Spinning my blade in my palm, the necromancer tapped her staff on the rooftop. A straight blade the size of mine cut my cheek with its expansion, haughty laughter tumbling off her slick tongue. Bad guys needed to calm down with the cockiness, my eyes rolling at her next outburst of frustration.
“Why must you be so insistent!” She growled through gritted teeth, my fingers playing numbly with the cut on my cheek. “Wake up and fight me.” Her chest puffed up and down, frustration darkening her eyes. Rolling my eyes, someone thought highly of themselves. Snapping my head in her direction, an iciness came over me. No one called me out without having their flaws being pointed out as well.
“Fuck you for that trick. Clearly you don’t have a conscience. How many people had to suffer for you to play your stupid game?” I snarled bitterly, a shadow growing behind me. “We let you play for a little too long. Time for you to die.” Charging at each other, sparks danced in the air with every violent clash. Everything doubled, her head cocking to the left creepily. Smashing her fist into my stomach, a splash of blood exploded from my mouth. Sinking to my knees, several organs had burst. Struggling to my feet, she wasn’t going to win. No! This nuisance wasn't going to survive my retaliation.
“Give up already. Your boss left me unchecked for way too long.” She bragged with a Cheshire Cat grin, my hand holding my stomach. Wheezing through the raw agony, my blade trembled uncontrollably. Leaning onto my blade, her hit had some spice to it. Screw her for breaking my insides!
“Never. I would lay down my life the world. Not to be a bitch but you are pissing me off.” I wheezed between words, more blood pouring from the corner of my mouth. “Don’t act all high and mighty with that fucking bullshit that you believe. The dead should stay dead.” Shivering as I raised my blade, my blood painted her face. Slapping my cheek to get myself to focus, shadow snakes hissed to life around me. Swinging her blade towards my head, sparks danced in the air with the violent clash. Pushing her back, the puddle of blood splashed around my feet as I crashed into her building. Sliding down the railing, my feet touched a plush carpet. Spicy wit would have to be my friend, Croak’s real energy raising the hair on the back of my neck. Opening the door, her translucent form sat on the bed. Locking the door behind me, the building rattled. Burying her spirit into a hug, my tears cascaded down her form. Releasing her, her cold thumbs wiped away my tears. Wishing that I didn't have to leave her, too many words bounced around the tip of my tongue.
“Why are you here and not in Heaven?” I asked feverishly, holding her hands like my life depended on it. “Please tell me that you didn’t come here to draw me here.” Averting her gaze to the golden wall, the door began to rattle violently. Cupping my face, the words couldn’t come to her lips. Shaking like a leaf, this couldn’t be real. Speak! Speak, damn it! What I wouldn't do to hear her voice one more time.
“I was stolen from Heaven to this bloody place. Can you free me one last time? There is a deal I made and it has not been fulfilled yet.” She wept dejectedly, my heart breaking for her. “You look like you are doing alright, love.” Uncontrollable sobs wracked my body at how she spoke the word love, the door bursting open. Rising to my feet with a true defiant grin on a determined face, her reign of terror was over. Spinning my blade over my head, the twins paused in the doorway.
“I burn everything you created for what you have done!” I wheezed once more with tears hitting the carpet, hating her for everything she stole from everyone. “You stole someone important from me. Croak was like a fucking goddamn sister to me and you denied her happiness. Fuck you! Get to safety, you fucking idiots!” Running towards the window, lightning lit up the room as they ran down the building. Hoping that survived this, something told me that I might not make it.
“What are you planning to do?” She questioned icily, Croak standing up behind me. “She was easy to capture on the way up. Maybe I wanted to get the bounty on your head by the dark gods. Who wouldn’t want immortality?” Was that really the prize over my head?
“At least it's a steep bounty.” I retorted sarcastically, the corner of lip twitching into a half-smirk. “You wouldn’t be the first person who wants my head on a wall. Too bad I don’t fucking care. Time to bring the big guns.” Shadowy snakes held her in place, her blade rolling over to my feet. My patience had worn thin, my hands picking up her staff. Snapping it in half, it melted into a puddle of boiling hot silver. Panic rounded her eyes, her sinister grin fading for but a second.
“I don’t usually break out my fire powers because the damage is immense.” I growled through gritted teeth, black flames crackling to life as I marched towards her. “Look at you getting the special treatment. Shrinking my blade down to dagger form, black flames devoured my hand. Slamming it into her chest, my fingers curled around her heart. Extending my claws into the tissue, her fingernails scratched at my arm. Shrill shrieks pierced my ears, flames cooking her from the inside. Burning to a pile of blackened ash, Croak covered her mouth. Collapsing to the floor, my muscles had chosen to give out at the worst possible moment. Cursing under my breath, the building groaned in protest. Every attempt to move had me crying into the carpet, Croak begging for me to get up. Shaking my head, every muscle refused to comply with my desire to rise to my feet.
“I can’t.” I snapped into the carpet, my own blood pooling around me. “I used up all of my juice. Be a pal and stay by my side. You know, for old times’ sake.” Coughing up more blood, my claws dug into the floor. Images of Miles running around with my girls had me smiling to myself. Must life always flash before one's eyes. Croak plopped down next to me, her hand taking mine. Tavy and Saly skidded in, Tavy tossing me over her shoulder. Hating for a second that I was going to survive, my hand reached for Croak. Holding on for a second, her warmth felt like her embrace.
“I am not letting you die today, boss.” She chirped cheerfully, tucking my dagger into its case. “Sal, cover our asses.” Sprinting down the halls, Croak waving as she rounded the corner. Watching her spirit float into the sky, silent tears cascaded from my eyes. Letting them rip me from one of the only friends I had ever had, time slowed as they leapt into the crashing waves. Keeping me above the waves, black flames devoured every building. Debris whistled over my head, the lost souls floating into the sky. A wave of exhaustion crashed over me, a rough darkness stealing me away.
Groaning awake on a sandy beach, my wounds had been repaired. The empty vials shimmered next to me, a migraine throbbing to life. Tavy was cursing tersely over a fire that wouldn’t start while Saly struggled with a makeshift fishing pole. A fit of laughter exploded from my lips, a wry smile lingering on my lips. Fishing around my pockets while they rushed over to fret over me, their mother taught them nothing about survival. Sitting up with another groan, the pile of rubble had me tearing up for the millionth time. Stop crying was all I could yell at myself. Plucking my phone from my pocket, the waterproof case had it working. Dialing Morte’s number, he would get the coordinates and come get us. Getting the answering machine, a low growl rumbled in my throat. Rising to my feet, the trees blurred. Running up to me, my palms caught their foreheads before they could bow.
“Treat me like a friend, not a tyrant.” I spoke warmly, the girls straightening up. “Let’s go home. There might be a town not far from her. Dusting off my outfit, I buttoned up the leather jacket to hide the bloody tank top. Undoing my braids, perfect waves floated around my shoulders. Flaking the dried blood off of my face as we hiked, a small town with a single gas station came into view. Spinning on my heels, they shot me a thumbs up. Walking casually into the gas station, colorful snacks lined the shelves. Grabbing a ginger ale on the way to the counter, Tavy slid a couple of candy bars onto the gaudy counter covered in different lighters. Of course, they were hungry. How could I forget?
“Excuse me sir but you know where we are? Our car ran off the road and my cell phone broke in the accident.” I choked out with fresh tears in my eyes, the twins matching my energy. “I need to call a tow truck and I need to know what town we are in.” Sliding over his phone, he gave some a common town name in the United States. Leaving us in privacy, he wouldn’t accept our money. Pretending to dial a number, I hung up and left a wet twenty on the table. Cracking open my soda on the way out, the cool liquid felt nice going down my throat. Turning to face them, a plan had to be formed. Please don't be a daft one.
“You can’t transport or anything?” One of them asked cautiously, my eyebrow twitching at the question. Transportation was out of the question right now with my lack of powers, neither of them needing to know that. Walking into a small park, the early afternoon sun painted the water a nice purple. Dialing my phone again, Morte didn’t pick up. What the hell was he doing? Dialing Wut, he didn’t pick up. Why wasn't anyone picking up!
“Pick up the damn phone, you idiots!” I shouted out of the blue, the others jumping ten feet into the air. “Sorry, my bed is calling me.” Yawning groggily, every muscle in my body ached fiercely. Typing in ways to get home, a bus station wasn’t too far from here. Checking my wallet, I had enough for three tickets home. Marching over to the bus station, the elderly clerk looked me up and down before accepting my money. Sliding over our tickets, the strangers shot us odd looks as we sank into the seats in the back. Trees turned into buildings and back into trees, the four hour bus ride giving me plenty of time to fume. Parking on the edge of the town of my business, another hour passed before I kicked open the door. Everyone looked up, Morte’s damn phone was in a bag of rice. How the hell did that freaking happen?
“Who the hell didn’t pick us up!” I roared thunderously, Morte putting his hands in the air. “I have been calling and calling! I needed someone to talk to. Fuck all of you!” Stomping upstairs to get changed, a new dress waited for me with Roseworth sitting on the bed in one of her usual onyx lace dresses. Folding my arms across my chest, it was her fault I didn’t have a return spell. Who sends someone on a mission without a way back!
“I solved your fucking problem!” I spat viciously, fighting another wave of tears. “Death almost claimed me again. I understand that it needed to be done but I have one damn question! Did you know that Croak was there? Is that why you sent me? That was a freaking joke and cruel at best. I loved her like a sister.” Covering my mouth, tears dripped off of my hands. It hurt to say that out loud, a bit of shame dimming my eyes for a second. No, an explanation was deserved.
“As long as I have lived I have never ever been put through so much mental pain! If you want to continue to be in my life, then secrets don’t exist! Am I understood?” I continued hotly, the guilt in her eyes softening my expression. “Sorry for yelling. I have had a rough day. What’s with the dress anyway?” Bowing her head while collecting herself, a bright smile met my busted expression. Shit, did I go too far again?
“We were going to surprise you for your birthday and our phones all got dropped in water. That is why we didn’t pick up.” She admitted with wet eyes, the guilt creeping in from my outburst. “I did know but I thought you could see her one last time. Sorry for trying to help a grieving sister. I don’t have much either now. All I have is my nieces and you.” Plopping down next to her, my arms buried her into a bear hug. Apologizing profusely, her emotions soaked my shirt. Holding her until the tears dried up, my hand cupped her cheek. The good intentions canceled any rage.
“Thank you so much.” I mumbled with another sad smile, rising from the bed to get changed into the lovely emerald dress. “I love you like a sister as well.” Snatching the dress off of the bed, the reflection in the mirror had me shrinking back. A zombie would have looked better, the door creaking open as I cleaned up a bit. Morte poked his head in, my eyes refusing to meet his. Hating that I lost on him, he must despise me.
“I would have gotten you if my phone was working. I am sorry.” He apologized sincerely, helping me take off my filthy clothes. Sure, everyone really seemed sorry. Maybe I was sick of hearing the word. Helping me get my dress on, the zipper went right up. Tracing the black lace covering the fifties style dress, Morte spun me around to face him. Lifting up my chin, his crooked grin made my day a bit better. Kissing my lips tenderly, my face was still puffy as hell. Lost between a state of panic and euphoria, the combination had a sickening effect.
“You have never looked more beautiful.” He sang with his natural smile, my heart fluttering. “The kids wanted to throw you a surprise party so act surprised.” Uttering a single yes, he offered me his elbow. Sliding on my boots on the way out, we paused in front of the living room door. Opening up the door, everyone shouted surprise. Donning my genuine smile, the girls and Miles smashed into my legs. Thanking them with a flurry of feverish kisses, their smiles couldn’t be any bigger. A bit of life returned to my eyes, my kids giving the flames of hope another boost.

My house is very haunted. Specifically the 3rd floor which is a whole apartment. The only public record I can find it my landlord buying it in 2005, but the home was built in 1900. Before I moved in with my dad, my friends mom told me that she almost rented the place but didn’t as either the current person living there at the time or the neighbor told her “don’t let your kids into the 3rd floor”. We have always laughed it off but it’s not funny anymore.
Whatever is in my home is ruining our lives & I have smudged it many times. It worked once a few months ago, and now whatever it is, does not care how long I smudge and chant for. 4 hours of drowning the place in sage & cedar while commanding it to leave did not work. It did make me very sick though.
We can’t use the 3 bedrooms, 2 living rooms & bathroom up there as we can’t go up there. It never fully left originally but once my partner stays up there frequently, things get bad with HIM. Whatever it is, steps in & I guess basically possesses him. It happened to my brother as well when he lived here but I thought it left when my brother did. When we do not keep the 3rd floor door open & do not go up there is when activity starts. It has nothing to affect or attach to when no one goes up there. So now for the first time ever, it has moved to wherever in the house which I can’t believe.
All we know is a women named Margret lived here, she didn’t seem to be bad. I am unsure if her presence is still here. What is here now is very very negative. I need to find the history but I am also disabled and chronically ill and this negative entity has made it much worse so going to a library or anywhere is out of the question as I’m mostly bedbound and nearly 100% housebound.
Please if anyone knows of any website even if I have to pay a few bucks I don’t care I need to know as much as I can as this is ruining our lives.

Unfair comparation tbh, ever since I got Lust, she literally wips my nightmare team restoring their rage while doing great damage. Is funny when she kills someone friendly aswell, accidents happen. I use her in most places even without Arrogance. Her range is amazing, it was worth saving 250 for her and her mighty whip. Her 'And now this world will burn' chant when you select her is TOP 5 ingame. That would be a great question, who has the best voicelines?

First/Previous/Next
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.
First/Previous/Next
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Tier List: https://imgur.com/a/RjE3PTc
There's something special about this battle from the very beginning, with how the announcer is doing these hushed whispers with this ominous music playing.
"Look alive, crème de la Kremlin's arriving! Try to serve Ivan; no surviving!" Ivan saying "look alive" as we get a close-up shot of his face is an attention-grabbing opener. The wordsmithing here with crème de la Kremlin and serve Ivan/surviving is magical. The background looks gorgeous too, great use of colors. "You're a land rover; I'm a land expander! Here to hand you your first loss, Alexander!" Well this is simultaneously a top-tier boast and diss; Alexander's empire fell apart when he died while Ivan's conquerings remained a part of Russia, so he's already making a strong case for being better at the thing Alexander's famous for. "I'll school you like Aristotle; smack you harder than you hit that bottle!" This is fine. A reference to the fact that Aristotle taught Alexander and a diss against Alexander for being a drunk. These aren't particularly powerful lines, but they're functional. I do love the way Ivan's eyes wander to the rhythm when he says 'hit that bottle'. "You're nothing but an overrated lush; I'll crush ya! I'm the first Tsar of all of Russia!" Interesting tidbit that does make Ivan the Terrible seem like a much more significant historical figure than he otherwise would have if you didn't know that. Getting all the guys from the Russian battle in the background is a fun touch, even if the dancer dude does not feel like he remotely belongs up there with the rest of those guys. "You're an asshole with an anastole! I'm heaven-sent, divine and holy!" The first line is quite mediocre, and the second line is mostly just serving to build up to the next line. "So don't even try to approach the God, or you'll get a huge sack like Novgorod!" God fucking damn, this is easily in my top ten closing lines. Not only is it a clever line and a gloriously epic boast, but the line delivery. His voice is so low and monstrous-sounding, especially with how they seem to have layered extra copies of the line recording on top of it. And the visual with all the Ivans on-screen, and the versions on the right and left turning to the camera join the one in the center in delivering this wham line... UNF. I love this!
"Hey fella, swell diss." Gotta cut in early here to acknowledge how funny and iconic this reaction is. "But now you got the Panhellenist from Pella hella pissed." This line speaks for itself, it's got some of the best wordplay ERB has ever crafted. "Stepping up's foolish as well as useless, little Vasilyevich! Let me spell out the list!" Pretty cool wordsmithing here, nice setup to something bigger though I don't think what follows quite lives up. "I brought foes to their knees in Phonecia! Breezed through Gaza to Giza! Had the Balkans, Persia, Syria, Iraq, and Pakistan in my expansion pack!" This comes pretty close to just being a straightforward history lesson, there's not a ton of cleverness here. The expansion pack joke is a little corny. There's a little bit of wordplay going on with bits like knees/Phonecia and Gaza/Giza. Flow's weaker than in the rest of his verse too. The visual with the map is a nice touch. "While you died in the middle of a game of chess; you got vodka bars: flavorless!" Some competent disses here. I really like the visual of the chess board: he even knocks over a King, which is presumably supposed to represent him defeating Ivan. I think the way Alexander paints Ivan as a disconnected figure who's just playing games whilst Alexander is actually out conquering in-person is a nice way to preserve his credibility after that land expander bit from Ivan. "And what I'm about to spit will be the craziest, so go fix me a drink so I can stay refreshed!" Nothing too great here, although I do like the dismissiveness inherent in Alexander ordering Ivan to make him a drink. "Kudos! Greek for the glory I got from winning every single war that I fought." Nothing much to say, this is a good boast, it checks out. "So this will be straightforward: I'll take up this sword that I brought, and slice you in half like the Gordian knot." This isn't the most substantive way of saying he's better than Ivan, but referencing the Gordian knot legend is something. "And I'll soar to the top, like the eagle whose feather I would sport in the helmet I wore, as I swatted my many enemies; shattered them like a porcelain pot, and they'd be praying for the torture to stop!" Okay, now Alexander is just witlessly rambling. This is easily the low point of his verse. "But I would leave 'em contorted and they'd be screaming and roaring until their vocal cords were torn up and shot!" Again, he's just rambling, but I will say that his flow and line delivery starts being so awesome here that I can give it a pass. I also like how the way the music stopped after he yelled "stop!" last line before dropping into this one. "And I would holler "Bucephalus!", hop on my horsey, and trot! I win, Ivan; I vanquish! I'm an immortal; you're not!" He's still mostly just rambling about how great he is without being clever about it, but again, he sounds so awesome here that it works. And the Ivan/I vanquish is good wordplay and a nice parallel to the serve Ivan/surviving bit, so it does have that much going for it in terms of substance. Also the visuals cutting back to Ivan pouring a drink in the creepiest possible manner are fan-fucking-tastic.
Ivan concedes defeat, having actually prepared Alexander a drink. You'd think a little interim bit like this would hurt the battle in repeat viewings/listens, but I enjoy it every time. Zach Sherwin's line delivery of "I WEEP, it's all so EEEEAAAASY!!!" is hilarious. Love the way Ivan comes poking out of the shadows all rat-like as he asks what's wrong. I also dig the way Alexander's facial expression changes when he says 'queasy' and he falls down and his head moving out of the shot gives way to Ivan standing behind him celebrating and it's just so GOOD. This battle is so much fun! The "HA!!! You've been poisoned!" is fun, as is Zach Sherwin's deliberately bad acting with his final words. Ivan declares that he is Terrible and that there's no Great who could defeat this Russian, but a mysterious shadow materializes and quietly suggests a flute-busting Prussian might manage it.
What the FUCK. The flute solo! The chanting of "Old Fritz!" The bird's eye camera angle that Lloid looks up at as the emblem of what is probably his house or country or some other organization related to him is on the floor! That dapper-ass outfit! The little pose he strikes as his title card appears! This is without a doubt the greatest entrance any contestant has ever had in ERB to this day. This new music track kicks ass too. "Out the gate, first servant of state! Oblique attack tactics, ain't exactly straight!" As if he wasn't cool enough already, the king is a queen! Good use of consonance too. Also apparently this is referencing a famous tactic for battle that Frederick used. I looked up 'first servant of state prussia' and was informed that Frederick pursued a policy of religious tolerance and abolished torture immediately when he came to power. What an absolute chad. I wish he brought that up here; at best he vaguely alludes to it. "I've got creative talents and battle malice; hard as steel on the field, genteel in the palace!" These lines aren't substantive, but the line delivery is a ton of fun. And the visuals with him jabbing his cane and sipping from a cup are immaculate. "Russia's fucked up but no wonder why; with your tundras and taigas and bears oh my!" Great flow, the visuals are absolutely top tier. The line itself is competent, definitely getting carried by the presentation, but the tigers/taigas swapout is good. "I would pay a guy to tear out my eyes if I had to look at your troll face every night!" Man... why can't mediocre lines in all of the battles get such good line deliveries? Lloid is selling the absolute fuck out of this weaksauce diss and making it work. "Now, bring me my chair! I'm weary from tearing you a new derrière from here to Red Square!" Wait a minute, is that... chair... wear... tear... derrière... square... IT IS!!! IT'S A 5X RHYME COMBO!!! "Fought a Seven Years' War, I ain't scared of a Tsar! 'Cause beating you only took me twelve bars!" A truly fabulous boast and iconic verse closer.
These interims continue the trend of being hilarious by having Frederick die in his chair without the need for Ivan's intervention, which is a reference to how he actually died! Fancy that. I do think this one doesn't quite stand up to repeat encounters the way the first intermission did; the line about saving money and the little song Ivan sings are a bit drab to sit through again and again, but hey, they were funny the first time and it's still a fun performance from Peter. Pompey comes in to seemingly start rapping, but immediately gets decapitated by Catherine the Great. Poor guy. I would have liked for this to be a five-way battle and to have gotten a verse from Pompey first, but ah well.
"Macedonians, Prussians, and Romans; those aren't worthy opponents. It takes a Russian to take down a Russian. I'm Cat; I'm a cat; you're a rodent!" This is a pretty good opener, except for the fact that she's singing. Introducing singing into these rap battles is always a serious momentum-killer. She's got a great costume, though. "How are you the head of our state when the state of your head was such a crazy one? Such sick shit going through your brain that you stuck a spike through your own son!" Good wordplay in that first line, great visuals with these dancers up to chicanery in the background. "You're unbalanced like I unbalanced the European powers with the wars I waged! I brought the Russian empire straight out the olden days and right into the golden age!" That first line feels a little forced, competent boast in the second line. "I'm the boss bitch that you just can't meddle with! This whole battle's like Alaska 'cause I settled it!" Nice closer.
Ivan briefly interjects as he tries and fails to seduce Catherine with a horse. Peter continues giving the best performance of his career, though I can't help but wish we got a little more here. Feels weird that this is the last we see Ivan onscreen. Would've been nice to at least see an upset reaction to his ploy failing.
Catherine proceeds to inform Ivan that this rumor about her sexual proclivities is false: "That horse story is a pile of shit, though I do keep 'em chomping at the bit." There's three different layers to 'chomping at the bit' going on here, and that's cool. "But you're never gonna get it, nyet! Couldn't spin in my chamber of this were Russian roulette." This is pretty funny, and I think it's for sure her best line. The little interjection of 'nyet' is great. "I'm picking up where Peter the Great left off! Bringing sexy back to House Romanov!" Not much to say here. Kind of filler. "So don't call me Queen, I'm far more great! Empress to Tsar 8, bitch! Checkmate!" This is literally a killer closing line; she's referencing how Ivan died in the middle of a game of chess, as Alexander said, and years later I'm only just getting that now.
So all of these verses have considerable flaws, I think. Ivan's is too short, for as much screentime as he gets he doesn't get much in terms of actual rapping. We could have at least used a few more lines in his first verse. There's a lot of Alexander the Great's verse that is just him droning on about how great he is without actually having much substance or cleverness to what he's saying. It's his godlike FLOW that is carrying him through a lot of this. And that's a legitimate factor to consider in his performance and it does make his verse great to listen to, but I wish there were more meat there underneath Sherwin's kickass performance. Frederick the Great is the most entertaining part of the battle(saying a LOT when Ivan the Terrible is present) and his lines are probably the most consistently good, but none of them are great, y'know? He could have used a killer burn or two in there, his diss game wasn't great. And Catherine the Great... well, she sang for both of her verses. I hate it when rappers sing, it kills the energy, and when going back to listen to this battle(which is very often!) I usually stop once her verse starts. She's got some good lines, they're decent verses on paper, and her actress is obviously a good singer, but I just do not want to listen to a solid minute of someone singing in a rap battle.
And really, having so much of this battle be skippable to me is reason enough to justify putting it in A Tier rather than S. I certainly intended to put it in A Tier for a long time. But... even if I feel Catherine's verse ends up being a drag, and even if the verses that come before have some flaws that might keep them from being S Tier on their own... it's all just so fun. Peter and Lloid and Zach are all at their best, and I genuinely do think Ivan is the best character Peter ever played. I love the performances, and the visuals, and the music(mostly), and the structure of having all these Greats dying off to the Terrible. This has got to be in the top five rap battles in terms of which ones I go back to the most; probably exactly number five. And if that isn't worthy of S Tier, then there's only gonna be four S Tiers on this list, and that seems like too few. Bottom of S Tier.
Ivan = Frederick>Alexander>Catherine. Maybe a little controversial, but I do think that you could make a valid and substantive case for any one of these rappers being the winner.

Just wondered if these moments are funny endearing or just neutral by Gods standards.
My own thoughts is he has a “oh those silly kids” vibe in regards to when you’re really struggling after eating some fire chili.
In the same house as those shirts depicting Jesus diving for a volleyball and the caption saying Jesus saves!

FIRST CHAPTER
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
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Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]

This is a WALL of text. Read it or ignore it if you'd like to. I like putting opinions out there, and listening to what others have to say.
“Arsenal watching city going 1 up after hate watching”
I feel like I've never seen more fans hate watching while 0 Arsenal supporters do so.Spurs fans consistently hate watching when we got into the champions league.
Arsenal, when they were down to Luton, had so many hate-watchers. So many shitty fans calling us hate watchers, then watching every single city and arsenal game to try and clown us.
But I’ve never really seen Arsenal fans as hate watchers… There may be a couple of examples I haven’t seen, but from what I've seen our “Hate watching” has come down to seeing how interesting games can be. When City goes up 1, I try to keep watching (from NZ, so time zones are a bitch) because I like football and I’m interested. I got to 3-0 city vs Fulham before I fell asleep.
Just funny going onto twitter and reading chelsea fans saying ”CITTTEHHHHHH” n such. A bit of a guilty pleasure is reading idiotic posts on twitter.
The Social Media Fans
Social media fans are rampant and are now seen as “The fans of the club” which is insane, because 90% of them have never been to England, let alone a game. And will look at a scoreline/highlights to determine what they think, And look at a team’s name to determine what the result should be.
Trust, I’ve watched full games back from time to time, and goddamn the picture is soooooooo different, from watching highlights, or reading a timeline.
Not sure about certain supporters who live within England, and It may be “banter” but it gets tiring hearing “We all hate Arsenal fans” when you actively have so many more Chelsea, and United fans screaming in your ears about every little thing, while supporting their rivals…
I hate the “pray for (insert team)” but the more of a meme it becomes the better, it’s just sad that they come with some of the most delusional takes ever, from people who don’t pay attention to how other teams are performing. And that they’re not just “food” for us to eat, it’s a competitive league for a reason.
Supporting the Dominant Team
I also find it insane that such a large group of people would rather see a team, with 115+ charges (who have been constantly avoiding them), while also spending billions to win the league for the 6th time in 7 years, over a team which is having a rise to glory. Just because “It’s arsenal”. While if you look back a couple months, everyone is complaining about city.
Also when did the fact where everyone hates the dominant team, and wants to see others rising not become a thing? F1 had it with Hamilton, now verstappen. NZ rugby has it with the crusaders (absolute cunts btw), and it happened with Golden State in the NBA, and now the nuggets.
Clubs who talk about history to prove they’re better now
It’s so common I see fans talk about trophies as if they mean “We’re the best team in the world”, Chelsea fans are great at this, bringing back a champions league where they only have 3 of those players, and a completely different management and ownership.
I just hope that this is banter, and not actual delulu. Hard for me to tell, or even certain teams talking about european trophies (cough cough west ham *cough cough*), where it is amazing they got it, but bring a top 4 / 5 team, who wants to win that competition, and they’ll win it almost every time.
What defines big clubs to me is, how good is your club now, and how many fans around the world do you have. Man United has the fans, but the team quality due to injuries wouldn’t help them to be the “biggest club”. The reason Barcelona vs Real was so big was because they were the best in the world, with the best players, and the most fans. Barcelona are a smaller club now (still huge), because the names aren’t as big, and they aren’t as competitive as they used to be. But still will have a ton of fans.
Teams Succeeding???
For me, I don’t like spurs, the mentality, the supporters, the scummy tactics. But I do want to see the team succeed in the competition (I Also like Ange and his story). I’m happy Aston Villa is doing well, I’m happy Liverpool had a bounce back season, and I'm happy Newcastle have started to find their footing.
And this is because you want a competitive league. We DON’T want a Bayern situation. Everyone always wanted Dortmund to win it, or at least another team, and look at the celebrations now that Leverkusen has done it. Bundesliga got 5 champions league spots, not only because of what happened in the Champion league, but you have Bayern, Dortmund, Leverkusen, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, RB Leipzig all becoming more and more competitive. (Even though the disparity between 1-8 and 9-18 is big) it’s a step in a good direction.
Winning the League?
I’ve supported Arsenal since I was 7, because playing Fifa 12 with my older brothers, I thought the cannon was cool. I’ve been on and off for a while, but Arteta brought me back (And my degen phase of 4 hours of sleep has kicked in)
These years have taught me to never expect our team to win anything, till the final whistle of the final game. Very fucking sad, but it’s true. I will celebrate every win, Look back at every loss, watch every minute I can despite being sleep deprived, and love every moment, because I fucking love this club. I don’t care if we win the Premier league this season or not, I have no hope, but that could be my bleak outlook. But it was the same last season. I wait for the final whistle of the final game, then having the trophy or not, might give me a little more happiness.
But by far the most important thing for a depressed, mentally ill, sleep deprived, University student. Is when I see posts about the players, the club, the staff and the fans. And it makes me smile. As simple as seeing Gabriel and Saliba partnership being praised and them being “future” of Arsenal, makes me smile now, and gives me the moments of happiness which sadly, fade quickly. But they’re there.
Lastly PLEASE for the love of this club, never stop talking about the small cute things our players do, the celebrities involved, the nicknames we give our players, the new chants created. That character is what makes this club fucking beautiful.

About six months ago, in November, I started my journey through the "Chronicles of Chrestomanci," which of course are not really a series as much as a collection of books which all take place in the same set of universes. I read everything in order of publication, posting my thoughts here each time, and with the completion of this book I am now all the way through these wonderful novels. Please forgive my lack of direct quotes this time--having read nothing else for fun besides these books for six months, I found my note-taking capacity to be somewhat diminished. Maybe in the future I'll write a more detailed review.
The Pinhoe Egg is the final Chrestomanci book, whether you're reading them in order of publication or chronologically. I have no doubt Diana Wynne Jones did not intend this to be a "series" with a beginning and end; rather, I assume she simply got several book ideas that took place in this world, and this happened to be the last time before she died. It is sheer luck, then, that this last book is a sort of grand culmination of them both thematically and narratively, and possibly the best of the lot.
We start, typically, with a new protagonist, Marianne Pinhoe, and a new locale, the small rural village of Ulverscote, located a stone's throw from Chrestomanci Castle and Helm St. Mary. I liked that we got a little more background about this area throughout the book. When I go back to reread Charmed Life, I'm looking forward to putting it all into this new context.
Marianne became a favorite character almost instantly, and I was hooked on her storyline right from the beginning. Jones has a typically virtuosic opening sequence, wasting no time in establishing the key characters and launching into a dreadfully funny episode telling of Marianne's grandmother (who is also a kind of matriarch or "Gammer" over all the Pinhoes) apparently abruptly developing dementia and being forcibly removed from her home. There is black comedy galore here, all painfully adjacent to the real experience of making arrangements for a feeble or senile parent, as when Gammer is so averse to leaving her home that she roots herself in the bed, complete with actual roots. Meanwhile, Gammer's brothers and many children squabble over who gets to live in her house and where her belongings will go.
I mentioned before how Jones is always surprising me with the variety of formal structures and writing styles she employs. I thought I had figured out her game here, and was sure it was going to be similar to Conrad's Fate, where a new protagonist gradually makes their way into meeting familiar characters. But of course, Jones neatly sidesteps all reader expectation and switches tracks suddenly a few chapters in, focusing on Cat Chant as a second, equal protagonist, and revealing this book to be, among other things, the true sequel to Charmed Life--published 29 real-life years later. Jones then begins alternating between Cat and Marianne unevenly, and sometimes even from sentence to sentence, as in Witch Week. Her sleight of hand is sly and clever, and the craftsmanship is remarkable. Hats off--each of the seven books in this series reads totally differently. Jack of all trades, master of all, our Diana.
Jones stacks on the themes this time. We of course get some of her usual preoccupations, particularly with that of unreliable families. The Pinhoes may be the worst of the lot, or at least the most upsetting, because while in most of the other books the dysfunction is obvious, things are more insidious here. The reader is actually led (through Marianne's obedient, rule-following perspective) to see Harry, Cecily, Gammer, and most of the uncles and aunts as well-meaning individuals who care for one another. However, as in Charmed Life (and Cat himself draws the comparison), as the book goes on and Marianne becomes more independent, it becomes increasingly difficult for her, and for us, to justify their cruel behavior. It is genuinely devastating when Marianne figures out what's going on halfway through the book, decides to approach the adults in her life about it, and is laughed off or outright punished by all of them. There is a familiar scene at the end of the book: Marianne's and Joe's talents are vindicated by Chrestomanci and they are given the opportunity to nurture their skills in an education apart from parents who hold them back by refusing to understand or accept them. Replace the current Chrestomanci with the previous acting Chrestomanci, Gabriel de Witt, and you have the same scene as the end of Conrad's Fate. The detail that Marianne and Joe still go home and see their parents regularly is brutally realistic, Marianne able to convince her mother to soften on some issues, but ultimately failing to truly connect with her father. This seems to me the ultimate conclusion of the obsession with family dynamics in the Chronicles of Chrestomanci--that your family will always be there, like them or not, whether or not a true understanding can ever be reached. I'm not ashamed to say I cried through the last couple chapters of the book, and found the first line Jones has written that made me audibly sob. This was a feeling from childhood I didn't even know I had forgotten:

[Marianne] was depressed and worried. Dad was never going to understand and never going to forgive her. And Gaffer had still not turned up. On top of that, school started on Monday week. Though look on the bright side, she thought. It'll keep me away from my family, during the daytime at least.

As in Conrad's Fate, the potential toxicity of religion crops up here, in a bigger way than ever. The last act of the book is barely disguised by its magical trappings: what we have here is a group of devout, religious conservatives, being shown the harmful effects of their actions, and blindly rejecting all of the proof and logic in front of them in favor of enforcing rules and laws that keep them comfortable. There is no doubt that the next generation of Pinhoes will be just as subject to the old traditions, in spite of Marianne and Joe breaking free. That the Reverend Pinhoe is portrayed as a hapless and kind man, ignorant to most of the wrongdoing in the village, does little to soften the point of Jones's pencil here. As I said, I was startled by how moved and devastated I was by this final section, recognizing all of the real-world pain in this fantastical setting.
Jones has always been steadfastly protective of those who cannot speak up for themselves, as with the character of Cat who finds it difficult to recognize and verbalize his feelings. This time, borrowing from a kind of Shinto animism, Jones includes the concept of Dwimmer, a magic that is focused on the life force within all creatures and plants. There is no debate where Jones stands on this--her deepest and most profound sympathies lie with Cat, who can't bear to imagine his horse Syracuse chopped into dog meat, who frets over Klartch's wellbeing when out of his sight, and who firmly refuses to apologize for releasing all the goblinlike fairy folk from their bindings. There is no direct intimation of endangered species, global warming, or human-caused environmental destruction in this book, as you might expect in this kind of setup (I suspect Jones was too clever to resort to trite metaphors). However, in a fascinating twist, a plot detail revolves around the Pinhoes and Farleighs erecting a barrier in the forest to contain the magical creatures, making the forest feel empty and incomplete in the process--a magical, but also literal, instance of deforestation. Motives of plants, herbs, and trees, both good and evil, carry through the book as well. Jason and Gaffer Elijah Pinhoe, as well as Cecily, are handy with plants and tend large gardens. The Farleighs' and Pinhoes' spells tend to take the form of small bags of weeds and branches as well. Interestingly, and insightfully, the natural world is portrayed as difficult as well: Gammer grows roots to impede her family's mission, and the vile Gaffer Farleigh morphs into a stubborn, gnarled, immovable petrified oak when Cat works a spell forcing him to assume his true form.
This was one of the most enjoyable books in the Chrestomanci series, and it was bittersweet to close the door on the Pinhoes. I like that the continuity between these books is vague and tenuous, so I'm free to imagine all sort of side goings-on, like what might happen to Marianne and Cat later in life, or whether Conrad and Christopher remained friends, or what Roger and Julia thought when their dad told them all about the events at the academy in Witch Week. Howl's Moving Castle is still the book closest to my heart, and will forever be the Diana Wynne Jones I read over and over, recommending to anyone unfortunate enough to strike up a conversation about books with me, but I am so glad that I found the time to welcome Chrestomanci and all his strange acquaintances into my heart, too.
Here's my personal ranking of the Chronicles of Chrestomanci, but please note I love all of these books and a low ranking does not mean I don't like the book. I have to put that there because there's always someone who doesn't understand that last place doesn't mean bad or worst. I'm not including the short stories individually because it's impossible for me to weigh a short story against a novel, whereas a large collection seems to make sense to me. I also must admit that the top three, especially the top two, were really difficult to place and I more or less love them equally.

1. Conrad's Fate
2. The Pinhoe Egg
3. Charmed Life
4. Mixed Magics
5. The Magicians of Caprona
6. Witch Week
7. The Lives of Christopher Chant

My next Jones book will be -- drumroll, please -- Archer's Goon, though I'm taking a break for some adult reading during the summer. While I'm in a school semester I can pretty much only manage to read children's fantasy, so I'll see you all come August or September. :) Thanks to those of you who have been reading and following my journey from start to finish. I would love to chat more about this book and this series.
Oh, and finally... ALL SPOILERS ALLOWED!

A while back, I watched the Rob Schneider film The Hot Chick (2002). While it did have funny moments, the whole,"haha, grown made dress and act like teen girl" shtick got kind of old and gross pretty fast, and I then just wanted to see more of the criminal. However, with that, it gave me an interesting idea on how to fix the film: Make the Criminal the protagonist, not the teenage girl.
Now, don't get me wrong, the segments where the girl had the criminals body did have some funny moments, as stated before. Hence, while the film would mostly surround the criminal, there would be some cutaways to show us how the teenager is doing, with those particular entertaining scenes.
The film's beginning would be the same, with the girl and her friends doing daily stuff, taking the cursed jewelry, and so forth. However, once they body-swap, and the criminal freaks out, then that's when he ends up being the protagonist, and all the focus goes to him instead. The film would surround on his misadventures, and on how he does thrive in the girl's body, as seen with cutaways on his crimes and the news. However, there would be a subplot on the criminal discovering himself. Not sure about trans representation, since it probably wouldn't be done well back in the 00s, but maybe at least bisexuality, having some interest with other men and/or just fellow criminals. Of course, for appropriation, make the teen girl already be ~18-19 when the body-swap occurs.
Of course, with the criminal and his crimes, he won't definitely be a Saint or even a good guy. Maybe make him a sympathetic anti-hero, since he still commits crimes, does other bad things, and makes the girl look bad since he technically is using her identity. For the sympathetic part, it's more on him confronting his insecurities, and discovering his own sexuality. Eventually, in the final scene with the strip club, this would be where the girls confront him, reminding us how he still is a bad person. The girl would steal the earring from him like in the real film, but he'll figure out it's missing, and it ends up with a whole fight ensuing, trying to keep the earring on until their bodies return to normal. It could get funny, especially when the criminal shouts to the manager he's being attacked, and then body guards come in to join the fight, and men attending the strip club surround and start chanting,"fight, fight, fight!". In the end, the girl gets all the earrings before it's too late, and their bodies return to normal.
With everything that's occured of course, the police come and arrest the criminal. As he's being arrested, the criminal does come out with his sexuality, and admitting how he isn't afraid of anything, and even thanking the teen girls for asking for his service at the gas station. Everyone's either confused or are glad that he's now accepting of himself, but then the police remind him he's still a jerk and a criminal, and he's then stuck into the police car. For some humor, while the criminal now knows himself, he turns around and sees the weird bartender smile at him in the crowd, which the criminal looks at in disgust. The film ends with the cop car's door closing, and the car driving away.
And that's how I would fix The Hot Chick.

What do you guys do before races? Do you have a fun dance? A funny chant or song? What about a mascot you bring everywhere? Anything cool about your team that makes you stand out?

This album does not “ruin” “lessen” or “de-elevate” Ye’s discography, it only makes it better, and people who truly think the album is mid - bad are lying to themselves to make other people like them. The album holds a crisp 52 min runtime and it holds your attention throughout it all. Every song is dynamic in a way that makes each song sound like it could only come from a project of this magnitude.
Starting with the first track; Stars brings you into this masterful narrative told my Ye & Ty Dolla $ign. As the drums kick in and the choir sings in the background, Ye raps about his life like he never has. Keys To My Life has one of my favorite low key beats of Ye’s latter catalog with India Love singing a very melodic outro. Paid is one of the most fun and replayable Ye songs ever with a very danceable beat and an amazing ending. Talking is Ye’s first song with his daughter, North West, as they have fun together, showcasing their chemistry as father & daughter. The beat switch and second half is also really enjoyable, and when accompanied with the music video, you can feel holy vibes that feel magical. Back To Me is one of the best off the album, with a stellar Ty verse, a very funny Ye verse that makes me laugh all the time, and a legendary Freddie Gibbs verse. The beat is also super smooth and relaxing. Hoodrat, while being hated by smooth-brained individuals, has some of Ye’s best singing ever, the lyrics come over many fans heads but the top 0.5% usually enjoy the track like they should. Similar to Paid, Do It is a party banger with a great verses from everyone including Nipsey and YG who make an appearance on the song. The beat switch is also welcome as the second beat is one of the best beats of the album. Paperwork sounds like it could come from Yeezus, from the experimental Instrumental, to the impressive and iconic chorus, paperwork brings a lot to the table. Burn brings back Late Registration Ye with a soulful sample, a relatable and iconic verse, and an overall amazing vibe. Fuk Sumn, has one of the most recognizable beats of the Vultures era with an amazing Carti verse, and revolutionary bridge towards Ye’s verse. Ty does his thing with his gifted voice and Travis proves why he is one of the great in the game right now. Vultures has a melodic beat with the greatest verse of Vultures 1, performed by Bump J. This is one of the greatest singles Ye has ever released as it perfectly sets the tone for what the Vultures era is. Carnival brings back Off The Grid Ye with an imaginative hype song that features Rich The Kid & Playboi Carti who both have some of the greatest verses of their careers. Beg Forgiveness shows Ye’s vulnerability about his family and when the beg forgiveness chant start, one of the greatest moments of Ye’s career starts. Ty sings his greatest verse ever and you will be changed after a first listen. Good (Don’t Die) shows that Ye can still make a song that sounds like someit off 808s & Heartbreak with the same quality. Problematic is Ye at his best, immaculate production, absurd verses, and a great time. King is the final song, as Ye states he is still the king whilst being criticized at every turn. The final verse & flow are very great and the beat is a hard hitting banger.
For The Reasons I Have Mentioned, I believe Vultures 1 is an amazing album and you’re objectively wrong if you don’t like or think it’s bad. I hope to destroy all arguments against Vultures 1. Deuces ✌️

Venue: Bon Secours Wellness Arena (Greenville, SC)
Attendance: ~8,400

Winner	Loser	Match Finish	Stipulation
Iyo Sky	Shayna Bazler	Over the Moonsault	Queen of the Ring Quarterfinal
GUNTHER	Kofi Kingston	Boston Crab	King of the Ring Quarterfinal
Bronson Reed	Akira Tozawa w/ Chad Gable	Tsunami
Lyra Valkyria	Zoey Stark	Nightwing	Queen of the Ring Quarterfinal
Sami Zayn	Otis w/ Chad Gable	Helluva Kick
Becky Lynch	Dakota Kai w/ Damage CTRL	DQ when Iyo and Kairi attack Becky
The Judgement Day w/ Carlito	The Creed Brothers, AOP, and New Catch Republic	Coup de Grace	#1 Contender for the World Tag Team Championships
Jey Uso	Ilja Dragunov	Uso Splash	King of the Ring Quarterfinal

IMPORTANT NOTES

• Kickoff with Drew McIntyre storming backstage and making his way out to the ring where the crowd instantly starts chanting for CM Punk. Drew says Punk only makes the big towns and he won't be showing up in Greenville brothers. Drew says the greatest trick Punk ever pulled was looking like a drug addict despite never taking any, and his other greatest trick was him convincing people to keep taking him back after he keeps breaking their hearts and yet they still buy all the crap he spews out and calls CM Punk fans stupid. Drew says last week Punk only called him a coward after he knew that he left, yet when he was on the stage Punk stayed up in a skybox. Drew says he won't keep wasting his time on someone who won't be cleared for 20 years, and speaking of things that'll never happen Jey Uso lost another title match and now he took his spot in the King of the Ring tournament. Drew calls Damian Priest a paper champion which causes the World Heavyweight Champion to make his way to the ring. Priest tells Drew he's got some serious issues and tells Drew maybe he should do something different tonight and say what he wants to say to someone's face. Drew says he'd love to but Punk keeps running away from him, but since Priest is here he'll say something positive and says that Damian put all the work in and made it here, but he isn't World Champion material. Drew says it is a case of the title making the man and right now that title is in its infancy and it needs someone like him to elevate it, not someone who cashed in on him. Damian says Drew knows what came with this life but Drew says he's a BS champion, but Priest says he's still a champion. Priest tells Drew to find a mirror and blame that asshole for all his faults. He wanted to cash in on Seth Rollins but Drew stopped that from happening multiple times and that's on him, at Wrestlemania all he had to do was leave with his wife, but instead he saw Punk and made him more important than himself, the title, and his wife, all after he got his ass kicked by a one armed man. Priest says once Drew is cleared he'll get a shot at the World Title, but warns Drew after he beats him he'll be eating his words and everyone can rise to that.
  
• Iyo Sky is interviewed after her victory, she rips the mic away and speaks in Japanese and motions to herself being crowned Queen of the Ring.
  
• Priest walks into the Judgement Day locker room and Dom tells him that despite their history Priest should work together with Carlito. Carlito says they all agree Rey is a selfish bastard and they could all benefit from this relationship. Priest says if the boys want to work with him it's on them, but he doesn't want him around. Carlito get he doesn't trust him, but even the most stubborn minds could be changed.
  
• Chad Gable is talking to the Alpha Academy, he tells Maxxine she blew her opportunity at Queen of the Ring and embarrassed the Academy. He tells Otis and Tozawa that he has jobs for them, Otis is going to soften up Sami Zayn and tells him to not do any funny business, he needs serious Otis and tells Tozawa not to blow his opportunity against Bronson Reed. Gable and the rest walk off as Maxxine stays behind, Ivy asks Max why she didn't tell her about the Queen of the Ring opportunity and says they could have trained together. Maxxine explains that Gable doesn't want her training outside of the Academy when Gable storms back in and tells Max to stop standing around and get to training. He tells Ivy she has potential and she shouldn't be wasting it on Taylor "Not so" Swift over here.
  
• Kofi Kingston is interviewed before his match with GUNTHER. Kofi says he's familiar with doing the unthinkable but tonight is about payback for what GUNTHER did to his boy Xavier Woods. Kofi says last night he went toe to toe with the greatest luchador of all time and he's not just winning this tournament for himself, he's doing this for Woods. Woods says because of GUNTHER he can't defend his crown, but he can think of no one better than Kofi to become king.
  
• Lillian Garcia returns to do the ring announcements for Kofi vs GUNTHER! She tells Samantha Irvin that she's doing an incredible job and she is making them all proud.
  
• R-Truth is talking to Adam Pearce and says he thinks he has a great idea for their tag titles. Miz walks in and says Truth better not putting their titles on the line again when Pearce explains that he is giving the Raw tag division and opportunity to become number one contenders tonight. Kiana James enters the office and tells Pearce she was thankful for their meeting over the phone last week but is looking forward to showing him why she is the top 1% and show off how well she can adjudicate. Truth questions if you should really do that at the workplace and asks if that's PG.
  
• Lyra Valkyria is interviewed, she says Damage CTRL better get used to seeing her and says she'll always have Becky's back. Becky comes by and thanks Lyra for the help last week and says they gotta stick together before walking off. Liv Morgan comes up and welcomes Lyra to Raw, but asks her if Becky has always been such a bitch but Lyra tells her to asks her herself and Liv turns to find Becky standing behind her. Becky punches Liv and tells her she isn't the one afraid of a face to face fight, bitch.
  
• Backstage Karrion Kross tells Kofi it was a tough loss, but there is always time to turn things around and walks off. Woods gives Kofi some ice and asks what he wanted but Kofi says he doesn't know.
  
• Ludwig Kaiser chastises an interviewer for trying to interview GUNTHER after his match. She says that she wanted to ask about GUNTHER's history with the other competitors in this tournament since Ilja beat him the last time they faced off, and the last time he faced Jey Uso he won due to Imperium, the same way he beat Sheamus last week. Ludwig says that Sheamus has done a lot in his career and Sheamus should be thanking him for what he did last week and should be standing beside him but instead it is up to him to embarrass Sheamus now.
  
• Adam Pearce is interviewed but before he can make his announcement about the World Tag Team Championships, the New Catch Republic walk in and Tyler Bate thanks Adam for the opportunity and Pearce says he is sanctioning a fatal four way to determine the number 1 contenders for the World Tag Team Championships. Adam is asked why he didn't allow Bron Breakker into the King of the Ring tournament and he explains he didn't want to throw Bron into the deep end but Bron walks in and say anyone he faced in that tournament would be in the deep end with him and he'd drown them all.
  
• Lyra Valkyria is interviewed after her victory, she says she's a former NXT Women's Champion and she travels as the crow flies, straight to the top and speaks something in Irish.
  
• Backstage Jey Uso says Drew McIntyre couldn't cut it so they threw your boy into the King of the Ring and promises to give a yeet down to both Ilja and GUNTHER on his path to becoming King.
  
• Chad Gable berates Otis in the ring following his loss and shoves him which casues Sami to rush back into the ring and attacks Chad and sets up for the Helluva Kick but Gable ducks out of the ring. Otis picks him up and apologizes but Chad slaps him and walks to the back.
  
• Backstage JD McDonough warns Braun Strowman to keep out of Judgement Day business, Braun laughs him off to the Creed Brothers and wishes them luck tonight.
  
• Following Becky's match, Lyra Valkyria runs in to make the save, throwing out Dakota and Kairi before squaring off with Iyo as Becky takes her out. Lyra and Becky stand tall until Liv ambushes Becky from behind.
  
• Ilja Dragunov is interviewed backstage, he says that some people think it is their dream or destiny to be here, but for him it is not enough to just be here and it all starts with him being the Czar of the Ring. He says he'll bring the same kind of fight to Jey Uso tonight, he knows Jey is ready for battle but he is standing across the ring from a different kind of animal, he is a mad dragon and he has beaten GUNTHER! GUNTHER appears behind Ilja and stares him down as Ilja breathes heavily.
  
• Ilja is preparing for his match when a suit-clad Ricochet enters and tells him he earned his respect last week but next time the result won't be the same before wishing him luck in getting the crown.
  
• Backstage Damian asks Dom if he's good with Rhea when Finn, JD, and Carlito storm in celebrating their victory. Priest tells Carlito what happened out there was cool but asks Carlito if he's going to handle his business with Rey because the crew doesn't roll with cowards.
  

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• Be sure to follow @WWE on Twitter and Like WWE on Facebook! You can download the official WWE App on iTunes so Michael Cole shuts up about it!
  
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I tells ya, so much falls into place here. This comes from Helen Hardacre's book Kurozumikyō and the New Religions of Japan, Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey, 1986. First, some background:

The contemporary religious scene in Japan is commonly divided into the "established religions" (kisei shūkyō) and the "new religions" (shinshūkō). These categories are further divided into Buddhist- and Shintō-derived varieties of each as well as into further subcategories.

The titular "Kurozumikyō" is a Shintō new religion founded in 1814 by the Shintō priest Kurozumi Munetada. As of this publication, it had a total membership of 220,000.

Founded by a priest of the "established" Shintō tradition, it is one of the oldest of the so-called new religions and seems to combine aspects of both new and established types. (p. 3)
THE NEW RELIGIONS OF JAPAN
The new religions and their members represent an important and distinctive sector of Japanese society. In spite of the great variety of their doctrines, new religions share a unity of aspiration and world view significantly different from those of secular society and from the so-called established religions. New religions constitute the most vital sector of Japanese religion today and include perhaps 30 percent of the nation's population in their membership. (p. 3)

A source I read recently noted that the Soka Gakkai grew from poaching members of other new religions; it seems this demographic was the most fluid and changeable of Japan's religious demographic. However, at just 30% of the population, even if the Soka Gakkai had managed to claim 100% of these new religions' memberships, it would still have fallen short of Ikeda's self-defined minimum requirement of 1/3 of the population.

Among the doctrines of the new religions there is great variety, since doctrine frequently originates in revelations to a founder. (p. 5)

Here is the Soka Gakkai's version:

• The enlightenment attained by President Toda in prison is the prime point of Soka Buddhism.

Founders tend to be charismatic individuals who attract a following through faith healing rather than through ordination and textual erudition.

The Soka Gakkai version:

• Ikeda: "Every disease can be cured by Gohonzon!"

Also here and here and especially HERE - DEFINITELY with the "faith healing".
As far as the "textual erudition" goes, Toda's post-WWII lectures on the Lotus Sutra were expected to be accepted as the "gold standard" of textual interpretation, and today, SGI members study Ikeda's lectures on texts rather than the texts themselves - see here and here. Who needs any priest??

The new religions tend to recruit their following through evangelistic proselytization and dramatic conversion, at least in the first generation. They promise followers "this-worldly-benefits" in the form of healing, solution of family problems, and material prosperity. In ethics they emphasize family solidarity and qualities of sincerity, frugality, harmony, diligence, and filial piety. Between laity and leaders there is only a vague dividing line, and for the most part, anyone may acquire leadership credentials, including women. Frequently the new religions recognize no sacred centers but those of their own history. (pp. 5-6)

While the Soka Gakkai initially embraced pilgrimages ("tozan") to the Nichiren Shoshu Head Temple Taiseki-ji, their regular activities were centered on Soka Gakkai buildings ("kaikan", or "centers") rather than on Nichiren Shoshu temples. In fact, this was an early source of conflict, as the Nichiren Shoshu priesthood justifiably questioned WHY the Soka Gakkai was putting so much more effort and resources into building NEW Soka Gakkai centers than on building Nichiren Shoshu temples, which would have been the proper function of any religion's legitimate lay organization. Add to that the bad optics of Ikeda's cult's attempted steeplejacking of established Nichiren Shoshu temples, and there was DEFINITELY something rotten in Denmark, so to speak. The Soka Gakkai's focus was trained on IKEDA rather than on the priests of the order they supposedly belonged to as a lay organization. That's some fucked up priorities and it was only a matter of time before that became an open, obvious problem. Of course Ikeda hoped to delay that reckoning until he was in a position to seize the entire Nichiren Shoshu religion for himself. Too bad, so sad, the Nichiren Shoshu priesthood headed him off at the pass and spoiled all his beautiful plots.

The world view of the Japanese new religions conceives of the individual, society, nature, and the universe as an integrated system vitalized by a single principle. Every level represents the manifestation of that principle on a larger scale. The relationships among the levels, however, are not static. They must be maintained in balance, harmony, and congruence. These qualities are manifested in conditions of happiness, health, social stability, abundant harvests, and regular succession of the seasons (free of such calamities as flood, drought, and major earthquakes). The opposite conditions (unhappiness, illness, social unrest, scarcity of food, and natural disasters) are symptomatic of a lack of harmony or congruence. Everything is interconnected so that a change in one dimension, no matter how small, eventually ripples out and affects other dimensions in a larger context. Religious practice is a striving for continuous integration of self with the body, society, nature, and the universe. This involves careful management of the most basic components: the self, the faculties of mind and emotion, and the personality. (pp. 11-12)

This thinking was the basis for Nichiren's Rissho Ankoku Ron, or "On Establishing the etc. & whatever".
Here is the chart that illustrates this thinking; you can clearly see the basis for "A great human revolution in just a single individual will help achieve a change in the destiny of a nation and, further, can even enable a change in the destiny of all humankind". There is no scientific basis for this kind of delusion; ignorant people just LIKE believing it. "Look how IMPORTANT and INFLUENTIAL I am!! Everything is all about MEEE!!!" The Soka Gakkai has been in existence (in a continuous state) for some 80 years now; if this sort of thing DID happen, we'd see it. We already know Ikeda had such high hopes for his followers, but the truth is that the membership never lived up to Ikeda's expectations. No "world leaders" emerged from Soka Gakkai ranks; they didn't even become rich! That simply isn't something that happens because of "this practice", no matter how much Ikeda misled all the gullibles. Daimoku is obviously NOT "the perfect solution for all problems".

Although the new religions inevitably adopt the system I have just described, they state it in different idioms. They may use Buddhist, Shintō, or colloquial terms for the self, calling it variously the kokoro (heart-mind or heart), konjō (guts), *reikon (spirit), tamashii (soul), and other terms. Similarly, they may name the principle vitalizing all existence by Shintō, Buddhist, or other terms: kami-nature, Buddha-nature, karma, ki, yōki, and so forth. They may predicate the existence of a variety of supernaturals who exist on a different plane than human beings, intervening in human affairs from time to time. These may be kami, Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, or ancestors. Alien to the system is the notion of a single deity standing outside the whole and manipulating it by means of an unknowable will. The supernaturals of the integrated system are subject to its rhythms and generally conform to its principles. The system is compatible with a variety of cosmological ideas and world pictures, including horizontal and vertical cosmologies seen in Japanese myths and in Buddhism's many-tiered realms of existence. (pp. 12-14)
Because self-cultivation is the primary task of all, textual erudition, esoteric ritual, and the observance of abstinences are rejected or relegated to secondary significance.

Because "Earthly desires ARE enlightenment", right?? And all that other Buddhism stuff, well, that's all obsolete now, "as useless as last year's calendar", right??

The notion of kokoro is a hallmark of Japanese culture, and it is the central pillar of the world view of the new religions. Consider the following proverb, one that could be endorsed by the new religions and is a stock saying in secular society: "Both suffering and happiness depend on how we bear the kokoro." Kokoro is borne or carried in a certain way, good or bad, and according to that we suffer or are happy. We are in control. An ordinary, nonreligious interpretation of this proverb would say that our attitude toward circumstances determines in large part whether we are happy or unhappy, or that an attitude of "positive thinking" can improve our experience of unfavorable situations even if the circumstances are not thereby altered. (p. 19)

You can see Ikeda alluding to this here:

Even a man who has great wealth, social recognition and many awards may still be shadowed by indescribable suffering deep in his heart. On the other hand, an elderly woman who is not fortunate financially, leading a simple life alone, may feel the sun of joy and happiness rising in her heart each day.

An interpretation of the proverb among the new religions is likely to be much stronger, to hold that human beings certainly have the power to be happy, depending solely on the manner in which one bears kokoro. We need only exercise that power by self-cultivation.

And remember - NO COMPLAINING!!

Moreover, the idea that circumstances can be changed by the power of diligently cultivated kokoro is pervasive. It is a question not only of a change of attitude but sometimes of radical material change, such as an improvement in economic situation or a miraculous healing. It is understood that the cultivated kokoro has the power also to change external persons and events, and that nothing is impossible. Exercising the full power fo the kokoro is possible for anyone who practices self-cultivation through the spiritual disciplines of the particular religious group. (pp. 19-20)

Isn't that the whole basis for the idea of "human revolution"? How else could anyone understand "You can chant for whatever you want!"? Don't the Dead-Ikeda-cult SGI culties love to talk about "making the impossible possible"?? Hmm..I wonder why they never do...🤨
Here Ikeda likens the Soka Gakkai practice to the magic lamp of the "Aladdin" story. And it only works for Soka Gakkai members, of course.

We chant to make the impossible possible, we want extraordinary, not ordinary. Let's get those benefits flowing, let's appreciate those challenges that allow us to grow and win and share those victories with others so that they can be inspired and win. Source

While the terminology of the self is basic to understanding Japanese constructions of self, the patterns of action and affect in which these are embedded constitute the functioning of the world view of the new religions. Here I identify four such patterns:

(1) the idea that "other people are mirrors,"

(2) the exchange of gratitude and repayment of favor,
(3) the quest for sincerity, and
(4) the adherence to paths of self-cultivation.
So much for the supposed "novelty" of Dickeata's supposedly eternal "clear mirror guidance", eh? Oh, and EVERYBODY owes Scamsei and the SGI their eternal gratitude, too, and you NEVER EVER get to finish your "human revolution" ("self-cultivation")!

Each of these patterns represents an indispensable element of Japanese culture, and thus their implementation in Japanese religions is not unique. (p. 21)

Nope. The Soka Gakkai is just bog standard for a Japanese New Religion. Nothing unique or special. Just like all the rest.

The idea that other people are mirrors makes the individual totally responsible in all circumstances. Although the burden is heavy, there is also a tacit message that the self can control any situation. Placing blame and responsibility on the individual also denies the idea that "society" can be blamed for one's problems; hence concepts of exploitation and discrimination are ruled out of consideration. On the whole the new religions are uninterested in political action to improve society; to them it is a question of individuals improving themselves individually and collectively through self-cultivation. (p. 23)

Remember, this author ISN'T talking about Soka Gakkai here! This a feature of ALL Japan's new religions!

Since self-cultivation is the primary determiner of all human affairs, notions of fate or divine wrath (karma or bachi, for example) are reinterpreted, ignored, or denied.

Or introduced when necessary to blame a member when the promises of SGI leaders are proven empty and false. It's always the MEMBERSHIP's fault somehow, never that the teachings are wrong or deceptive.

In like manner, because of the primacy of self-cultivation, the concept of pollution cannot be fully credited, and this opens the door to greater participation by women than is the case in the established religions.

In the case of the Soka Gakkai, "greater participation by women" has been implemented as "greater exploitation of women". The women of the Soka Gakkai were expected to deliver daily newspapers for no pay throughout the Soka Gakkai's history; it is only recently that their numbers have declined so catastrophically and they have aged so much that the Soka Gakkai finally had to contract with a delivery service - which of course Soka Gakkai has to PAY now. Newspapers are SO much more profitable when you can find some suckers to deliver them at no cost to YOU!

Thus the new religions stress unquestioning performance of their established disciplines, fully aware that the demand for uncomprehending obedience (at least iat the beginning) will cause the convert frustration. Also involved as a minor theme is the pedagogical principle that "physical action can be perceived as isomorphic with spiritual change." Thus, for example, polishing floors can be assumed to "polish" the self. If one enters through form, eventually the kokoro will follow.

Speaking of exploiting women, who else heard that when women were cleaning the toilets for free at the local SGI center, they were "cleaning their karma"??

The hardship entailed is not to be avoided; no one denies that it is punishing to polish floors by hand, recite sutras, or endure cold water ablutions. Hardship in itself is virtuous and confers compassion and maturity.

Isn't that the essence of SGI's much-vaunted "youth division training"? Basically, it's SGI leaders getting off on forcing young people to do all sorts of scut work and to engage in unpleasant activities just because they can - somebody has to do the grunt work, right? Make THEM do it! Tell them it's "training" when actually it's just training them to allow themselves to be exploited. For a funny example of this attitude, see how this colossal doofus was trying to cajole and coerce his employee into joining SGI before he aged out of the youth division, so he could get him some of that gooooood "youth division training"!!

Meanwhile, now I worry about Chad, who has only a few months left to obtain YMD training, to whom I had to slip September Living Buddhism under his door, since his subscription is on the internet, and I want him to start working on the Introductory Exam material. Yesterday he did not answer or reply when he was supposed to be at work. (He is paid per day of work from his home.) Today when I arrived he was not even there. So I have been chanting for his welfare. He recently reported to me a medical difficulty he has that may be interfering with his efforts, or worse.

That's ONE way to duck an annoying self-important SGI stalker-nag! "Sorry, can't talk - have the plague..."

All the new religions agree that a person's real potential cannot be fulfilled without suffering, and in this they share with secular society the suspicion about someone who has failed that perhaps kurō ga tarinai, "the person hasn't suffered enough." That is, if one had endured sufficient trials before the present ordeal, one could have conquered this hardship. Accordingly it is important to establish how much leaders and founders have suffered in the course of their own self-cultivation. (p. 28)

See More myths about how the young Ikeda suffered so much and was so sickly wah wah

All problems can be traced to insufficient cultivation of self. Thus it is misguided to expect fundamental social change from political ideology. Instead, society can be improved only through collective moral improvement, the doctrine of meliorism. Similarly, attempting to cure disease simply by treating the body alone is useless. Healing can come about only through rededication to ethical values; hence medicine is effective only in a provisional way. Education and secular achievements apart from faith and cultivation of self are houses of cards, castles on sand. Accordingly, media-sponsored presentation of thoroughly secularized views of life are disapproved. (p. 14)

You can see the clearest examples of this thinking in the teachings of Ikeda and the Soka Gakkai from the 1960s, before people understood how immediate and pervasive "political ideology" could effect fundamental social change, as in the US when the anti-race-mixing "anti-miscegenation" interracial marriage legal prohibitions were swept away in the US Supreme Court's 1967 judgment on "Loving v. Virginia". That changed society more fundamentally and pervasively than any religion's doctrines that people's "hearts" must be changed FIRST before anyone could hope to see societal change realized, or in the terms above, "collective moral improvement". No. Remove unjust laws and establish penalties for behaving unjustly, and voilà! Society changes!
See SGI is actively OPPOSED to social justice and thus will NEVER contribute meaningfully to world peace and More on why SGI will never make any significant changes to society.
Back when Japan's medical system was primitive, with limited availability, the new religions advertised "faith healing", as seen above and here. But as medical care improved and, most importantly, became widely accessible, that became people's healing option of choice, so the new religions (and all the rest) had to drop it as a selling point, because nobody was buying it any more. Within the ignorant and indoctrinated ranks of SGI members, we can STILL see claims of "faith healing"; they apparently don't realize this isn't a compelling sales pitch any more. Except that in house, the superstitious, magical-thinking culties still eat it up with a spoon 🙄
But you can see Ikeda here explaining that medicine is unnecessary to treat various ills; there must be a "faith" component or the treatment will inevitably be ineffective. OR that having faith will make even a nonsensical nontreatment effective! Also slamming medicine as harmful and condemning members as somehow "deserving" of terrible illnesses.
And remember when Ikeda told "girls" they didn't need to go to college? That was fun. And how Icky denigrated university graduates??
Let's not forget how the Soka Gakkai has always been anti-union and has never established any charitable services anywhere, not even for the needy within its own struggling membership.

Lacking justification for a strong differentiation between the religious lives of priests and laity, the tendency to make the laity central is strong and pervasive. (p. 14)

This was a primary issue within the Soka Gakkai that festered until Ikeda brought it to a full boil out of his obsessive desire to BE the object of worship. The Soka Gakkai/Nichiren Shoshu alliance, while expedient for the Soka Gakkai and undeniably profitable for Nichiren Shoshu, was nonetheless an uneasy alliance, given the Soka Gakkai's defining characteristics as a "new religion" and Nichiren Shoshu's "established religion" status. Those two simply don't mix. Especially on this last point, you can see that it is a characteristic of a "new religion" to have the fundamental attitude that "priests are unnecessary". Ikeda simply wanted to USE Nichiren Shoshu for his OWN convenience, in service to HIS plans, instead of directing the Soka Gakkai to function as a legitimate lay organization whose focus was their religion, Nichiren Shoshu. Ikeda made it all about himself and his goal of maximizing his own power and control. Ikeda was never a religious person.

I have a pair of the Wade 808 3 Ultra V2.
I tried them on and they formed my foot like a sock which was great! However, when I started playing in them I could feel pressure on my right achilles tendon. I thought it was blistering at first because it had that "feel" but when I took them off there was no signs of blistering which was weird.
So I started thinking if it was my tendon acting funny, I mainly play volleyball with them so I'm not doing quick lateral movements too much.
My left foot feels great! No issues at all with the shoe or my foot. It's my right tendon feeling weird.
Is there anyone else that experiences this or is it just me? I never had this issue with other shoes.

Scene 1, Yuhi challenging Yudias to a Rush Duel (S1E1):

• Yuamu: Yuhi, this guy's an actual alien, and you said you wanted to Rush Duel them, no?
• Yuhi: Hey, Yudias! This contact between man and alien is 8 million years in the making, and I want you to Rush Duel me as commemoration of this day! If I win, you'll have to give back the Earthdamar you stole from me!
• Yudias: A Rush Duel?
• Yuamu: Sorry if you didn't get what my brother's saying. Rush Duels are a popular card game among the children of Earth, and my brother's always wanted to Rush Duel with an alien. The Earthdamar is-
• Yudias: So you want me to challenge you in a Rush Duel.
• Yuhi: Huh?
• Yudias: Gravity off. (added into dub when Yudias and the others drop to the ground)
• Yuhi: You could've warned us about that first. (added into dub) Say, you don't look alien at all. Are you trying to trick me, Yudias the human?
• Yudias: I accept your request, Earthling. We will settle this conflict in a Rush Duel.
• Yuhi: Yeah! Now that's what I'm talking about! Let's see here...
• Yudias: What are you doing, Earthling?
• Yuhi: What do you mean? I'm just preparing for our Rush Duel. I just gotta make sure I have the right cards in my deck real quick.
• Yudias: Do you think you can deceive me that easily, Earthling?!
• Yuhi: "Deceive you?"
• Yudias: Then challenge me to a real Rush Duel, at this moment! (pulls out unopened booster packs)
• Yuhi & Yuamu: Huh?

Scene 2, Yudias learning about Rush Duels:

• Yuamu & Yuhi: Hmm?
• Yuamu: These packs look new and unopened, but why would an alien think unopened packs are Rush Duels?
• Yuhi: I think I understand, (to Yudias) you're new to Rush Duels and haven't actually played 'em before. (takes packs from Yudias) I'll open up your packs. (beginning to open one) Now, when you open up card packs, you have to be careful not to cut the cards inside. There! (latter line added into dub a moment before Yuhi fully cut open the pack)
• Yudias: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!
• Yuhi: Oh, sorry, did you want to open these yourself?
• Yudias: (takes "Rush Duel" from Yuhi) How could you have destroyed one of my Rush Duels?!
• Yuhi & Yuamu: Huh?
• Yudias: Rise! (added into dub a moment before Yuhi is sent flying on the platform)
• Yuhi: Whaa!?!
• Yuamu: What the?
• Yudias: Energy ring! (added into dub a moment before Yuhi is bound by electric shackles)
• Yuhi: (screams as the walls open to reveal the Velgearians) WHAT'S HAPPENING?!? (added into dub as the Velgearians are revealed up close) Wh-Who are these people? (added into dub in the middle of the zoom-out, the Velgear chanting removed) Wh-What do they want?
• Yudias: All 9 million of my followers, the Earthling destroyed my Rush Duel! And a chance of a better future for us... Tell me how he should be repaid for this crime?
• Velgearians: Punishment! Punishment! Punishment! Punishment!
• Yuhi: "P-Punishment?" [Yuamu: Hmm... (added into dub as Yuamu walks to Yudias)] What are you gonna do to me?!?
• Yuamu: Um... (gets Yudias' attention) I think you should look inside that pack.
• Yudias: Hmm? (opens pack to reveal five cards inside)

Dialogue added into dub during the shot of Yudias finding the cards:

• Yudias: What are these?
• Yuamu: It's the cards inside that are used to play Rush Duels, not the booster pack.
• Yudias: (takes cards out) Oh...

Continued dialogue during dub:

• Yudias: So these... Are Rush Duels?
• Yuamu: (shows cards in her hand) The orange and yellow cards are Monster Cards, and the turqoise and pink cards are Magic and Trap Cards.
• Yudias: How could we have missed such a glorious concept? (to his followers) All 9 million followers, we have just uncovered the true meaning behind Rush Duels! This Earth game will help lead our people to a better future and peace among our brethren!
• Velgearians: Yudias! Yudias! Yudias!
• Yudias: Ring off. (added into dub as Yudias frees Yuhi from the electric shackles) (to Yuhi) I apologize for my prior behavior, Earthling.
• Yuhi: N-No problem! Cutting open card packs is what I do best!

(I'm not gonna fandub the rest of that scene)
What do you guys think? Have any funny dub dialogue that you think could happen for real?