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Hi everyone, I need your help, I want to write a Precure fanfiction named Universe History Precure, the team has 10 members, the first 5 members are the members since the beginning, the other 5 members were first a rival team named Sword Charge Precure. The Cures are about 15 to 18 years old, the leader is the youngest and the strongest of the team. The Cures are also the reincarnations of many Cures of past eras. They'll also travel to many universes like Yugioh, Winx Club, Voltron legendary defender etc. One of the cures is a former villain, one of the cures is a princess from a other world. 3 of the cures are K-Pop stars, they are part of a fictional K-Pop group who's in the story the most famous girl group in the world. The team is supported by 11 fairies including a baby mascot. The Precures are also being supported by a organization named Universe Force, who works with governments around the world to protect the world and other universes. The enemies are the Dark Dimension Empire, and one of the cures is the daughter of the rulers of the Dark Dimension Empire. And the other enemy is a ancient atlantian man named Liax who was in love with the leader's Ancient Atlantian past life, but he was rejected and he was corrupted by a evil god who wanted to defeat the cures, but the cures sealed him for ten thousand years. Also a other enemy is a devil who is the father of the leader's demon past life who wants to resurrect her. The leader of the team is also a reincarnation of a demon goddess who was feared for her powers, she has a hairclip and necklace to calm herself down because her demon powers are very strong when she has negative emotions. Universe history Precure has 5 or 6 seasons, the cures will age and mature in the seasons. The leader will get special training from her ancient atlantian past life's grandmother to get more stronger.
But how should I write Universe history Precure with this storyline?

I took a week off of work and college had started their two-week break before the next semester. I took my chance and cleared my calendar and booked a trip to the town where my grandfather stayed while he was a journalist. The greyhound ride was a good time for me to figure out my approach, while the busy cityscape outside my window slowly faded into Southern African wilderness, nothing but trees and empty kilometers of road before I reached my stop, a homely town that seemed well connected to the rest despite the distance. It had been many years since my grandfather had set foot in this town, yet I could feel his influence. The roads were now cracked and showed their wear, shops and residences had been renovated and upgraded, looking more modern and slightly out of place.
The hotel my grandfather stayed at while on the investigation was now a more comfortable looking lodge, with a view over the rolling foothills of the Drakensberg and the surrounding cities, one of which I could see my home, vaguely. The sun had begun to set and I still needed to get my information from the residents. I unpacked my things after booking my room and set out, like a tourist with a pen and notebook in hand asking anyone what they may know. To no one’s surprise, they mostly looked at me like I was insane or a knock off Leon Schuster trying to get them to react in a funny way. I had almost given up completely until I sat near one of the social areas where they would light a fire and residents at the lodge would sit and relax while watching the sun go down. I was alone there and just sat drawing the distant landscape dreading the silence for the next week while I waited for the next bus to arrive and I’d return home. Two days passed in mainly silence.
That was until a man sat near me, dressed in weathered jeans and an old top with work boots covered in dust and dirt, his face obscured by a large hat covering his face, his hands in his pockets even as he sat but his arms almost looked skeleton like, his long white hair flowing from either side of his hat.
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling like he was trying to get my attention.
“No, but I can help you. You cause quite a lot of noise, trying to get the people to talk about something that scares them.” He said, his voice didn’t come across as harsh, more like cautious. The first person who decided to talk to me in a casual manner since a couple days ago. He wanted to tell me what I wanted to know.
Without any hesitation I turned to the page I set aside for notes when the man chuckled.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“You’re going to need more pages than that.” He said, flicking his hat up slightly while he sat back and got comfortable.
“Trust me, this is all I need.” I said feeling like I had to tiptoe around the subject as to not let the opportunity slip, but I also felt overwhelmingly anxious, almost like someone else was watching us. I felt my gaze shift every so often over my shoulder trying to find the entity that was staring a hole through me, apart from a quiet street crossing and some pedestrians; nothing.
“Something there?” Asked the man, as I shook off the feeling. I started getting a bit annoyed by the short answers and questions.
“Just feel like-, never mind. If you’re ready to help give me some information, what should I call you?” I asked as the man took a moment.
“Call me ‘Farmhand’. Since it’ll sound better than my real name, you’ll find that out in time.” Said Farmhand as I wrote that down in my notebook and began phrasing the question in my mind as to get the proper answer. Furiously tapping my pen on the page.
“Just ask, I already know what you want to know.” He said, I looked up from the page, slightly irritated by the confidence.
“How can you be so sure, Farmhand?” I blurted.
“You aren’t the first person to go on this goose chase. The Lady in White is very particular in her targets.” Farmhand explained, I wrote down everything.
“What’s her story, like the true story; why does she haunt this stretch of road?” I asked. Farmhand chuckled.
“She doesn’t haunt, she’s simply looking for a lift.” He said in the distinct Afrikaans twang that so many white South Africans have, it’s by no means ominous, more of a conversation encouragement than anything else.
“A lift? To where?” I asked. I heard so many different types of tales, from her being hostile to men, a companion to young women and a bit of both to younger males. But the main part that stayed the same was that they were alone.
“Her matric dance, my seun.” Farmhand said, the only other person to call me ‘Seun’ was my dad, the Afrikaans for son.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, pen at the ready.
“The legend goes far back, but the main story that my pa always told me was that she was with her boyfriend in the car, they went along this road and broke down; one of the worst places to break down since around eight is when the busses shut down and the last train has departed from the station. She chose to try down the street, bearing in mind how dangerous that is these days, it was a little bit less so then.” Farmhand said as he took off his hat, keeping his gaze at the setting sun.
“How much less dangerous?” I asked.
“Snakes, though the venomous Boomslang doesn’t go out of its way to kill you, no Black Mamba’s live up here. No, we have jackals and caracals, they hunt in packs and pick you off in the dead of night.” Farmhand explained.
“Is that how it happened, how she died?” Farmhand chuckled lightly.
“Nope, she saw a car in the distance and flagged them down, asked them to help take her to town or help her boyfriend. The man took her up the road and when they started to approach where she had broken down, the boyfriend tried flagging them down. Her joy turned to terror as the stranger sped up and before the boyfriend knew it, the car had hit him. The last she saw of him was him tumbling down the hill among the trees.” Farmhand said. Placing his hat on his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a short silence, I asked:
“What happened next?”
“Well, the girl was hysterical, the car was still speeding up and she yelled at the man to stop, and kept pleading for him to let her go. Eventually the man had stopped, the girl got out and started calling to the boyfriend to see if he had somehow survived, as she did, the stranger hit her on the back of her head and had his way with her.” Farmhand said, provoking a sour taste in my mouth, a sheer sense of guilt welled up in my stomach.
“Now I understand why no one was willing to tell me the story.” I said, slightly defeated. The man put a hand on my knee like my grandfather used to and looked me in the eye. For the first time I noticed his wrinkled but kind face, he smiled.
“It’s not a story everyone can stomach. Come, let’s finish this so you can write your story.” Farmhand said as he sat back on the couch, a thought struck me; was I so obvious that he knew I was a journalist writing a story? Because I don’t remember ever disclosing the fact I was a journalist. Regardless, we continued.
“After the stranger- did the act, what happened?” I asked uneasily, feeling sick to my stomach.
“He put her in his car, and drove back to the spot where they broke down, but a half a kilometer away she woke up and he pushed her out of the car at high speed. She should’ve died there, but she crawled, half her body scratched, scraped and broken. She died slowly and alone. Before she died she heard her boyfriend calling for her.” Farmhand continued.
“Did he ever find her?”
There was silence, even the birds had stopped chirping and the street had gone quiet.
“No, I don’t believe he did. Whether or not he died looking is another story, but that’s not what you’re here for.” The Farmer said as he stood up, placed his hat on his head and began to walk off, before he passed me, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.
“Promise me one thing; be careful. Can you do that for me, Alex?” Farmhand said before he patted me on the shoulder and walked off without waiting for my answer. I turned to confront him but he was gone, it couldn’t have been more than a second, but it was like he vanished into thin air. I was left confused and bewildered. The notes were real, the pen marks solid and clear. The events I was informed of felt vivid, yet the silence that fell around me felt otherworldly. I was feeling lost and exhausted before, now I was more awake than I had ever been.
Around eight that night, the sun had set and the mountain had cast a chilling shadow over the down I stayed, sleet had been reported near us and snow on the mountain. If I was going to get the answer I so desperately wanted, I was going to have to earn it. I walked to my car, steam cascading from my nostrils as the cold air turned frigid with even the slightest of breezes. I got in my car and drove to the first rest point along the mountain to gather some supplies: Some water and snacks, a couple of pre-charged battery packs for my recorder as I don’t want to stop every fifteen to twenty minutes to write down my experience. This would also prove if I was going insane or not, when asked by a couple of the staff at the store, I told them my intentions and they sounded interested for the first time. When I left I tested the packs and sure enough; fully charged and my recorder was clean and ready to be used.
I approached the entrance to the mountain pass that had been the setting for this ghost story that has latched on to me since childhood. No street lamps, no signs, yet the road itself was painted brightly and every so often a glowing marker was placed to ensure you knew when to turn and when to slow down. The threshold felt like a portal, the point where light didn’t reach and would not pass, even down to the road, where it was light, it looked traveled on, occupied and used; the mountain pass looked pristine; almost as if it hadn’t been touched for decades. As I looked beyond the pass, far below what was called the foothills of the Drakensberg, a large highway was built, the lights from the cars, the lamps and signs glowed for kilometers in the distance. After delaying for twenty minutes, I turned my car on, flicked on the high-beams and began my journey.
Every few minutes I would check my recorder, to make sure it was on and still functioning, it lay on the passenger seat in plain view, I could see some bright lights giving me the information if the screen was somehow obscured. It was a long while before anything happened. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was anxiety, whatever it was wouldn’t stop me from exploring this legend. Worst thing that could happen is I travel sixty kilometers and nothing happens and it turns out my grandfather was just trying to scare me. I turned again after a lengthy passage of time and I got my answer.
I don’t remember stopping, I don’t even think I saw anyone on the side of the road, maybe it was while I was looking at my recorder, but I felt a cold presence behind me.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Asked a voice, a quiet but feminine voice. A chill erupted throughout my body; a violent sense of panic coursed through my mind because I knew where the sound came from. It came from behind me. My hands began to shake but I dared not take my hands away from the wheel.
“Do you?” It asked again. The answer got caught in my throat, I found myself unable to speak.
“No, not really.” I managed though my voice felt hoarse.
“You seem to know what you want.” The voice said again, it sounded curious. I stayed silent, the road twisted and wound around the mountain in a chaotic and frantic fashion.
“Are you scared?” She asked again, the voice coming from next to me. I turned to look but a cold hand kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, enough people have died here.” She said, as my nerves calmed slightly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes focused and the world around me much less than an echo.
“Why do you want to know?” She asked, sounding more like she was in a void, her voice had more of an echo than anything else.
“I want to know what happened here. The true story.” I said after taking a breath and gathering my nerves, the road seemed to calm down, from sharp uphill turns to moonlight sweeping curves that allowed my gaze to rest as the shadow of the trees passed us by.
“Can I trust you?” She asked, the question rang through my head as I remember what Farmhand said, how she trusted a stranger who took advantage of her.
“Yes. Yes you can.” I said after a while. The figure turned to me; I could feel her eyes scrutinize every inch of me.
“You’re not like him?” Her questions kept hammering into me, I felt a mix of fear and guilt, knowing who she was referring to.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” I said after a while, gathering a fragile sense of courage as my hands shook furiously. The road seemed to twist and turn, harsh rising hills. Sharp corners told the tale of her many victims as my headlights passed by, the scrapes and dents of hard hits leading to a drop that seemed to have no end, not a single tree could be seen and the moonlight from high above could not pierce the dark veil that lingered joust over the edge of the road. After a while, she spoke again.
“Alright, I trust you.” She said as I allowed my eyes to wander, the figure relaxed in the passenger seat for a while, my recorder on the center console as I saw her blue skin, almost emitting a frozen chill as I saw her dress, torn and tattered, my stomach felt uneasy when I saw bruising and swelling near her inner thighs. Her hands crossed in her lap as I saw the scratches and what looked like deep cuts on her arms and exposed shoulders from the straps on her dress. I could not see much of her face as it seemed her face was bleeding.
“What happened that night?” I asked, concentrating on the road again. My passenger stayed quiet for a while, quietly shuddering and sniffing before she spoke again.
“I was happy, a man I loved decided I would be his date for the matric dance. We’d known each other since we were children. My best friend. We were driving along this road to get to the lodge, where the dance was being held.” Her voice sounded sourly-joyful, her hands didn’t move from her lap much, so as to not distract me with her hand movements.
“It was a while before town, the car started shaking. I thought the tire had blown, but smoke came from the front. We stopped nearby.” She pointed and I could see the flashing of hazard lights and the smell of smoke invaded my nostrils.
“I thought I’d get some help, he said he’d be fine and that I should hurry back. I walked for a while; it was a cold night still. I walked for, I don’t know how long. But I managed to get an old man to stop. He said he’d help; we just need to get my man and he’d sort out the car.” She said as the road began to crack and fall apart at the edge.
“Do you know what he did?” She asked me, I assumed it was a test to see if I was listening.
“He deceived you.” I answered. She nodded, looking down for a short while before continuing.
“He asked why I was alone on this road. I told him I wasn’t, that I was on my way to town with my man, and I told him about who he was, what he meant to me. I was overjoyed when I saw him, my joy turned to confusion, to horror as he sped up and ran him over. I saw his body roll into the trees, I thought for sure he was dead.” She pointed to the part of the road that had a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, marking where her man was hit and last seen by her.
“After I witnessed my childhood innocence be ripped from me, he finally stopped, that butcher! I blacked out with a sharp pain, when next I woke, I couldn't feel my legs and my fingers were numb. Just before I said anything, he pushed me out of his car. I remember falling, the road was like ice, all I could do was crawl.” She said, her anger translating to the road shifting and breaking apart, turning violently uphill only for the sheer drops and sharp turns that threatened to throw me off the edge. I barely managed to keep the car on the road as the road shifted again, it was so silent that I could hear the tires screeching like a distant wail.
“I’ve searched for years, if he’d ever return, I’d make sure he never left like he left me.” She said as the note my grandfather left in his books, the man who was panicked and sketchy, had his autopsy reveal that he was of the elderly group. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I realized that the man who did this to her was probably dead for a while. I weathered her storm of rage as the stretch of road became calm, as did she.
“I’m sorry you suffered like that; I wish there was something I could do.” I said unconsciously. I felt her gaze soften to me; her rage calmed as she went back to her neutral position.
“He was called ‘Farmhand. Because he was trustworthy, kind and reliable..” My eyes widened as the realization crashed on my face: He lived.
“If you aren’t like how he was, then you don’t deserve to leave this road.” Her voice was harsh, the road began to fall apart, the cracks forming as parts fell away like they had been falling apart for years, though my body was fatigued, I kept the car on the road. As uncomfortable as the ride was, the road soon turned into dirt paths, completely unlit and unpredictable. It felt like hours before it returned to normal, albeit slowly, my hands still shook relentlessly. I understood her outrage. I couldn’t imagine the trauma she experienced, the sadness.
“If you would like, I can take you back to town.” I asked. In retrospect, that was a stupid question.
“I don’t know.” She replied, unsure and confused.
“No rush, we have time.” I said as I turned around and began my long drive back to town. The road swerved and waved calmly, completely different to the approach. I drove to the point where The Lady in White was last seen, after a while I parked my car near the spot and looked to my side. The woman wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and my recorder. The sun had begun to rise over the hills, the air was crisp and fresh, I stayed for a while to just take in the sight of a calm morning before turning my recorder off and driving back.
I returned to my hotel room and after placing everything on the desk, I fell onto my bed and fell asleep, my body was exhausted and my mind was fatigued beyond words. I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up in the afternoon. Having something to eat I went over the events from last night, pen and paper at the ready, I prepared to hear myself talking to nothing and no one. The doubt set in before I even hit the play button, after a while of convincing myself that I have some concrete evidence, I pressed play. To my surprise, it sounded like there were two people in the car, me and a woman, although the woman’s voice was covered by static. I wrote down all I could, that is what you’re reading.
The next couple of days went by and nothing special happened, I kept to myself most of the time. While analyzing everything I captured. It all seemed like a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. The last note I made during this investigation was: if something like that exists here, surely more stories remain in this part of the world. As the trees faded into the distance as the bus trundled along the trail back, the forest retreating as I returned back to the concrete and steel, it wasn’t long before the questions I had before, followed me home.

Roaming Road/ Lady in White Part 2

I took a week off of work and college had started their two-week break before the next semester. I took my chance and cleared my calendar and booked a trip to the town where my grandfather stayed while he was a journalist. The greyhound ride was a good time for me to figure out my approach, while the busy cityscape outside my window slowly faded into Southern African wilderness, nothing but trees and empty kilometers of road before I reached my stop, a homely town that seemed well connected to the rest despite the distance. It had been many years since my grandfather had set foot in this town, yet I could feel his influence. The roads were now cracked and showed their wear, shops and residences had been renovated and upgraded, looking more modern and slightly out of place.
The hotel my grandfather stayed at while on the investigation was now a more comfortable looking lodge, with a view over the rolling foothills of the Drakensberg and the surrounding cities, one of which I could see my home, vaguely. The sun had begun to set and I still needed to get my information from the residents. I unpacked my things after booking my room and set out, like a tourist with a pen and notebook in hand asking anyone what they may know. To no one’s surprise, they mostly looked at me like I was insane or a knock off Leon Schuster trying to get them to react in a funny way. I had almost given up completely until I sat near one of the social areas where they would light a fire and residents at the lodge would sit and relax while watching the sun go down. I was alone there and just sat drawing the distant landscape dreading the silence for the next week while I waited for the next bus to arrive and I’d return home. Two days passed in mainly silence.
That was until a man sat near me, dressed in weathered jeans and an old top with work boots covered in dust and dirt, his face obscured by a large hat covering his face, his hands in his pockets even as he sat but his arms almost looked skeleton like, his long white hair flowing from either side of his hat.
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling like he was trying to get my attention.
“No, but I can help you. You cause quite a lot of noise, trying to get the people to talk about something that scares them.” He said, his voice didn’t come across as harsh, more like cautious. The first person who decided to talk to me in a casual manner since a couple days ago. He wanted to tell me what I wanted to know.
Without any hesitation I turned to the page I set aside for notes when the man chuckled.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“You’re going to need more pages than that.” He said, flicking his hat up slightly while he sat back and got comfortable.
“Trust me, this is all I need.” I said feeling like I had to tiptoe around the subject as to not let the opportunity slip, but I also felt overwhelmingly anxious, almost like someone else was watching us. I felt my gaze shift every so often over my shoulder trying to find the entity that was staring a hole through me, apart from a quiet street crossing and some pedestrians; nothing.
“Something there?” Asked the man, as I shook off the feeling. I started getting a bit annoyed by the short answers and questions.
“Just feel like-, never mind. If you’re ready to help give me some information, what should I call you?” I asked as the man took a moment.
“Call me ‘Farmhand’. Since it’ll sound better than my real name, you’ll find that out in time.” Said Farmhand as I wrote that down in my notebook and began phrasing the question in my mind as to get the proper answer. Furiously tapping my pen on the page.
“Just ask, I already know what you want to know.” He said, I looked up from the page, slightly irritated by the confidence.
“How can you be so sure, Farmhand?” I blurted.
“You aren’t the first person to go on this goose chase. The Lady in White is very particular in her targets.” Farmhand explained, I wrote down everything.
“What’s her story, like the true story; why does she haunt this stretch of road?” I asked. Farmhand chuckled.
“She doesn’t haunt, she’s simply looking for a lift.” He said in the distinct Afrikaans twang that so many white South Africans have, it’s by no means ominous, more of a conversation encouragement than anything else.
“A lift? To where?” I asked. I heard so many different types of tales, from her being hostile to men, a companion to young women and a bit of both to younger males. But the main part that stayed the same was that they were alone.
“Her matric dance, my seun.” Farmhand said, the only other person to call me ‘Seun’ was my dad, the Afrikaans for son.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, pen at the ready.
“The legend goes far back, but the main story that my pa always told me was that she was with her boyfriend in the car, they went along this road and broke down; one of the worst places to break down since around eight is when the busses shut down and the last train has departed from the station. She chose to try down the street, bearing in mind how dangerous that is these days, it was a little bit less so then.” Farmhand said as he took off his hat, keeping his gaze at the setting sun.
“How much less dangerous?” I asked.
“Snakes, though the venomous Boomslang doesn’t go out of its way to kill you, no Black Mamba’s live up here. No, we have jackals and caracals, they hunt in packs and pick you off in the dead of night.” Farmhand explained.
“Is that how it happened, how she died?” Farmhand chuckled lightly.
“Nope, she saw a car in the distance and flagged them down, asked them to help take her to town or help her boyfriend. The man took her up the road and when they started to approach where she had broken down, the boyfriend tried flagging them down. Her joy turned to terror as the stranger sped up and before the boyfriend knew it, the car had hit him. The last she saw of him was him tumbling down the hill among the trees.” Farmhand said. Placing his hat on his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a short silence, I asked:
“What happened next?”
“Well, the girl was hysterical, the car was still speeding up and she yelled at the man to stop, and kept pleading for him to let her go. Eventually the man had stopped, the girl got out and started calling to the boyfriend to see if he had somehow survived, as she did, the stranger hit her on the back of her head and had his way with her.” Farmhand said, provoking a sour taste in my mouth, a sheer sense of guilt welled up in my stomach.
“Now I understand why no one was willing to tell me the story.” I said, slightly defeated. The man put a hand on my knee like my grandfather used to and looked me in the eye. For the first time I noticed his wrinkled but kind face, he smiled.
“It’s not a story everyone can stomach. Come, let’s finish this so you can write your story.” Farmhand said as he sat back on the couch, a thought struck me; was I so obvious that he knew I was a journalist writing a story? Because I don’t remember ever disclosing the fact I was a journalist. Regardless, we continued.
“After the stranger- did the act, what happened?” I asked uneasily, feeling sick to my stomach.
“He put her in his car, and drove back to the spot where they broke down, but a half a kilometer away she woke up and he pushed her out of the car at high speed. She should’ve died there, but she crawled, half her body scratched, scraped and broken. She died slowly and alone. Before she died she heard her boyfriend calling for her.” Farmhand continued.
“Did he ever find her?”
There was silence, even the birds had stopped chirping and the street had gone quiet.
“No, I don’t believe he did. Whether or not he died looking is another story, but that’s not what you’re here for.” The Farmer said as he stood up, placed his hat on his head and began to walk off, before he passed me, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.
“Promise me one thing; be careful. Can you do that for me, Alex?” Farmhand said before he patted me on the shoulder and walked off without waiting for my answer. I turned to confront him but he was gone, it couldn’t have been more than a second, but it was like he vanished into thin air. I was left confused and bewildered. The notes were real, the pen marks solid and clear. The events I was informed of felt vivid, yet the silence that fell around me felt otherworldly. I was feeling lost and exhausted before, now I was more awake than I had ever been.
Around eight that night, the sun had set and the mountain had cast a chilling shadow over the down I stayed, sleet had been reported near us and snow on the mountain. If I was going to get the answer I so desperately wanted, I was going to have to earn it. I walked to my car, steam cascading from my nostrils as the cold air turned frigid with even the slightest of breezes. I got in my car and drove to the first rest point along the mountain to gather some supplies: Some water and snacks, a couple of pre-charged battery packs for my recorder as I don’t want to stop every fifteen to twenty minutes to write down my experience. This would also prove if I was going insane or not, when asked by a couple of the staff at the store, I told them my intentions and they sounded interested for the first time. When I left I tested the packs and sure enough; fully charged and my recorder was clean and ready to be used.
I approached the entrance to the mountain pass that had been the setting for this ghost story that has latched on to me since childhood. No street lamps, no signs, yet the road itself was painted brightly and every so often a glowing marker was placed to ensure you knew when to turn and when to slow down. The threshold felt like a portal, the point where light didn’t reach and would not pass, even down to the road, where it was light, it looked traveled on, occupied and used; the mountain pass looked pristine; almost as if it hadn’t been touched for decades. As I looked beyond the pass, far below what was called the foothills of the Drakensberg, a large highway was built, the lights from the cars, the lamps and signs glowed for kilometers in the distance. After delaying for twenty minutes, I turned my car on, flicked on the high-beams and began my journey.
Every few minutes I would check my recorder, to make sure it was on and still functioning, it lay on the passenger seat in plain view, I could see some bright lights giving me the information if the screen was somehow obscured. It was a long while before anything happened. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was anxiety, whatever it was wouldn’t stop me from exploring this legend. Worst thing that could happen is I travel sixty kilometers and nothing happens and it turns out my grandfather was just trying to scare me. I turned again after a lengthy passage of time and I got my answer.
I don’t remember stopping, I don’t even think I saw anyone on the side of the road, maybe it was while I was looking at my recorder, but I felt a cold presence behind me.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Asked a voice, a quiet but feminine voice. A chill erupted throughout my body; a violent sense of panic coursed through my mind because I knew where the sound came from. It came from behind me. My hands began to shake but I dared not take my hands away from the wheel.
“Do you?” It asked again. The answer got caught in my throat, I found myself unable to speak.
“No, not really.” I managed though my voice felt hoarse.
“You seem to know what you want.” The voice said again, it sounded curious. I stayed silent, the road twisted and wound around the mountain in a chaotic and frantic fashion.
“Are you scared?” She asked again, the voice coming from next to me. I turned to look but a cold hand kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, enough people have died here.” She said, as my nerves calmed slightly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes focused and the world around me much less than an echo.
“Why do you want to know?” She asked, sounding more like she was in a void, her voice had more of an echo than anything else.
“I want to know what happened here. The true story.” I said after taking a breath and gathering my nerves, the road seemed to calm down, from sharp uphill turns to moonlight sweeping curves that allowed my gaze to rest as the shadow of the trees passed us by.
“Can I trust you?” She asked, the question rang through my head as I remember what Farmhand said, how she trusted a stranger who took advantage of her.
“Yes. Yes you can.” I said after a while. The figure turned to me; I could feel her eyes scrutinize every inch of me.
“You’re not like him?” Her questions kept hammering into me, I felt a mix of fear and guilt, knowing who she was referring to.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” I said after a while, gathering a fragile sense of courage as my hands shook furiously. The road seemed to twist and turn, harsh rising hills. Sharp corners told the tale of her many victims as my headlights passed by, the scrapes and dents of hard hits leading to a drop that seemed to have no end, not a single tree could be seen and the moonlight from high above could not pierce the dark veil that lingered joust over the edge of the road. After a while, she spoke again.
“Alright, I trust you.” She said as I allowed my eyes to wander, the figure relaxed in the passenger seat for a while, my recorder on the center console as I saw her blue skin, almost emitting a frozen chill as I saw her dress, torn and tattered, my stomach felt uneasy when I saw bruising and swelling near her inner thighs. Her hands crossed in her lap as I saw the scratches and what looked like deep cuts on her arms and exposed shoulders from the straps on her dress. I could not see much of her face as it seemed her face was bleeding.
“What happened that night?” I asked, concentrating on the road again. My passenger stayed quiet for a while, quietly shuddering and sniffing before she spoke again.
“I was happy, a man I loved decided I would be his date for the matric dance. We’d known each other since we were children. My best friend. We were driving along this road to get to the lodge, where the dance was being held.” Her voice sounded sourly-joyful, her hands didn’t move from her lap much, so as to not distract me with her hand movements.
“It was a while before town, the car started shaking. I thought the tire had blown, but smoke came from the front. We stopped nearby.” She pointed and I could see the flashing of hazard lights and the smell of smoke invaded my nostrils.
“I thought I’d get some help, he said he’d be fine and that I should hurry back. I walked for a while; it was a cold night still. I walked for, I don’t know how long. But I managed to get an old man to stop. He said he’d help; we just need to get my man and he’d sort out the car.” She said as the road began to crack and fall apart at the edge.
“Do you know what he did?” She asked me, I assumed it was a test to see if I was listening.
“He deceived you.” I answered. She nodded, looking down for a short while before continuing.
“He asked why I was alone on this road. I told him I wasn’t, that I was on my way to town with my man, and I told him about who he was, what he meant to me. I was overjoyed when I saw him, my joy turned to confusion, to horror as he sped up and ran him over. I saw his body roll into the trees, I thought for sure he was dead.” She pointed to the part of the road that had a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, marking where her man was hit and last seen by her.
“After I witnessed my childhood innocence be ripped from me, he finally stopped, that butcher! I blacked out with a sharp pain, when next I woke, I couldn't feel my legs and my fingers were numb. Just before I said anything, he pushed me out of his car. I remember falling, the road was like ice, all I could do was crawl.” She said, her anger translating to the road shifting and breaking apart, turning violently uphill only for the sheer drops and sharp turns that threatened to throw me off the edge. I barely managed to keep the car on the road as the road shifted again, it was so silent that I could hear the tires screeching like a distant wail.
“I’ve searched for years, if he’d ever return, I’d make sure he never left like he left me.” She said as the note my grandfather left in his books, the man who was panicked and sketchy, had his autopsy reveal that he was of the elderly group. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I realized that the man who did this to her was probably dead for a while. I weathered her storm of rage as the stretch of road became calm, as did she.
“I’m sorry you suffered like that; I wish there was something I could do.” I said unconsciously. I felt her gaze soften to me; her rage calmed as she went back to her neutral position.
“He was called ‘Farmhand. Because he was trustworthy, kind and reliable..” My eyes widened as the realization crashed on my face: He lived.
“If you aren’t like how he was, then you don’t deserve to leave this road.” Her voice was harsh, the road began to fall apart, the cracks forming as parts fell away like they had been falling apart for years, though my body was fatigued, I kept the car on the road. As uncomfortable as the ride was, the road soon turned into dirt paths, completely unlit and unpredictable. It felt like hours before it returned to normal, albeit slowly, my hands still shook relentlessly. I understood her outrage. I couldn’t imagine the trauma she experienced, the sadness.
“If you would like, I can take you back to town.” I asked. In retrospect, that was a stupid question.
“I don’t know.” She replied, unsure and confused.
“No rush, we have time.” I said as I turned around and began my long drive back to town. The road swerved and waved calmly, completely different to the approach. I drove to the point where The Lady in White was last seen, after a while I parked my car near the spot and looked to my side. The woman wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and my recorder. The sun had begun to rise over the hills, the air was crisp and fresh, I stayed for a while to just take in the sight of a calm morning before turning my recorder off and driving back.
I returned to my hotel room and after placing everything on the desk, I fell onto my bed and fell asleep, my body was exhausted and my mind was fatigued beyond words. I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up in the afternoon. Having something to eat I went over the events from last night, pen and paper at the ready, I prepared to hear myself talking to nothing and no one. The doubt set in before I even hit the play button, after a while of convincing myself that I have some concrete evidence, I pressed play. To my surprise, it sounded like there were two people in the car, me and a woman, although the woman’s voice was covered by static. I wrote down all I could, that is what you’re reading.
The next couple of days went by and nothing special happened, I kept to myself most of the time. While analyzing everything I captured. It all seemed like a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. The last note I made during this investigation was: if something like that exists here, surely more stories remain in this part of the world. As the trees faded into the distance as the bus trundled along the trail back, the forest retreating as I returned back to the concrete and steel, it wasn’t long before the questions I had before, followed me home.

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https://discord.gg/t6VgEAXfgG https://forums.galaxy-of-heroes.starwars.ea.com/discussion/270353/

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So over the time i grew up (17 now). I was really hurting by what they were saying like all narcissistic parents do. But i started realizing they're so unhappy with their own life they always wanna find some bullcrap to argue about or hurt me and my brother just because theyre unhappy. I mean i dont blame them bc we live (4 people and 3 animals) in 2 room apartment with a very small kitchen and bathroom. But at the end of the day its not our fault. So over time i just stopping caring about what my parents think and started showing clear sings that i really dont care how miserable their life is or what they have to say. I usually just laugh because how stupid their reasons are for being mad at me. Or i do get mad but show clear sings that i dont care. For example when me and my mom argue she tells me to shut up bc she doesn't wanna talk to me so i do. But then she goes off naming all the things i did and how stupid i am. I point out the obvious that she told me to shut up so she should stay quiet or we could sit down and talk like normal human beings. She gets even more mad because she knows im right and shes wrong then finds some stupid exuse and stops talking. I could go on and on but does anyone else started finding their parents funny instead of hurtful?

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I’m +30h into the game, just beat the wing guy at the start of act 2. I don’t want this to be a hate thread or anything like that since I don’t hate bg3. The game has great production value, dialogues are very well written, characters are full of personalty, I like the combat, character creation and class choices are fun. Everyone knows these things are good. Every other Youtube video essayist has already talked about it. I’m making this post because I couldn’t find any good constrictive criticism. I’d want to go a bit deeper than just accepting the fact it’s not for me and moving on. Mostly since Baldur’s Gate 3 seems like a game that I should enjoy. I like story games and I like long rpgs that I can obsess over. This post is not going to be any “definitive deconstruction”though. I haven’t finished the game and I’m not sure if I will. I’ve watched and read some opinions about later parts and I haven’t found anything that would change my stance.
The biggest issue isn’t that Baldur’s Gate 3 has some one cardinal error or major problem. Although there are some things I have an issue with, I’ll get to it. To put it all in one sentence: My biggest problem is that at no point the game has managed to hook me or make me want to see the whole thing to the end. Their is the good, the bad, nothing ugly but nothing outstanding either. I really don’t feel like spending +100h on a game that I think is just okay. I searched to see what it was that made people truly fall in love with bg3 and some opinions I just don’t vibe with. Some say they’ve got into it when they heard the main menu theme, when they’ve made their custom character or when they first landed on the beach and were hooked by the call of adventure. I don’t share those feelings but they are feelings. The fact that I don’t share them doesn’t mean that they aren’t valid.
At the same time I’ve read some points that made me wonder whether or not we are playing the same game. One thing that everyone always brings up is that “the game is great at giving you freedom to approach and solve problems the way you want”. An example of it is supposed to be how you can put a bunch of explosive barrels near one of the goblin leaders to one shot them. You’ve used your knowledge about the game to cheese an encounter.That’s what I mean when I say that the game is good but not fantastic. I don’t deny that such little things have value but they aren’t a selling point by themselves. Learning about that didn’t make me jump from my chair and make me stand their with my mouth open for an hour. Yeah, It’s cool that you can do it but does it really matter if the end result is always the same?
Speaking of results, the whole “actions have consequences” feels greatly overblown. Maybe I feel like it because I didn’t get to act 3, but from what I googled many people had issues with act 3 and community also seems to be in agreement that the story gets worse over time. The fact that the devs are focused on expanding the late game experience also supports that view. Yet even if turning a dead man into an undead and heaving his wife deal with him is going to return later on, it still doesn’t feel all that revolutionary, does it? “Actions have consequences” seems like a very standard rpg trope. I don’t see how bg3 is any special in that regard. Nothing that I’ve seen so far made me believe that it is and things I read on the internet only strengthens my view.
Another point is that “the world reacts to your actions”. I’ve seen a bunch of those YT shorts titled “what happens if you do X before/when/if you do Y in Baldur’s Gate 3”. My experience was an opposite of that and It’s not like I was going out of my way to break the game. You know how in act 1 you get a quest from Wyll to kill Karlach and later on you learn that she’s fine and can join your team? I didn’t know she’s a potential party member so I went with Wyll, the quest giver, to kill the alleged monster but when I made her join, both of them just stood their looking at each other and didn’t say anything before I took a long rest. That’s just act 1 mind you. Another example, something that made me close the game and write this whole thing. The moment where the wing guy comes in in act 2 saying he wants to bring the cleric lady to his boss alive. Not kill, keep her alive. My immediate though was: what if I would beat him and kept him alive instead? The game has non-lethal combat toggle after all. Maybe we could imprison and interrogate him? Nope, nothing like this happened. You have to either kill him or help him. This entire “play the game your way”, ”be creative with every encounter” or ”the world will react to your action” goes completely out of the window.
But maybe if I would complete the game than my opinion would change. Maybe if I’d keep on playing a bit longer I’d find something that would pick my interest. Surely a critically acclaimed, award winning goty has to blow my mind eventually. I’ve being telling myself this after every enemy encounter and after every major dialogue. “It’ll pick up the pace any second now”, but it never does. If the game couldn’t hook me after 30h, I strongly doubt that seen the ending is going to change anything. The most important thing any story, especially longer ones, must do as early as possible is to develop “trust”. If you want to have your plot to be a slow burn with lots of early set ups and big pay offs, you need to make your audience trust you. You can make your story as slow as you see fit, but you need to make them believe that all of it goes somewhere. There wasn’t a single point in bg3 that would make me believe that this whole deal with worms, cultists, magic artefacts and my teammates’ personal drama is going to evolve into anything truly interesting.
It will go “somewhere”, like I’ve seen with Gale. First you learn that he’s a wizard, then you learn he needs to consume magical artefacts, then you learn that he has a magic bomb inside him and then you learn he can blow himself up to beat the bad guys. None of these plot points I find to be particularly interesting. They are a competent plot points but they don’t form any compelling story. It reminds me of that one time Matt Stone and Trey Parker talked about story structure. Never connect your story bits with “and then”, use things like“but”or“therefore”. What we end up with are a bunch of names and events that I can’t relate to, learn anything useful from or form any emotional connection with. It’s lore over story. The way the main story develops is that you learn that “a guy did a thing so we have to go there and do that”. There doesn’t seem to be any form of nuance to any of this. Every major choice boils down to whether you want to be good or evil. Do you want to save refugees from evil goblins or murder them for some reason. Do you want to let a sadist throw gnomes into lava or do you want to throw him into lava.
Another issue is that the set ups themselves are not all that interesting. Most of them are just classic mystery boxes. What’s the deal Shadowheart’s artefact? What’s Nightsong? Why did Wyll make a pact with a demon? Why have we not turn into an alien? Who is the night visitor? Who or what is the Absolute? A good mystery gives you a question and basic information allowing you to make theories about what the answer could be. A simpler, non-mystery set up establishes all the information at the start and just develops it. A mystery box is when the audience is presented with a problem and when they start asking, the answers are “a good question, for a later time”. You know why Karlach is the best teammate? Because she just tells you what’s going on. Shadowheart claims to have no memory, so she doesn’t say anything. Gale is to afraid open up about his issue, so he doesn’t say anything. Lae'zel sees you as inferior, so she doesn’t say anything. Wyll has made a pact, so he can’t say anything. Astarion is evil, so he doesn’t say anything. Karlach openly talks about her heart and history from the start. Everything else is just mystery box. The answer is simple but we can’t learn it for some arbitrary reasons.
Most of those problems probably comes down to the game just not being for me and that’s fine. I don’t want to convince people who enjoy bg3 to start hating the game. I’m honestly curies of how the fans feel about all of this. I don’t mind the spoilers. I’m trying to be contractive and my hopes are that some more knowledgable people will share their own opinion.

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Start Time:2024.06.03 14:00 (UTC)
End Time
2024.06.04 14:00 (UTC)
Soft Cap:50BNB
Hard Cap:100BNB
Presale Address:0x1606a50F64dA77f7c0ae8dd9ceB4de87B501168D
Token Address:0x95A13AF8A018a3Cd0D7930616D55ae84B3825EeA
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Mushoku Tensei: Isekai Ittara Honki Dasu Season 2 Part 2, episode 8
Alternative names: Jobless Reincarnation, Mushoku Tensei
Reminder: Please do not discuss plot points not yet seen or skipped in the show. Failing to follow the rules may result in a ban.
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• /mushokutensei

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Waldo could feel the tension in his body. He hated breaches. He used to be a general in the armada. Waldo had not figured out exactly what happened but in a few weeks leadership had changed all across the galaxy. Waldo had sensed something was different and Waldo had changed his identity adding himself to a low level unit while he tried to figure out what had caused the change. However, his contracts slowly disappeared and he was having a hard time cultivating new ones. Waldo had heard the name Bastion a lot in the changeover and Jonah seemed to have fallen off his radar, which Waldo found very distressing. So now he was just a lower level grunt Waldo had to follow orders and keep his identity hidden. That meant he saw lots of action thus why he was on a breaching team. All the prep in the world never made him feel safe on a breach and they had no prep time for this one. Toby slammed the charge on the handle of the Iron door and deftly ran the blasting cord around the frame, in a single smooth motion. Waldo felt Juan tense in front of him as they prepped for entry after the blast. Waldo would be second in on this one having lost the coin toss. Not that he really minded due to the lack of information. Juan would be going right, Waldo had the left, and Brett would be going down the middle. Juan, Waldo, or Brett always led the breaching team; they were their units cowboys. At least, that is what they called themselves. Their lieutenant Frank called them his lovely ladies but everyone was a girl to Frank. Waldo didn’t care about it, Brett would get angry with Frank out of combat, and Juan only ever laughed over it. Waldo was pretty sure Brett was putting up a show as he had caught Brett offering to be a bottom to a guy at a bar three months ago, which had led to him swearing secrecy over it. Waldo found himself smiling as Frank started into it.
“Lovely ladies, Juanita, Betty, and Wilma. Tina is spreading her legs in three.” Frank said loud enough for the breaching team to hear as he raised his hand holding up three fingers starting a countdown to Waldo’s 4th breach of the day. As the door blasted in they moved smoothly forward like a well rehearsed dance. Juan moved through the door into a hallway with Waldo close on his tail. Waldo saw it a second too late as Juan had completely missed the tripwire. Waldo grabbed Juan a hair too slow as Juan’s foot hit the wire tripping whatever the trap was. Waldo felt the magic in the blast before he heard the tremendous roar. Waldo felt himself pushed back by Juan while trying to pull him. Waldo felt certain he had Juan’s pack firmly gripped as he fell back. Suddenly, there was nothing in his hands. The air felt cool and instead of the hot sun beating down he felt a warm glow off to his left.
Waldo rolled to his feet and spun, assessing the room, but everything was wrong. He had lifted his rifle up to sight as he spun but it was missing so instead in the middle of the spin he drew his side arm. However, as he finished his spin his arm fell loosely to his side. Waldo stood in the middle of three empty round tables. In what, he would call the common room of a themed bar or restaurant. He saw humanoid creatures standing near a long wooden bar with 4 patrons seated at it and another dozen or so scattered around the room with more on the two levels above him. Off to the side of a warm glow that Waldo realized there was a fireplace with a fire happily burning in it and there was a stage. Waldo would have loved to hear the music from the group on stage with their odd assortment of instruments but it was at this moment Waldo realized the blast had deafened him. Waldo felt certain no one would attack him, having noticed an odd assortment of humanoids. Waldo saw gnolls, tabaxi, and maybe lizardperson. Waldo holstered his side arm but in looking down he noticed a growing pool of blood at his feet and saw a piece of rebar sticking out of his arm. Waldo saw the enchantments engraved in the rebar and part of him said magic wasn’t real then something else said that humans were the only intelligent race. Waldo pushed those back knowing better. He had seen lots of races and humans were just one of them. Waldo felt more than one voice trying to take control and he pushed back, calming his mind. Waldo attempted to quiet his mind as he was flooded with memories and thoughts he did not recognize as he pushed against them he felt someone or something help him in quieting his mind.
Waldo had not noticed the pain of his injury because of how much adrenaline was pumping through him. Waldo examined the rebar seeing the blood running down his arm. Waldo estimated he had ten minutes before blood loss would start to impact him if it did not clot on its own. Waldo glanced around the room seeing a few gnolls who had noticed him but no one seemed to care and decided he could care for the wound. Waldo grabbed the quick releases on his backpacks shoulder straps letting his bag fall onto a table he positioned behind him. Waldo quickly turned to face the bag and flipped it over so he could easily access it. Waldo grabbed a strap on the pack and deftly released it. Wrapping the loose strap above where the rebar was sticking out of his arm. Waldo smoothly grabbed his folding knife, flicking it open and cutting the sleeve away. Waldo placed the sleeve on the table and checked to see if it was all there or a piece was missing. Waldo grimace realizing a piece of sleeve is probably in his muscle. Waldo flicked the knife closed and placed it next to the sleeve. Waldo pulled out a bottle of water, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, a healing tonic, and a sealed bandage for once it was clean. Waldo was so focused on what he was doing at the table he had not noticed the small group that had gathered behind him.
“I don’t think he can hear us.” Strisk, a large drake, said, preparing to tap the strange human’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Really, Strisk. You don’t think the guy bleeding on the floor that I shouted at can hear us?” Lydia, the only human in the commons, asked angrily, placing her hands on her hips.
“I think he is going to pull that piece of metal out of his arm.” Kna, the gnollish innkeeper and owner of the establishment, said surprised. Watching Waldo’s back tense as he stretched his arm out to the table. Grabbing the rebar in his other hand.
“Sir! Don’t!” Lydia screamed as Waldo ripped the 4 inch piece of rebar stuck halfway in his arm out.
“Fuck!” Waldo yelled as the piece of metal came free. Waldo looked it over for cloth finding a small piece that he carefully removed from the end of the rebar and placed in the hole of the sleeve and frowning seeing there was still more. Waldo screamed as the onlookers watched him shove his fingers into the hole in skin.
“Strisk, help me stop him.” Lydia said. Grabbing Waldo’s arm. Strisk hesitated. A moment before grabbing Waldo’s other arm.
"Stop! There is more fabric in my arm!” Waldo screamed as the two strangers forced his arms apart. Waldo looked at the sleeve. Unsure if they could even understand him. The strangers released Waldo as he attacked the problem again.
“Aer, go get me water. I will clean this up once he is done” Lydia said, to a gnoll barmaid nearby, deciding to stay next to this stranger.
“I’ll get the mop and some rags to help.” Kna said not wanting to watch anymore and stepping away.
Waldo pulled out a piece of fabric and placed it in the sleeve. Smiling now that he could account for all of the sleeve. Waldo grabbed the water bottle using his teeth to remove the lid and poured it down his arm. Followed by the rubbing alcohol to which he could not help but scream again as it burned.
“That looks bad.” Strisk said, fingering a potion at his hip. Seeing Waldo was prepared to heal the slow way. Strisk was trying to decide whether or not to help the stranger out by giving him the healing potion he carried as a city guard.
Waldo was looking at the hole in his arm knowing it would take time to heal even with the help of the tonic. He estimated it would be a day or two. Waldo looked back at the lizard person standing behind him in armor. Waldo grimaced as he drank the healing tonic. Waldo looked at the only human girl in the commons. Waldo instantly recognized her but could see she did not recognize him. Waldo hated this feeling but took his time looking over her sandy blonde hair and the gentle curves of her face. Waldo let his eyes wander across her chest and down her legs to the floor even though there was not much to see since she wore a high neck dress that was rather plain. Waldo expected she worked here and was not one to take crap from the patrons. However, Waldo knew her face and her shape as just as he remembered her, he did not need her clothes off to tell this. Waldo turned back to the table and opened the bandage and applied it to his arm. “He took his time looking you over.” Strisk said, eying Lydia himself.
“At least, he seems to know not to touch.” Lydia said, without looking at Strisk. She had been rebuffing advances from him and other drakes like him since she took the job. She hated the drakes, which was not unreasonable as they had burned her home to the ground, killed her parents, her betrothed, and enslaved her for five years. Lydia had fled to the nearest city not under drake control once she was freed. Lydia knew that not all drakes are slavers but getting over somethings are easier than others.
“Do you think he can hear us?” Strisk asked, ignoring the jab not wanting to be thrown out by Kna again. Strisk still was fingering the healing potion not having decided on whether or not to offer it. The human seemed to be taking things to remedy his condition. Strisk stood over the two humans by about a foot when he extended to his full height at the moment he was hunched down a bit so he did not tower over them. Strisk thought he looked good this evening having cared for his bronze scales before coming to Kna’s inn. Waldo rolled up the sleeve and piece of rebar and placed it in his pack then pulled out a healing tonic with a dropper on it and a tin a bit larger than his hand slipping the tin into a pocket. Waldo used the dropper to put a few drops of his second healing tonic down each of his ears. Waldo knew it would take a minute for the tonic to kick in and heal enough damage to restore hearing. Waldo returned the spare tonic to the pack and turned around letting his eyes meet Lydia’s. Waldo thought he saw her eyeing him and she had a small smile on her face as their eyes met. Her face made various emotions flare inside him and it had to focus to stay in control feeling a bit like someone else was trying to take control. Waldo felt his hearing return as the sounds of the room washed over him.
“Hello.” Waldo said, smiling at the woman ignoring the large lizardperson or dragonkin. Waldo could not really tell but he knew getting it wrong would probably offend them.
“Hey, I am guardsmen Strisk.” Strisk said. Waldo glanced at the drake and then looked back at the woman. She crossed her arms and her smile turned to a frown. Waldo could not help but think crossing her arms only accentuated a certain feminine feature of her form.
“Any chance I could get your name?” Waldo asked, meeting the woman’s eyes.
“Lydia. Why are you bleeding on our floor and where did you come from?” Lydia asked, feeling her pulse raise with the way he was looking at her. Lydia had not been in the presence of a human male for ten years. Lydia had not been avoiding them there just weren’t many humans in the city she had fled to and she would not risk going back to drake territory as much as part of her wanted certain things, saving up to get off his continent had been her focus. Human also from what she had seen human men did not survive long under the abuse the drakes applied to there slaves in the nearby Xalas empire. “I am Waldo Winter.” Waldo introduced himself looking at Lydia. “As for why I am bleeding, I think it was an explosion of some kind. The shockwave knocked out my hearing. I am from Halcyon. I was in an outlying district at the time of the explosion and the wood in this room tells me I am not there anymore.” Waldo stated calmly.
“So you entered Protham via an unauthorized teleport?” Strisk asked, trying to sound official.
“One I did not initialize or agree to but yes. Are you going to arrest me?” Waldo asked.
“I will have to report it. I will let someone else decide if you should be arrested. Assuming you don’t cause additional trouble.” Strisk said.
“It is an honour to make your acquaintance Strisk. Thank you for not arresting me.” Waldo said, giving Strisk a smile before turning back to Lydia.
“Why were you caught in an explosion?” Strisk asked the strange human, smiling back at him since he was being respectful.
“Well that is a little difficult. I was entering a suspected criminal's residence just before finding myself standing in this lovely room.” Waldo said deciding to omit details since it would be simpler than explaining. “There was an explosion of some kind and then I was here. I have to assume the hunk of metal hit me before I appeared here somehow.”
“Sounds like a teleport spell gone wrong.” Lydia said, allowing herself a moment to look over Waldo since he was not causing trouble. She could see the muscles in his arm and thought she recognized his jawline but knew that could not be the case since she had no idea where Halcyon was.
“I wouldn’t know much about that. I can only hope my brothers are alright. Can one of you tell me where I am?” Waldo asked, masking his face, wondering if he had died. The blast had been strong enough to rupture his ears. Waldo was not sure he could have actually survived, even with Juan in front of him. Waldo expected he had died and this was some sort of reincarnation. Waldo knew he could not return home if the was an arrival on this planet as a child of Halcyon he had heard of this experience but this was his first time. As he thought about this he realized he did not want to go back even if he could. He had been in hiding and now he was probably well outside of the problems he had and doubted anyone hunting him would keep it up after death if he had died. If not then he was incredibly lucky he had landed in a place where he did not die instantly. Looking at Lydia something told him that someone powerful had intervened but Waldo could not imagine who. Jonah had abandoned him and Waldo could not think of another player with enough power to do anything who would also care about him.
“Spriggan Inn, in Protham.” Lydia said, looking carefully at Waldo. Aer walked over carrying a rag and pushing a bucket of steaming water. Kna walked over with a mop and an empty bucket to wring the mop out.
“Oh, thank you.” Waldo said, taking the mop from Kna and starting to clean up.
“Protham is nowhere special, Lydia. We are a weeks travel from Neakar City. Neakar is the district capital here and a port city.” Strisk said, looking at Lydia.
“You don’t have to do that.” Kna said, as Waldo deftly cleaned up the blood on the floor. “Just let him. He is probably in shock.” Strisk said, as they watched Waldo clean the floor easily.
“Just a bit.” Waldo said after a moment, having finished mopping and given the mop back to Kna. Waldo used one of the rages Aer had to clean the table his pack had been on ending by wiping the drying blood from his ears. Waldo looked down and realized he was a mess.
“How far did you travel?” Aer asked, frowning having heard the conversation.
“Far enough, those names mean nothing to me.” Waldo replied.
“So you are gonna need work.” Strisk half asked and half told Waldo.
“Seems like that would be wise.” Waldo said, placing the rag over the edge of the bucket holding the dirty water from Waldo’s cleaning efforts.
“Protham needs good city guards.” Strisk said, smiling. “I can get you an interview tomorrow. I will come by tomorrow morning and get you. If you are interested?”
“I’ll need some training on your laws, but sounds interesting to me.” Waldo said, sticking out his hand to Strisk. Strisk looked at it a moment then realized he was supposed to grab it and did with his clawed hand.
“Thanks, for your help Strisk.” Waldo said, firmly shaking Strisk’s hand.
“Sounds like you want a room for the night. Unless, Strisk is offering to pay. Do you have any money?” Kna asked, frowning at Strisk.
“You can put one night on my tab, Kna.” Strisk said.
“Only if you pay your tab off tonight.” Kna said, feeling a bit bad but knowing Strisk’s tab was getting out of hand.
“Do you accept silver?” Waldo asked, before Strisk could reply to Kna.
“Yes, take a seat and I will get my scales.” Kna said, having heard enough to know she was going to need to calculate an exchange.
“I am glad you happened to have some coin on you.” Strisk said, frowning at Kna’s back.
“Yeah, my dad was big into carrying certain things every day. Good thing, I listened to him cause I bet my country's paper money is worthless here.” Waldo said, pulling the tin out of his pocket and carefully opening to make sure it was the right one then closing it again.
“Well, your bag is probably worth quite a bit. I have never seen anything like it. Fine craftsmanship.” Aer said, examining his pack.
“I would rather not part with it if possible.” Waldo said sitting down at the table his bag had been on since he moved it to the floor beside the table in cleaning the table. Strisk sat down across from him as did Aer with Lydia sitting close and she was still looking at him.
“Lydia, you are being weird.” Aer said, quietly.
“Looks like Lydia wants to bed the man.” Strisk said, frowning at Lydia.
“Watch it, Strisk.” Lydia said to Strisk with an edge in her voice. “Waldo just reminds me of someone.” Lydia followed up with a softer tone.
“Good memories I hope. I think I’d like to get to know you.” Waldo responded, not looking away from Lydia. “You remind me of… Someone.”
“Well, be nice and maybe we can share some memories.” Lydia replied, not breaking his gaze. Waldo felt there were some additional implications in her words.
“Is there a price?” Waldo asked, before he could stop himself. Waldo was not entirely sure where the words had come from in saying them they just burst from his lips like someone else was running the show. The words had sent Lydia’s hand flying. Waldo easily caught it mid air. “I will take that as a no, which is nice. A woman with a price isn’t a woman worth having.” Waldo said, speaking again without being sure where the word came from. Waldo wondered if he was going mad but something told him he was not. Waldo edged closer to Lydia as he thought this and realized he seemed to be of multiple minds in this moment. Words and actions happening that he was not sure were all him. Aer and Strisk were watching in surprise. “Maybe I misinterpreted your words.”
“If you can pay for your room. I am willing to let the words go. Now if you would let me go.” Lydia responded, carefully feeling the strength in his arm and seeing the ease with which he caught her slap. She had used a skill to hit him, one that had landed on Strisks and other guardsmen when they got out of hand. She felt he could be dangerous and even though he had caught the slap and was easily holding her arm in place he was not hurting her. In fact once she relaxed, from making the slap, she realized how relaxed he was in stopping her slap. She saw him considering letting her go. She met his eyes letting her anger show at being held in place. Lydia realized how close he had come moving a little to block her slap and left him close enough she felt his breath on her face. Lydia realized she was breathing on him too and something in his eyes seemed to be enjoying the closeness they were sharing.
“I want a taste.” Waldo said, kissing her before she could react and sliding his hand along her back. Lydia wanted to struggle but part of her had been aching for this for years and she did not put up a fight. After a moment she found she was kissing him back for a moment and just as she was about to pull away. He did first. Waldo had been wanting to kiss her since he had laid eyes on her and at least this time he was sure that was him. “Well, that was… special.” Waldo felt a memory tug at him in the back of his mind. One of a girl that looked just like this woman.
“Maybe, for you.” Lydia said, trying to hide how much she enjoyed it. Waldo released her hand and turned looking for Kna. Waldo watched Kna approach with the scales. Waldo quickly opened the tin, pulling out a bundle of five carefully wrapped gold coins before closing it again and placing the tin back in a pocket.
Waldo unwrapped the coins asking “What exchange rate can you offer on these?” Aer gave a quiet gasp at the sight of them. Waldo feared he had made a mistake. As kna set the scales on the table.
“You have gold?” Strisk asked. Kna seemed unphased as Kna placed the coins on one side of the scale and started to carefully weigh them.
“Just a little. For an emergency.” Waldo responded.
“That should be enough to live here for a month.” Strisk stated, watching Kna carefully.
“You underestimate my rates. This will buy you three weeks.” Kna stated, as the scales balanced.
“What? That is highway robbery!” Strisk said.
“I have to take them to a blacksmith to get them minted in local coinage, they will need to be paid. Or I will have to take them to a money changer, who will also take a cut.” Kna stated.
“What would that include?” Waldo said, realizing his hand had wandered from his leg and found Lydia hand grabbing it tightly. Waldo felt Lydia tense as Waldo grabbed her hand but noticed she did not pull away from the sudden contact.
“A room, hot bath every day, standard laundry service, the common breakfast, and dinner daily with one pint of house ale. You will have to pay for lunch if you come here to eat.” Kna said, listing from memory the services she included in her standard room offering.
“Sounds good to me.” Waldo said smiling and looking out the window confirming it was dark. “I assume we are in the middle of dinner?” Waldo asked, hopefully.
“Yes.” Kna answered.
“May I take dinner in my room? I would like to wash myself before bed. It has been a surprising day.” Waldo asked Kna.
“Yes! I will grab you a plate and show you to your room.” Lydia said, releasing Waldo hand and standing. Waldo let her hand go as she stood. Kna at Lydia with what Waldo expected was motherly concern. As Lydia turned away to get the room key and a plate of food.
“Is there running water in the room?” Waldo asked Kna.
“Yes, but I cannot recommend using it for anything other than bathing.” Kna said.
“It is fine I can purify water. Can I get this filled with water?” Waldo asked, holding out a metal canteen.
“Yes. Aer go fill this and bring it back.” Kna said, handing the canteen to Aer who quickly walked off. “Leave Strisk. I would have a word alone with this man.” Kna growled at Strisk looking angrily. Strisk knew better than to argue with Kna when she gave him this look.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Waldo.” Strisk said standing to his whole sevenish feet of height stretching as he walked away. Waldo only now realized how small he was compared to Strisk.
“Indeed.” Waldo said to Strisk and turned back to Kna.
“I have never seen Lydia take to a man as she has to you. Have you cast a spell on her?” Kna asked Waldo. Waldo burst out laughing, taking a moment to control himself.
“I have no skill in that kind of magic. If you know how to test one for magic I would happily submit. I suspect I know why she has taken to me but there is nothing magical about it.” Waldo said, having gained control of the strange urge to laugh at magic.
“Why?” Kna asked, eyeing him coldly.
“Now why should I answer you?” Waldo asked. “What do you care for, of freed slaves? Or are you not her enslaver?” Kna drew back surprised.
“You said you knew nothing of this place?” Kna replied.
“I have never heard of this city in my life or this land, but I have eyes. Lydia is the only human here beside me. You are a gnoll and Strisk is one of the scaled people’s. I never been around any of them long enough to learn to tell them apart. Lydia clearly has some aversion to Strisk which seems to be unconscious on some level. That suggests it is not that she does not simply dislike him but something more than that. It is obvious to me that she does not belong here and would choose another home, but something prevents that. When I kissed her I ran my hand down her back. I felt the cursed marks of a whip. Is she a free woman or do you own her?” Waldo said, sliding his hand to the knife attached to his lower back.
“My people do not enslave others. She is free. I did not know she hated it here.” Kna said going from angry to crestfallen. “I did not know she had been a drake's slave.”
“You will say nothing of this. If you value your friendship with her. I did not say she hated it here. She works for you, which I expect is because you are not a drake and probably more than that. I get the sense she misses her people. How long has she been here?” Waldo replied, smoothing his voice.
“Several years.” Kna said, drifting in her own thoughts.
“If she hated you she would have left. You must make her feel safe in a dark place so she does not wander from your light.” Waldo said.
“All the more reason to not let her be abused.” Kna said, gauging Waldo.
“You misunderstand something. I will always respect Ma laska.” Waldo said, changing languages without thinking and looking to where Lydia stood talking to Aer as a memory flooded over him for a moment. Waldo felt the other part of him pushing forward for a moment. “Good help you have. Deftly slowing Lydia while we talk.”
“What is ma laska?” Kna asked. Waldo hesitated, surprised by Kna's words, then realized he had called Lydia by accident. Waldo knew what it meant somehow but decided he better not translate it directly.
“A woman’s right.” Waldo said, choosing a lie over the truth. “Or at least that is a close enough translation in this context.”
“So that is another language?” Kna asked.
“Yes, one from my a place long ago.” Waldo answered. “Have we not strayed topics at this point?”
“I think I have made myself clear and you have made yourself clear now.” Kna said, glancing at Aer and making a low growl. “I will let Lydia make herself clear as she chooses. Now that I do not think you will take something Lydia does not freely offer.”
“Have you accepted her as your cub?” Waldo asked, turning to look at Kna.
“I ha... “ Kna stopped herself, looking surprised at Waldo.
“I see it in your eyes, witness it in your fur, and hear it in your voice. She is a daughter in your house. Does she know or do you keep it a secret from all but those who know how to see?” Waldo asked, calmly moving past Kna’s surprise.
“You said.” Kna started to accuse trying to remember his words.
“I have not seen another race in so long. I cannot tell the scaled races apart. However, I ran with a pack for six years. I was a brother to a gnoll, and son to his parents. I sat at their table and went on their hunts. I sang the rights and washed in their bath. I was once an adopted son, which fills me with pride. If you are not a slaver then I would call you friend.” Waldo said quickly as Lydia approached. Just as he finished speaking he gave a quiet howl in the gnoll tongue he had learned many years ago living on the plains of Halcyon long before the war that had landed him here. Aer stopped mid-step and stared at Waldo as the gnolls in the room turned looking at the grimy human who had named himself to the room in gnollish. Kna openly stared surprised Waldo had been named and knew the proper introduction for himself in a public place. Lydia was confused as to her it appeared Waldo was growling threateningly at Kna. Suddenly, the room responded with a quite gnollish welcome that made Lydia jump. Aer gently placed her hand on Lydia’s shoulder.
“They are greeting Waldo in our tongue.” Aer explained to Lydia, seeing she did not know what was happening in the room.
“He speaks gnollish?” Lydia said surprised.
“I guess.” Aer said, pulling her hand back and moving forward again.
“Why did you not say something before?” Kna asked, Waldo as Lydia and Aer walked up. Aer set his canteen on the table.
“It was not the time. All things have a place and now was this things place.” Waldo responded.
“You are a strange human, but I am comforted and feel as if there is nothing to fear.” Kna said to Waldo then turned to Lydia. “Lydia, you may do as you will the rest of the night and I will not interfere.”
“Thank you. May we call this the end of my shift then.” Lydia asked, feeling a little excited. Aer turned moving around the room with the other staff in the inn.
“Away with you before I find a need for your aid in tending to my customers. Who I have ignored, too long.” Kna said quickly moving away to help her staff tend to tables. Waldo picked up his pack and canteen.
“Lead on, Ma laska.” Waldo said, nodding to Lydia.
“Ma laska?” Lydia questioned not saying it quite right.
“Sorry, my lady. Old habits.” Waldo said, lying again feeling unsure as to why he felt like he was fighting to stay in control. Lydia raised an eyebrow questioningly but led on. Waldo followed her up the stairs to the second floor and down a hallway lined with six doors. She stopped in front of the door and placed a brass coin over the lock which clicked and the door swung open. Led him into a good sided room with an all wood floor and completely open. A large bed was on one side of the room, a table with two chairs by the door. Space at the foot of the bed. There was space between the bed and a bathtub with a toilet near the back wall with a screen by the toilet and a sink between the tub and toilet. The room was lit by glowing stones fixed to the walls Waldo saw what appeared to be a control for the glowing stones by the door before the table and chairs. There were towels by the sink. Lydia set the plate on the table and the brass coin next to it. Waldo set his bag at the foot of the bed and started to strip away his body armor until he heard the door shut causing him to turn. Waldo smiled seeing Lyida had not left.
“Would you like help?” Lydia asked, slowly walking to him with a gaze that excited Waldo. The kiss he had stolen had aroused something in Lydia and the urges she had been pushing back had rushed forward.
“I can manage. I am just removing some outer layers. They are deceptively heavy.” Waldo responded.
“Please allow me. I want to.” Lydia said, stepping next to him quickly. Waldo allowed her to help him, carefully guiding her hands to the straps holding the armor in place and allowing their fingers to get tangled. “You seem to be intentionally making this difficult.” Lydia accused, after it took almost a full minute to unhook one strap.
“Does it bother you?” Waldo asked, playfully nudging her and Lydia realized he was enjoying the delay.
“Your food will get cold…” Lydia said, blushing as she started to enjoy the fumbling of their hands and his contact.
“Hot or cold it is still food. However, this moment... is all its own.” Waldo said, dragging out her helping him remove his outer layers, which took another five or more minutes. After which, they sat across from each other as he ate his dinner. Lydia studied him as he ate.
“Have we met before?” Lydia asked, feeling at ease in his presence.
“After a manner…I believe so but not for more than a lifetime.” Waldo responded. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
“Reincarnation?” Lydia asked not being familiar with the word.
“My people believe when you die a piece of you, what we would call a soul, starts a new life.” Waldo explained.
“I am not much for religion. In my homeland, they said the gods are dead. The Drakes of Xalas seem to think there are gods and people have souls. Most of the gnolls of Grofeas say there are no gods but there is a temple to the gnoll god in Protham and I believe the high priestess is the wife of the city's guard captain.” Lydia replied.
“Xalas? Grofeas?” Waldo asked, suspecting these are countries.
“Neakar, a large city in the Xalas empire. It even has a palace for the emperor. I don’t think it is the capital of the Xalas empire but I might be wrong. The Grofeas plains are ruled by the gnoll tribes. There are not very many cities on the Grofeas plains and Xalas has tentative peace with the plains gnolls that largely control Grofeas. Protham is the first city in the Grofeas plains after leaving the Xalas empire. Mostly, the Drakes have mined the Grofeas plains of all they are interested in so they leave them alone.” Lydia explained.
“What is your home land called?” Waldo asked.
“Northumbria, but last I heard it fell to the drakes in the war. I was captured before the Northumbrian king fell. The Teaniel Empire is the last human hold out against the drakes and if it falls the drakes will effectively rule the continent of Atios. Not that they bother much with the Grofeas plains.” Lydia explained.
“Ah, so you stay because there is no easy human stronghold to flee to?” Waldo questioned.
“I am trying to save up to go to Ibrix but that is a long boat ride off after traveling to the only gnoll port city because I refuse to go back into the Xalas empire. Only problem is Grofeas port city is three hundred leagues to the south east of here. The roads are less than safe and each year there are only about three caravans that make the trek. If I were to cross alone it is unlikely I would make it. The cost of going from here to Ibrix are a little more than a year's wage working here.” Lydia explained sadly.
“How many humans reside in Protham?” Waldo asked.
“Twelve. All women. Eight are too old for the trek and two are too young to go alone.” Lydia said.
“All former slaves of the drakes I assume.” Waldo said.
“What?” Lydia said surprised.
“I worked interrogations. I learned to read what was left unspoken. You have nothing to fear from me. Slavery is the evilest form of commerce.” Waldo said, kneeling by his chair with his back to Lydia and bearing it. Lydia saw thin white scars from wounds that had healed and been reopened only to heal again over and over again. Lydia was speechless. After a moment Waldo covered himself and sat down facing her.
“How did you know?” Lydia questioned. Waldo slid his chair close to her so they were a breath apart. Lydia stared at him waiting for an answer when he kissed her. This time she felt his hand running down her back touching her hidden marks. Waldo pulled back from the kiss after a moment.
“Slavers tend to have the same tricks. They leave the same marks on one's body and some people's souls.” Waldo said quietly as he sat a breaths distance from Lydia’s face. The moment stretched as shared history passed between them and without a word spoken they had shared secrets too dark to udder in the quiet of the room then there was a roar of cheers from the commons breaking the spell that dark secrets of shared history had woven for a moment.
“I hope we can talk more.” Lydia said, after a moment now that the spell was broken. Lydia stood now that her head had cleared. Lydia was not sure what she would do if she stayed and questioned what she wanted.
“Will you stay?” Waldo asked, gently touching Lydia’s hand. Lydia did not pull away. Standing Lydia moved to the door. She intended to open the door and leave but she grabbed the night lock turning the knob. Waldo was not sure what he expected but he would not stop her from leaving. Waldo heard the door lock click into place, Lydia took a few steps toward the bath and moved her hair to one side exposing the ties along her back. Waldo stood and moved to her beginning to untie her dress. Once he was done. Lydia let the dress fall to the floor. Time stretched and shortened all at once and before he knew it exhaustion took them as they lay on the bed together. Lydia snuggled up to him and in a moment her breathing was even and gentle. Waldo knew she had fallen asleep in that moment of respite. Waldo watched her for a moment only to realize how tired he was and started to doze off but just as he heard a voice speak in his mind.
“Class gained Soldier, Level one. Skill gained, find allegiance.”
“Cancel! Reject!” Waldo whispered, angrily not wanting to wake Lydia.
“Class and level canceled.”
Waldo was fully awake now. Realizing he is on a game world, Waldo frowned. He considered this for a moment. Waldo had heard of these but never been on one. Now the injury made more sense. He had died on Halcyon. Waldo wondered if Jonah even cared that he had died. Waldo took a moment to consider the implications of being on a gaming world. There would be no intergalactic armada base here. Waldo knew the gaming worlds had been cut off, largely due to proximity. All the gaming worlds were the opposite side of the galaxy. The armada was still a thousand years of growth away. Waldo now knew with certainty there was no simple way back. As he considered this he realized there might be a way. Waldo thought about it for a few minutes as the idea grew in his mind and realized he truly did not want to go back. “I am a God.” Waldo thought to himself, Waldo felt something rush to the front of his mind, something that believed it or he was a god.
“Class gained God, level one. Skill gained, anoint worshiper. Quest assigned, claim domain.”
Waldo smiled, surprised it was that simple. Waldo considered trying to cancel it but part of him said if he was going to stay here he might as well be a god. Thinking he could do anything as a god. Another part said it was a bad idea and it would not be easy. Waldo wondered why he was feeling so conflicted about everything and why he did not feel like he was in perfect control. Then he wondered if the gods were dead on this world, would he be the only god around, and if so what domain he should claim. Waldo slowly drifted to sleep with these conflicting thoughts.

Hi all to preface this is discord drama that is the equivalent of being told you're worthless.
I, 24M, have been dealing with this since yesterday. Two users (mods, both 18+, not too sure about their age roughly my age) started to criticize me over things that I said, to the point they started to drive really hurtful things down against me, and as someone with Autism, I can't quite process the things they're saying to me, and I broke down this morning.
It all started yesterday, when I posted saying the owner of this server (who has an internet community, and makes music, would finally surpass 1.5 million streams on a song. User 1, a discord moderator of this group, said it already has. I half joked (which they didn't receive well), saying the following, "I may or may not have reached out to my social media audience (I also make music and run a local radio station's jazz program) for some help getting there."
User 1: "Somehow I highly doubt that made any perceivable difference outside of the standard trend unless you are hiding 100k followers in a magic hat or something." That hurt.
Me: Whatever dude. Even if 1 person clicked on the link, I wanted to help get there since she expressed interest in hitting 1.5 million. Why are you downplaying everything I do? Or negatively criticizing my choice of words?
User 1: 100% choice of words, Here you try to down play its always appreciated to share the music with others, but the way its worded here implys a humble brag that you were the reason it reached that number or at the very least a large part in that.
I understood where he was coming from, but his choice of words didn't help me there. It seemed to me that he was putting his foot down saying me and my audience don't make a difference.
User 2 joins in and says the following:
User 2: My favourite thing is watching people not pick up on your jokes. And just automatically assume you're an asshole.
Me: Didn't appear to be humorous to me. I guess I must add a gif to express emotion.
User 2: Nah he doesn't have to express emotion for you to see his jokes lolol
Me: I suppose I must, otherwise I get criticized by someone I'll never meet.
User 2: I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about User 1.
User 2: Everyone I've ever talked to about him always asks me why he's an asshole when most don't even bother to get to know him not my fault y'all can't put in the effort to understand his humour or how he expresses himself.
Inbetween this eruption and this point, I wrote a message congratulating the owner on surpassing 1.5 million streams. I intended to mean well with my message but it went out like this:
Me: 1.5 million streams on Song Owner!!! So incredible to see how what started as me watching funny TikTok videos became watching a fully fledged musician. Super happy for you, congrats!
User 1: I mean thats kind of dismissive, the music came first and has always been the main goal I understand the underlying compliment you are going for, but it comes off weird how you describe the journey in that way as if Owner was not a fully fledged musician before this?
Me: Your interpretation is it’s dismissive and weird, because I worded it in the way that I found her videos before I found her music.
User 2: You worded it as an absolute rather than an objective experience you had such as "Incredible that I found your tiktok videos and learnt you were an amazing musician" there is plenty of other ways you could have worded it, but the first interpretation that jumps out from the words used is that is was a linear transition from the videos into finally becoming a musician. (not quite what I said, but go ahead)
Me: My bad.
User 2: Everyday I wake up in Ohio.
So that happened. I objectified what the person was saying, and that I didn't word it right.
Then this happened. I bought Yeezy Pods back in February, and wanted to express how cool they were. This is what unfolded. God I hate this part the most, because it was so out of left field and so hurtful, being Jewish myself.
Me: My Yeezy Pods showed up. They are fucking sick.
User 3 (will be all users not associated with the core drama, just other users): 🤨
User 2: Ew
User 3: Interesting.
User 2: "I guess we see who loves antisemitism now." WHAT (they change my server name to Antisemite)
User 3: the only thing sick about yeezy pods is how i be throwing up lookin at em
User 2: *funny gif*
Me: *Curtis Payne you a hater gif (can't link it)* in all honesty, it's better to love something than to hate it. not a supporter of antisemitism, i was kidding.
User 3: Funny joke hahahahhahahaah yeah no. Muppet
Me: Yall got pressed over shoes. Crazy world we live in.
User 2: Yes because I'm actually pressed. Crazy how people just assume things all the time. Womp womp.
Me: the immediate response, no tag necessary. (they responded immediately)
User 2: OMG I'm on Discord.
Me: #chronicallyonline, kidding of course.
User 2: You're the one who changed your name. (back to my original name) Who's pressed now?
Me: The joke is over.
User 3: Bro at least have the balls to remove the joking lmao
User 2: I got the chronicallyonlinebitches tag for a reason.
Me: (responding to User 3) Can’t, every one gets triggered if I don’t add intent to the messages I send. (I was fuming at this point, very hurt and my perspective of Owner and their community was permanently changed).
User 3: Nah cus lowkey itd be funnier if you weren’t joking at least then you’d have grown a pair.
Me: I may misword something that they disagree with, and they’ll use that to their advantage to assert their dominance over me in the argument. (I intentionally placed 'dominance' to indirectly prove my point about miswording things).
User 3: Bro no one gives a shit about dominance.
User 2: Image saying: "things an unfuckable douche canoe says"
Me: Why are you calling me a douche canoe?
User 2: Omg you think I'm dominant? I'm riding that high for the next week. And this toke I'm about to take.
Me: go for it. I wasn’t talking about you.
User 2: I'm gonna anyway. Already beating my shmeat. Tho if you're talking about User 1, hes gonna waste that high. He's autistic and doesn't find joy in it. 😂😂😂 I wonder if I fumble my sentences he'll use it too.
I broke at this point, I sought vengeance and took no prisoners.
Me: I was talking about User 1. I shared Owners song, said I did in here, User said that I didn’t make a difference. I put a message in Owner's letter channel saying something “From tiktok videos to being a fully fledged musician” and congratulating Owner on reaching 1.5m streams on the song she made. User 1 called that message dismissive and said I wasn’t considering Owner was always a musician. I started out watching Owner for non-musician tiktoks then Owner started making (publishing) music. I hate having to make long overdrawn statements like these, but since you guys are fucking with me, I’d 🤓 too.
User 2: I mean she was a musician first? I don't see what's dominating about that statement. *gif of wall of text*
Me: I misworded it. I used to watch the non-musician tiktoks first before I listened to her music. (didn't misword it, see the wall I posted above.) I can’t misword anything without a discord mod saying umm actually.
User 2: Because you're expressing incorrect information otherwise. You saying Owner did TikTok before her music would throw off others, especially the younger ones who don't fact check. Two it discredits Owner's work prior to "blowing" up on TikTok. Just because it's your perception of events doesn't mean it's the truth. You expressed it as if it was such, Owner's TikTok came first then the music, which isn't the case. People are allowed to correct others and at least two people who have corrected you on things AREN'T mods. You aren't the only one being corrected on misinformation or being an ass.
Me: This whole thing could’ve been dismissed entirely by understanding that’s not the intention I intend to express, both the Yeezy Pods and congratulating Owner on Song. Now I tread carefully here in particular because you guys ruined my whole perspective on this community. What you call misinformation, was me trying to say from making tiktoks to publishing music, I’m proud of where Owner's gotten. I’m sorry, but wouldn’t you react similarly to how you treated me? I'd get fucking banned I fear.
User 3: But the point is Owner was making music before tiktok.
Me: great, you got your point across. I don’t even feel comfortable saying anything here anymore.
User 2: No because I'd realize I'm doing something if I'm being talked to? And yeah I'm gonna be fuckin grossed out you're buying Yeezy? He's a fuckin antisemitic piece of shit??? Why would you support his shit??? That's weird af. I'm allowed to have opinions on brands and shit? User 2 forbid I have an opinion on a terrible person and their brand.
Me: I bought them because they were $20.
User 2: User 3, I guess you'll have to publicly execute me for my crimes of opinion. IDC if they're free?
Me: If you have nothing nice to say to the person, don’t say it.
User 2: It's still supporting his brand one way or another and that's weird af. Womp womp.
Me: I could express my opinion on each of you and get fucking blasted into the sun over expressing my opinion if you disagreed with it. The rules are one sided then.
User 2: Idc if you blast your opinions about me. I myself aren't gonna ban your ass over it. I'm not sensitive about shit people say about me. Also I didn't call you antisemitic I said you love it (why the name change then?) Two different things. I have not expressed my opinions of you at all, nor will I. It's not my fault you can't handle some things being said. Maybe say you have triggers or traumas with it and people would slow down? (ironic)
Me: However, quite the contrary to popular belief, these two instances of communal discourse, do not reflect any changes on my opinion towards you folks. (me trying to divert the hate against me for buying $20 shoes. User 2 changed my name back to "Antisemite", I changed it back immediately.)
Me: responding to User 2's last sentence: They never have and never will. They claim I’m bullshitting them, to be weaponizing my traumas against them in an argument.
Do I have to release my medical documents /s where I was abused throughout my childhood which permanently affected the course of my development, so making music and confiding in someone of popular culture would be therapeutic? (sarcastic about the documents, although I wasn't for a time, but that was a long time ago in a different instance)
User 2: Dammit you shit on the carpet
Me: It never ends.
User 2: No one wants your fuckin medical documents first of all (missed the /s i appended after medical documents I see...)
Me: So I'll just shut the fuck up.
User 2: Second of all don't weaponize your traumas for the sake of this argument. (I thought I could express that I'm sensitive to these interactions, and that they'd slow down, but point proven again, it's bullshit to them.)
Me: I “love antisemitism” and I spread “misinformation”. I’ll never express a personal view nor opinion on anything ever again.
User 3: i mean most antisemites will also say "im just joking" when they say something like that.
Me: If I say an unbiased statement about anything and receive backlash from it, I will not respond with emotion.
User 2: Yet User 1 is expected to say he's being sarcastic or joking to spare your feelings? Seems unfair. You come at him for a half joke because YOU can't tell and now you expect people to not do the same?
Me: Regardless of if you claim I’m suppressing your opinions, or weaponizing my traumas for the sake of this argument, after being told it might trigger me, so people would slow down.
User 2: You specifically throwing out what was done. You could've been vague. You could've said literally anything else. Going into specifics is just going to upset people. Especially since this in GENERAL.
Me: Expressing your opinion or views of another person where it hurts others isn’t necessarily something to say to everyone.
User 2: Not the place to dump the laundry.
Me: Not the place to claim someone loves antisemitism either User 2. Or say me sharing a song made no impact User 1.
User 2: Uh yes it is? It's a general topic taught between the ages of 10 and 18.
User 3: when you literally make the statement? you placed it in the domain of conversation?
User 2: User 1 didn't say it didn't make an impact.
Me: It was nice mod, who saved the day and clarified that it made a difference to share it. regardless of how many people came to heed the call (785 people to be precise heeded the call. didn't say that last part at any point.)
User 2: Once again User 1 didn't say it didn't?
Me: I’m not replying anymore. I’m not able to get my point across.
User 2: User 1 I guess to appease the court we have to publicly execute you on the grounds of *looks at tiny paper* Specifications. (User 1 appeared from the shadows and started typing)
Me: “any perceivable difference” his words. done. (I haven't replied since.)
User 3: I stg half the time I come in here theres beef and I cant tell if its satire or not.
User 2: I know User 1's words? Idk anymore I'm too high for this.
User 3: That's gonna be me in like 20 mins
User 2: You date a man 2+ years, bear his furchildren and people think you don't know him, his words or his feelings.
User 3: skill issue.
USER 1 APPEARS REPLYING TO "any perceivable difference"
Exactly my words, in response directly to your words about beg hitting 1.5 million and how you used your social media to "play a hand in it" ("for some help" but sure put words in my mouth to direct your 'dominance') your words mate, I made a critique on the nature of your comment and the words used based entirely around the meaning and context of both that message and the dear Owner one. The words used make you sound like a self agrandizing prick with an ego the size of a collapsing star and and your pride consisting of a similar density. I would hope I was entirely wrong about the intent of the messages you sent because otherwise it builds a character perception of you that ain't all that flattering. You do you bud but just as I get critique for the way I phrase things as being insensitive you will get criticism over the way your words paint a story of an event. (How was it in any way that I'd get blasted into the fucking sun over this?)
Oops way too long
User 2: Damn User 1 hit the second tower (I'm from New York, it's in my bio on Discord). Now it's funnier.
User 3: lmaaaaoooo
User 2: Long and the short of it, grow a pair and word things better like everyone else has to, or chew rocks and realise people form an opinion of you from shit like that, and then deciding to announce you support a controversial figures shit incidentally or not feeds into that personality. Me I don't hate you by any stretch but it's harder and harder to take you seriously.
Now this is all here. I haven't replied, and will not reply anymore in this community unless I'm directly contacting the Owner through the server. I'm exhausted and the day just got started. Gonna go to sunday service with my friend's family since I care about them more than this whole situation. I'm emotionally destroyed. They treated me nicely, complimenting my music and my contributions to support Owner in their endeavors, however, clamped down because I'm an antisemite over buying Yeezy Pods, and I spread misinformation because I misworded/failed to properly display my intentions, and got snapped on over sarcastically pointing out that nobody else does.
Redditors I apologize that it's even got to this point, but AITA? I think I am after what they've said to me, I am typically one to follow the herd because it leads to less interpersonal conflict.

If you could add 4 more PLL teams, what would be their names, locations, and color schemes?

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Welcome back to my running series of WWF PPV Reviews from a ‘blind’ perspective (I have no idea what’s going to happen; the results, the feuds or how good any of the matches will be). I have always heard stories of the attitude era and golden age but never watched it myself so I set myself to watching every single PPV event chronologically. I am also watching Wrestling Bios ‘reliving the war’ series to keep me updated inbetween the events with the feuds, and to get excited about upcoming matches.
Before I review the matches, based on the past few episodes of raw and last PPVs I’ll let you know, going into the event, which match I’m most excited for and which feud I’m most excited to see.
The card tonight isn’t particularly stacked, mid card and opener wise, but it’s gotta be dude love vs stone cold. They had by far the best match last PPV and it will be the same story again tonight guaranteed. Anything involving stone cold will have McMahon involved and that feud is the big draw right now. Feud and match wise that’s my most anticipated match.
WWF Over The Edge 1998 Match Ratings
LOD 2000 vs DOA 1.75/5
Double J vs Steve mofuggin Blackman 1.25/5
Marc Mero vs Sable N/A
Kaientai vs Bradshaw & Taka Michinoku 1.25/5
Farooq vs The Rock 0.75/5
Kane vs Vader 1.75/5
D-Generation X vs The Nation 2.5/5
Dude Love vs Stone Cold Steve Austin 5/5
The absolute nerve of the wwf here to book LOD and DOA two PPVs in a row… to be fair though the crowd actually really seemed into this match. LOD still have a little juice left in the tank but they are truly just openers here. DOA I really don’t enjoy their in ring ability. It was an okay match and really not too much to say here. There was a very big pop when LOD won though.
The Rock cuts a promo next and he’s got his own entrance music, although it’s nowhere near as good as his future theme it’s still great that he’s not got that NOD music anymore, he’s finally his own wrestler. He shit talks the crowd but Farooq comes to the ring to get something damage in early before their match later. Not an amazing promo or anything but it builds some hype for later on although this is thrown up in the air as rock is injured from a pile driver on top of a chair. I suppose this is to make rock over as a champion?
Austin cuts a promo and says “mr McMahons ass belongs to me”… okay Steve if you say so.
Double J is brought to the ring by Tennessee Lee with some crazy visuals behind him as he does his strut in the ring but there’s just no crowd reaction apart from a few boos which made me laugh. Steve mofuggin Blackman then makes his way to the ring and double J doesn’t know what he’s in for.
The crowd seemed to be more entertained by the Al Snow silliness on the outside of the ring and you can’t blame them, this match was very very slow. The interference from Tennessee Lee was kinda interesting but there weren’t really many good looking moves, one of Blackmans kicks looked good in the middle of the match though. Another just below average okay match.
Next we get to see who sable has picked to represent her for the match and she makes her way to the ring but gah dayam she looks great tonight. Let’s see if she can get herself out of this toxic relationship… by fighting Mero herself? Mero then pretends to care about sable and lets her pin him… but then the switcheroo and what a scumbag! He gets the pin on sable and sings her out of the stadium. I feel like they should’ve done a little more with this match… or at least the post match angle.
The next match is apparently a “bonus match”? What does that even mean… I know what it means they didn’t have the roster right now for a full ppv so they booked this match in the middle as filler. But to be fair I have really enjoyed the light heavyweight Japanese wrestling recently so let’s see what they can do.
I actually enjoyed seeing Bradshaw just demolish multiple people half his size and taka did well but something about this match I really didn’t enjoy. It didn’t really flow well it felt random there was no story the crowd wasn’t into it… just not really a great viewing experience. Bradshaw was out over kinda here as he demolished the opponents but his team still lost…? I don’t know. But this first half of the ppv has really not been good.
Farooq comes to the ring and the rocks music plays multiple times before sgt slaughter comes to the ring to tell us that the rock has to compete or he will be stripped of the belt. There’s a countdown and rock just about beats the count making his way to the ring with a brace around his neck. If this does anything it only puts the rock over even as a heel, proving he has the heart of a champion, whereas I’m pretty sure they did this to make you enjoy seeing the heel struggling. But this is the wrong way round… Farooq is baby face in this situation but he’s done the heel move and Rocky has done the baby face move. Confusing by the wwf as you route for Rocky in this situation.
Farooq starts off demolishing the rock on the outside but eventually rock makes a comeback and delivers the peoples elbow. Farooq to be fair to him has improved his in ring ability and he’s actually able to have a coherent 1v1 match now. I have no idea what happened in the middle of the match but there was a false 3 count or something? I don’t know what they were going for there but it came off very badly and just looked weird. The rock wins and gets a pop but Farooq once again is playing heel as he assaults Rocky with two piledrivers after the bell. This was just a bad match… the angle was weird the match was bad the roles were reversed I don’t know what the wwf was thinking with this one.
DX comes to the ring after the match ends to help Farooq out to a big pop and they’re clearly the biggest group in the wwf now.
We’ve got Kane vs Vader next and last time these two wrestled I really enjoyed their chemistry so I hope they can pull something good off here, this PPV really needs it as honestly it’s just been bad so far… really bad.
I don’t know what to think of this match. It was average but the slug fest was good in the middle of the match a couple of times, and vaders moonsault looked good even though it missed. The stipulation for the unmasking was an okay gimmick but since Kane won and Vader had to unmask… which we’ve seen multiple times before so it was a little pointless.
Oh man this ppv is REALLY bad so far I just don’t even have the motivation to properly dissect these matches. Vader was looking pretty slow, Kane wasn’t performing that’s well it just wasn’t that great and the crowd had no pops during the whole bout.
The whole next section was so weird… the king literally takes a hall of famers leg off and gets assaulted by a literal like 80 year old? I don’t know what on earth this was all about. I looked it up and apparently Vince was telling Lawler to do this but it just came off as mean spirited and cringe. Please DX, please do something fun and save this event.
DX is very over with the crowd as they do a little showboating and talk to the people in attendance which was good before the match. The nation then walk out to the rocks music for whatever reason.
The crowd was pretty disinterested, chanting boring at points in this match and you can’t blame them it’s been a very slow night with not a lot to get hyped about. This PPV has really shown how thin the roster can feel. We’ve had Edge promo videos recently so I’m very excited for him to come in and mix up the matches in the mid card.
I thought the match was well worked though it just dragged on a little bit too long. I thought Owen hart and Hunter looked great and it made it interesting when they were at each others throats in the match because of their feud continually going on. Road dog actually impressed me as well he took some great hits and looked clean in the ring. I really don’t enjoy The Nations reliance on rest holds, they always do it and in a 6 man tag team match during a ppv semi main event they just shouldn’t do it; tag in someone else and mix it up. The crowd did have one pop for the spiked piledrivers on top of the belt. But when the nation won the crowd absolutely went mild. They did okay and it was better than anything else we’ve seen tonight but that’s not really saying much.
If this main event doesn’t hit then this PPV I will class as an absolute STINKER!! It has to hit, with all the heat between McMahon and Austin at the moment it just has to be interesting at the very least.
I didn’t realise that pat jerry and McMahon were all involved as officials for this match all playing roles to screw over Austin. The odds are completely stacked against Austin. We get a brilliant promo video really hyping up this main event and okay I’m back alive now I have faith that this match will save the event from being a failure. I will note though they seriously need to improve the mid card matches.
It was a great idea to have the ring announcers read from cards, it portrays that they’re just bigging themselves up to levels they don’t deserve, a great small detail to put themselves over as the heel “team”. They all get a huge round of boos as they are announced and brought to the ring, I can’t wait for the Austin pop. People REALLY don’t like Vince here as he’s got drinks and trash being thrown at him in the ring. Dude love is up next as the corporate version of his character, and I think it’s a combo that works really well. THIS IS GREAT WWF MORE OF THIS!! I applaud them for stretching this out as long as possible this is the right type of hype and buildup that works well. The ring announcer pat did a great job introducing everyone to the ring and refusing to introduce stone cold. The glass shatters and the crowd loses it, everyone is ready for Austin to open a can of whoop ass on all these fools, and I’m excited for the first time during this ppv. ALL OF A SUDDEN UNDERTAKERS MUSIC PLAYS AND YES! YES YES! I’m so glad he’s involved in this ppv in some way I had no clue he was going to be here. He will act as a “protector of the peace” kind of character here and make sure no shenanigans goes down. Great work. Would’ve liked to see him actually wrestle though 😒.
The match is underway and after Vince breaks Austin off foley he flips McMahon off for a MASSIVE pop from the audience. They continue to wrestle and it’s just getting going when the crowd chants “Vince is gay”, brilliant. Austin then takes foleys teeth out and stamps on them, complete disrespect. Austin takes a great looking bump on the steel steps as they both make their way to the outside of the ring as undertaker looks on. Just him being there improves the match even more. Austin takes another hard bump from an Irish whip to the corner and foley is in control during the early goings of this match. The crowd is thunderous right now having the JR and Lawler needing to shout to be heard.
Austin is thrown over the Spanish commentator table (this always makes me laugh as it’s ALWAYS them that people get thrown into) and it’s announced that this is a NO DQ match. Just brilliant stuff. Austin gets back in control though just demolishing foley by throwing him into the timekeepers area, over the barrier and he plays to the crowd in the middle of the audience, this was an amazing visual. It’s so impressive how Austin can have these matches even with his neck injury and knee troubles that he’s had. It’s then announced that falls count anywhere and there’s just less and less regulation as we go on, this could get really chaotic and I’m all here for it!
Austin is thrown on top of a car hood and foleys laying in some damage but Austin hot shots foley into another car. They’re making use of the creative set getting on top of one of the cars but foley throws Austin face first across another of the cars. Foley sunset flips off a car to a close 2 and a half kick out. This back and forth is f***ing brilliant.
Austin’s been busted open as foley assaults him with a metal pipe but Austin comes back with a flurry of right hands. But foley once again counters hitting him with two suplexes on the concrete floor but still Austin manages to kick out. Foley goes to drop an elbow from the top of a car but Austin rolls out of the way. McMahon slow counts but foley kicks out and Vince is intimidated by undertaker watching on closely. They make their way back to the ring and foley has exposed the turnbuckle after brisco trips Austin up and foley gets a chance to lay in some damage again. Foley hits Austin with a clean looking running knee and throws him into the exposed turnbuckle again, to which foley locks in a chin hold and we get a shot reminiscent of WM13 with hart and Austin. Patterson hands foley a chair and he hits Austin with a massive shot to the back, and a DDT on top of the chair but Austin continues to kick out.
The crowd is electric for this match as Austin counters with a kick to the face while foley holds a chair up, Austin then hits the chair on the ropes hitting himself in the face which was really funny. Foley hits McMahon with a chair, Austin hits a stunner, another ref comes down, brisco drags him out, undertaker drags brisco out, he hits him with a choke slam, he hits Patterson with a choke slam, Austin with another stunner and Austin uses McMahons arm to count himself and retain the title.
I couldn’t even keep up with the ending to that match that was pure insanity! It’s a car wreck in and out of the ring as the undertaker and Austin share a respectful look at each other and Austin celebrates in the ring after overcoming the odds. The crowd absolutely loved that match and so did I. By far match of the night, BY FAR. They absolutely knocked it out of the park, pure entertainment from bell to bell including before the match even started with Patterson and brisco. This also sets up some other potential matches in the wwf off this main event as I’m assuming dude love won’t get another chance at the title. A fantastic main event that exceeded expectations for me.
Overall this event is not worth watching at all, except for the main event. The main event seriously saved this ppv from being a complete failure, the crowd were bored and disinterested and even booed and chanted boring during the semi main event. Skip absolutely everything and just watch the main event because it was really good. This should be a message to the wwf that the mid card is really lacking any proper star power and I’m assuming at some point this year they will bolster their roster to improve this.
Irrespective of the main event I can’t give this ppv over 2 as the mid card was so unbelievably weak.
Overall rating 2/5

I'm enjoying all this bullet sweating, hand wringing, angst from the Irish and French about their club teams. Ireland is so good why is Leinster losing? Toulouse is so good why are France not better? Most of our guys play for Japanese teams with names Ive never heard of. If the bulls or stormers lose it makes no difference to the Boks.