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STIMULUS IS BACK!!! 💰 🤑 💸 Ends when it reaches 10k. They pay you $10 for each person who signs up with your link. ID required! Quick/easy to do!
It's a social media website with giveaways!
https://www.stimulus.com/ref/GypSeaKinG (May have to copy paste my link into your browser)
They have new giveaways all the time, and I won $100 once from a giveaway!
If you don't have a referral link try adding a profile picture, and a banner picture. I've also had to make a couple posts, and comment on others posts for my invite link to appear when it randomly wasn't there.
USA ONLY!

STIMULUS IS BACK!!! 💰 🤑 💸 Ends when it reaches 10k. They pay you $10 for each person who signs up with your link. ID required! Quick/easy to do!
It's a social media website with giveaways!
https://www.stimulus.com/ref/GypSeaKinG (May have to copy paste my link into your browser)
They have new giveaways all the time, and I won $100 once from a giveaway!
If you don't have a referral link try adding a profile picture, and a banner picture. I've also had to make a couple posts, and comment on others posts for my invite link to appear when it randomly wasn't there.
USA ONLY!

It was a typical Wednesday night, and I was lounging on the couch with my three cats—Mittens, Shadow, and Ginger—when the emergency alert blasted through my phone, startling all of us.
“THIS IS A CDC EMERGENCY ALERT. DO NOT GO OUTSIDE. REPEAT, DO NOT GO OUTSIDE. AN UNKNOWN PATHOGEN HAS BEEN RELEASED.”
The message repeated in a loop, sending chills down my spine. My cats, sensing my unease, huddled closer. I bolted downstairs to the basement, where I had a small stockpile of supplies. We’d be safe here, I thought. We’d ride this out.
Days turned into a week, and the supplies dwindled. The eerie silence outside was unnerving. No sounds of traffic, no neighbors, not even birds. The world had gone quiet. My cats and I were growing hungrier by the day, and I knew I had to venture out to find food.
Covering my mouth with a makeshift mask, I cautiously opened the front door. The streets were deserted, an apocalyptic wasteland. Abandoned cars lined the roads, and trash was strewn about, but there was no sign of life. I moved quickly, staying alert for any signs of danger.
As I rounded the corner near the local grocery store, I froze. In the distance, a group of people in hazmat suits with CDC and unrecognizable insignia on their uniforms were gathered around a body. The figure on the ground had charred skin, a sight that turned my stomach. I tried to back away silently, but one of them spotted me.
“Hey! Get inside!” one of the soldiers shouted, his voice muffled through the suit. “Now!”
Panic surged through me as they began to run towards me, their weapons raised. My legs moved before my mind could catch up, and I sprinted back the way I came. Bullets whizzed past, the sound of gunfire echoing through the empty streets.
I darted into an alley, heart pounding, and ducked behind a dumpster. My breaths were ragged, and I clutched my chest, trying to calm down. Peeking out, I saw the soldiers sweeping the area, their movements methodical and precise. They were searching for me.
After what felt like an eternity, they moved on, their shouts and footsteps fading into the distance. I waited, paralyzed by fear, until I was sure they were gone. I needed to get back home, to my cats, and figure out what the hell was happening.
I made it back without further incident, collapsing inside and bolting the door behind me. My cats mewed softly, sensing my distress. I sank to the floor, trying to make sense of the chaos.
Days passed, and the hunger gnawed at us relentlessly. The hazmat soldiers were a constant presence, patrolling the neighborhood. Each time they passed, I held my breath, praying they wouldn’t discover us.
One night, as I lay in the darkness with my cats, I heard something outside. A soft scratching at the door. My heart leaped into my throat. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and approached cautiously.
“Help… please…” a weak voice whispered.
I cracked the door open and found a woman, her skin marred by burns similar to the body I’d seen. She collapsed into my arms, barely conscious. I dragged her inside and locked the door again.
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with terror. “They did this… the soldiers. They’re not CDC. They’re covering up something… something worse than the pathogen…”
Before she could say more, she slipped into unconsciousness. I stared at her, my mind racing. The real threat wasn’t the pathogen—it was something far more sinister.
The soldiers returned that night, searching more aggressively. I knew we couldn’t stay here much longer. Gathering my cats and what little we had left, I prepared to leave. We had to find a safe place, a place where we could uncover the truth.
As I stepped into the night with my cats in tow, I knew there was no turning back. The world outside had become a nightmare, and the only way to survive was to uncover the secrets that the soldiers were so desperately trying to hide.As I stepped into the night with my cats in tow, I knew there was no turning back. The world outside had become a nightmare, and the only way to survive was to uncover the secrets that the soldiers were so desperately trying to hide.
We moved swiftly through the deserted streets, keeping to the shadows. Every rustle of leaves or distant sound of movement set my nerves on edge. The weight of the knife in my pocket was the only comfort I had.
I needed a plan, but first, we needed a safe place to rest. I remembered an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, a relic from a bygone era. It wasn’t ideal, but it was our best shot. We reached the warehouse without incident, and I carefully pried open a side door that had seen better days. Inside, the air was stale, and the darkness was absolute, but it would do.
Setting up a makeshift camp, I turned my attention to the woman who had found us. She was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. I cleaned her wounds as best as I could with the limited supplies I had. My mind raced with questions. Who was she? What did she know about the soldiers and their cover-up?
Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open. She looked at me, her gaze intense. "You have to leave," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "They're looking for you. They know you're here."
"Who are they?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. "What's really going on?"
She tried to sit up, wincing in pain. "They released something—something they can't control. The pathogen was just the beginning. They're trying to contain it, but it's spreading faster than they anticipated. The burns… they're from the inside out. It's like the body is burning itself."
My heart pounded as her words sank in. "What do we do?"
"We need to get to the CDC headquarters," she said, her voice gaining strength. "There's evidence there. Proof of what they did. If we can get it out to the world, we might have a chance to stop this."
It was a long shot, but it was a plan. I gathered what little supplies we had left and prepared for the journey. The CDC headquarters was on the other side of town, a perilous trek through an urban wasteland patrolled by hostile forces.
As we set out, I kept a vigilant eye on our surroundings, my cats close by. The streets seemed even more desolate, an eerie silence hanging in the air. We moved quickly, avoiding the main roads and sticking to the back alleys.
Halfway to our destination, we heard the distant hum of engines. We ducked into an abandoned building, peering out from the shattered windows. A convoy of military vehicles rolled by, soldiers scanning the area with flashlights. I held my breath, praying they wouldn't notice us.
Once they passed, we resumed our journey. The closer we got to the CDC headquarters, the more signs of destruction we saw. Burnt-out vehicles, collapsed buildings, and the occasional body lying in the street. It was as if the world had ended while we were hiding in our basement.
Finally, we reached the perimeter of the CDC compound. The building was heavily guarded, soldiers in hazmat suits patrolling every entrance. We needed a distraction. I spotted a gas station nearby and formulated a risky plan.
"Stay here," I whispered to the woman, handing her the knife. "If anything happens, run."
She nodded, her eyes filled with determination. I crept towards the gas station, my heart pounding. Breaking a window, I managed to find a few fuel canisters. I rigged a crude explosive with some rags and matches, praying it would be enough.
With a deep breath, I lit the makeshift fuse and tossed it towards the gas pumps. The explosion was deafening, a massive fireball lighting up the night sky. The soldiers scrambled towards the blaze, giving us the opening we needed.
We slipped through the perimeter and made our way into the CDC building. Inside, it was chaos. Alarms blared, and people in lab coats rushed about. We found a terminal and the woman began to download files, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
"Hurry," I urged, my eyes on the entrance. "They'll be here any second."
The download finished just as the first soldiers burst into the room. We grabbed the USB drive and ran, bullets whizzing past us. We burst through a side exit and into the night, the precious evidence clutched tightly in my hand.
Now we had the proof, but getting it out to the world would be another challenge. As we disappeared into the darkness, I knew this was just the beginning. The fight for survival had only just begun, and the truth was our only weapon against the horrors that had been unleashed.We ran through the night, the USB drive clutched tightly in my hand. The CDC soldiers' shouts and gunfire faded into the distance as we made our way through the abandoned streets. We couldn’t stop now. The evidence we carried was the only hope of exposing the truth and stopping this nightmare.
"We need to get to the old radio tower on Pine Hill," the woman said, her voice strained but determined. "It's heavily guarded, but it's our best chance to broadcast the evidence to the survivors."
The radio tower was a relic from the pre-internet era, now repurposed by the government for emergency broadcasts. It was located on a hill just outside town, a place that would be swarming with soldiers. We had no choice.
The journey to Pine Hill was treacherous. We stayed off the main roads, navigating through back alleys and abandoned buildings. Every sound made us jump, every shadow felt like a threat. My three cats, Mitten, Shadow, and Ginger, stayed close, sensing the tension.
As we approached the hill, the reality of our mission set in. The radio tower loomed ahead, surrounded by a high fence and a contingent of soldiers. Their hazmat suits and the strange insignia on their uniforms made them look more alien than human.
"We need a plan," I whispered, crouching behind a crumbling wall with the woman. "We can’t just charge in."
She nodded, her eyes scanning the area. "We need to create a distraction, something to draw them away from the main gate."
I thought about the explosion at the gas station. "If we can set off another explosion, it might draw enough of them away for us to sneak in."
We scavenged the nearby buildings, finding a few old fuel canisters and some rags. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. We set up the makeshift bombs at a safe distance from the gate, rigging them to go off with a delay.
"Ready?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
She nodded, her face set in grim determination. We lit the fuses and ran back to our hiding spot. Moments later, the night was torn apart by a series of explosions. Flames shot into the sky, and the soldiers at the gate scrambled towards the inferno.
"Now!" she shouted, and we sprinted towards the fence. The distraction had worked; most of the guards had left their posts. We cut through the fence with a pair of wire cutters and slipped inside, making our way towards the tower.
Inside the compound, we moved swiftly but cautiously. We encountered a few straggling soldiers, and a quick, silent takedown ensured they wouldn’t raise the alarm. The main control room was on the top floor, and we had to move fast.
As we ascended the stairs, the sound of footsteps echoed from below. More soldiers were coming. We reached the control room and barricaded the door behind us. The equipment was outdated but functional, and the woman immediately began setting up the broadcast.
"Keep them off me," she said, her fingers flying over the controls. "I need a few minutes."
I nodded, gripping the knife tightly as I stood guard. The door shook as the soldiers pounded on it, shouting orders. I knew it wouldn’t hold for long. My heart raced as I prepared for the inevitable confrontation.
The door burst open, and soldiers poured in. I fought with everything I had, slashing and dodging, trying to buy her enough time. The room was filled with chaos, the sound of gunfire and shouts echoing off the walls.
"Got it!" she yelled, just as a soldier lunged at me. I managed to dodge, and she hit the broadcast button, sending the evidence out over the airwaves.
The soldier caught me off guard, his gun aimed directly at my head. But before he could pull the trigger, the woman tackled him, knocking the gun from his hand. Together, we fought off the remaining soldiers, adrenaline fueling our every move.
The broadcast was live, transmitting to any survivors who might be listening. The truth was out there now, and there was no turning back. We had exposed the government's dark secret, revealing the horrors they had unleashed.
As the last soldier fell, we took a moment to catch our breath. The room was a mess, but we were alive. The woman looked at me, her eyes fierce.
"We did it," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief.
"What's your name?" I asked, realizing I never knew the name of the woman who had saved us all.
"Emily," she replied. "And you?"
"David," I said, offering her a weary smile. "What's next?"
"We find more survivors," Emily said. "We need to band together, stay safe, and figure out how to stop this once and for all."
As we left the radio tower, my cats trailing behind us, I knew the road ahead would be long and dangerous. But for the first time since the outbreak, I felt a glimmer of hope. We had taken the first step in fighting back, and we wouldn’t stop until we reclaimed our world.As we descended Pine Hill, the adrenaline from our successful broadcast still coursed throughour veins, we encountered a lone CDC soldier. He was younger than the others, his hazmat suit splattered with dirt and blood. He raised his hands in surrender, his eyes wide with fear.
"Please, don’t shoot," he begged, his voice trembling.
Emily and I exchanged glances. We needed answers, and he might be our best shot.
“Drop your weapon and get on your knees,” I commanded, keeping the knife at the ready. He complied, dropping his rifle and kneeling on the ground.
“Who are you?” Emily demanded. “And what the hell is going on?”
“My name is Sergeant Walker,” he stammered. “I’m just following orders. Please, you have to understand, it’s not what you think.”
Emily stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Then explain it to us. What have you released? What’s really happening?”
He swallowed hard, glancing around nervously. “They didn’t tell us everything at first. The pathogen was supposed to be a bioweapon, something to give us an edge in warfare. But it mutated… it’s out of control.”
“We already know it’s bad,” I said, tightening my grip on the knife. “Tell us something we don’t know, or I swear we won’t be as kind as we’ve been.”
His eyes darted between us, and he took a deep breath. “There’s a new variant,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “It’s worse than the first one. The mortality rate is 98 percent, and it’s incredibly transmissive. It turns the infected’s brain to jello, makes them mindless, driven by a desperate urge to consume others.”
I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. “What do you mean, ‘consume others’?”
“They eat other infected,” Walker said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like they’re trying to regain parts of their humanity, but it’s futile. They’re just spreading the infection further.”
Emily’s face paled. “How did this happen? How could you let this happen?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said, tears forming in his eyes. “We were just following orders. We didn’t know. By the time we realized, it was too late. The higher-ups tried to contain it, but it spread too fast. Now they’re just trying to cover it up, to hide their mistake.”
I looked at Emily, the horror of his words sinking in. “What do we do now?”
“We have to find more survivors, warn them,” she said, her voice resolute. “We need to band together and fight back, somehow.”
I turned back to Walker. “Thank you for telling us. Get out of here, go somewhere safe. But know this: if we ever see you again, and you’re still working for them, we won’t be as merciful.”
He nodded, tears streaming down his face. “Thank you. I… I’m sorry.”
We watched as he ran off into the night, his figure quickly swallowed by the darkness. The information he’d given us weighed heavily on our minds. The situation was far worse than we’d imagined, but we couldn’t let despair take hold. We had a mission, a purpose.
As we continued our journey through the desolate streets, my cats trailing close behind, I felt a renewed sense of determination. The world had become a living nightmare, but we had taken the first steps toward fighting back. We would find more survivors, we would uncover more truths, and we would stop this horror, no matter what it took.
The road ahead was fraught with danger, but for the first time, we had hope—and that was something they couldn’t take away from us.
As we watched Sergeant Walker disappear into the darkness, a sinking feeling settled in my chest. The weight of his revelations hung heavy in the air, and I couldn’t shake the sense of despair that threatened to overwhelm me. But before we could fully process what had just transpired, footsteps echoed behind us, and Walker’s voice called out.
“Wait! Please, don’t leave me!” he cried, his voice frantic.
Emily and I turned, startled by his sudden return. His hazmat suit was torn, his face streaked with dirt and tears.
“What do you want?” Emily demanded, her voice sharp with suspicion.
Walker stumbled forward, his hands trembling. “I can’t go back to the CDC,” he gasped, desperation evident in his eyes. “Not after what they’ve done. You said you need survivors… well, I’m one of them. Please, I’ll do anything. Just let me stay with you.”
I exchanged a hesitant glance with Emily. Could we trust him? After everything he’d been a part of?
“We can’t stay here,” I said, my voice low. “If you’re coming with us, you need to keep up.”
Walker nodded eagerly, his relief palpable. “Thank you. I won’t let you down, I swear.”
With that, we continued on our journey, Walker falling into step beside us. The night stretched on, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of our footsteps and the distant howl of the wind. We didn’t speak, each lost in our own thoughts, haunted by the horrors we’d witnessed.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, we found ourselves on the outskirts of a small town. It was quiet, eerily so, but there was a sense of life here that we hadn’t felt in days.
“This is where we’ll start,” Emily said, her voice firm. “We’ll find survivors, gather supplies, and figure out our next move.”Walker nodded, determination shining in his eyes. “I’m with you,” he said, his voice steady. “Whatever it takes.”And so, with the dawn of a new day, our unlikely group set out into the unknown, united by a common goal:
survival. The road ahead would be long and fraught with danger, but together, we had hope—and that was something worth fighting for.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light over the desolate town, we knew our first order of business was finding hazmat suits. With the threat of infection looming over us, protection was paramount if we were to continue our mission.
Scouring the abandoned streets, we moved with caution, alert for any sign of danger. Emily led the way, her eyes scanning every building for a potential source of supplies. After what felt like hours of searching, we finally stumbled upon an old hardware store.
The door creaked open, revealing shelves lined with dusty boxes and debris-covered floors. We moved quickly, gathering whatever supplies we could find—flashlights, batteries, duct tape—anything that might be useful in our fight for survival.
But the real prize was the hazmat suits tucked away in a corner, their bright yellow material standing out against the gloom. We wasted no time in suiting up, grateful for the added layer of protection they provided.
Once we were fully geared up, we stood in the dim light of the store, our spirits lifted by the newfound sense of security. But our moment of respite was short-lived, as a noise from outside drew our attention.
Footsteps echoed in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. We exchanged tense glances, our hands instinctively reaching for our weapons. Whoever—or whatever—was approaching, we were ready to defend ourselves.
The door swung open, and a figure stumbled inside, panting heavily. It was a young woman, her hazmat suit torn and bloodied, her face streaked with dirt and sweat.
“Please,” she gasped, collapsing to the ground. “Help me.”
Emily rushed to her side, pulling off her helmet to reveal a shock of red hair and wide, terrified eyes.
“What happened?” Emily asked, her voice gentle but urgent.
The woman took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I was part of a group trying to escape the city,” she said, her voice trembling. “But we were ambushed by infected. They came out of nowhere, tearing through us like animals. I’m the only one left.”
A chill ran down my spine as I listened to her story. The infected were becoming more aggressive, more organized. If we didn’t act fast, we could be next.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, my voice tense. “Now.”
With a sense of urgency, we helped the woman to her feet and gathered our supplies. The hardware store was no longer safe, its walls offering little protection against the growing threat outside.
As we slipped back into the sunlight, our hazmat suits offering a false sense of security, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our journey was far from over. The road ahead would be treacherous, filled with danger at every turn. But together, we would face whatever challenges came our way, united in our determination to survive.

The ~Combat Management System market~ is expected to grow at a significant CAGR during the forecast period (2023-2029). This informative Combat Management System Market report provides new method and covers foremost regions such as Latin America, Middle East, North America, Europe, Africa and Asia Pacific. Making most out of the consumer insights and market opportunities, market players can boost up the revenue rate of their business. It also permits key organizations to make communication with customers and know their demands for making right investment in the product development. By increasing the product portfolio by referring the important market data provided in this Combat Management System Market research report, key players can grow and expand their business forward. Continuously developing customer demands are also described in this global report to help new entrants make required changes in the final product launch and then bring into the market. It becomes easy for key players to prioritize the demands and requirements of target audience and have complete understanding of end-user experience with the help of this Combat Management System Market study report.
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Saab Australia and the Australian Ministry of Defence have signed an enterprise partnering agreement to provide Saab's 'Next Generation' Combat Management System in 2020. The decision was made as part of the government's objective to enhance the Royal Australian Navy and improve its battle-winning capabilities. This investment will improve the interoperability and lethality of the surface fleet, as well as the capacity to operate as a joint force with its coalition partners and allies. The Saab 'Next Generation' Combat Management System is intended to improve the naval platforms' mission capabilities. Anzac-class frigates, new Arafura-class offshore patrol boats, and Supply-class replenishment ships will also receive the system. Saab Australia intends to use this knowledge to design the Aegis system's Australian interface. This weapon system will be installed aboard Australia's Hunter-class frigates and Hobart-class destroyers. With improved naval defense systems in all regions, the global combat management system market is expected to grow in the future years.
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· Market Coverage
· Market number available for – 2024-2031
· Base year- 2024
· Forecast period- 2024-2031
· Segment Covered- By Source, By Product Type, By Applications
· Competitive Landscape- Archer Daniels Midland Co., Ingredion Inc., Kerry Group Plc, Cargill Inc., and others
Combat Management System Market Report by Segment
By Sub-System
• Self-defense Management System
• Situational Awareness System
• Track Management System
• Weapon Management System
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• Submarines
• Frigates
• Amphibious Ships
• Corvettes
• Others (Fast Attack Craft (FAC), Aircraft Carriers)
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North America
• US
• Canada
Europe
• Germany
• UK
• France
• Spain
• Italy
• Rest of Europe
Asia-Pacific
• China
• Japan
• India
• Rest of Asia-Pacific
Rest of the World
• Latin America
• Middle East and Africa
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New Chapter on every MWF (Monday, Wednesday,Friday)
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Chapter 22: A New Resolve
Raindrops cascaded down Gribble's muscular form as he emerged from the cave, his newly transformed body glistening in the soft light of dawn filtering through the lush forest canopy. The thunderstorm had given way to a peaceful landscape, but tension hung in the air. Gribble inhaled deeply, the scent of damp earth and foliage filling his nostrils. Leaves rustled gently and birds chirped in the distance, the sounds reaching his keen ears.
The power of the Thundercat's heart pulsed through his veins, a constant reminder of the incredible transformation he had undergone and the challenges awaiting him. Gribble took a moment to survey his surroundings with his enhanced senses fully awakened. Despite the tranquil scene, he knew danger lurked nearby. With a deep breath, he steeled himself for the journey ahead, his newfound strength and agility filling him with confidence and purpose.
Gribble's ears twitched as they picked up distant sounds of Grimrock forces and Royal Trolls moving through the forest, snapping twigs and rustling undergrowth as they searched for him. His heightened sense of smell detected their distinct scents carried on the breeze - the sweat and metal of their weapons.
Gribble's mind raced, considering his options. He had to act fast to evade capture. His jaw set with determination as he formulated a plan, knowing he had to reach Troll Valley and check on Tormak, the shaman who helped him when he was injured. He owed Tormak a debt of gratitude. Urgency filled Gribble at the thought of ensuring his friend's safety.
Scanning the forest with his enhanced vision, Gribble picked out faint traces of a path leading back to the valley. He realized returning while his pursuers were distracted searching for him was his best chance to get there undetected. The goblin's eyes narrowed as he assessed the risks and opportunities. With renewed resolve, he took a deep breath and began moving forward, his powerful strides carrying him swiftly and silently into the dense foliage.
Gribble navigated the challenging undergrowth with a newfound grace and agility, his enhanced strength allowing him to push through tangled vines and branches with ease. His heightened senses kept him constantly alert for any signs of danger. Eyes darting from shadow to shadow, ears twitching at every snap and rustle, nostrils flaring as he continuously scanned for his pursuers' scent, Gribble marveled at the power coursing through his transformed body.
Each purposeful step forward was imbued with fierce determination, driven by the need to reach Troll Valley and protect those he held dear. The incredible changes the Thundercat's heart had wrought filled Gribble with a sense of purpose, even as his mind grappled with the implications of the terrible destruction he might now be capable of. Deeper and deeper into the forest he pressed, unwavering resolve propelling him onward into the unknown.
Suddenly, Gribble's sensitive hearing picked up rhythmic thudding of approaching footsteps, heavy boots impacting soft earth. At the same time, the distinct musky odor of Royal Trolls and goblins reached his nostrils on the gentle breeze. Gribble's heart raced, adrenaline surging through him at the realization his enemies were closing in.
His enhanced senses quickly constructed a vivid mental map, assessing the distance and direction of the approaching threats. He had to act fast to avoid detection, newfound abilities put to the test as he navigated the treacherous landscape. Muscles tensed, body coiled with anticipation, Gribble prepared to alter course, ready to utilize his enhanced speed and agility.
With precise, calculated movements, Gribble detoured slowly and carefully, his enhanced senses guiding him through the dense foliage. His heart pounded, a mix of excitement and trepidation, as he tested the limits of his transformed body. Each step was a test, a challenge, a stepping stone on the path to mastering his transformed self. And with each stride, his confidence grew, his determination solidified into an unbreakable core. His heart pounding from both excitement and fear, with senses alight and muscles thrumming with barely contained power.
Moving with fluid grace that belied the incredible strength coiled in his muscles, Gribble's mind raced with both thrilling possibilities and terrible implications of his newfound powers. But he remained laser focused on his goal, confidence growing with each silent stride. The need to reach his friends in Troll Valley drove him ever forward.
Keen eyes scanning ahead for hidden dangers or ambush points, Gribble's enhanced vision picked out even the faintest traces of disturbance in the undergrowth - bent leaves, scuffed moss, snapped twigs - subtle signs of passage invisible to normal sight. His mind worked overtime, constantly assessing risks and calculating the safest route, senses feeding him torrents of information to process.
Preternatural awareness of his surroundings kept him vigilant as he navigated the forest. Eyes darted between shadows, ears attuned to the faintest unnatural sound, nostrils twitching at any break in the earthy forest scents. Not for an instant could he let his guard down, lest he pay the ultimate price.
Boulders, streams, and tangles of roots proved no obstacle to Gribble as he traversed the forest, enhanced strength and agility allowing him to clamber and leap with almost effortless grace. Powerful muscles rippled beneath green skin as he vaulted fallen logs and boulders. Reaching a small stream, his body coiled and sprung, propelling him across the burbling water without so much as a splash.
Gribble's passage left no trace, every movement silent and efficient, aided by his heightened senses scanning ceaselessly for any sign of pursuit. Singular purpose consumed him, all energy focused on remaining undetected. Body and mind worked in perfect harmony, decades of hard-won survival skills meshing seamlessly with his newfound abilities.
Forefront in Gribble's thoughts as he journeyed was Tormak, the troll shaman who had come to his aid. Concern gnawed at him, worry for his friend's welfare in the time since their last encounter. His imagination raced, conjuring myriad possibilities of what might have befallen the kindly troll. Even his enhanced senses could provide no answers across the distance separating them.
Clinging to hope that Tormak still lived, Gribble's jaw clenched with determination, pace quickening. He had to reach him, had to repay the generosity Tormak had shown him, the debt he owed his friend. Memories of the shaman's gentle wisdom, the compassion in his golden eyes, spurred Gribble onward like a lodestone. He would not fail him.
And through it all, Gribble's heightened senses never ceased their constant scan for danger. Ears swivelled at the skitter of a lizard over bark, at the distant shriek of a hawk. Nostrils flared, sifting the sea of mingled scents for any wisp of goblin or troll. Even as his thoughts wandered, his body remained taut and ready, a coiled spring awaiting the first hint of a threat.
Physical reactions came without conscious thought now - muscles tensing at unexpected sounds, body shifting subtly into a fighting crouch at the faintest whiff of predator musk. The instincts of a being fashioned for battle, kill or be killed. There could be no rest, no respite from the vigilance. Gribble's very survival depended on it.
As he loped onward, Gribble pondered the enormity of the change that had been wrought upon him, the world-altering power that now suffused every sinew and bone. His reminiscing took him back to that pivotal moment in the cave, the instant the Thundercat's heart had passed his lips. The rush of raw energy that had surged through him like a bolt of lightning, the agony and ecstasy of his metamorphosis.
In the span of a few heartbeats, the very foundations of his being had been rewritten. Senses sharpened to an almost unbearable keenness, nerve afire with new life, veins swelling with physical might beyond mortal ken. The feeling of invincibility, of boundless vigour, was intoxicating. Addictive.
And yet, with this great power came an equally great burden. Already Gribble could feel the weight of it settling upon his shoulders, the knowledge that he now held in his palms the capacity for acts of greatness... and of untold devastation. The thought sent a shiver through him despite the warmth of his exertion.
Every movement, every flex of newfound strength, held a reminder of the responsibility that now rested on him. Of the precarious balance he must strike, the control he must master, lest his power consume him and all those around him. Harnessing this raw, primal force, channelling it for good - that would be his true test. One he could not afford to fail.
Dawn's light gradually infused the forest as Gribble ran on, tirelessly, honey-gold rays slanting through the canopy to dapple the loam with pools of warmth. With the rising sun came a rekindling of hope, a sense of promise. Of new beginnings. The night's dangers were fading with the shadows, and pride kindled in Gribble's chest at the thought of the distance he'd covered, the progress he'd made.
There was still far to go, many challenges yet to surmount, but for now, in this moment, Gribble allowed himself a small surge of accomplishment. Of gratitude for the abilities that had let him come so far unscathed. For the first time, the true scope of the gift he'd been granted began to settle in his mind. The myriad potentials, the uncharted paths stretching out before him.
His resolve crystallized like hardening steel, a sense of purpose, of destiny, straightening his spine and quickening his gait. Whatever trials lay ahead, whatever threats loomed over Tormak, over Troll Valley, he would meet them unflinchingly. Would fight with every ounce of strength in his transformed body, with every pulse of the Thundercat's power in his veins.
He had been granted these abilities for a reason, offered up this chance to be more, to rise above his humble origins. To become a champion, a protector, a beacon of hope in a world torn by strife. And by the spirits, he would prove himself worthy of it. Would give his all, his very life if need be, to honour the legacy that had been bestowed upon him.
Slowing his stride, Gribble cast his gaze about the sun-drenched woods, taking in the beauty, the vibrance, the life that surrounded him on all sides. This, this was what he fought for. What he would gladly lay down his life to defend. The right of every creature to live and grow and thrive, free from the shadow of fear and oppression.
A faint smile curved his lips as new strength surged through him, a sense of rightness, of affirmation. He was on the proper path, guided by the spirits, blessed by fate. Come what may, he would walk it with his head held high, his heart true, and the power of the Thundercat roaring in his blood.
Drawing a deep breath of crisp morning air, Gribble centred himself, reaching for that newfound well of calm at his core, the eye in the storm of his transformed being. Then, with a flex of mighty thews, he launched himself into the next leg of his journey, little more than a verdant blur flashing between the ancient trees. Onward, to Troll Valley. To Tormak, who might be in need of his aid. To a destiny still unfolding with each bounding stride.

My boyfriend and I have been together 2 years and have decided we are ready to have a baby together. This might seem early in the relationship, however, I have been with my fair share of bad boyfriends and I know this one is the one and we will make good parents together. We actually really wanted to have a baby together within the first year however we decided to be responsible as we weren’t living together, didn’t have much money saved and just knew it wasn’t the right time. We are now both 25, we have a house together, have enough savings and feel it is absolutely the right time. We have worked hard to get to this place and are very excited for the next step. Not only are we excited to actually start a family but I have always dreamed about telling my family and how excited they will be. I was also extremely excited to tell my boyfriends family as he is the oldest and our baby would make his parents grandparents for the first time. When I first met my boyfriends Dad, he asked when the grandkids were coming, telling us he couldn’t wait to be a grandpa. He also got out his phone and showed us a video of a gender reveal involving a truck blowing the coloured smoke out of the pipes and told us this is what we would do when we had a gender reveal one day (he is a very proud truck driver from a long line of truck drivers). My boyfriend and I laughed and said that was cool and we will do it one day. Every time we rang my boyfriends Dad as he lives 5 hours away, he would always ask when his grandchildren are coming.
Fast forward a year. My boyfriend and I were still trying to conceive with no luck yet, we knew it wouldn’t happen over night. However, one night we receive a facetime phone call from my boyfriends Dad. He is sitting beside my boyfriends younger brother, we’ll call him Tom, who is 22 and says ‘guess what’. Tom then holds up a new born onesie and says ‘we’re having a baby’.
My heart sinks. And this is where all of my ugly, angry, sad emotions begin. I would also just like to disclose before I go on, that I KNOW I should not feel this way, but it’s just the way I do feel.
My boyfriends younger brother Tom has been with his girlfriend for 4 months, we’ll call her Sarah. She has an 18month old baby with someone else and doesn’t work to take care of this child. Tom lives next door to his Dad and step mom in a rental with 2x of his step brothers, absolute bachelor pad. They all work in the truck yard down the road and smoke bongs in the shed every night. Sarah moved in to the house with her child as soon as she met Tom and sure enough now she is pregnant with his child. Tom is always broke, asking my boyfriend for money all the time. He is constantly caught short for rent, which isn’t even that much considering it is split 3 ways. Tom drives a two door v8 Ute which is his pride and joy, which he will now have to sell to get a family friendly car.
My boyfriend is happy for his brother, yet I feel crushed. I want to feel happy for them.
A few months later, my boyfriend and I took some time off work to visit his dads side of the family (his parents are split). We drove 5 hours to come and stay with them as my boyfriend doesn’t see them very often. Whilst we were up there we met Sarah for the first time and her child from her previous relationship. Sarah, Tom and the child had moved into a slightly bigger ‘bar’ room out the back of the bachelor house and it was absolutely trashed. They are sleeping on a mattress with no sheets, there is clothes, toys, empty food containers, dishes, rubbish covering the floor and surfaces. Tom simply remarked ‘when you have kids, you’ll understand’. I get that, having kids is hard and messy but this was beyond that, and, Sarah doesn’t work she is home all day every day. My boyfriend commented that Tom use to be a neat freak which I found hard to believe.
Whilst we were up there it seemed all everyone could talk about is this baby. Sarah was also constantly leaving her other child with various of Tom’s family members and just going to bed. My boyfriend and Tom’s stepmum quietly said to me that she is constantly left with the child whose nappy is always full. I spent some time with Sarah who mentioned to me that she happened to fall pregnant and asked Tom if he wanted to keep it or if she should abort it. My boyfriend and I had argued over whether we thought it was a planned baby or not, my boyfriend insisting it was planned. Obviously not.
Sarah also began discussing with us that she and Tom were going to do a gender reveal. She then explained that they were going to do the same truck idea that my boyfriends Dad had showed us. I made an excuse to leave the room and I burst into tears. This made me feel like his Dad didn’t actually care if my boyfriend and I had a baby, he just wanted a grandchild no matter where it came from, and Tom did it first. Whilst we were staying with my boyfriends Dad, we also saw so many fights unfold in front of us between Tom and Sarah. Yes couples fight but they were screaming at each other, in front of the 18 month old and getting in each others faces. A very healthy thing for a couple about to be a family of 4. Not long after this trip, Tom and Sarah announced the pregnancy on Facebook and all of my boyfriends family commented on there how excited they were and how Tom is a ‘clever’ boy as there will be 5 generations since Tom and my boyfriends great grandparents are still alive. I again tried to feel happy for them but this was stifled by my feeling of anger. Since day one of meeting my boyfriend I had always put in a HUGE effort to not only meet my boyfriends family but we travelled immensely to meet all sides of family as he has family all over the place. His mum and her partner live away and we often spent lots of weekends with them which was not easy at all as his mum is addicted to hard drugs and my boyfriend is the only family member that still speaks to her. We also travelled 4 hours multiple times to stay with his grand father and visit cousins. We travelled 3 hours on Christmas Eve to spend Christmas with his cousins family and recently we travelled another 6 hour round trip to spend the day with his Nanna who is sick. Family is very important to me and also my boyfriend so I always made a huge effort to visit them with him. This is what has bothered me almost the most, my boyfriend and I have made such an effort with his family, yet, all they can talk about is Tom and Sarah having a baby. Tom and Sarah have not made nearly as much effort as us to meet any family, Sarah has met Tom’s dad and brother (my boyfriend) and that’s it. Everytime my boyfriend speaks to one of his relatives it’s always ‘isn’t it so exciting, not long now’.
A few months after this, my boyfriend and I had a triumph - we were pregnant! Followed by heart ache, an early miscarriage.
I spoke to my family who were extremely supportive and my boyfriend told his who were supportive at the time but just told us to ‘keep trying’. No one has spoken about it since, which is okay, but, I am not okay. Whilst I was feeling so hurt and upset before, it is now millions times worse. I have had good days, and bad days. One of my worst days was recently when Sarah invited us to her baby shower. My boyfriend came home from work and said ‘we’ll have to book some time off work since it’s on the Saturday and we have to travel’. We then got into an argument as I was so hurt that he just assumed I was okay to go to it. After a few days of thought I realised how important it was to my boyfriend and I had to push my feelings aside. I’m still so frustrated though because aside from all of my pain, I KNOW they would not travel 5 hours and take time off work to go to our baby shower if we had one.
So the baby shower is in 2 weeks and I’m still having the same ugly, angry, sad, disgusting thoughts swirling around my head.
Why do they get to have a baby within 4 monts of knowing each other, completely unprepared, no money, no vehicle, no house, no nothing? They didn’t plan this, she just let herself get pregnant or they were so careless not to use protection. My boyfriend and I could’ve gotten pregnant within the first months of dating but we’re not that stupid and irresponsible. My boyfriends stepbrother has moved out of the house and is living in a shed so that Sarah and Tom have more room to have a baby which I think is so completely unfair. And now the other stepbrother that lives there will have an 18month old and a new born in his house which he never signed up for. Tom and Sarah have just gotten pregnant and not thought about anyone else or how this effects anyone else. My boyfriend and I have worked long, hard hours to save for our dream and yet we’re here watching it unfold for someone else whilst we deal with the heart ache of getting so close and losing it. I work in disability which is extremely mentally draining and my boyfriend is a diesel mechanic which is physical and hard. Sarah doesn’t work, yes she takes care of her child yet they’re living in filth and she manages to palm him off most of the time anyway. Tom is a casual at his work and spends most of his pay check on weed and smokes every night. Yet, the entire family thinks they are so incredible and wow! They’re having a baby! I feel so cheated, I feel like it should be us, and I know that’s so incredibly selfish but we couldn’t have planned this more if we tried yet they simply didn’t use protection and get to live out our dream.
I’m wondering how on earth I am going to manage to get through this damn baby shower and I would love to know peoples thoughts on this, but please, be kind 😭

I will preface this by saying that I technically consider myself non-binary but am a very femme presenting AMAB person, as such I often get viewed by others as a transwoman in the way they perceive me and interact with me, and I thought I would share these experiences here as I feel it's something that I've found my trans friends particularly relate to.
So, I've been really dealing with a lot of frustration lately when it comes to trying to date and found compatible partners. In the past when I identified as cis, I primarily had relationships and intimate experiences with women. As I've started to explore my sexuality and gender expression more, I've opened myself up more to the idea of being with men and masc-presenting people. I still don't have a lot of outward attractions to these types, honestly. So, I continue to tread lightly, but there are some aspects to masculine expression that I appreciate.
However, I've found interactions with men to be incredibly frustrating and disheartening. A large percentage of the men that reach out to me on online dating platforms very obviously only view me a sexual object. I don't even feel comfortable engaging sexually with a person of any gender until I know them and feel safe with them and yet men think it's ok to instantly proposition me sexually just based on how I look. Often times, these men are obviously doing it from a place of some secret sexual fantasy too as they will often not on dating websites not even have pictures of themselves or purposely hide their face. It doesn't make me feel all that great about myself to be viewed as someone's secret shame fuck.
Interactions in the real world can sometimes be slightly better, but also run the added risk of being inappropriately touched or just made to feel unsafe and uncomfortable in general. Also many of these men who do hit on me are often much older and/or generally gross and unattractive. I'm not going to say I'm the hottest person ever, but I think I have really good style and know how to make myself look good and get lots of compliments to reinforce this. So it especially makes me feel objectified when men like this hit on me, because it seems like they're viewing me as easy or more desperate because of my gender identity.
I realize this is something that cis women have to deal with all the time as well, but it feels particularly amplified being a femme presenting AMAB person. I don't deal with this so much with other femme and andro people, but I find it harder to attract these types with my presentation. I've even had other queer people assume I was exclusively into men simply because I present femme and men often seem to operate under the assumption that I present the way I do just to attract male attention, which is definitely not the case at all.
Anyway, just sharing in hopes others have had similar experiences or advice on how to navigate this. It's starting to become disheartening to try and date as my authentic self when it feels like others often don't treat me as a person but instead just an object for their desires.

Important: I'm not asking for relationship advice, though I totally welcome input from anyone if they choose to offer it. I'm well aware that this particular issue is above reddit's paygrade lol. I'm asking the question in the title and adding this for context. And yeah, venting.
I've been vegan for a while now. Years. I tried. I really tried. Supplementing with every possible deficiency vitamin, gorging out on mock meats to satiate my cravings, I spent a few minutes a day looking at pictures of disgusting parasite infested meat to condition myself to be disgusted by it, watched Dominion (about the realities of factory farming), and the cravings never went away, and I just kept getting more and more frail.
So recently I gave up. I started sneaking meat by eating it only when going out with my friends or alone during weekday lunch breaks, but it'd be a lot cheaper to cook it at home, plus I want to choose more humane options than restaurants have on offer.
So, I'm married to a sp1 (balanced wings) who's a militant vegan. Needless to say, when I told him I'm going to eat meat again (but that I'd cook it in separate cookware when he's out the house, keep any meat quarantined and sealed, eat it only outside on the deck, and throw any scraps away in the dumpster immediately after)...he didn't handle it well.
He got hysterical, called me an "aspiring murderer", threatened to take up smoking since apparently I want to "harm myself", and then he ended up sobbing on the floor curled up in a ball crying that I'm ruining his hope of anyone in the world being good.
Before he went into crying mode, I tried to explain to him my side of things, and he then brought up an absurd analogy ("if you were a vampire who liked the taste of blood and it made you feel better, would you bite people's necks and devour them?")
At this point, I guess I'll just stick to eating meat only outside the house when he doesn't know. For my own sanity, since right now there's no reasoning with him on this.
It sucks. I had my own reasons I wanted to be vegan, but I just can't. Eating meat twice a week, I feel much better.
But now my 1 is shaken up by my "murder lust" (his words), and it scares me a little how much of a pedestal he puts me on. He thinks of me as this pure soul, an angel who is his beacon of hope, no matter how many times I told him not to idealize another person like that.
Even now, I asked him if he now knows I'm "bad"/animalistic/hedonistic as he says all other people are, and he insists I'm not. He blames the world for making bad things so tempting.
A few things to note: other than this, our marriage is almost freakishly happy and perfect. So, I have no intention to divorce him over this (I have to say this cuz this tends to be suggested by redditors over every little thing lol). And he's in therapy, but he thinks the therapist is "just another evil soul", so it's not really going well. He's been through multiple therapists with that same issue. Also, neither of us were vegan when we met, so it's not like our marriage is predicated on that. I was actually vegan first for my own reasons, to reduce suffering, and my husband was inspired to go vegan shortly after I did.
Tl/dr: I'm a messy selfish animal and my 1 puts me on a pedestal I really have no place on. I can't live up to who he thinks I am. Is this a common issue 1s and their loved ones have?

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/IcemanEx54
GM Locked Me Out Of Interacting With Other Players Because I Got Confused
Originally posted to rpghorrorstories
TRIGGER WARNING: manipulation, controlling behavior, sexism
Original Post March 6, 2024
I'm a player in a tabletop RPG campaign and I just wanted to vent about this session. The GM uses a "rules light" homebrew system and it's his homebrew world as well. He's been doing this campaign for years now, but I just joined through a mutual friend after another player left recently.
When I joined the campaign, the GM had told me he wanted me to be from a particular country as a prince, and since it was his homebrewed world, I went with it. The country I'm a prince of is a massive empire that has conquered many lands. I wanted to be a morally good character so I made up a backstory where my prince had a secret romance with a commoner so it gave me more empathy and understanding than my other royal peers would have. Then in session 1, he had the commoner immediately break up with me since the players were all leaving the city session 1.
Several sessions later, there is a carnival being hosted in the empire and all the players are attending. The players split up and my part began with my character watching as a mentally handicap child was put in the dunk tank and was being dunked against his will. So I had my character help the child and stop the game (This isn't relevant to the larger story but I thought it was really weird). Then I am told I have to go to the "main stage" which is just a strip club seemingly. And of course, walking around topless serving drinks is my character's commoner love interest that I made in session 0. The GM laughs a bit and comments, "Isn't it funny? Look at what your ex has to do without you." I have my character give her the shirt off his back and we go to the outskirts of the carnival to find a quiet place to talk, but then the carnival was ambushed by some enemies as arrows and fire rained down on the parade.
Suddenly, my character and his ex are teleported back to the main stage and the GM starts jumping back and forth between all the player characters asking what we want to do without any sort of initiative and if we don't respond quickly enough he skips to another player. I ask, "What direction are the arrows coming from?" GM, "You can't tell". "Which direction to the palace?" I ask. "You don't know," he tells me. I'm honestly genuinely confused about what to do here and my mind goes blank, but then the GM has my bodyguard (a Brienne of Tarth type) tell me to follow her so I do. As he cuts back and forth, another player loses his mom in the chaos, I tell GM, "I want to help him find his mom." "You can't see him" GM tells me. Then I ended up surrounded by 12 ambushers in the "Pleasure Gardens". GM asked what I would do. I say since the carnival is burning, I look for a piece of wood on fire and since it's the pleasure gardens maybe there's some oil I can spill and light on fire to separate myself, my bodyguard, and ex who are all with me from the ambushers. He tells me there's no oil and then I'm held down by the men. I tried to escape, but he says I failed (he just did a dice roll behind his screen and didn't tell me the results). I am then hogtied by the ambushers with my bodyguard and ex and thrown in a cart. Meanwhile, the other two players have stolen a cart and are escaping. I try to do a goofy wave as my character is tied up towards my companions and he just says, the carts never pass each other so the other players don't see you. Before the session ends he tells me my bodyguard is dead.
After the session, I think my body language showed I was a bit bummed. So GM pipes in, "You want to know why you failed that encounter?" He proceeded to tell me it was because I followed my bodyguard and there was no way a woman could have protected me and I needed to make the choice instead. Some of the other players chimed in and said it was surprising my bodyguard failed since in the lore she was a 20-year veteran who survived "The Great War". The GM keeps defending his choice. Then he started making self-deprecating jokes about how he just sucks then and he's the worst GM ever until the other players all reassure him it's fine. I kind of just sat there shell-shocked.
His system reduces dice rolls to a rarity and he does them all himself as a "way to keep tension". I'm honestly more about hanging out with my friends than judging the quality of any campaign or system but this was my first "combat" of any sort in the campaign and I just felt so helpless in this system and it was frustrating. Plus there are no insight or persuasion rolls, just what the GM claims "my character would know" and "how his NPCs would act". So I'm not sure how I was supposed to handle this encounter. Being a GM myself, I thought he was using my bodyguard character to get me back on track, but I thought wrong. I honestly wouldn't have minded if he was just railroading me for a plot point, but him trying to manipulate me and saying his hands were tied when he essentially locked me out of interacting with the other players for the rest of the session is what bothers me the most.
Edit: Changed gaslighting to manipulating since I was using the term wrong and don't want to dilute it's meaning.
Update: GM Defends Style And Told Me He Owns My Character March 20, 2024
This is an update from my post a couple of weeks ago.
One of my friends in the group reached out to me and asked me to not leave the group. He told me there were only 2 sessions left and asked me to stick around as a favor to him. I told him I'd reach out to GM and see if we could get on the same page. So I texted the GM and told him I wanted to talk because I had some concerns after the way everything went down last session. He was down and we talked on the phone a couple of days later. To my surprise, the first thing he did was profusely apologize. I hadn't been responding in our group chat, partly because I was mad and partly because my partner had a death in her family. I guess me not responding caused him to dwell on the last session a bunch. He said he was going to retcon my bodyguard's death and keep her alive. I even told him that the treatment of women in the campaign was bad and that it was making the story worse, he told me that it is something that he can work on being better about too. I was surprised, but all this gave me a lot of optimism for this conversation.
I was honest and I told him that his homebrew system is very difficult for me since I don't have a character sheet. So my character doesn't have abilities, he doesn't level up, and I can't do things like roll investigate or perception rolls which makes it hard for me to make informed decisions. I told him it makes me very risk adverse because I don't have things like HP to even know if I'm in danger. He responded to this by telling me I shouldn't worry about that because his GM style rewards me if I roleplay well enough. He went on to say he hates systems with things like perception rolls because that's "Not how real life works".
I also lamented the fact that I also don't get to interact with the other players much. I didn't mention this in my first post, but he plays with all of us in a Discord call but he only plays with us one at a time, and the two of us who aren't playing are expected to listen and record notable quotes for his notes. He'll switch between characters where each player gets 2-3 "scenes" in a 3 hour session. He has our characters all spread out across the country Game of Thrones style and I've only gotten to play with another player in 2 sessions so far. This was also why that carnival scene was so frustrating because all 3 players were finally in the same place and we were trying to find each other and he just kept saying, "You don't see them".
He told me that he doesn't do party-based adventures because you can't get character growth that way. I pushed back and said I've seen awesome character growth in traditional DnD style games in the past, it just depends on the group. I also said he's just making things harder for himself by trying to run three campaigns instead of one. And if we don't have character sheets and aren't in a party then this is all more dramatic improv than a tabletop RPG.
He responded by saying his way is better because it creates a real story and that I should be happy because he made me the main character. (I guess that is what me being the prince means?) He then went on a rant about how much he loves the game world he created and he's very grateful that our characters brought it to life. But then he says that since it's his world, he feels like he owns our characters now and that after the campaign he wants us all to sign off on him using the characters to write books and a screenplay. And if we don't he'll just change their names and do it anyway. He then thanks me and tells me that this campaign is the main thing that has been stopping him from self-harm and going to dark places. Then he says he has to go and he rushes to hang up before I can say anything else.
I'm dumbfounded after that rapid-fire series of bombshells. I've known since the first few sessions that this was barely a TTRPG, but I got to hang out with my friends so I didn't care what it was. It was nice to hang out with old friends a couple times each month. Then the story got weird, and there was so much misogyny, and then I had the horrible session that caused my original post. Then in this conversation, he throws up even more red flags that I'm not blind to, but he is also planting a seed that he may harm himself without the campaign which is not something I want on my conscience. I'm just exhausted at this point.
TLDR: GM says that abilities and parties make TTRPGs worse and he wants to use our characters to write books/movies after the campaign because he owns them since we're playing in his world. He says he may fall back to self-harm without the campaign, making me feel guilty for wanting to leave.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
ShitThroughAGoose

Any update to this?

OOP

I ended up doing one more session for the finale. There was some drama during that session and when I mentioned that I didn't want to play in the next season of the campaign. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post about it again. I might still, but I think I want to take some time and reflect on everything.

Final Update May 11, 2024
[Final Update] Moving On From My Toxic DM And Losing A Friend In The Process
This will hopefully be my last post on this sub for a long time, but I’ve been using this place to vent about my toxic situation for a while so I figured I might as well post how everything concluded and what happened when I left. I’m going to reflect on everything and recap the important parts so no one has to read 3 posts.
It all started when I decided to start DMing to keep in touch with some college friends after graduation. During my first campaign, one of the players, Pirate, asked if his friend, Colorado, could join. I didn't really know Colorado, but I figured, "the more, the merrier."
Colorado had some issues early on, giving unsolicited advice to everyone on how to play and viewing newer or shy players as “side characters”. However, he frequently missed sessions, only showing up for less than half of them for the first few years so nothing came to a head early on. Then, Colorado decided he wanted to bring back his tabletop campaign from his college days and started trying to recruit players after my sessions. Pirate suggested I join the campaign, promising that Colorado was a better DM than player. Since I had been the Forever DM up to that point, I agreed to give it a go.
I created a character who was part of the royal family but enjoyed interacting with commoners in the slums, even having a secret girlfriend from that background. After that, Colorado also started hitting me up to help with the campaign. I ended up photoshopping character art for a bunch of his NPCs and I even drew his world map for him. I didn't mind doing it, as I do that kind of stuff for fun.
For our first session, Colorado had already created character sheets for us based on our backstories, but only he could see them. Colorado would also roll all the dice himself so “all we had to focus on is roleplaying”. We played one on one in different "scenes" that could last around 30 minutes to an hour each. We usually had around 2 to 4 scenes per session, depending on what Colorado thought was important. During the game, Colorado asked us to write down quotes from him and the other players when it wasn't our turn.
I had to wait for well over an hour before I could finally play. My first session was on rails. I mostly just had to repeat after Colorado during a ceremony. Afterwards, I got to sneak out of the castle and meet with my commoner girlfriend, but Colorado immediately had her break up with me. Then I was told that I had to leave the city. I was essentially locked out of my hanging out in the slums and commoner girlfriend subplots. NPCs generally disliked my morally good character, especially my sister who was depicted as purely evil towards me. Despite my efforts to mend the relationship, she never changed her mind and Colorado never rolled any dice to determine that. Later Colorado revealed to me the character was based on his ex-girlfriend, who was originally intended to be the player character from my country before they broke up.
Eventually, I finally got to interact with another player, Soldier, who I had really good chemistry with and we had a really fun scene. Which Colorado exclaimed, “See! This is why I keep you apart. It makes these moments so much more epic!” But I’m just thinking that if we were in a party, every session could be this epic.
Then Colorado got busy. He went to some alternative medicine nature retreat and didn’t pay his rent the whole time he was gone so he got evicted. At that point, the campaign went on hiatus as people got busy and Colorado was couch hopping. It was during that time I considered the campaign over and made my first post because I thought it fit the sub. Then a year after the last session, Colorado started trying to organize the group to do 3 more sessions to finish the campaign. I just ghosted the group chat for a while, but Pirate’s roommate is a player in the campaign I DM so Pirate started hopping on the call asking me to come back for the finale. Pirate told me that it would be different this time because all of our characters were going to meet up for the finale and he really wanted to play with me. I naively agreed to give the game a second chance.
The first of those three sessions led to this post and this follow up.
[TLDR - I never got to meet up with the other characters. Colorado made my ex a stripper and I was captured by invaders with no dice rolls to prevent it. I had a conversation with him about my concerns after the last session. He apologized and agreed to make changes saying he needed the campaign for his mental health.]
Colorado decided to have a single super finale session, which I reluctantly attended because of sunk cost fallacy. I was imprisoned, beaten and whipped, separated from my girlfriend and recently resurrected bodyguard. A deus-ex ninja offered to help me escape, but I wanted to save all the prisoners. So I helped the commoners escape with the ninja before saving my girlfriend. My bodyguard got captured, but I made sure my girlfriend escaped and then I went to save my bodyguard because I wasn’t letting her die after she just got resurrected. I tried to find my bodyguard but every door was locked and I was forced into a long one on one fight with a guard that would make John Carpenter blush. I lost the fight due to an unknown -2 modifier on my fighting rolls, leading to my re-imprisonment.
Pirate tried to board a boat to reach my location, but was unsuccessful. Colorado informed him that the sailors refused to let him on the ship because they didn't like his tone. Fortunately, Soldier saved me and we agreed to stop the big bad and rescue my bodyguard together. With a squad of Soldier's peers, we pursued the big bad into the woods. Without any rolls, all the other soldiers were sniped by archers.
Finally, the two of us reached the clearing where the big bad and his followers were. We were outnumbered about 30-2. My bodyguard and the other commoners were tied to a tree. Soldier was the same race as the villain so he approached while I stayed hidden. He delivered an awesome passionate speech against the big bad's actions saying that it wasn’t what their ancestors would want. I’m sitting there waiting and hoping for a persuasion roll… and nothing. Colorado says the big bad doesn’t change his mind and he sets the tree on fire, causing my bodyguard and the commoners to burn to death. Soldier and I retreated into the woods to end the campaign.
Pirate was supposed to have a scene after us, but he fell asleep because it was past 1am. Colorado kept trying to call Pirate on the phone. I joke, “Hey, we’re old now, being up past midnight isn’t as easy as it used to.” To which Colorado replies, “I just thought Pirate had more respect for me than this.” The Discord call becomes quiet and after Colorado starts focusing on Soldier and I. He wants to know why we’re not discussing the ending more. I remarked that it was a bit of a downer and I’m tired. Then Colorado starts spiraling, saying that RPGs are just another medium that he failed at just like film and music. HE STARTS CRYING and hangs up from the Discord call. Soldier and I stayed on and had a short “That was awkward” conversation. I don’t know Soldier well so I didn’t say much about my grievances with the campaign and eventually we ended up just talking about Baldur’s Gate 3 for an hour.
The next day, I wake up to a barrage of texts from Colorado apologizing, mansplaining how hard it is to be a DM as if I’ve never done it myself. He then starts sending me messages with all his ideas for my character in the next season and how he promises I’ll have more freedom next time. I wouldn’t understand, but he NEEDED to do the prison sequence and my bodyguard to die for my character growth, but next season will be different. I tell him I’m not doing another season. Colorado replies saying that he thought I’d say that because Pirate (who was apparently not sleeping) told him Soldier and I were bitching about the campaign after the session. Colorado said that once I get over it, we can start talking about season 3. I reaffirmed my stance. Then Colorado texts me one last time and asks if I’ll still make his maps and character art even if I don’t play. I said no again.
It's been two months since I last heard from Colorado or Pirate. We used to play games and talk about pro wrestling all the time, but now there's been no contact. A lot of the comments on my posts helped me realize I was prioritizing Colorado’s mental health over my own and I felt like it was my responsibility to support his campaign because he constantly referenced how important it was to his mental health. Intentional or not, he preyed upon my empathy. I’m not his Giving Tree and I shouldn’t be left a stump for a campaign where he doesn’t even want us to affect the world.
I sometimes worry Pirate is going through a similar situation to me, but for a longer period of time. Pirate introduced me to Colorado, and he's really loyal to him. I think that slowed down my exit from the group because I trusted Pirate to be my friend as well. I remember opening up to Pirate about a panic attack I had while Colorado was spiraling one day, and he just shrugged it off as me being dramatic. It's frustrating. I want both of them to be happy, but I can't make that happen for them, especially if it comes at the expense of my own well-being.
I ended up venting to some of my irl friends and they really supported and listened to me which is why I didn’t feel a need to vent here. I learned a lot about what not to do when DMing from this campaign and it made me reevaluate my approach to playing RPGs. Now I'm in a group with my irl friends and it's a blast. I can relax and just have fun playing again.
TLDR - I started DMing to stay connected with college friends who were scattered across the country. One player, Pirate, introduced me to Colorado, who eventually took over as the DM. Colorado had some unconventional methods, such as not using character sheets and controlling all the dice rolls. The game became focused on his storyline and my character had limited agency. Despite this, I gave the campaign a second chance. In the final session, things went poorly, and Colorado had a breakdown. Despite his apologies and promises for the next season, I decided not to continue playing. I have not heard from Colorado or Pirate since. I now play with my real-life friends and it's much more enjoyable.
RELEVANT COMMENTS/ADDED INFO
TicketPrestigious

Glad you're doing better. That does sound like quite a toxic situation.
If I've understood it right, the stuff with Pirate 'falling asleep' but actually listening in to you and Soldier talking feels like a massive red flag to me. I understand worrying about him since you were/felt like you were friends, but if he's enabling Colorado with that sort of stuff then it's probably best to move on.

OOP

Yeah even the best case would be that Pirate woke up after Colorado left the call and just overheard Soldier and me talking without us realizing because his mic was muted and we assumed he had passed out and then he snitched after which is still a bad look tbh. I had been distancing myself from Pirate since he invalidated my panic attack prior to this. It's just hard to be vulnerable with someone again after that.

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

Hi I have been thinking of this for quite some time but haven't completely settled on an answer.
So, if y​ou could ​choose any of the songs from the TTPD album, or any of the upcoming Rep or Debut album remakes, and choose the video theme for it and choose the actor(s) and actress(es) for it, what would be your choices? Also I have thought about what if you could make a live action series based on any one album or two, what would that be like?
For the live action series, ever since they were released in 2020 I have wanted Folklore and Evermore to be a sort of 1940s-1950s small town with recurring characters who all interact in episodes based on the songs. At the center would be a sort of mysterious witch of unknown age (neither young or old) who is kind of an observeparticipant to varying degrees. I picture the first episode starting with a protagonist (solo or man/wife/young family) driving and the highway gets foggy and dangerous about dusk ​and they pull off at a town sign called Woodvale, and see the witch off the road, maybe on a lake beside the road as they drive by, and she is lowering a wrapped bundle into the water.....and thus NBNC starts their mysterious stay in a town they can't leave.
Does anyone else have any ideas like this?
I have also thought an animated series written around one or more of her albums would be awesome.