Looks like my time at LameStop will come to an end. Despite my efforts to keep my performance good and work on it I may get the axe depending on how this well goes. Was hoping to move to a different location (which I perform better at) but who knows if that'll happen. Luckily my manager will help me with that should that happen but if it doesn't I'm looking at my first corrective. If I get that I'm just breaking ties with LameStop. I'm lucky to have a great support system with my family to fall back on and IT school. Just sucks because I love my coworkers. Alas this company doesn't care. It's bittersweet I suppose. Time to get my I quit T-shirt, just in case.

i leave school on friday and we get to make our own leavers shirt i want to make mine lowkey a radiohead reference but i’m not sure how i should go about it, any ideas?

The bright yellow terror

‘’Every now and then I would stare at the murky brown water below and see several small glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface in rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Bright deadly yellow. The rotting sweet stench of death still lodged in my nostrils.’’
I had happened upon these diary pages by mistake when I was digging through old boxes in my basement. My wife had insisted, finally, that I sort out and get rid of everything I didn’t need. Now here I was, confronted with a part of my past I had tried to suppress unsuccessfully for so many years. 24 years to be exact. 24 odd years of trying to understand what exactly happened in those days when I was trapped on a rooftop in Phuket during a deadly and disastrous natural catastrophe.
24 odd years of having to dodge around questions of my abject and unwavering fear of the ocean. Well, in truth, I guess being caught in a large tsunami and witnessing immense destructive forces of nature coming directly from the great wide ocean would be a fair excuse, but it was only half the truth. It wasn’t just the waves themselves that had terrified me.
Until now, I thought the water damaged remains of the diary I kept back then was lost. I even hoped it was. I never shared this story with anyone. Partly because the horror was too fresh in my memory back then and I wanted to focus on moving on with my life and by the time I felt my mind was stabilized I had no real interest in returning to that dark part of my past. Partly because the right words always escaped me.
Mostly because I was afraid people would think I was insane. I can no longer contain this, however. I need an outlet. I spend years running from it. But I guess I can’t lie to myself anymore. Someone once told me that writing can be therapeutic. Simply putting your thoughts down on paper, or in our times, more likely in word document, can help you compartmentalize trauma. So, I’m giving it a try. I can’t pretend the events of those days in Phuket didn’t cast a shadow over everything in my life that came after.
I often think of the beach days I missed with my son when he was a boy. Days where I should’ve done dad stuff. Thrown him into the ocean. Watched him laugh his little face of as he braved the waves. Helped him build sandcastles. Gone exploring along the sandy shores in search of beached treasure in the form little rocks and the odd piece of amber. I just couldn’t. Initially I had objected to the idea of him going at all. Naturally, my wife would hear none of that and I realized reluctantly, that my fear and trauma should not rule my son’s life. Instead, my wife would go, and I would always stay home. She understood, to some degree, what I had gone through and where my fear came from.
Only to some degree. My son did not, and I fear he resented my absence on those perfect sunny days, despite my efforts to make up for it with other activities. Both he and my wife certainly noticed how closed off I was about certain parts of my past. Secrets untold, especially those who are grounded in trauma, almost inevitably turns to toxic in our systems. I’m finally ready. I just hope it isn’t too late.
I won’t lie. I’ve always had a vivid imagination although I have never had trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is not. At least until my sense of reality was forever challenged. I know these things happened to me. I know what I saw and what I experienced was real. I just don’t have a truly rational explanation for it. Yet, I swear, there was something in the water that came with that tsunami. Something deeply, deeply unnatural. Something brightly and oddly yellow. I had no other word for it than the bright yellow terror.
I had travelled to Thailand, more precisely Bangkok late December 2000. 19 years old about to turn 20. I was on one of those infamous and increasingly popular self-discovery trips. I had caught the fever. Like so many other young hopeful adventurers at the time I had seen The Beach. I had read into the wild by Jon Krakauer.
I watched Dicaprio walk the sandy shores of paradise and read on in excitement and awe as Christopher McCandles set out to become one with nature and discover himself. Kill the false being within and all that. In simple terms, I thought I’d try and find my own slice of heaven on earth. Expand my horizon. Get to know some new people. Learn something about myself in the process perhaps. I wasn’t exactly fleeing from anything, that wasn’t it. I had a loving although cuddling and overprotective family. Especially my mom would worry about me constantly (and still does).
Yes, I admit it. My parents had paved the way for me at almost every step. Made sure I got into the right schools. Made sure I never needed for money. I guess I got tired of feeling dependent on them. I stopped taking their money and saved up for the trip myself. It was time I stepped up. It was time I threw myself into the world to see what would happen. Hell of a time and place I picked for that.
The following story is based on the surviving pages of the diary I kept during the time and my own memory.
Bangkok 23rd December 2000. 4 days before the tsunami.
‘’My first day in Bangkok. Quite overwhelming but in a nice way. No one here to save me. No one here to tell me what to do. Thailand is hot and humid and there’s something in the air. I think it’s adventure. I think it’s limitless opportunity. I met a monkey in a diaper and got thoroughly beaten and lost 100 bath in a game of connect four by some 10-year-old kid. Got scammed as well though, I will have to wise up and learn the ropes. Avoid the yellow taxis. Go for the Tuk Tuks. Well, lesson learned. I met a guy who told me all kinds of terrifying things about Australia. Robert. I’m meeting him in Phuket a couple of days from now.’’
You could probably imagine the excitement bubbling within me. For the first time on my own. 19 years old. Prime of my life. In a strangely new and exotic city. Possibilities seemed endless. I still remember vividly driving off with the wind in my hair in a tuk-tuk as Bangkok unfolded before me with all its oriental mysticism and surrounding cityscapes. To be fair, I had never even seen an honest to god palm tree before as they simply couldn’t grow in the northern climate I was from.
I got myself stationed in a decent guesthouse around Khaosan Road. Everywhere I looked it seems others had gotten the same idea as me. Backpackers littered the streets and in a strange way, I felt at home amidst this quiet chaos, amidst the crowds of hopefully likeminded explorers, far, far away from home. The humidity was hitting me though, it was something I would have to get used to. It felt like a wet hot invisible blanket. Khaosan Road was perfect for me. A meeting place for young backpackers, with tons of opportunities to plan further travels. I did after all, not plan on staying in Bangkok for too long. It was just a stepping point to other adventures.
It was still early, and the humidity was clammy as hell. I was in the mood to socialize and with no real plans I simply ventured out into the streets of Bangkok, circling around the area where my guesthouse was located. It wasn’t long before the first opportunity presented itself in the form of a taxi driver calling me over. He offered to take me on a tour of the city. Foolish and naïve as I was, I indulged him. I remember how the cab driver lit up a doobie, joint, spliff, devil’s lettuce whatever you want to call it.
You know it as soon as you breathe in the air. Don’t get me wrong, I smoked myself, but letting a clearly high person drive me around the busy Bangkok traffic did not seem like a good idea. I should probably have asked to be let out that very moment, but as the kind of timid, shy type of person I was plus the desire to just go along with whatever happened come what may made me stay. Unsurprisingly I was eventually led to a store, fitted for a suit a didn’t want, and then subsequently charged an obscene amount for the cab ride. I didn’t have the courage to refuse his unreasonable demand. Noteworthy mention. That same night I heard from a fellow traveler that just recently someone had been stabbed in an argument with a cab driver. I didn’t let it get me down or drive me off course, because as you’ve probably gathered by now, I didn’t have a course.
As day turned to night and when the sun’s rays slowly disappeared behind the rooftops of Bangkok, the city itself began to transform. As if a part of it which had laid dormant, hidden away from the light, started to emerge.
Neon lights advertising different bars, people making all kinds of promises of untold pleasures and sensations. Tourists ready to party. All now filled the streets. Some seemed all too aware of what they were looking for, others simply drifted around aimlessly, in search of something unknown, something to spice up their existence. I found a small seemingly cool place called The Hangover. I swear to god, I wish to this day I hadn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t have set my course for Phuket. In any case, I went in and pushed myself through the crowds of rowdy and loud tourists and up the bar where I ordered a Pina Colada. Please don’t judge me. I just really like coconuts and the song is pretty good as well. Standing at the crowded bar and looking around, hoping something interesting would catch my eye. But most of all, I was hoping someone would just take the first step and come talk to me.
Someone did. His name was Robert, and he was from Australia. A tall skinny and no-nonsense older guy who seemed quite experienced with all things Thailand. He eventually invited me down to his group of friends at the far back end of the bar. Robert spared no time telling me about himself. He had worked all kinds of jobs, in all kinds of places. Most recently he had worked as a guide in Phuket. Among other things he had arranged rock climbing expeditions. I probably forgot to mention, I was big into rock climbing and generally all kinds of outdoor activities back then.
I already had quite the climbing experience despite my young age. As Robert talked about all the places he’d been, he made me feel like the novice I was. That was never his intention though, as I quickly learned. He wasn’t a bragger. He just knew what he was talking about and when he laughed, he did it with his entire face and in a way that made you laugh with him and feel comfortable.
Eventually the conversation naturally gravitated towards Australia. A place I had always wanted to visit. He looked at me for a second, as if to contemplate something. Then told me to watch out for locals trying to play pranks on me. I was naturally interested in hearing more and that’s when he told me about drop bears. Supposedly drop bears are carnivorous versions of Koalas residing in trees to then drop down on unsuspecting victims and viciously attack them. We laughed quite a lot, and I admitted I would probably have believed the stories as I was a fairly naive person and the idea of hostile subspecies of koalas didn’t seem that farfetched to me. It would be typical of past me to get punked around like that. Our conversation then shifted towards Australian wildlife and fauna and the horrors residing within its diverse and complicated eco system. He told me about a plant not uncommonly referred to as the suicide plant. Dendrocnide moroides or more commonly known as stinging tree, stinging bush or gympie gympie apparently has such a nasty and painful sting it made a man commit suicide simply to escape the pain. Another dangerous inhabitant was the box jellyfish he explained.
Their sting was about as deadly as it gets. A single sting to a human will cause necrosis of the skin, excruciating pain and, if the dose of venom is large enough, cardiac arrest and death within minutes. I have always found jellyfish equal parts fascinating and equal parts frightening. Beautiful but deadly creatures. In fact, the ocean, in all its grand wide-reaching glory had always horrified me to some extent. So much unexplored space. Who truly knows what could be lurking down there? Robert quickly assured me, that as long as you take your precaution the likelihood of getting stung by a box jellyfish was rather small. They had signs up warning people against them. Generally, do not ignore these signs. They are there for a good reason.
It was getting late and before we said our goodbyes Robert suggested I meet him in Phuket, more precisely in the Khao Lak area on the 28^th as that was the first day he would be able to. I thought why not? He seemed genuinely nice and knowledgeable. Just good company all around and he promised to show me the greatest climbing spots a bit away from the crowded tours. It was a start.
I would never meet Robert again. I don’t know what happened to him. Thinking back on those days leading up to the point the waves came crashing down always gives me an uneasy, sad, and melancholic feeling. The people I met in Bangkok talking about going south. Those I met in Phuket before it happened. I have no idea if they ended up as corpses floating through the murky brown waters or god forbid, victims of that unholy terror from the deep. I hope Robert wasn’t among those unfortunate souls who died or went… ‘’Missing’’. Although if I must pick one or the other. I would hope he died quickly.
Bangkok 24^th of December 2000. 3 days before the tsunami.
I woke up with a slight hangover. Christmas is commonly celebrated on this date in my country, so I was expecting some calls to go through on my brick sized Nokia at some point once all the good folks back home woke up. They were about 5 hours behind me and at 9 AM Bangkok time they would still be sleeping. I used the time to do some shopping before my trip to Phuket. I got plenty of rope, a couple of snap hooks and a harness. I knew they’d have all of this on the guided tours, but I liked to find my own spots to climb, and I had good sense and knowledge enough to not attempt anything too daring. By the way. For those uninitiated, snap hooks are used to make a quick, reversible connection on a system of ropes, or to connect a rope or cord to another component, like a lanyard medallion or barrier post. Essential if you want to go climbing. If you’ve ever gone ziplining it’s the thing that connects you safely to the zipline and lets you slight across.
After having done my shopping, I bought a bus ticket to Phuket intending on leaving that same night and went back to my hotel room. As exciting as Bangkok was, I felt it was more for people intend on partying and in all honesty, a bit too crowded for me. I was excited to move on and I could always come back if I wanted to. On my way into the reception area, I was stopped by a young hip looking dude looking for a cigarette. Now I don’t necessarily consider myself a perfect judge of character, but he had an easy-going way about him that immediately drew me in. Sometimes, you can just tell.
He had sort of a rugged look about him. Dirty blond half-long hair. His face I would best describe as boyish but something in his eyes betrayed him and revealed his age to be older than you would assume. His style was… Boheme I guess I would describe it as. Like something taken out of the 70s LA scene. I’m not a smoker. Never was. So, I couldn’t help him on that front. It didn’t matter he would find someone else he said. For a while we just casually talked. Apparently, he had come to Bangkok just a few days prior and seemed about as lost and without direction as I had been before deciding on taking my chances in Phuket. Alex was his name, and he would later save my life and help me understand what it means to forge a quick and unbreakable connection through shared trauma, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and get a beer. I thought why not? He was about my age and on his own as well. I told him I had to go make some calls and I’d be out in about an hour. Back the hotel room I quickly gathered all my stuff and packed it up, so it was ready to go. My climbing gear took up the most space. I figured if things went well with Alex, I might be able to persuade him in joining me at some point in Phuket. Even though I had set out for this trip to be about discovering myself and being on my own, I longed for some kind of company. Don’t we all? I called my parents up and we wished each other a happy Christmas. It was odd to think they were somewhere nearly half-way across the world celebrating Christmas while snow draped the landscapes there. Here I was, In hot and humid paradise. No, I did not miss the cold or the snow, but I did miss not being there to celebrate the holidays with my family. But it had been my choice to go during the holiday season and I did not regret it. I had saved up enough money and there was no point in waiting anymore. There would be many other holidays to celebrate in the future.
My 5-year-old nephew somehow got a hold of the phone. Not quite the conversationalist yet, it still felt good to hear his voice. Hearing his excitement over the prospect of celebrating Christmas brought me back to my own childhood. Decorating the Christmas tree, watching holiday cartoons and of course, opening presents. I finished my calls and went out to see if Alex was ready. He was already waiting for me and had apparently managed to score some cigarettes in the meantime. He had changed his outfit as well. Now wearing a faded black doors t-shirt. We talked a bit about Jim Morrison and the doors as we headed off down streets. We passed a myriad of small stands selling everything from electronics to colorful t-shirts and small bracelets with campy misspelled English catchphrases. We dodged the many intrusive offers and eventually found a small comfy looking bar with seats outside shaded by palm trees. We ordered a couple of beers and the conversation started flowing along quite nicely. Alex was 25 and from London It turned out. We also had a common interest in music. For a while he had busked as a street musician while working odd jobs here and there and had eventually decided to travel the world.
His first stop had been India where for a while he had lived on the rooftop of some abandoned building while attempting to learn the art of playing the sitar. I thought about that for a second. Living it rough on some rooftop in India. I don’t know why that idea intrigued me so much. Seemed like freedom to me, I guess. Sleeping under the wide-open skies. Looking down on the streets and watching people go about their lives. I guess I just liked the idea of doing something that seemed different from what I had ever done before. Living on a rooftop, if even just for a while, was definitely not something I had done before. There was the view as well, Alex reminded me. And it was free of course. We drifted off into long conversations about music I won’t bore you too much with, only to let you know we shared a passion for old school music like the doors and Jimi Hendrix as well as 90s shoegaze music like My Bloody Valentine, Ride and Slowdive. I had Slowdive’s Shine playing in my mind that day. All felt so dreamy at the time.
I eventually told Alex of my plans to go to Phuket and he was onboard almost immediately. I loved how easy it was here on the road. There was no ‘’well maybe’’, or ‘’let’s think about it.’’ In fact, Alex had been to Phuket before and knew of a place we could stay for free. Another rooftop of course, but he had already sold me on the idea. From there, we could plan our next step he said. ‘’our next step’’ I don’t remember vibing with someone that quickly before or since, but then I guess making friends is always easier when you’re young and easy going. I always seemed to attract good company without much effort back then. I chalk it down to my friendly and slightly shy demeanor. Seems it only becomes harder to make friends as the years pass though. At least for me it did.
We got a bus ticket for Alex and shopped a bit more. I got some first aid supplies. Bandages, plasters, that kind of stuff. Rock climbing is safe, mind you, but you can end up scraping yourself and I felt in general, being prepared for whatever might be a good idea if I was to live it rough on some rooftop. The bus-ride to Phuket took about 12 hours give or take. By going at night, we could sleep most of the way and be in Phuket early morning on the 25^th. The trip down was uneventful. We would take turns listening to music on Alex’s Walkman or talk about things we saw along the way. Like roadside bars and restaurants who were little more than a tin roof covering a few plastic chairs and brightly colored menu cards. Everything seemed simpler here, in the best ways possible.
No big flash, no fanfares or luxury. Nothing pretentious. Just a calm, laid back atmosphere and friendly smiles from the locals as we passed by. Alex told me he wanted to start a band blending elements of Shoegaze with classic rock and insisted I learn to play the drums as he had tried but found no luck. String instruments were more him he told me. I told him jokingly if he could come up with a good name, I might be down. He just nodded and looked out the window and started talking about how beef was a rare and more expensive ingredient in Thai cuisine, and I wondered about the sudden random change of subject. Although we had talked a lot during the short time we had known each other, Alex was still a mystery to me in many ways. Judging from all the things he told me he seemed like a person who dreamed big, but never really followed through
An unfinished education. Scribbles on pieces of paper that ended up gathering dust in his drawer instead of turning into a book. A band that never really took off because he lost interest or didn’t deem that it was good enough to get successful. He talked at length about leaving a legacy. It seemed to be something that concerned him. I guess he wanted to put his mark on the world. To be remembered. To live on in some small way. I had never really thought about it myself although I did have a fascination with historical people and the lives they lived. In fact, when I do read I mostly read biographies. I just never had any ambition like that myself. I don’t need the world to know my name, or sing my praises, or remember me. Good friends, family and a sense of freedom and adventure was enough. I had tried to ask Alex about his family and friends back home, but he seemed avoidant and always found a way to change the subject without really providing any meaningful information. At certain points, I sensed a carefully hidden sadness behind his otherwise optimistically youthful and bright blue gaze.
Phuket 25^th of December 2000. 2 days before the tsunami.
Alex woke me up. It was 9 AM and we had arrived at the Phuket bus terminal 1 near Phang Nga Road. We were here. Alex explained to me that the there were several derelict and abandoned buildings perfect for establishing a free of charge rooftop domicile in an area not too far from the resorts of Khao Lak. Phuket back then wasn’t exactly the overcrowded tourist spot it is today, but it was well on the way. I understood why. The scenery was beautiful. Long sandy beaches with small island dots in the horizon, begging to be explored. Giant limestone cliffs covered in green shrubs. It did seem like paradise to me, without being too far away from civilization. I guess despite my adventurous nature, I wasn’t quite ready at that point, to walk into the wild, which is why Khao Lak seemed perfect as a start for me.
We found the area Alex had talked about. Several derelict buildings were concentrated in a small area divided by a main street that if followed long enough, led to an area with shops and places to dine. We set our eyes on what looked like an abandoned apartment complex. It was derelict, rugged looking and it seemed clear at first that no one lived there. Its ghostly façade begged us inside to explore and we accepted the invitation. As we made our way in, through a busted window in the back, we quickly became aware that the place might not be as abandoned as we had initially thought. Several signs of squatters such as cooking utensils and sleeping mats lay scattered here and there. Alex quickly rationalized that it could just be other backpackers, or it could be the people had moved on. I shrugged and we decided to make our way to the roof. We made our way to the top floor and accessed a broken-down door that led directly out onto the roof. I must admit, besides excitement, I was somewhat hesitant. Any doubt I had disappeared when we first stepped onto the rooftop terrace. It was perfect. It seemed it had functioned as a balcony or space of sorts the inhabitants could make use of for gatherings.
The entire space was surrounded by a fence. Several palm trees shaded the northwest corner which was perfect for when things got too hot. In the middle a small shed or janitorial sort of building stood. We found some cleaning materials, brooms, some parasols in there as well as an old rusty grill. The view was great. We could see the large beachfront in the far distance surrounded by limestones. After inspecting the area and finding it to our liking we sat down, and Alex broke out a bottle of whiskey. Unaware of the horror that would later unfold here, we celebrated in the shade of the palm trees. We had found our place for a while. Our place.
After a while we decided to put some money in the local economy and shop for supplies.
Essentials: Water. Cigarettes. Booze. The devil’s lettuce. Cooking utensils. Although none of us was admittedly any much of a cook. But what the hell. Can’t be seen dining out every night when we were trying to live off the fat of the land so to speak. I know, ridiculous. We were squatters. Nothing more. But heck, we would move on if we became a problem for any one here. We weren’t trying to be a bother.
Optional but greatly wanted: A blow-up animal mascot. Maybe a dolphin if possible. Some new music for Alex’s walk-man. A guitar. Decorating artifacts of any kind to make our domicile more personal.
We more or less got everything we needed and started setting up base. Getting our hands on something funny to smoke proved the biggest challenge but Alex finally succeeded at a beachfront bar. Some friendly Norwegian dude who had connections apparently. He warned us against being too open about doing drugs, even if was ‘’just’’ marijuana. Thailand had a strict approach to drugs. We thanked him and he told us to just come back here at the bar if we needed more, he was usually around.
Afternoon was rolling around and there we were. Sitting atop Phuket. On our very own rooftop presidential suite. We decorated the place with a few things we found. Among them ‘’Arthur’’ our blow-up shark (they had no dolphins). Alex had come up with the name, I asked him why ‘’Arthur’’ but in what I had quickly come to know as typical Alex fashion he just shrugged it off. We just smoked a bit and drank some booze as the evening progressed and I told Alex about Robert and Australia and all the nasty things that could kill you there. I’m not sure why, but it had made an impression on me. Insects, rare poisonous creatures, stuff like that was nightmare fuel for me. Don’t even get me started on spiders. Alex was a bit more laid back on that front. He seemed most amused and interested in the suicide plant and wondered if some poor soul had ever mistakenly used it as toilet paper and we had a good hard chuckle over that idea. Poor soul indeed.
As night rolled on stars started popping up on a clear night the sky and I learned that Alex had a fascination with the universe. Particularly the idea of multiverses and infinite universes. What if somewhere out there we were looking back at ourselves. Slightly different but still us. Sometimes it seemed to me he longed to be anywhere else but where he was. Maybe trapped in the past he was so reluctant to share with me. Then we started talking about time. I don’t exactly remember why. I think he brought it up.
Anyway, Alex had a lot to say about time. Like how he believed our perception of time is tied to our experiences. For example, someone who spends their life not stepping up, not really taking risks or chances, just following along the stream, just following the routine, in essence, just killing time, might experience time as having moved fast when they look back, because there are simply less variety, less volume, less memories to look back on. We don’t remember routines, we remember breaking them, we remember doing new things, meeting new people, being in new places. It creates the illusion that gives time volume, that makes it seem fuller, longer. I liked that idea a lot. It made sense to me. Make sure you live life to the fullest and waste as little time as possible.
I told him about my 10^th grade math teacher and how he said something about time I will never forget. Our perception of time can be measured mathematically. For example, to a 4-year-old turning 5 the transition of a year will seem much longer than it will to a 24-year-old turning 25. Because 1 in 5 is a larger fraction than 1 in 25. It blew my mind. The longer you live, the faster time seem to pass. But I agreed with him, maybe the quality and variety of the life you live and the memories you make has an affect too. Alex made a ‘’boom’’ motion with his hands around his head and laughed. We were quite stoned at that point and well, some of you might know how being stoned sometimes throws you into these philosophical conversations. It was nice. I enjoyed the ease with which I could talk to Alex about all kinds of things.
At one point I asked him a hypothetical. If he could go back in time and change just one thing, what would he do. He fell silent. I once again sensed the sadness creeping behind his eyes. It was if he was about to answer, like he was sizing me up but then shot the idea down. Time travel is impossible, so why bother was his only response and I accepted that whatever troubled him in the past, was not for me to know even if my interest only grew stronger and stronger.
I told him about my family. My overprotective mother. My father and his desperate attempts to get me interested in cars. About my older sister and my nephew. Alex nodded and asked the usual polite questions. When the subject came to my little brother his interest seemed to spark significantly. How old was he? Was I good older brother? Did I look out for him? I didn’t think much about it at the time other than finding it curious how interested he seemed to be. When we finally settled in the for night, under the starry sky, I slipped into a nightmare. It was the same I had had years earlier when I was 16. Back then I was having a hard time adjusting to the new school I had started at and maybe because of that stress I was having nightmares coupled with sleep paralysis.
I would lie in my bed, paralyzed. On my side, facing the door to my room. I often had the light on outside of the room and it would shine in through the open door. This one time , I saw dark figure approaching. Optimistically I assumed it was my mom, coming to wake me up. Although as the dark figure approached, I quickly realized this wasn’t so. No words were uttered. The eerie figure just slowly came closer, until it was right by my bed side. It sat down and I realized it was an old woman or man. It was hard to tell, because its face was literally just a mish mash of wrinkled flesh. No eyes and no mouth either. But it mumbled through its mouthless face. Speaking in tongues.
I spent some considerable time afterwards wondering what it could have been trying to communicate to me. I know of course, this was all just my mind playing tricks on me. Yet, that experience was, I suppose, my first nudge towards believing there’s more between heaven and earth than we might know. It seemed aggressive in any case. My insides were screaming as I desperately tried to wiggle myself awake as I had sometimes successfully done during paralysis. I eventually woke up. Drenched in sweat. Back then though, I had actually been in my room, and in the dream the room had stood clearly for me as it actually looked in reality which only made it seem more real. This time, I woke up next to Alex, still drenched in sweat. Alex had woken up. I had screamed in my sleep apparently. He comforted me in an almost brotherly show of affection. It took me by surprise a bit. I appreciated it, though it only made me wonder about him even more. I would have to solve the mystery behind Alex I decided. I would have to truly gain his trust. Figure him out. And I did.
Phuket 26^th of December 2000. 1 day before the tsunami.
‘’Alex played the guitar a bit and I drummed up some beats. It needed some work, but not half bad. We came up with a name for our band to be as well. Subway sleepers. Based on Alex’s time sleeping in the subway of London. It was another hot perfect day on the rooftop. We talked about going climbing the next day and I can’t wait to show Alex the joys of rock climbing. Everything is peaceful here. No stress. Just living life. Smoking it up. Meeting new people. We talked some more with that Norwegian weed dude and invited him and a couple of his friends up to ‘’our’’ place for a party. Another near perfect day.’’
Looking at these diary scribbles is making me feel it all over again. The serenity of those calm worriless summer days (well it was winter back home but it felt like summer here. Strange that) leading up to disaster. Always calmest before the storm they say. This was our last day before everything changed. Before I got a lesson in humanity. In stress under crisis. Before everything I thought I knew changed forever in the meeting with something that surely shouldn’t exist in this world.

First Previous Next
Patreon Official Subreddit Series Wiki Royal Road
The Grand Dining Hall. Local time: 1210
Emma
The dining hall was, for all intents and purposes, the den of gossip.
[Grand Dining Hall. Add: Alternative Designator - DEN OF GOSSIP]
This was proven true by the incessant and rampant whispers, most of which were eventually hidden under privacy screens.But some of which were allowed to permeate through the air like a foul and sickening stench.
“What’s he trying to prove?”
“Usurpers. Tepid-blood minor nobles thinking themselves bigshots in their ill-gotten castles. This is all they know — power through brute strength.”
“Do you think this could be some sort of a roundabout statement for the House Choosing Ceremony?”
“Could be, or maybe the newrealmer is rubbing off on him. I heard those savages live in hunting-packs that deal exclusively in violence.”
“Poor Lord Ping… the man’s been dealt so many blows both to his ego and integrity. He truly is the victim in this upstart’s rebellion.”
“Let us hope the pious Ping prevails over his undeserving trials and tribulations. The man’s a saint, a pious soul that must hold fast for those of us adherent to the eternal truths.”
“Or perhaps we should wait and see how things develop. I, for one, wish to side neither with the narrow-minded bull nor the aggressive upstarts.”
“Lord Qiv may prove to be the more suitable candidate for class sovereign… but only time will tell.”
“Never in my wildest of imaginations would I have ever considered that the one to threaten our position, our place, our image, and our very survival in this sky of feral drakes to be you — Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor managed out incredulously, breaking me out of my long-range acoustic reverie. Though unlike his prior confrontations with myself, his current voice lacked the same intense vitriol. Instead, that was replaced with what I could only describe as a genuine sense of disappointment, as if confronting a friend who knew better than to commit to a dumb decision.
“That’s an understandable statement to make, Ilunor.” Thalmin replied uncharacteristically calmly, as if he hadn’t even registered the Vunerian’s assaults. Or at least, that seemed to be the case, until he shot the deluxe Kobold a predatory side-eye. “Because creatures that lack honor, integrity, and personal dignity, often conflate sacrifices and risk-taking, for foolishness and idiocy. For within the heart of a Nexian, lies only compromise for the sake of convenience. Whether that be the convenience of survival, the convenience of continuity, or the convenience of the status quo, you will sacrifice everything to maintain it — even if it means allowing your honor to remain sullied and trodden when there exists a pool to cleanse away that shame.”
Thacea’s eyes grew wary with concern at that statement, one of the few instances I’d seen her genuinely worried about an Ilunor-Thalmin interaction. In fact, even I didn’t dare to interrupt, especially after both parties had shot death-glares towards our elven waiter as he arrived with the lunch platter.
“Restraint, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor responded with a deep and calculating breath. “This isn’t the adjacent realms, this isn’t Havenbrockrealm.”
“Oh that much is very clear to me, Ilunor.” Thalmin interjected with something just short of a growl. “In Havenbrockrealm, we would sooner slash, stab, flay, or lash our enemies in fair and open combat, than reduce ourselves to cowardly attempts at assassination or retreat with our tails between our legs at the earliest signs of defeat.”
Ilunor took another breath, placing a small hand atop of his snout. “I… empathize with your desires to follow through with what you believe is a morally sound decision.” The Vunerian responded in a surprising display of maturity. “However, and this goes for you as well, newrealmer—” He paused for a moment, taking the time to glare at me before shifting back to Thalmin. “—we are not acting as independent actors anymore. For better or for worse… which, mind you, I still strongly believe this is very much for the worse in my case… we are now a peer group. And as such, the actions we take and their resultant fallout, should represent the interests of us all.”
“These are bold claims.” Thalmin began with a restrained snarl. “Even bolder when considering your actions the week prior. If the measure of a man were dictated by his words alone, then I would be inclined to acquiesce. However, considering the measure of a man extends beyond the weightless chatter of an exhaled breath, I feel far more inclined to reserve such actions for those far more deserving of my respect.” At which point, the lupinor turned towards both Thacea and I, following that up with a dip of his head. “I apologize, Thacea, Emma, for conducting myself in the way I did.”
Thalmin took a moment to pause, side eyeing Ilunor as he acknowledged him once again. “Whilst his character may sully his words, there is some truth to them. I have, admittedly, overstepped my bounds in committing to an action which undeniably affects the group. However, I genuinely hope you understand the reasons behind my otherwise brash decision. For I must stand on principle, lest I decide to stand at all.”
“Given the crap Auris Ping pulled last night, I’m inclined to agree with you, Thalmin. More than that, I would’ve gladly taken your place and dueled him the good old fashioned way if I could. Besides, the look on his face when you chose him to be your dueling partner? It was just priceless.” I offered with a snide grin. “In all seriousness, I’m really not in a position to chastise anyone on the issue of just gunning it with your gut instinct anyways. Heck, the entirety of last week was one long drawn out escapade for my sake, which came at the expense of the group after all.” I chuckled nervously. “So… yeah, this is incredibly tame by those standards, Thalmin.”
“Whilst… unexpected, and indeed a risk, I can understand the reasons behind it, Thalmin.” Thacea nodded uneasily. “However, I do not advise any of you to make a habit out of this.” She commanded, making an effort to make individual eye contact with each and every one of us.
Thacea’s group-mom vibes were definitely showing at this point, which was probably for the better. Given the group seemed to be a magnet for this sort of thing, it was good to have an anchor of sorts.
Sure thing, mom. Was what my gut instinct screamed at me to say.
But instead, I decided to tone it down a notch.
“As you command, princess.” I dipped my head in acknowledgement, garnering a look of abashed confusion from Thacea, and just plain-old confusion from the other two.
“In any case… I… believe you wished to discuss matters outside of classroom priorities, Emma?” Thacea quickly attempted to shift past that little bit of prodding, which I obliged with an affirmative nod.
“Yep. Well, it’s more of a small change of plans that I think is worth discussing with you guys. So, you remember how I was planning on deploying an infil-drone on Mal’tory after the end of class right?”
All three nodded, urging me to continue.
“Well, since Mal’tory was a no-show, and with Larial taking the reins instead… I think it’s best if we stick with the plan anyways, just swapping out Mal’tory for Larial. I honestly don’t see any other way we can continue the library’s questline, or any other way to find evidence to support the Auris Ping-Mal’tory hypothesis we have going on. I know it’s a huge gamble since there’s no way of knowing if she’ll even head to Mal’tory’s office after class. But honestly? This is our best shot right now.”
“I concur, Emma.” Thalmin announced with a nod.
“Given her proximity to the professor’s orbit, we may in fact gain a greater bearing on his actual state. Which in itself may prove useful.” Thacea offered, more or less acknowledging my change of plans implicitly.
“We don’t seem to have any other choice, earthrealmer. So a shot in the dark is better than stowing your wand.” Ilunor acknowledged in a rare display of solidarity.
“It’s settled then. I’ll deploy the drone right after class is dismissed. Then, we wait and see what the drone comes up with.”

The Grand Concourse of Learning. The Hall of Light. Local Time: 14:00 Hours.
Emma
Mana field perception was, as one would expect, dry, bland, and utterly nonsensical.
Throughout most of it, the lesson was taught as if it was referencing something obvious, something mundane, something so typical that a lot of the topics were all but overlooked as ‘self evident’.
A lot of what was taught reminded me of a mix between perception-theory, and situational awareness training. However, instead of relying on your eyes, ears, heck, even your nose or sense of touch… it was instead relying on something completely outside of the human experience.
“Mana field perception, is at its core, a subject that is inherent to the sapient condition. However, the extent to which it is appreciated, understood, and most important of all — applied — varies exponentially. To an untrained mind, and an untempered soul, the world feels tepid.”
The apprentice paused, gesturing to Sorecar, who answered his cue by pulling out a massive painting of a beautiful mountainscape that seemed to play through a closed animation loop; the effect was like a high-definition e-ink display.
“To a trained mind, but an untempered soul, the world feels… distant, unaccommodating, and frustrating to emotionally comprehend.” Larial continued, prompting Sorecar to pull out yet another painting. This one, the exact same as the first, with literally no differences between them.
“To an untrained mind, but a tempered soul, the world feels… unpredictable, erratic, and frustrating to logically put together.” Once again, another painting was brought out. This one, just like the previous two, looked completely identical.
“But to a sufficiently trained mind, and a tempered soul, with enough time invested into both theory and practice… the world becomes open, expansive, and above all else… it becomes rich with sights and sensations that would be impossible to feel with the physical form alone.” Larial concluded, just as Sorecar pulled out what looked to be yet another identical painting.
The EVI’s analysis concluded that there were absolutely no differences between the four paintings. Moreover, the mana radiation signatures for each were likewise exactly the same.
It was only after slipping a note towards Thacea with a question written in High Nexian did I finally get my answer.
‘What’s the deal with these paintings? They’re all identical.’
Thacea quickly slipped me a blank piece of parchment in response.
Though it didn’t remain blank for long, as words and sentences started appearing on it; mirroring Thacea’s furious ‘note taking’ in her own notebook.
‘They’re artisanal pieces imbued with the purposeful manipulation of the subject’s aura, mana-field, and the surrounding mana. They were brought out in order to demonstrate the different degrees of mana-field perception by exaggerating the most common shortcomings found in those training in the magical arts. The first piece was, similar to your memory shards, lacking in any mana-fields or auras. The second and third pieces demonstrated a failure to imbue one or the other of the two fundamental tenets of mana-field perception. The fourth piece is representative of a perfect balance of both tenets, and is an exquisite work of art that completely outshines the first. It radiates beauty, whilst the first is flat and lifeless.’
It took a moment for me to really register all that. Longer still, as I eventually became fixated on that last line in particular.
Flat and lifeless… is that what the world is like from my eyes?
It was around that time that a thought hit me, and a realization truly sank deep into my very being.
The world that Thacea, Thalmin, Ilunor, and the rest of the magical beings across the interdimensional plane experienced… was one that I was utterly blind to.
It’d been referenced before.
In fact, it’d been drilled into me time and time again by the likes of Ilunor that I was lacking in something fundamental.
But up until now, everything was either circumstantial, or outside of my general focus. So much so that I never was able to digest the implications of it.
However, as much as a pit formed in my stomach, growing tighter by the second as Larial went on and on about the ebbs and flows of mana, so too did a very human resolve suddenly dawn upon me.
“I’m going to see what you guys see one day.” I wrote down on Thacea’s magic paper.
“How?” Was the message I received back.
To which I only had one thing to reply with.
“The same way we overcame all of our other shortcomings.” I wrote cryptically, garnering a look of confusion from Thacea as she read the note, to which I only had to point at my armor for added effect.
By once again defying nature. I thought to myself.
If we weren’t born with the ability to ‘see’ this beauty, we’d find a way to break it down into its fundamental components, dissect it, analyze it, and then reinterpret it for ourselves.
The class continued on after that exchange of notes, as we touched upon what Ilunor had so eloquently described on that second day of the grace period:
One: that manastreams were everywhere around us.
Two: that manafields generated by living organisms were akin to rocks that not only parted those streams, but at times, interacted with them.
Three: that using manafields, one could make out the presence of other manafields through the manastreams, and thus detect and extract information as is pertinent to the context of the situation.
And while Ilunor would’ve blabbered on and on about the ability to see and sense the emotional state of others through the manastreams, what Larial seemed to be focused on instead were the practical applications of this natural ability. Namely, she focused on exactly how to detect a spell being cast, what sort of spell was being cast, and most importantly — she focused on how it all tied back to Light Magic.
“In summary, only when one is proficient in the detection and analysis of manafields, can one finally start to dissect the intricacies of a manafield during spellcasting. And only once one masters the detection of spellcasting, can one even hope to begin the process of dispelling. The first step of which is to know exactly what a manafield looks like during spellcasting. Is there anyone in the class that can tell me what that looks like?” The professor asked, looking around, before picking one of the many raised hands.
This one belonged to Qiv.
“Yes, Lord Qiv?”
“Influxes and effluxes, Professor. One will see the influx of ambient mana through the manastreams into a manafield, and the potential efflux of mana through a manafield back into the manastreams in the form of a controlled mana-construct.”
“Very good, Lord Qiv! Five points! Now, hold your thoughts on that latter part, because that ties into my next question!” Larial responded with a giddiness and chipperness that seemed to be lacking in every other class up to this point. “The fundamental means of detecting a spell being cast is by looking out for a point of influx, and a point of efflux. Influx being the more difficult of the pair to detect, for what you have to look out for is mana is being funneled into a manafield. A weak spell being cast, will incur less disruptions in a manastream. However, the opposite is also true. As the more powerful the spell, and the more powerful the mage, the greater the rate of influx, as the amount of mana needed to fulfill the requirements of the spell increases. Paradoxically this would mean it will be easier to detect a powerful spell before it is cast, as the reduction in the concentration of ambient mana will be more palpable as a result. Efflux however, is rather straightforward, and will be the primary vehicle through which Mana-field Perception will be taught. As it is through efflux that we can ascertain the most useful details of a spell, or as Lord Qiv so eloquently puts it — the mana-construct. Does anyone know what this next point may be referring to?”
Surprisingly, and out of a clear bias towards Qiv, Larial once more called him up.
I couldn’t blame her though.
The man, despite being a certified bully and teacher’s pet, was one of the few students who didn’t openly doubt the apprentice’s capabilities during the start of class.
“Yes, Lord Qiv?”
“The mana-construct refers to the skeleton of a spell; the arrangement and unique form it takes before manifesting into a proper spell.” The gorn-like lizard responded confidently.
“Outstanding, Lord Qiv! Five points! Now, whilst a mana-construct is indeed a vital step in the process of spell casting, its manifestation is rarely the point in time in which a spell can be intercepted — save for those who have mastered the art of Light Magic. As a result, a spell can be halted before it even has the chance to form. To most however, the mana-construct acts as a cue to prepare. It is a signal that demonstrates the irrefutable start to a spell. And as a result, it provides major structural clues as to the form of Light Magic that must be employed to combat it. Which leads me to my next point.”
The apprentice once more paused, as she manifested literally nothing visible to the tune of more than a dozen mana radiation warnings.
“When broken down to their basic components, every spell is a complicated meshwork of mana, channeled and contained within a dynamic pattern that continuously evolves throughout the duration of a spell. Because unlike artificing, the casting of magic evolves with unpredictability and thrives on organic change. No offense to you, of course, Professor Pliska.” The apprentice turned towards Sorecar worryingly, who simply responded with a bellowing laugh.
“None taken, my aspiring understudy!”
With that, Larial continued, her hands moving through an empty section of air that everyone seemed to be focused on; as if manipulating a hologram that I wasn’t privy to. “However, in spite of this unpredictability, the goal of Light Magic and Mana-field Perception in particular is to untangle the aforementioned meshwork of mana. For every spell is a puzzle and a series of knots to untangle. Your goal in this class, if I am to be reductive, is to untangle the complex mesh that comprises a spell, unraveling it to a point in which it can no longer maintain its form — collapsing it and thus, rendering it inert.” The apprentice emphasized this by miming what looked to be tiny little motions with her fingers, before pulling both hands backwards, garnering a series of affirmative nods from the crowd. “And with that, we now reach the conclusion of today’s class.”
“Or more accurately, the leadup to the climax of this class.” Sorecar quickly chimed in with a wave of his hand, prompting the room to change once more. Section upon section of the front of the classroom’s floor was dragged down into the impossible void, only to be replaced just as quickly by an elevated stage resembling that of a fencing strip. “Will the aspiring duelists please rise and approach the stage?” Sorecar turned back towards the crowd, prompting both Thalmin and Auris to stand, the pair giving each other some strong side-eyes before both marching up and towards the front of the class.
From there, with not a single word exchanged, they took their places, Thalmin at the far right, and Auris on the far left.
“The purpose of this demonstration is simple.” The apprentice began, as Sorecar began moving towards both Thalmin and Auris, insisting them to pay attention. “It is to show that even in spite of the complicated principles behind Light Magic, that there exists far simpler, far more basic principles that can achieve similar means. A precursor to more contemporary methods; spell-breaking. A maneuver that involves overpowering the structure and flow of a spell using a concentrated burst of pure mana irregardless of the type. However, unlike traditional dispelling seen in contemporary Light Magic, spell-breaking oftentimes requires a user to concentrate a disproportionately larger amount of mana in order to properly break a spell. It is thus highly inefficient, and as a result becomes rapidly impractical upon encountering spellcrafts of sufficiently advanced tiers. This demonstration will be aptly limited to a simple barrier-spell for the likes of the reciprocator, so as to not overburden the initiator with this simple task.”
The apprentice quickly passed on the torch to Sorecar, who quickly took center stage with a few steps.
“Now, as this is not a traditional duel for dominance, nor is it a sporting duel for the purposes of victory, I will explain the narrow context by which this duel will be held.” Sorecar continued, his hands clapping together, generating an empty and resonant CLANG in the process. “To our right, is our initiator, who will be demonstrating the principles of spell-breaking in an active capacity. To our left, is our reciprocator, who will be taking on the role of demonstrative spellcaster, casting only barrier spells for the duration of this short demonstration. Remember, there is to be no additional spells cast or demonstrated outside of these parameters. Is that clear?” Sorecar paused, making sure to meet both of the opponents’ gazes with his empty helm.
“Yes, professor!” Both parties shouted simultaneously, barely containing their frustrations beneath a veneer of calm and restrained fury.
“Then we shall begin on the count of three.” The apprentice continued, taking the reins over from Sorecar, as she stood just a few steps away from the stage’s combat-lines. “One.” She began, as Auris began moving into position, practically grinding his booted hooves into the stage, and taking on the posture of some unknown martial art. “Two.” Thalmin reciprocated by taking a more aggressive posture, as if positioning himself to leap towards the bull in a ravenous rage at the drop of a hat.
“Three.”
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 225% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 350% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Nothing seemed to happen.
At least, not to my eyes.
Within a matter of seconds, all I witnessed were two mana radiation warnings timelogged as only a few seconds apart from one another.
No physical effects were evident to me. Nothing, except for the flinching of a few muscles, and the waving of arms. As if they were conjuring make-believe magic spells, without the added special effects that came with it.
Ironically, this was how I was expecting most Nexians to react to the reveal of laser weaponry. Silent, invisible, but otherwise omnipresent and deadly threats.
Though despite the lack of any physical effects I could discern, there were certainly more than enough context-clues to go by when it came to exactly what had just occurred.
Auris’ features had more or less swelled up into a fury. His nostrils flared just short of snorting out fumes, and his teeth were bared clearly holding back a few choice words for the now-grinning Thalmin.
“Again.” He demanded, and barely a second after a nod of approval from the apprentice, came two more mana radiation warnings.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Once again, no noticeable physical effects had manifested. Though judging from the bewildered and shocked expressions of the crowd, something was definitely happening within the invisible world that was accessible through mana-vision.
“Again!” Ping announced, barely garnering approval from the apprentice this time, as things took a sudden enough turn that even I could notice them.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
It started with that ‘barrier’ again.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Followed by Thalmin overpowering it.
However, instead of letting things go, Ping instead pushed towards a frenzied series of attacks.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 375% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
As one—
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
—after another—
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
—after another—
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
—after another ‘barrier’ spell seemed to actually be causing Thalmin some pushback now. His movements now resembled someone attempting to dodge invisible projectiles, yet Auris made no moves to actually fling anything at him, only maintaining his prior stance.
Though of course, this came with the same expected response.
As Thalmin retaliated with his own attacks. Or rather, one, very large attack that truly outclassed what Auris could currently muster in his furious state.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 550% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
This spell that mildly shook the room seemed to be enough to ‘break’ the sudden incursion, prompting both Ping and Thalmin to turn towards the apprentice — the former blasting steam from his snout and the latter slashing his tail in the air — for yet another round of fighting, only to have Sorecar step in, placing a hand on both of the duelists who were barely a foot away from each other now.
“Wonderful! Excellent! Put your hands together for our introductory duelists, everyone!” The professor quickly coerced both of the parties to face the class, actively grabbing them by the small of their back, and thus effectively entrapping them with his iron grip — forcing them to face the class who cheered on with a series of applauses.
Not a second later, the pair of them bowed, though it was unclear how much of this was Sorecar’s doing, and how much of this was done out of their own will.
“In any case, seeing as both of our aspiring duelists have gone above and beyond in their demonstration, and seeing that this is merely a demonstration, and not a challenge—” Sorecar emphasized that last point, forcing the pair to sweat in his over-shoulder grip. “—I believe it would be prudent to award them each a fair share of this duel’s fifty points.”
“Given the enthusiasm shown, I am inclined to agree, Professor Pliska.” The apprentice quickly nodded, prompting the armorer to quickly push both of them off-stage, and back towards the staggered raised steps of the lecture hall.
“Twenty-five points for both of our duelist’s groups.” Larial reiterated, and with a final round of reluctant applause, barely overpowering the incoming band marking the end of class… the apprentice made her final statement. “This concludes this week’s first lesson. Considering the house choosing ceremony coming up this weekend, along with the Elaseer school supply shopping trip to town… I am inclined to grant this class some clemency. No homework will be required. So please, enjoy the rest of the day, and prepare yourselves for what could be the most decisive day in your academic career here in Transgracia. Class dismissed!”
No sooner were those words uttered did my eyes quickly turn towards my HUD, and a flash of commands came through without a second of delay.
INFIL-DRONE01a ACTIVE, STATUS: NOMINAL. OBJECTIVE: PRIORITY TRACKING AND RECONNAISSANCE OF SUBJECT A109. MISSION PARAMETERS: TRACK, OBSERVE, MAP, AND RETURN-TO-BASE WITHIN PREDETERMINED PARAMETERS. CONFIRM COMMAND Y/N?
“Command confirmed.” I replied vocally, prompting the newly-printed replacement drone to pop out of its docking bay, before charting a course parallel to that of the apprentice.
The drone’s signal was lost just as the apprentice left the room through that dark threshold behind the lectern, at which point, the entire class began shuffling out to the tune of the encroaching band.
Only time would tell what would come of this mission.
But hopefully, we'll get our answers sometime later this evening.
However, instead of blending right into the crowd, or more specifically… being ignored by said crowd, quite a few eyes managed to find their way onto our group. Moreover, the chatter seemed way too interesting to ignore.
“You were right, Cynthis… perhaps there is something about this mercenary prince after all.” A female voice spoke from an all-girl group, eliciting a series of giggles, which were promptly silenced by a privacy screen the moment Thalmin craned his head around.
“Lord Auris Ping has yet again demonstrated his integrity. Let us ensure his pure-hearted determination is lauded this evening, lads! The fearsome strikers shall band together with the most pious of intent!” A tortle-like-turtle jeered, moving strategically to position themselves around Auris Ping’s group, as the expected schmoozing began in full.
“Newrealmer.” Ilunor began, generating a privacy screen in the process.
“Yes, Ilunor?”
“How long do you expect your insect to take in its dastardly escapades?”
“Last time it took a good few hours. So, given this probably isn’t a one-and-done deal, I’d say… maybe three to four hours at the least this time around?” I offered.
“Well then. Splendid. I shall be off, and return within that time frame.”
“Wait wait wait wait. Hold up. Where do you think you’re going?” I inquired firmly.
“I have my own life to lead, newrealmer. Now please, I shall return to our group’s escapades in due time.”
“Where, Ilunor?” I reiterated.
To which the Vunerian could only sigh in response. “The student lounge. Top floor today, if I am to be interrogated for every ounce of information…”
“Then let’s go. Together.” I proclaimed, garnering a few looks of surprise from both Thacea and Thalmin. “Perhaps it’s time we start getting a feel for the lay of the land. We’ve been cooped up in our own little world for far too long, maybe, just maybe, we should all expand our horizons just by a little bit.”
First Previous Next
​
(Author’s Note: The much anticipated round two between Thalmin and Auris has concluded! And following its conclusion, we also get quite a few reactions to Thalmin as a result of his daring display of magical prowess! We also get a pretty hands on demonstration of Light Magic this time around! This is perhaps one of the more hands on class, and indeed one of the more straightforward classes so far! Moreover, the end of classes marks not only the beginning of the little spy drone adventure, but also a little peak into exactly what Ilunor has been up to! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 81 and Chapter 82 of this story is already out on there!)]

TL;DR: looking to see if requesting accommodations for a more lax dress code, including jeans/appropriate leggings/work related tee shirts/boots would be reasonable.
I am a current educator, and am struggling with the dress code at my school. Right now I am skirting the boundaries of what's allowed according to the employee handbook, and I would really like to get accommodations in writing to protect myself next year.
With our current dress code, staff is expected to dress professionally, i.e. blouse, slacks, dress shoes, on all days except designated spirt days. To be frank, most other teachers toe the line most days, including tee shirts, leggings, jeans, and shoes. Every now and then an email will be sent reminding employees that we should be following the dress code, but I haven't heard of someone actually receiving warnings or write ups for dress code.
I am disabled and use a wheelchair. Professional dress is very difficult as I have to have a lot of range of motion to be able to propel myself, as well as nicer fabrics getting dirty from my wheels and rims, which gets expensive when stains won't come out.
My disability also affects my energy levels and sensory needs, and uncomfortable clothing increases my pain and fatigue. In addition, I wear a lot of orthotic braces for my legs, back, and shoulders that I have trouble wearing with slacks and blouses.
I want to request to be allowed to wear school and content related tee shirts, jeans, and (appropriate) leggings on all days, not just spirit days. Obviously, I will only get a solid answer from my own HR department, but does this seem like a reasonable accommodation?

Since about 12 years old I've had this issue with people staring at me in public. This is part of why I developed social anxiety in the first place and became very self-conscious. I was thinking there must be something weird about me because everyone keeps staring.
I'm 27(F) now and it's the same story, nothing's changed. And before anyone says that I'm just being paranoid or imagining it or thinking the world revolves around me, that's not the case, I can assure you. I might think you're right if it was just me that thought this but nearly every time I'm out with my mum she'll notice it too, even before I do. If we're out shopping or at a restaurant or something, she'll say "that woman has not stopped staring at you this whole time" or "why does that man/woman/girl/boy keep looking at you?" and it's not just her either, when I'm out with friends they notice it and comment on it too, usually saying "what's their problem? they keep staring at you". This is usually even before I've noticed it because a lot of the time I'm so self-conscious I try to actively avoid eye contact with other people by just looking down or around the room.
When I'm on my own the staring is actually worse. When I'm walking down the street, cars will literally slow up when driving past to get a good look at me and almost break their necks staring at me. It makes me feel so self-conscious. I'll just be minding my business in a cafe and groups of girls/boys will notice me and then whisper to each other and they'll all turn around and look at me like we're in some high school movie lol.
You're probably thinking I must have some bright hair colour or crazy fashion sense but I really don't. I try to attract the least amount of attention as possible because I'm very self-conscious. The only thing 'unusual' about me is that I'm 5ft tall and most people think I'm about 16. But why would that attract stares? Have people never seen a teen before? Honestly, I would love nothing more than to walk around with an invisibility cloak on so I could just go about my business without having to worry about people staring/judging me. I literally avoid leaving my house as much as possible and only do it when I really have to.
I went on holiday last year and couldn't even wear a bikini to the beach (I wore a T-shirt and skirt) because whenever I've worn one in the past the staring is unbelievable and no, I am not imagining it because even my mother-in-law was surprised and commented on it. I don't want stares from gross old men, dirty looks from elderly ladies or judgemental teens. I can't do it, I don't want anyone looking at me so I try to attract the least amount of attention possible by dressing super plain.
Does anyone else experience this? Does anyone know if it goes away as you get older? I hope so.

Since about 12 years old I've had this issue with people staring at me in public. This is part of why I developed social anxiety in the first place and became very self-conscious. I was thinking there must be something weird about me because everyone keeps staring.
I'm 27(F) now and it's the same story, nothing's changed. And before anyone says that I'm just being paranoid or imagining it or thinking the world revolves around me, that's not the case, I can assure you. I might think you're right if it was just me that thought this but nearly every time I'm out with my mum she'll notice it too, even before I do. If we're out shopping or at a restaurant or something, she'll say "that woman has not stopped staring at you this whole time" or "why does that man/woman/girl/boy keep looking at you?" and it's not just her either, when I'm out with friends they notice it and comment on it too, usually saying "what's their problem? they keep staring at you". This is usually even before I've noticed it because a lot of the time I'm so self-conscious I try to actively avoid eye contact with other people by just looking down or around the room.
When I'm on my own the staring is actually worse. When I'm walking down the street, cars will literally slow up when driving past to get a good look at me and almost break their necks staring at me. It makes me feel so self-conscious. I'll just be minding my business in a cafe and groups of girls/boys will notice me and then whisper to each other and they'll all turn around and look at me like we're in some high school movie lol.
You're probably thinking I must have some bright hair colour or crazy fashion sense but I really don't. I try to attract the least amount of attention as possible because I'm very self-conscious. The only thing 'unusual' about me is that I'm 5ft tall and most people think I'm about 16. But why would that attract stares? Have people never seen a teen before? Honestly, I would love nothing more than to walk around with an invisibility cloak on so I could just go about my business without having to worry about people staring/judging me. I literally avoid leaving my house as much as possible and only do it when I really have to.
I went on holiday last year and couldn't even wear a bikini to the beach (I wore a T-shirt and skirt) because whenever I've worn one in the past the staring is unbelievable and no, I am not imagining it because even my mother-in-law was surprised and commented on it. I don't want stares from gross old men, dirty looks from elderly ladies or judgemental teens. I can't do it, I don't want anyone looking at me so I try to attract the least amount of attention possible by dressing super plain.
Does anyone else experience this? Does anyone know if it goes away as you get older? I hope so.

When I was in junior high a transfer student arrived in the middle of the semester; a kid that was different from everyone else. Right away he had caught my eye, in fact he caught everyone's attention because he had a very unique disability; he couldn’t speak. I guess you could say he was deaf, though it was clear to me after getting to know him that he could in fact hear; every word spoken to him was understood with simple nods or gestures; facial expressions contorting into understood language; so I guess he was mute; yeah, that would describe him best. He was an oddity to most but to me he was a unicorn, something that sparkled in our dim monotonous lives and it wasn’t until he revealed who he was did I become terrified of him and his shine.
I was in 7th grade maneuvering my way through the jungle of middle school, avoiding trouble and premature violence. I was an undersized boy for my age, no more than 5ft tall; puberty had yet to visit me leaving me left out of the herd; the other students or the ‘sheep’ as I called them that infested my school. They were all the same, kids that were driven by hormones constantly talking about boys or girls, their deep voices riding on the coattails of the wind that breezed in and out of our hallways. I was a mere shadow, always walking a few paces behind the others not wanting to be seen or acknowledged; I saw what others that looked like me went through, they were tortured and abused for simply existing.
Once Bryce Ellis and his friends stuck Timmy Easton’s face in the shitter for over 10 flushes, I was in a stall over, hiding and waiting for the torment to be over. I slithered my feet up on to the stall caressing them to my chest as I sat in a fetal position horrified of how one human could treat another. Eventually the bullies had gotten bored, their short attention span driven minds directed them to another endeavor leaving Timmy to fester in his tears and possible filth.
He sobbed for minutes that felt like hours as I remained silent in the stall over, I placed my hand cautiously on the barrier wall trying to absorb a bit of his pain, my heart ached for him in that moment and I wanted to lend him a compassionate hand if only I had the courage to do so. So yeah, I did my best to stay hidden, unseen to all the dwellers that mindlessly walked in and out of our school on a daily basis, the boys that believed themselves to be men or the girls that pontificated to anyone that listened. I was lost into an enteral sea of vindictive young adults that searched for any reason to lash out at anyone that stood in their way.
So when ‘Tape boy’ — as they would eventually call him — came to my little middle school that stood still in the secluded hills of our small town I was enthralled almost immediately with his existence. He was introduced to my home room class, I sat in the back burying my head into my arms, occasionally lifting my head to listen on the days lecture. My day dreams entertaining me as the clock slowly ticked away at our lives and it wasn’t until my teacher promptly stopped talking did it trigger a primal emotion in me to sit up and pay attention. I postured myself up straight, pausing the internal movie that played in my mind to see what the interruption was about.
There he was, a new boy that no one had ever seen before, by middle school everyone knew each other; we had went to the same elementary school, the same holiday events and grocery stores. So getting a new student was like getting a new flavor at Baskin Robbins; a mystery taste simmering on the tip of your tongue as you digested every drop, his presence was intriguing. He wasn’t small like me, I would say average height for a 12 year old; about 5'4, slender body with unkempt dark black hair. He looked timid, his head tilted towards the ground not wanting to accidentally lock eyes with any of us as the teacher introduced him, my mind wandering with such intrigue because to all of our astonishment he was wearing a surgical face mask — mind you this was in the 90’s; eons before the Covid pandemic breached the windows of our thoughts.
Right away I could hear the murmurs, the questions erupting throughout the classroom as everyone pondered of why this boy sheltered his face. I stared on for what must of been minutes as the shy boy kept his gaze down, I could see him slightly squeezing the arm straps to his backpack nervously the longer he stood there on full display for all.
I had my fill and I relaxed my postured sinking back into my chair directing my stare out the window but then Billy Sherman asked the question we all had on our minds,
“Uhm, why is he wearing that mask?”.
Our teacher explained to us that it was because of some weaken immune system, something about how his ticker didn’t click like the rest of ours, she then also told us about him being mute. This drew my eyes right back to him, I think it did for all of us and for a moment the quiet kid raised his head and locked eyes with me. His dark black eyes glistened with despair, the deep purple bags that sagged under his eyes were more indicative of someone that hadn’t slept in days. I felt something for him in that moment, our third eye conversing in some cosmic dialogue and as quickly as he rose his head did it drop once again towards the ground. I could still hear all the the other kids snickering, questioning and some even giggling; it made me sick, if I was a braver boy I would of stood on top of my desk and verbally lashed out to all the sheep, instead I rose my hand asking something Mrs. Willis never said, what was the timid boys name?
“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me, this is Gabriel”.
She sat Gabriel upfront next to her desk, wanting him close in case he needed to write or sign something to her and just like that everyone went back to their simple lives; including myself.
The next few weeks I saw little of Gabriel other than the back of his head during class, once the bell rang everyone that my eyes glimpsed at for the day disappeared or just maybe it was me who dissolved into the ambience of our school. Either way I saw little of the boy who wore a mask, the one that sheltered his true identity and my curiosity with the new flavor of the week gradually faded into the abyss of non-existence; well, that was until the day I saw the mask slip.
It was end of the day, I spent most of the time turning corners anytime Bryce Ellis approached; evading the wrath of him and his band of merry men who were the pinnacle of human torture; finding any opportunity to demean those who crossed their path. I remember leaving Chemistry class, my mind all to occupied with leaving the hell hole of every kids dread and that’s when I saw Gabriel walking down the hall towards the cafeteria; his head still tilted down; his gaze tracking every step he took; face mask still tightly fitted around his face.
This time I saw someone was following him, it was Tom Ingram one of Bryce’s guys, a kid that tried to be the “alpha male” of the group numerous times, doing his best to dethrone the reign of Bryce. He was a big boy for his age, probably about 5'9 and easily weighed 200 pounds, he was a wild card alright; he got caught pouring sugar down Mr. Whitakers old Pontiac gas tank for giving him a poor grade. So when I saw him berating poor Gabriel; taunting him as grotesque laughter followed every insult, I felt like I had to do something and my consistent stealth veneer of camouflage morphed into into a full on sprint towards the two. I saw Tom was closing in on him, other kids looking on with bewilderment on their faces — not knowing if they should laugh out of fear or grimace from disgust. For the first time in a long while did a burning sensation of courage ignite in my soul, I was tired of seeing monsters preying on the sheep and I was going to stop it somehow.
Finally Gabriel had stopped walking and stood still, his head hanging even lower than before, the strands of his long hair covered the remainder of his face. Tom began slapping the top side of the poor kids head, yelling out obscenities, angered that he didn’t stop sooner. I was close, I was gonna stop this since all anyone else could do is cower in fear while looking on and then it happened causing me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widening with befuddlement. Tom had torn away the mask from Gabriel's face, awes with groans came from everyone then silence blanketed the entire school and for those few seconds our existence had been swallowed up by the earth itself.
“What the hell” Tom yelped out breaking the still but heavy disquietude.
I wanted to say something, but no words could be manifested only gurgles as I choked on my own disbelief. The timid boy under the mask of intrigue had a strip of black duct tape covering his mouth, it stretching from the side of his face to the other almost resembling what would be some hideous smile. The timid boy then collapsed his hands over his face as faint muffles of sobbing protruded from him, he ran into the nearest restroom only for Tom to pursue. Finally my thoughts had been gathered while my body came back to life, I brushed off the bizarre occurrence of that grizzly smile and I reminded myself of what was about to happen. Tom was going to punish Gabriel for simply existing as he and his gang have been doing for years and like some old factory machine the cogs of my body set into motion as I ran towards the restroom.
Before I could open the door the most horrid scream exploded outwards into the hallway, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine and Tom came running out of the restroom gripping at his face crying. He was hysterical running and bumping into the walls until finally crumbling onto the floor only to continue sobbing. My mind was clouded with a whirl wind of confusion, I no longer knew what to do, I mean I was going to run in there and stop the assault but now the assaulter was on the floor destroyed. Then Gabriel calmly came out of the restroom, his mask firmly back on and he turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning an image of anguish into my mind. I asked if he was okay of course he said nothing though, he didn’t need to I could just sense his response and it was one of gratitude. I almost could see him smiling at me from underneath the mask and I reminded myself of what was under it; that abysmal duct tape that looked like a sinister grin.
From that day on most of the kids were afraid of Gabriel, I could see the look of terror in their eyes anytime he passed by them even though his headed was still shifted downwards but that’s the day whenever someone mentioned him they referred to him as “Tape boy”. I had heard through the whispers of our school that Tom had suffered some mental breakdown, that the doctors couldn’t find anything psychically wrong with him, it was as if his mind had shattered. He remained in some mental hospital, memories of him gradually fading and the sheep went on with living their mundane lives. Bryce even slowed his bullying, I think he knew that their were now more eyes watching everyone after the altercation and he didn’t want to get caught in some bad situation, though I could see he was itching to get at Gabriel. I went back to being a shadow, avoiding all the others still not too confident that the days of torture were over.
Even though Gabriel was regarded as some magical or perhaps malevolent being by most; not sure which one; he still appeared to be sad; lonely, his head always dragging with despondency. I made an effort in getting to know him, I wasn’t afraid like the rest of them something about the day we locked eyes gave me the resolve to understand he wouldn’t hurt me. I approached him during lunch break, he was outside sitting underneath a tree, the shade showering him a gloom of haze. I think I surprised him or maybe it was just my stealth nature but I saw him jump when I sat next to him. I began talking about the origins of Darth Vader, of how he was originally a hero using his force power for good only to eventually turn to the dark side.
Gabriel just looked at me confounded of why I was even talking to him, his stare looking on with indifference. I told him that he was like a super hero, doing whatever he did to Tom was just like a super power, that I was thankful. His gazed then returned back to the floor almost out of shame, I guess whatever he did that day he didn’t see it as something special, or something to praise. I then told him that I still envied his ability to defend himself, that having such an ability was better than winning the school lottery — which was a week supply of free cafeteria food. I kept blabbering on for the remainder of the break while he still postured his stare towards the floor until the bell had finally rung. Before getting up I told him that if I could have a super power mine would be invisibility that’s when he turned to me pulling out a small spiral from his back pack writing something down, he then showed me.
“Why?” it read.
I told him that I didn’t like being seen, that if I could I would melt away into the noise, then life would be better he just stared at me with what I could assume was disbelief. He didn’t write anything back, he just remain seated while I stood to my feet. I asked if he was coming back to class but he ignored me and just stared out into space presumably lost in his own thoughts.
For the next several months I would catch Gabriel in the hallways, talk to him about the latest edition of whatever comic I was reading, Superman being my favorite and I would go on and on about how his true super power wasn’t strength but hope. I think he became more comfortable with me, pulling out his spiral notebook to write down his thoughts; his questions and answers — a new gateway of communication had formed between us. Most times I could tell what he was going to write by looking at his eyes, those dark haunting eyes, he was a mysterious book slowly being revealed to me and I was completely beguiled by his friendship. Bryce and his little posse slowly went back to bullying the sheep, though they kept their distance from Gabriel and me.
I guess I had a new protector one that wouldn’t be crossed and something about that protection left me feeling proud. I knew in my heart that the timid kid that now went by “Tape boy” wouldn’t hurt a fly that maybe the day of Tom going crazy was all by chance, perhaps his rage snapped his mind. I tried asking him about that day numerous times but he never explained what happened he would redirect the conversation back to super hero’s. I would walk home with him on certain days, well, more like he would walk me home I never got to see where he lived, he was too reserved to give up that kind of information but the days we would walk together was always fun. I finally felt like I belonged, the longing emotion of needing acceptance was found by his friendship.
One day when I was walking home by myself I decided to stop in at the gas station to pick up a drink and scour the latest edition of comic books in the small rack of magazines. Before entering the store I could hear arguing voices engaging in combative dialogue and it became vividly clear that it was more of a yelling match than conversation. It was coming from the side of the building, most times I would just ignore it but one of the voices sounded all too familiar and I crept slowly to the edge of the building poking my head out to get a glimpse of the disturbance. It was Bryce, his back was up against the wall while someone who I presumed was his father berated him with such a vicious snarl on his face. The angry man kept slapping Bryce across the face anytime he tried to say something and soon tears began drizzling off the face of the mighty bully only for the man to laugh.
I didn’t know why the older man was treating Bryce the way he was, information cut out of my understanding, for all I know it could of been because of something the bully did at school. I found it to be poetic justice that the boy that caused so much heart ache suffered the same amount only at home. It felt like a cliche, the angry kid was angry because of the angry father; a cruel loop of never ending proportions. Eventually the man or father walked away getting back into his car leaving the bully to brush away the tears from his face. I cautiously retreated my head away deciding to ditch the store completely when that same broken voice only minutes ago shouted out to me with a hefty dominance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bryce howled out.
I didn’t bother turning around, I just ran home, dodging into alley ways trying my best to not been seen. It didn’t appear as if he was following, but seeing him in such a vulnerable state was bemusing. We were a small town how could I not know who the man was, we all knew each other since we were small and then it hit me; Bryce’s dad had left when he was little. This man must of been his step dad or perhaps mom’s boyfriend, it didn’t matter I was going to mind my own business, I was going to slither back into the shadows; but my attempts would only fall on defeated shoulders.
I didn’t want to tell anyone of what I saw, I hoped that keeping my mouth shut would of been enough for the bully to leave me be. Unfortunately there is no reasoning when it comes to human beings, we base our actions on emotions, our anger and Bryce confronted me the next morning in front of Gabriel.
“Hey fairy, did you enjoy the show?” the angry kid spouted out at me.
I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to intrude, that the arguing concerned me, that I didn’t like seeing him being mistreated and then he punched me right in the gut. I fell to the floor gripping at my stomach, the pain slicing through every fiber of my body. I tried catching my breath but inhaling was too painful and I sheltered my face expecting another punch but the bully walked off leaving me to sweat. Gabriel kneel down to me taking out his spiral notebook writing the obvious question, I gestured to him to give me a moment and I honestly felt like crying. I had spent years doing my best to blend into the background, the invisibility power I was so desperate to have amongst the sheep was now gone; I was on Bryce’s radar.
For the remainder of the school year I tried avoiding the bullies, the monsters that preyed on the sheep but their leader would actively search for me, he was no longer intimidated by Gabriel; his once menacing allure had dwindled and now we both were sitting ducks. Luckily there was only a few weeks left until summer break and I only had hoped that the time off would be enough for the monster of monsters to cool off.
Entering summer was a relief much needed for my sanity, I took a few thrashings but it was over, me and Gabriel had big plans on spending time together. He wasn’t an out door kind of kid, he usually would just come over my place and we would read my comic books. He quickly grew enchanted with the idea of super hero's, their powers restoring balance to the nature of our world. I enjoyed every minute of it, my parents on the other hand looked less jovial to our friendship, they didn’t like the mask; it worried them. They thought that whatever illness he had could be passed on to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop us from seeing each other, they only silently protested.
So after awhile we decided to meet somewhere outdoors, away from my parents judgmental stares, there was a creek close to my house, the trees giving us enough shade to stay cool on those long summer days. The small stream that flowed through the trenches of the creek enriched our view as we would find the perfect rock to perch on while reading our comics. We didn’t see much of any of the other classmates that summer, the sheep kept their distance or maybe it was just us, but the days seem to pass quickly and before we knew it summer was coming to an end. I couldn’t remember how many volumes we must of read but Gabriel was now a fan of almost every super hero. He tend to raise out his arms while walking, mimicking the premise of flying like Superman; his ponderous eyes cutting through the brush as we escaped our secluded summer spot.
It was on the final day of our summer break did I pressure the shy timid boy to explain to me what had happen that day, the day Tom lost his marbles, I needed to know. Gabriel as always tried redirecting the conversation, holding up a comic of Batman, pointing at some dialogue. I got upset, I raised my voice telling him that if we were friends then he should tell me, that there wasn’t secrets between us. His heavy eyes collapsing to the ground, shifting his posture on the rock that we both sat on.
“Look, I just need to know, you’re my best friend” I told him with genuine longing.
The school year was about to start up again and I could already envision a future of slithering through the hallways how I have always done, but with Gabriel maybe that could change. I needed to know and I was done guessing, fantasizing that he was some super hero or at least my hero; my protector. I stood up off the rock walking over to the stream, the sound of water colliding unto the small stones that infested the trench triggered something awful in my gut. I took a deep breath and made my final stand with my best friend.
“If you don’t want to tell me then I’m going home, see ya” I said with impatience dripping off of my words.
Gabriel ignored my warning and continued pointing at the comic book, that’s when I noticed what he was pointing at, it wasn’t dialogue it was one of Batman's villains — he was pointing at Clayface. This made me stop, my minding halting after speeding at 100 miles per hour; it crashing my thoughts.
“Yeah, what about Clayface?” I curiously asked with a withered and tired voice.
That’s when his pointer finger was no longer on the page but rather it was pointed towards his mouth; the mouth that was hidden behind his mask. He could see my face drop with sadness, whatever disfigurement he had underneath that horrid black duct tape must of been something like the villain from the comic and my heart broke for him. Gabriel’s eyes gleaming with absolute sorrow, the boy that only wanted to be left alone, the person all the others feared just wanted solitude and here I was badgering him to no end about something so insignificant. We stared at each other for several seconds, our eyes meeting in some altered state and I reached my hand up to his face tenderly taking off his mask. There it was, the black duct tape that resembled a grin, a nightmarish one that could only been seen in some horror movie. I then placed my fingers on the edge of the tape, my cold grip causing him to shiver and I slowly began to remove it.
“What the hell are you fairy’s doing?” a voice called out from the brush, one that sank my heart into my stomach.
I turned trying to locate the voice and sure enough there he was, the bully that had tortured so many for so many years — it was Bryce. His body slowly revealing itself from the brush like some despicable ooze frothing from the depths of hell. Though, something about him was different, his cold stare no longer fictitious but more intimidating and as his body fully emerged did I see the blood trickling down his soaked stain shirt. He was covered in the crimson fluid, there was even some on his cheeks almost as he had some open wound and smeared the remnants of it on his face. The devilish grin that bestowed his bruised and beaten face quickly led me to a conclusion; one that I wish I didn’t conclude. A purplish black infested the out layer of his left eye, it practically closed shut and his nose had been bent to a unsightly angle. I started to whimper as my lips trembled from fright because this Bryce was not the same one that had given us wedgies or swirlies this one was a true monster, a beast that devoured souls. His gaze was enough to display a vacancy of any humanity and my eyes crawled down his arm into his hand to see the black pistol that he firmly gripped.
“Uh, Bryce what happened? Are you okay?” I groaned out while sniffling.
He didn’t answer, he just kept grinning at me, the ghastly smile that stretched ear from ear plagued my vision and I knew that he had done it, that he had hurt someone badly. I was terrified and in the moment I had completely forgotten about Gabriel, my tunnel vision only focused on that firearm.
“Where the hell did the other one go?” the monster asked, I turned and realized Gabriel in fact had run away leaving me behind.
I wanted to run, I wanted to flee while screaming but horror kept me in place and I felt like some dear trapped in headlights contemplating my entire life in mere seconds.
“Everyone always messes with me!” Bryce yelled out with such ferociousness.
There was no talking my way out of this one, no pleading, I knew in that moment he was going to kill me; his rage over flowing to the point of lunacy. He quickly pounced dropping me to the floor, screaming with madness and he repeatedly hit me over the head with the but of the gun causing me to see stars. His words became incoherent sounding like muffled tones that slushed it’s way into my hearing, I shook my head trying to collect myself, just maybe I could figure a way out of this but as soon as my vision corrected itself Bryce would strike me another time causing it to blur once again. I fell into a darkness, my world collapsing into an eternal void of loneliness as my body began to float effortlessly but as soon as I thought this was my final moments flashes of Gabriel flooded into my mind awakening me out of whatever slumber I found myself in. That’s when I realized Bryce was no longer hitting me, instead he was talking to someone and as I grabbed at my head trying to steady my balance I saw it was Gabriel standing still head as always tilted downwards.
Bryce confronted him pointing his 9mm directly at his head yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs but my best friend remained unmoved, just quiet and then he slowly removed his mask. This caused Bryce to pause, his tone weaken and I think for the first time he digested if he should proceed doing what he was doing.
“What are you doing freak?” the bully yelped out.
Gabriel remained quiet, eyes still directed towards the floor, his breathing escalating; I could see his chest pump more vigorously with each passing second. With the mask off me and Bryce could see the bewildering black duct tape strapped to his face, Gabriel’s face began to tremble violently as if he was trying to yell through the bondage. He then finally began to peel of the thick layer of black duct tape and it came off with a wicked screech as I could see my friends eyes squint with pain.
Bryce was no longer pointing the gun at Gabriel, no longer was he even saying a word his arm lowered to his side and both him and I stared on with amazement. What was under the tape was layers of skin, twisting and binding to each other like some thriving organism living it’s own life on Gabriel's face. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t say anything I was in shock and my head still throb from pain. Then Gabriel's mouth — if you want to call it that — began to stretch open, he tilted his head backwards while the mountain of dead flesh started to drip down his face allowing some endless void to open up inside of him. I could hear the cracking of bones breaking, his jaw shifting to accommodate the massive hole that was now his mouth and then horrid dwindling fingers began to protrude from the darkness.
My mouth gaped open with trepidation and if I had the ability to adjust my head I would think Bryce had the same facial expression. Then a grotesque head forced it’s way out of my friends mouth revealing a face that could only exist in the realms of the dead, this new creature having two large almond shape eyes; eyes that looked very similar to the ones that were attached to my friend. This ‘thing’ then stared at Bryce, that’s all it did, no words were spoken no violence was created it just stared at him and soon the bully grasped at his face and began to yell. He ran frantically in different directions, his gun firing out into the tree line, I jumped for cover; falling to the floor sheltering my head with my arms. Bryce’s terrified screams caused my stomach to turn and soon those dire cries stopped along with the gunshots.
I must of stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, too scared to rise to my feet and through my peripheral did I see the sun begin to set plunging the small creak into darkness. I eventually mustered up enough courage to get up and I looked around, Bryce was mere feet away from me, he lay still on the floor blood spewing out of his head; it appeared as if had shot himself. I walked over to his body befuddled of what to do I then remembered Gabriel, I turned to look for him but he was gone it was only me and Bryce's dead corpse. I ran home telling my parents about everything, of the encounter I experienced, at first it seemed as if they didn’t believe me but they still phoned for the police.
I led them to the creek to the bullies dead body, I initially thought perhaps they would blame me, connect me to his death but the police believed me; well the believed me about Bryce but not about Gabriel. They told me that Bryce had killed his step father, apparently they had gotten into some altercation and afterwards he went into his mothers bedroom and shot her to death. They told me that the once bully was a disturbed individual, suffering abuse for many years; that I was lucky to escape from his wrath. I told them that they needed to find my friend I wanted to know if he was okay, but all the officers could do was pat my back with sympathy trying to relax me.
It has almost been 30 years since the event, I still have nightmares of what had happened, I see the dead stare Bryce had while pointing his pistol at me, I see him repeatedly hitting me over the head again and again. Though, what still haunts me more is Gabriel's mouth contorting into that horrid shape revealing the creature that lived inside of him. He was never found, I’m pretty sure he moved on to another city, another place where bullies like Bryce tormented their schools and I could only imagine Gabriel was there to balance the wrongs of the world. I am scared of my best friend, but I know at the same time he is my protector; my super hero, he is out there doing good, I can feel it and I hope he can sense my love for him. Maybe we will never meet again, perhaps it’s not written in the stars for us to reunite but one thing is for sure, I get comic books mailed to me randomly every month; most are of Superman and I know exactly who they are from.

i have to know if this is too harsh🙏
basically at my school loads of kids put major effort into putting a design of their name on the back of their shirts, and then everyone on leavers day would sign the shirts as something sentimental for leaving that school forever. Thing is ive been bullied alot as a kid, i have suffered from domestic abuse and autism, and due to this my social skills have never been the best resulting in this bullying. My idea was too permanently ruin the shirts of these kids who made my life the past five years so intolerable its pushed me to attempted unaliving. To do so i would use something like vinegar and ketchup (both supplied from school) and then cover the people in it, because vinegar means they would have to wash the shirt because of the smell (removing the sentimental signatures) and ketchup would stain the shirts easily.
Is this too far? if not what liquids could i use thats worse?
please help me and discuss your opinions below🙏

Okay maybe I lied a bit but I do stay up late and have sharp canines and am very pale. Speaking of vampires I finished a four year long ttrpg campaign about vampires with my friends. Now were onto DnD, still about a vampire haha.
Don't worry I'm not a total nerd, I also love working out especially bench press and bodybuilding. Getting big enough from my arms and shoulders that all my old shirts are getting too small for me. Next bench press goal is at least 120kg.
I'm looking for someone who's honest, knows how to communicate and won't ghost me. I do also prefer people who talk a lot lol. And as a warning, I do enjoy flirting. Let's vc on discord and if we click we click!!
(Extra bonus points if you play elden ring 👁👁)

Them ppl in these barbershops are insane, you know what?
is not that I don’t want to pay, honestly paying is not the issue, but bros cut are like or worse than those working per hour that usually a cut is $15-$20.
There should be some type of regulation, if you are new in town and looking for someone good it’s hard and a waste of money, and don’t come to me with a nice instagram or booksy pictures, that to me, honestly it was someone else doing the haircut, fr fr…
Mad respect if you are good with your hands, no hate, but you have hella fellas assaulting people with those prices.
You go to a barbershop to test waters, Damm Edgar’s and trash songs, mota smells all over, like come bro? I like mota too, but there are places, some showing their guns, lifting their shirts like hey “look at me, I am armed” type guy.
It’s disgusting asf when you enter to a barbershop and see a lot of mushrooms walking🤢🤮.
Ppl that got out of college should not be allowed to charge +$40 for a cut, I know I am not someone to tell others what to do, but I am the one paying, I am the one that’s going to be messed up.
Going back to the topic, a fade shouldn’t be expensive, is not that you are doing a Damm art, I respect the hustle and the time you did in school, but some are still doing it wrong.
Today, i decided to go to Walmart, bought a nice machine, watched a YouTube video, and problem fixed, no one is going to touch my head anymore, just my wife.

If you're curious about my thoughts on previous Yakuza games, here are my much shorter (except for 4, thats pretty long too) reviews for Kiwami 1, Kiwami 2, Yakuza 3 (Remastered), and Yakuza 4 (Remastered).
All of my reviews are made pretty quickly after I finish the game, this was written right after I finished but I haven't posted it till a month later because its so long I thought no one would ever read this but whatever I gotta get my truth out there.
Per usual I played the remaster of Yakuza 5. I'm not sure of any outstanding changes or things of note like with 3 or 4, but if something I say is exclusive to the remaster please let me know! I may sound overly praising or overly critical of this game, who knows but please be kind when you tell me i'm an idiot for feeling the way I do! Lastly and most importantly please please please don't spoil future games in the comments! Also warning I'm way too active in the comments section.
Because I am an utter psycho and decided to write a fuckin bibles worth of yakuza 5 ramblings, Part 1 is just reviewing the plot and Part 2 goes over everything else. I split this up last second so there's likely some spots where I say something like "we'll expand on this later" then I never bring it up again, that's because it's probably in part 2. If you want my thoughts on things like the substories, side stories, gameplay, and settings you can read Part 2 here: https://www.reddit.com/yakuzagames/comments/1cvrybw/yakuza_5_a_mega_big_ole_reviewsummary_for_a_big/
The Plot:
Like with Y4, I will discuss my thoughts on each section of the game rather than in one long chunk just because I find it more fun. I'm not even gonna try to not summarize this time because this game is so big it needs broken down.
Part 1: Kiryu
You might often find me compare Y5 to Y4 a lot in this review because they're honestly quite similar games and feel like a package. When I started playing 4 I was worried I wouldn't like playing as primarily strangers for a majority of the game, but one thing they did absolutely right was making Kiryu the final protagonist you play as in that game. So going into 5 I was very apprehensive about starting off with Kiryu, I worried they showed their hand too soon and that it would be difficult to stay invested the whole time.
With this feeling going into the game, I was immediately somewhat losing it over Kiryu being an incognito taxi driver with the worst disguise of all time (some sunglasses and a face mask, don't worry he's literally the only one in the game that seems to think it's a good disguise). Right off the bat, this game feels...sad. Kiryu watching Haruka giving an interview on the TV and storming out rather then defend her to some losers who don't get what ART is, was SAD. This part of the game felt so mundane for awhile, but not in a bad way! You wakeup as Kiryu, walk to work, drive your taxi, and go home late at night (usually) alone. The whole time my eyes were drawn to a facedown picture frame and wondering what it could be, but I certainly had a guess. Kiryu is going through a hard, isolating, and depressing time and you can feel that so well from the game and how they have you play as him. Anyways there's also a random gal named Mayumi that will not leave Kiryu alone despite him asking her to. All you're doing by the end of chapter one is going "Huhhhhhhh?" Anyways Kiryu is approached by two dudes named Morinaga and Aizawa in chapter 2, telling him Daigo was???? Kidnapped?? GASP.. Admittidly I wasn't too fond of this duo at first. One thing that was consistent through my playthrough is that I was completely incapable of predicting anything correctly, and it had felt like these two were gonna be my pals for the rest of the game and I just wasn't clicking with them. Not to mention this weird semi-one sided-romance going on with Mayumi.
In chapter 3, we begin with the most heartbreaking thing that could ever happen to me, Yakuza 3 superfan. Kiryu has been pushed out of running the orphanage by a lady named Miss Park. It's all making sense now. He does it so the orphanage can have money and so Haruka can follow her dreams. DOESNT MAKE IT EASIER TO DEAL WITH FOR ME :( . Then we meet Watase, first thoughts? I was like "god I hope this guy isn't the main villain he's kinda lame" Soon after we meet Aoyama and I thought literally the same thing. Clearly by this point in the game I didn't have the highest hopes. I was mostly sad and not liking most of the new characters. But then... things take a turn.
Mayumi was actually a spy! thank god honestly. Kiryu meets Aoyama again but then Morinaga shows up and fuckin kills Aoyama and says he buried Aizawa alive HOLY SHIT? and then soon after I'm told Majima is fucking dead. Figured he wasn't actually dead cuz I've seen pictures of him from later games but holy shit I somehow cried just at the THOUGHT of him being dead. Also at some point here we met a detective who is an important player in this story but at this point not too integral. Also before Kiryu leaves he picks up the picture frame and its the orphanage ;-;
Kiryu final thoughts: This part of the game was fantastic. I'm so glad they started with Kiryu in this case despite my initial unsureness with it. Chapter 4 especially is when everything really falls into place and starts going 100 miles an hour but I also love the slowness of the previous 3 chapters. I do wish we got more Morinaga as this is unfortunately the last we hear of him despite this being a wonderful set up to a really interesting villain. Mayumi was a pretty shit character per seemingly always with any full grown woman in Yakuza games. While I think it's cool she was secretly a spy she was clearly an afterthought as we never hear about her again so that's cool. Basically a mixed bag of new characters overall.
Part 2: Saejima
I jokingly said to myself "Wouldn't it be funny if I had to spend half of this section breaking out of prison again. Thank god that's not the case." and continued hanging out with Majima until I was arrested for two more years of serving my sentence and OH NO IM BACK IN THE BUILDING.
Yeah I was VERY unsure about breaking out of prison again being a good call. Thankfully, and sorry to Y4, this is a much better prison sequence. Another thing I was really unsure about was BALD SAEJIMA! But actually... it kinda slays harder? In Y4 he looks like that guy from the game The Hatred (an insult) maybe it wouldn't be so bad if bro washed or brushed it but he never did and so instead bald was a slay. Anyways We're dropped in at nearly the end of Saejima's serving period with his group of friends/cellmates, newest one being some dude named Baba. We are relentlessly tortured by the scariest man I've ever seen, Viktor Zsasz-I MEAN! Kugihara. Who's honestly scarier looking then Zsasz somehow. But it is ON because Viktor Zsasz framed my bestie Baba and I will not let that slide so I beat the fuck out of him and it's revealed Zsasz was instructed to be a dick to me. By who??????????????????? Then it's double revealed to me that Majima is dead and I'm sad all over again :(
Turns out our warden is actually really chill and nice and somewhat tries to help us survive. What a breath of fresh air after Satan (Saito) from Y4. This guy is so cool infact we are encouraged to break out by him. So Baba and I do in the dead of the night and tell me why I cried over leaving my two other cellmates ;_; they were such bros. Zsasz hinders my escape and we fight, but my absolute PAL Himura fuckin shoots him it was an amazing turn of events and I cheered so loud and was devastated to leave him behind but anyways-
FUCK YEA SNOW MOBILES (they were kinda jank to control honestly but its the thought that counts). I am so glad I didn't know I was going to be fighting a bear going into this because that was easily the most camp thing ever and so hilarious. Then some old guy saves me (and later Baba) and we chill in the mountains for a little while. The mountain has a whole crazy detailed side story of it's own that I'll explain in more detail later but basically it was cool.
So then a ton of important stuff happens in Tsukimino, most notably we hang out with Baba in a bar which is great because I love Baba and him and I are super tight and he's easily the only person I could ever trust at this point without potential for betrayal! :)
Anyways me and Baba fuckin kidnap this guy because his chair is by a sewer manhole? He's gone in a flash so all I can imagine is dragging him down the hole by his ankle or something. Then we talk for awhile, Majima is mentioned woohoo, THEN HE'S sniped! The way I gasped. Longstory short :( Baba is the one who sniped him and not only that he kind of set everything up and wasn't my best pal all along :( Why Baba Why? Then Baba basically confesses his love for Saejima and can't go through with killing him, AAAAAAND Im back on the Baba train. That detective I mentioned from earlier arrests Saejima but not to throw him back in jail, to assemble the Yakuza avengers.
Final Saejima thoughts: This was shockingly fantastic. I was probably least impressed with Saejima's section in Y4, so it was shocking to have basically the same structure and general narrative beats but done well. It wasn't perfect, I didn't love it as much as Kiryu's section as I'm partial to a slow burn, but it was fun I have no real complaints, except MAYBE more then one chapter in Tsukimino would be a better choice.
Part 3 (first half): Haruka
I did not know I was going to get the HONOR of playing Haruka going into this game. We start off very strong, dancing to the greatest song of all time "So Much More." I mean we really get the full idol experience here with mean ass teachers and shady management. I didn't expect to get an Idol simulator in my Yakuza game but it might be the best thing ever. I decided right off the bat to put everything I had into this section of the game so immediately I did literally everything I could. Most of this chapter feels like a bit of a reflection of Kiryu's were working and going back home alone, it's all as monotonous and isolating as can be (except you're a predebut idol) and I love this. We quickly meet a girl who will serve as my bestie named Akari and yes I indeed would die for her thank you. Meeting Akari introduces us to this sections version of combat, DANCE BATTLES! I know some people might be disappointed you don't get to punch people as Haruka, and I get that, but this feels like a more genuine gameplay style for her character. It's hard to imagine Haruka fighting thugs in the street due to her personality (not that i'd be against it, especially after that weird virtual reality game where I get to wack dudes with a wand) plus I found this gameplay style so refreshing. I was never groaning or sighing because I had to dance against someone. I think it helps that I wasn't forced to do it 15 times in a row walking down the street, but I had the option to most of the time unless it was part of a quest. Maybe that's how all the gameplay should be? I don't mind being approached by thugs sometimes but it always feels like it happens too often in these games and with getting the option to while getting to walk around carefree otherwise in Haruka's section was just SO NICE.
Anyways, We get the whole set up here, we are participating in a competition show that will single handedly set the course for our debut. We're competing against this band called T-set. I hate them so much. They're so mean :(. At some point we see Miss Park absolutely SLAY and tell off Haruka's dance teacher and she doesn't take his shit at all. At this point I was like "Uh ohhhh I don't wanna like her but...she kinda rocks" my decent into stanning Miss Park only continues from there. We have to go convince some guy named Christina (interesting name to take but also a slay, much respect to Mr. Christina and his fedora) to be our new dance instructor. This causes drama with me and Akari which devastated me because I love Akari but we made up like immediately so it's chill.
Then at one point, I forgot the context, Haruka is shopping for a gift for Miss Park when stupid T-set shows up and STEPS ON THE BROACH I BOUGHT FOR HER. I was back and forth on them until now, now they may burn in hell. Especially after they made Haruka get on her knees and beg for forgiveness like ???? what gives ??? Park shows up and SLAYS and gets rid of them. Park then wears the broach :(((((((((
Then one of my favorite parts happen in chapter 2, Haruka and Miss Park go hit the town and just bond together. It's so stinking cute I wanted to cry. This whole time I was trying to not get emotionally attached to Park because it really felt like she was gonna end up betraying us. But the night continued and we get some mother daughter vibes going, even so far as holding hands????? Also Im somewhat glad I didn't get to wear the outfit I bought at the store with Park because I was going for a Cheetah girls inspired look then realized far too late how tacky that might come off, not everyone is Raven Symone ya know?
Anyways at this point I'm like wow this is the cutest game ever, nothing can ever go wrong, Park MIGHT betray me but I don't even care. She gives us a cool pen and a tragic anime backstory with an abusive ex husband and everything and we call it a night Well the next fuckin day my world crumbles because PARK IS DEAD! She "committed suicide" as if!
Part 3 (second half): Akiyama
I can't tell you how devastated I was to realize I'd only get to play as Akiyama for half of a section of the game. However, I was also thrilled to see him at all. Apparently he's opening a Satenbori office and also he is the one who financed Park's dream to debut Haruka so that's how he has a hand in all this. There is tragically very little Hana, she calls you twice and both times were fantastic but I wish I had more :(. Anyways Akiyama has heard about Park's death and goes to the office and meets Haruka. I didn't think they'd even really know each other and assumed we'd have an interesting reveal that they both know Kiryu later but nah they know each other. It honestly probably works better this way because we don't have time for such trivial things! Akiyama is a fuckin detective now. I don't know why he has been tasked to do this but he does it so well I don't even mind. He quickly figures out Park didn't actually kill herself and they simply need evidence to prove this. I'm unsure when this happens but at some point while talking about the mystery SOMEONE FALLS OFF THE ROOF! It was Horie :( who I haven't mentioned yet but he's my manager and a real pal. Thankfully he lived but we found out that the former dance teacher pushed him off. I think he also killed Park or Kanai did, who knows, either way someone did and they suck for it.
Chapter 4 has a lot going on, but basically the president of Osaka talent is sus and he's also the secret chairman of Ousaka Enterprises, which is a different thing... but sounds similar. Ousaka is basically a higher up family in the Omi alliance, so he's part of the bad yakuza!!! Haruka keeps doing the competition and T-set keeps sucking. She wins the princess league by a landslide. I don't even see the point in a third round if she won both of the other rounds? Is the third round just worth more points? Either way Haruka destroyed them and they suck. Her poor vocal instructor is working as her manager now. At some point we find out Parks ex husband was none other then Majima! Which is quite the revelation. Japan is such a small world, everyone seems to know each other. This does mean that Majima at least hit Park (I think after her abortion) and I think he's like 10 years older then her yet they were already married when she debuted at eighteen... Is it time for me to confront the possibility that my favorite crazed murderer might not be the most upstanding citizen?
It ends with Haruka being kidnapped, (nothing out of character there), and Akiyama saving her. He and Haruka make their way to Japan for the big ole concert Park had been planning. Wow this story is really picking up! I hope nothing grinds it to a sudden stop!
Part 3 final thoughts: God this was amazing, every step of it. My only complaint is I wanted more, more Akiyama and MORE dancing but I might be the only one who wanted 40 more hours of dancing. Detective Akiyama and Haruka duo was not the team I knew I needed but Im glad it happened. I found all of the music and gameplay here SO fun and I loved the plot too. I really liked Parks character. I wouldn't necessarily hang out with her, but I found her to be pretty well written and its hard to hate anyone Haruka clearly treasures, I am very sad she is actually dead because up until the end of the game I kept thinking she was going to come back.
Part 4: Shinada:
We have come to a sudden stop. We start with a flashback to 1997 where Shinada has debuted as a baseball player for the wyverns, don't forget this moment because the rest of this section of the game constantly calls back to it. In the modern day Shinada is a loser who is really heavily indebt and lives in a weird grimey rooftop shack. He also now writes like ? smut articles ? And he's friend with a girl named Milky which is the craziest name I've ever heard. A loanshark who talks about his kids a lot constantly follows Shinada around and takes his money. There was a lot of promise with this gag, like maybe instead of letting me keep the 100k and still acting like I'm broke he shows up after every side mission to rob me but nope. At the end of the chapter we run into a masked man who is frankly just Daigo stealing Kiryu's disguise idea.
Shinada and loanshark (his name is Takasugi) walk around town looking for leads on uncovering the truth of Shinada's past. Because you see, Shinada one time got fired from baseball cuz everyone thought he cheated, oh you already knew that? yeah same but don't worry you'll hear it at least 40 more times. Daigo asked him to go look for clues about this, why does he care? I still don't know honestly. Takasugi is forcing him to go because...I guess money? and he's walking around with me and were acting like friends now for some reason. Shinada is incapable of having any agency for himself, he just does what people tell him to. He also keeps nearly dying like a looney tunes character with shit falling out of the sky and stuff. Eventually we find out the Nagoya family fixed the match and then some guy Shinada used to know does get smashed like a looney tunes character. Skip ahead, were called to help by Milky and she betrayed us. I am sad cuz I thought Milky was a friend for life. Turns out literally everyone Shinada knows aside from the fkn loanshark are evil, even the old baseball lady. This plot was so convoluted I frankly don't understand why they were doing what they were doing, all I know is they were more like a neighborhood watch situation then Yakuza even though they seemed to do the exact same thing. Also when I say literally everyone he knows is evil I mean everyone, even his old coach or whatever. For way too long I thought they meant the middle school baseball coach so I was hella confused. Anyways we then find out that actually Takasugi is Shinada's number one baseball fan. Okay? Anyways
Chapter 4 things finally pick up a little. Daigo reveals himself like anyone ever was doubting it was him, and he also reveals he cares because he went to highschool with Shinada. Is that fr how were connecting this? Daigo got expelled from highschool because he protected Shinada from a rival school. Once again, okay? I guess Shinada doesn't like that Daigo is a yakuza and punches him out the door. I wasn't a fan of this. Daigo goes down pretty easily, pitiful Daigo strikes again. I love him but can he do anything right? Anyways I guess the fight meant nothing cuz they're pals now and go to Tokyo together. We get a cut to Takasugi getting his money back from Shinada as well as a signed baseball...okay that's really cute I nearly cried. I wish they actually left it there but instead Shinada runs away last minute to meet up on that stupid baseball field from 1997 that we cant go 5 minutes without hearing about and we fight this guy named Sawada who was like the kind of mastermind and also the pitcher. Had Sawada not thrown an easy pitch, Shinada wouldn't have hit it and thus been kicked out for cheating. We fight some Omi then play baseball and OMG WHY ARE WE DOING THISSSSSS
Finally it ends and we go to Tokyo
Shinada final thoughts: If you cant tell I was not a fan of this. I found Shinada to be really inconsitently written. In side missions or when he's playing off of certain characters he's quite entertaining and un, but most of the time, he seems to just be a blank slate who does whatever and only talks about baseball. And omg maybe if I liked baseball this would have been the best thing ever but we did not need THAT much baseball talk or constant referencing to that baseball game in 1997. I get its central to his character but it became a meme how often he'd get misty eyed and talk about getting kicked out. Why did he move Nagoya to escape his image as a cheating baseball player when 1) he constantly talks about it anyways, 2) everyone literally knows who he is here anyways. They make it seem like at first he wants nothing to do with baseball anymore but he also goes to the batting cages all the time and also thinks about nothing but baseball. The plot here is just SO hard to follow and not at all what I want to be dealing with after we were really in the thick of things with part 3's ending. I'm not saying it was impossible for this to be good, I think there was so much potential here! Like seemingly all of Yakuza 4, the concepts are there but the execution is iffy. I think it's biggest downfall is when it happens. It would have made so much more sense to make the last section before the finale the Haruka section. Shinada would have felt much better to play as maybe as a part two or even a part three, but NOT part four. The odds were stacked against him being amongst a cast of characters that I already know and love. I definitely was more of a Tanimura fan, but I liked Shinada as a person. His inconsistent writing, unfortunate story, and tendency to be a little annoying really dragged this part of the game down for me.
Part 5: The Finale
This finale is crazyyyyyyy so strap in. I would expect nothing less then insanity from this game. First Kiryu shows up in Kamurocho WERE HOME BABYYYYYY. Were being followed by BABA!! I missed him. We fight for fun or something then we cut to Saejima who is meeting with the detective who tells us we gotta find Morinaga. OH YEAH THAT GUY. So we go to the Florist and we go to the arena only to find... AIZAWA??? The fuck? I thought Morinaga fuckin killed him cold blooded and made me think he was a cool as fuck villain. Only to find out that GASP Morinaga is actually dead. At this point I literally don't believe it because I guess I was in my era of not believing anyone ever dies.
We go to Akiyama who is told by Osaka ceo to not let Haruka perform. Akiayam says hell no. We also find out that Park and him planned to make Haruka and T-set a group and debut them at the same time but I somehow missed this when playing and didnt realize that till way leter. ANYWAY At some point we also see the CEO doing naked push ups in his penthouse which was so weird. ALSO there is a Date-san reveal. The scream I screamt! I didn't know I missed him or needing him so much in a game till I saw him again. Usually I'm wondering why he's even there or what he adds but I finally get it now, he adds being Date to the table and that's all you need.
Then I do a tower sweep at Kamurocho hills and OMG is this what Majima was building the whole time? To be fully honest it's beautiful and im very proud but its so different and lowkey off-putting. Kind of like Majima himself. I miss him. A whole game and I only be hearing about him second hand its not fair. Question, did literally anyone choose Saejima to do the tower sweep? Anyway were on the top of the tower; Kiryu, Saejima, CEO Katsuya, and Watase. We all have to fight eachother to draw out the one true bad guy and also cuz this is a yakuza game, so off our shirts go and everyone fights. Basically everyone gets shot and the bad guy is revealed... THE DETECTIVE. Who saw it coming? I still kept thinking Park would come back or Morinaga but by this point I was definitely suspecting him too. I don't fully get why he's doing all this but long story short he's purging both the Omi and Tojo of nice? Yakuza? I guess? I think it mostly has to do with him making way for his son to inherit a role in everything but thats not further explored till later. Not to worry tho! Daigo has shown up!!!! But because he is Daigo you should definitely be worried because once again he cant do anything right and he gets shot by Kanai. God dammit Daigo. He is now in critical condition, this is the SECOND TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED DAIGO. He's such a damsel in distress, never change.
Baba tells Haruka the message Kiryu had for her, to never give up. He also asks her to come with him to convince to Kiryu to chillax but she refuses. Sad for no one but me. At the New Serena, where that absolute BOP of a song is blaring, Kiryu is sleeping, while the rest of the crew are chilling and chatting. I forgot to mention Akiyama and Shinada briefly teamed up but frankly who cares. Shinada talks about baseball alot here too just incase you were worried he wouldnt. They conclude that detective bad guy is gonna attack Haruka's concert which I will NEVER allow. I guess Shinada's purpose here is actually tha the knows the stadiuk layout pretty well which I will buy in to. Also I believe here Haruka gets told about her and t-set being a band together now called Dreamline. I also dont love this. The idea of it is fine, Im all for a disney channel original movie plot where the bullies are actually great and we all become friends at the end but the issue is they don't properly develop T-set to do that. The short haired girl gets one little moment of being somewhat nice to Haruka then the very next time I see her she's stepping on my boss's broach and making me beg on my knees like sorry but it's really hard to come around on liking them. Even now when Haruka stumbles duing practice they're rude! This is a tragic ending if anything but Haruka seems happy I guess... Dont worry they will be nothing more then Haruka's glorifed backup dancers.
Okay final chapter, and it's a doozy. We send Shinada of all people to go help Haruka at the stadium, I know i just said I get he knows the layout of the stadium but like :( he's literally the only one who hasn't met her. I guess they don't end up interacting really anyways. Saejima is going to go after Majima because btw he's alive and at the top of the millenium tower. Akiyama and Kiryu stay on the ground to defend against attackers and they probably punch/ kick at least 10000 men. All the while Haruka gives her concert. But Baba is lurking and gonna shoot her, I thought he learned to be good again but whatever. Him and Shinada end up having a confrontation that ends in Baba losing and he's about to kill himself when !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my prison besties and the wardon show and up stop him! Oh my god I loved that so much what a nice resolution for Baba and I love that those guys went straight to a Jpop concert just for their pal. Meanwhile Saejima confronts Detective evil man on top of the millenium tower and !!! there he is, finally Majima is here. But he is not having a good time, turns out he's allowed himself to be captured and tortured for the sake of Haruka and now Majima and Saejima have to fight for the same reason. Then! Daigo shows up, while im literally begging him to actually shoot the bad guy but instead they all talk. Haruka is safe from harm (Baba wouldn't have done that shit anyways) and we officially learn about the plot of him attempting to put his son in charge of everything. Kiryu goes to Tojo headquarters to stop whoever this suspicious son is and Akiyama fights Kanai. Then literally all our friends ever show up to help and that was damn cute.
Kiryu shows up and it's eerie, completely silent with dead people everywhere. We go to the meeting room and the guy behind it all along was Aizawa. I definitely did not see that coming because I forgot he existed. But I suppose thats the point, he was so unassuming. I guess that means Morinaga actually was dead all along. We fight Aizawa while Haruka sings a song that seems very pointed at Kiryu wins (duh) but he is not doing well and tries to make his way through the streets. Meanwhile Haruka announces her retirement because she cant hide who she is or stay away from her family any longer and runs away to find Kiryu and THE GAME ENDS. Other games gave me a after credits scene that somewhat eased my concerns, but 5 is a overall very sad game and it's scene is her managing to him but he's bleeding out in the streets and falls unconcious in her arms.
Finale final thoughts: This was quite the finale! It was much better then Shinada's section but it was still a bit messy and left a lot of plot threads up in the air or had some unfortunate revelations. Nothing bad but things I think shouldve maybe been revealed earlier, like Aizawa. Only finding out with like 20 minutes of the game to go makes it feel too empty or even rushed when we know this game is otherwise not rushed at all. I was a little sad about the ending, I don't think it was bad at all I was just sad. The whole time I imagined it ending with the whole gang going to Haruka's concert and having a good time. For once I dont think the game fully dropped the ball on the finale like they tend to do so I commend it for that.
TLDOverall plot final thoughts: As a whole this is one of the most well written Yakuza stories since Yakuza 3 (obviously in my opinion). I can see that for some people all the plot twists and surprises might have felt like too much but I loved it, I never once could predict where this game was going. Morinaga dying off screen was such a let down and missed opportunity, at the end of Kiryu's section I was thinking he was going to be the best Yakuza villain in awhile but instead he went out in such a lame way. I do kinda wonder who killed him, I assumed it was just the detective guy but Aizawa seemed at least somewhat sad about Morinaga's death. I wonder if that was all a show? Another thing I dislike not just because of how it went, but also that it ended up going no where, Mayumi. They made quite the big deal about her at first and I do like the plot twist that she was a spy, but she wasn't even really acting any different when she was in spy mode and in normal mode. Plus you literally never see her again. I think Saejima's section was just very reminicent of his in 4, but done well. Aside from it taking quite so long to get to the city, by the time you leave it feels slightly rushed. I think the chapter in the woods didnt need to be its own thing. Absolutely no notes with Haruka, only that I'm sad this is all we will see of Park, I found her to be a really interesting character. Akiyama is where my main issues arise, only because I really do think he needed his whole section. He felt a little tacked on otherwise when I think he really didn't need to feel that way. I had hoped he would be part of half of Haruka's section then half of Shinada's where he is used to introduce us to Shinada as a character. But instead we get dropped into that like nothing. I know im probably the only one who cares about Hana this much but I really wish we got more of her. I basically said all my issues with Shinada at the end of his section but once again, I really didn't enjoy that plot. The finale was a mess and unfortunatly left at quite a cliff hanger which I wouldve rather it didn't but Im also okay with how it did. Some other things I wanted in this game was MORE MAJIMA I get why he wasnt for narrative purposes but Im gonna say that in every game. I wouldve loved more Okinawa orphan content. That being said there is way more content for them in this then in Y4 which is wild considering we spent like 5 seconds in Okinawa during a flashback and you never actually see them. It was so nice to hear what theyre up to second hand and some of the side missions expand on them a little more but I am devastated they werent there.
Lastly to briefly compare it to Y4, as they do feel like connected games. Y5 realy does feel like they took all of the concepts of the 4th game that needed to be reworked, and then re-did them to be better. The villains are better, prison break outs are better, and just like way more. I do think there are things in Y5 that are lacking compared to Y4, like general atmosphere, and I do think Tanimura's section in 4, as flawed as it is, is better then Shinadas. Akiyama's in 5 is great, but I love his in Y4 more simply because he doesn't have to share the spotlight. But I really have to emphasize, story and character are done better in Y5, ATMOSPHERE is done so much better in Y5.
TLDR for the TLDR: I liked this game :)
And there you have it, the longest goddamn review of all time. It was a really great game and I wish I could play it for the first time again because it was just SUCH a great experience. If you read this far I am so impressed by you and eternally grateful you even cared to. Please let me know your thoughts! I'm so excited to talk about this game with people. As for my rating, It was going to be a 10/10 until I got to Shinada's section now I'm in between an 8 or a 9. Ill just say 8/10 to be mean.
I am already neck deep in Yakuza 0 so I'm excited to write a much shorter review for that one soon.
Thank you for reading!

DM seeking players to join an old-school D&D campaign using the 1983 red box (MentzeElmore or "BECMI") edition of OD&D.
The game will be focused primarily on dungeon- and hex-crawling, much more about exploration and lateral problem-solving (in the typical OSR style) than acting or storytelling (other than, of course, environmental and emergent narrative). Immersive-sim open-world sandboxing, in other words.
The setting is human-centric high fantasy set in an 18th century milieu: think flintlocks and tricorn hats for the aesthetic. Here's the player handout!
We'll be playing every Sunday afternoon from 12:30 to 5:00 PM at the Geek Room in Omaha, NE. The first session will take place on Sunday, June 2nd. Ask away by reply or PM if you have questions!

To start off, my dad used to be my hero growing up, when I was a kid and he was deployed over seas I would cry for him to return, and even with his anger issues and yelling against me and my two siblings I stilled cared about him but in 2014 we would move and my family arrived my dad planned on divorcing my mom, he planned this by holding onto out furniture as to wait to get my mom kicked out of the house so we had to me and my sister had to wait for our furniture my brother would be lucky as he went to college as we were moving, but me and my sister didn't go to school intill our furniture arrived. During that time we were using air mattress while my dad wasn't in the house, at the time I thought our furniture was just taking a long time to arrive as we moved from Hawaii and my dad was just out of the house for a while as this happened before when my parents had a fight, and even when me and my sister went on visitation I thought it was temporary intill my dad told us they were getting a divorce. I was sad but didn't also fully realize the situation, it wasn't intill my dad got a apartment after renting a room in a house that my anger for my dad started as after my and my sis helped bring things in he told us "I'm sorry for your mom being such a monster". After that situation would be 5 long years of visitation and him trying his hardest to get full custody while my mom would get none, luckily that never happened but he tried everything even using his sister(aunt) to sit us down when we were at Christmas visitation and ask "what medication my mom took to make her act this way" this even made me hate my aunt who up intill this point I had a decent relationship with. But my dad wouldn't stop there from calling the police on me and my sister to force us into visitation, to poking me till I had a bruise when I refused to talk to him. He even forgetting my age, when we argued and thought i was a year younger. Everything he did just made me hate him even more, but even now 5 years after I turned 18 and didn't have to see him anymore I still wanted to reconnect as I had a hole from not having a father, intill I was about to message him on Facebook and saw in 2020 he made a shirt during covid saying to make sure you wear a mask and that he need to outlive his ex-wife. I just don't understand why he hated her so much my mom did nothing to deserve this and during the divorce never said a single bad thing about him, yet he claimed she was alienating us against him, when it was him that alienated us against him. And even though he remarried and didnt even invite his kids it made me angry, and even though i wouldnt have gone it still makes me sad that he doesn't try more to reconnect besides sending me and my sibling post cards and money, that were most likely money my grandfather left us, as he told my brother about it, but my grandfather never used a lawyer and trusted my aunt to do the right thing, which my aunt is another story. I don't even want money, all I ever wanted was am apology for all the wrong he has done. There is more to the story but it's already long enough, I want to still message him but not to reconnect but to now confront him, though I dont know if I should.
Sorry for the long post.

Hi gainers,
I have just finished running Super Squats by Randall J. Strossen and wanted to share my results. There are plenty of discussions of this program out there already, but I figured sharing my experience with the program can't hurt and can hopefully be interesting, or maybe even useful to someone. This was my first time running a "proper" program (i.e. one designed by a prefessional) and it has been by far the most productive training block I have done so far. Since I am a beginner, I'm not calling this a review (I don't have the training experience to offer any kind of expert opinion). This post is meant rather to show my results as a beginner on the program and to share some of my thoughts about it.
[Before, 82kgs, 10 April 2024](https://imgur.com/a/super-squats-before-82kg-10-04-2024-PvPBvIl). NSFW. Pics taken the day after the first workout.
[After, 86kgs, 18 May 2024](https://imgur.com/a/loPa07y). NSFW. Pics taken the day after the last workout.
Background:
M30, 6'2", no athletic background. Typical denizen of this sub in that I could always eat loads and not put on weight blah blah blah. Worked out in my teens with weights in my room but never maintained a consistent schedule long enough to see significant results. Fast forward to 2 years ago when I started doing bodyweight workouts at home and making an effort to gain weight. Had some success and then started going to the gym at the start of this year. Did a 4 day/week UppeLower split with some success. My weight had fluctuated between a very skinny 67kgs to around 73kgs throughout my twenties. Prior to running Super Squats I had already bulked from 74kgs at the start of December to 82kgs at the start of April (I started taking creatine in January which definitely contributed to this weight gain).
The Program:
Super Squats is a book, which is short (less than 100 pages) and contains everything you need to run the program. Although the book was written in 1989, the routine it outlines is based on old-school squatting programs utilized by strongmen from the 1920s onwards. A chapter is devoted to this history of squats, the "master exercise". There are a couple of anachronisms (my favourite is referring to the hamstrings as "thigh biceps") but overall it is well-written and presented.
The program itself is a six week full-body routine, with the choice to run it 2 or 3 days per week. I won't spell out the whole program here (just buy the book), but the core of the routine is, of course, a single set of twenty heavy squats, with the trainee taking at least three deep breaths between each rep. The squats are supersetted with a set of light pullovers or Rader chest pulls to stretch the rib cage. The starting weight for the squats is a weight you can do for 10 reps (and yes, you really do twenty reps with that weight) and the program stipulates that you must add at least 5lbs/2.5kgs every single workout. The program is fairly light on volume (especially if you run it 2 days per week like I did) but what it lacks in volume, it more than makes up in intensity.
There is no way around it: heavy, high-rep squats are deeply, profoundly, brutally unpleasant. There is no stipulation for rep cadence or how long the set should take, you can take as long as you like, but completing 20 reps with good form will require having the bar on your back for at least 3-4 minutes. From week 2 onwards, the single set of squats always took me more than 5 minutes (and it always felt much longer).
Performing warm-up sets slowly and deliberately was crucially important. Before I even got to the warm-up sets I performed a few reps of touchdown-squats on a box, and a few more of goblet squats with a light kettlebell, opening my hips against a resistance band to prime my glutes and quads.
Super Squats is the embodiment of "mind over matter". The book has a whole section on mindset and positive visualization to help trainees to manage the seemingly impossible task of squatting a 10-rep weight for 20 reps. It sounds stupid, but by the second half of the program, I had gotten into a ritual of giving the bar a firm slap, as a jockey would slap his racehorse, before I started the set, cementing my effort to view the bar not as an enemy to overcome but as a friend helping me to achieve my goals.
Reps 11 and 12 were usually the hardest. By the time I got to ten reps my legs were already trembling. My whole body was drenched in sweat, the weight of the bar impossibly heavy resting on my traps, crushing my whole body into the ground. Time had slowed to a crawl, and the thought that I was only half way would be enough to sap my resolve if I let it. Once I got to rep 13, comfortably more than halfway, I no longer had to think about breathing. I was sucking in great lungfuls of air automatically and heaving them out so hard I sprayed the mirror in front of me with droplets of spit (yes, of course I wiped it down afterwards). Once I got to rep 17 I knew I had the set in the bag. No matter how tortuous those last three reps, no matter how long they took, no matter how many heaving breaths I had to take, I could do 3 more reps.
During week 2 I had what I think is the closest I've ever had to an out-of-body experience. It was as if I was watching someone else perform the agonizing reps while I talked myself through the rest of the set: "Breathe, good, deeper, you've got this, next rep, nice. Keep going".
Breathing is the key. The book talks at length about the importance of deep breathing throughout the set. Pretty quickly, I found that deep breathing was the only way to keep from passing out or collapsing mid set, though as I said, deep breathing becomes automatic about halfway through the set (there's simply no other way to stay upright with the weight on your back). A very helpful tip from the book is to suck in an extra gulp of air on top of your already full lungs for each of the last reps.
If all this sounds a bit exaggerated, try the program and see for yourself. But I'm not trying to put anyone off with this description, quite the opposite! The great thing about Super Squats is that the difficulty of the squats is directly proportional to the feeling of giddy elation upon completing the set. I always felt great after the set, and rode the feeling of accomplishment for the rest of the day. The program really pushes you beyond the boundaries of what you think you can do.
My Progress:
I started the squats at quite a low weight of just 40kg. The book recommends erring on the side of starting too light, and then adding more weight if needed, so that is what I did. Remember, the program stipulates a minimum increase of 5lbs/2.5kgs per workout, but there's nothing saying you can't add more. Once I realized the weight was too light (I managed 21 reps for the first workout) I simply increased the weight by 10kgs on the second workout and continued with the 2.5kg increases from there.
Before starting Super Squats I had had a two week break from training due to illness, so I started with too-low weights (I exceeded the target rep range on all exercises). So I increased the weight by 5-10kgs depending on the exercise for the second workout. The program has varying set numbers and rep ranges for different exercises. As a general rule, I increased the weight once I could hit the target rep range for the first two sets of each exercise, but I did not stick to this rule every workout.
The only thing I stuck to was the minimum increase of 2.5kgs for the squats every workout. I managed this consistently until the final week, when I failed on the eccentric of the tenth rep with a weight of 77.5kgs (a 5kg increase on the previous workout). My legs just gave way and I could not get back up. I did two more sets to make sure that I at least performed more total reps than the previous workout. Then, in the last workout, I amazed myself by succesfully performing all 20 reps with the same weight. Definitely the hardest set I have ever done, and I was completely finished afterwards, but the highlight of the program for sure.
Other ups and downs: I lost reps on Bench and Bent-over Rows on both workouts of week five, but got them back in week six and set new PRs on both. A good reminder that progress is rarely linear. My left knee started hurting in the last week, but thankfully the pain hasn't persisted. I guess my form might have broken down a bit too much in one of the last workouts.
Diet:
The book's diet advice is very simple: lots of calories and protein, with the majority coming from healthy whole food sources. Nothing surprising there. The book has two recommendations in addition to meals for achieving these goals: milk and shakes. The book doesn't use the GOMAD acronym, but that's basically what it boils down to: a recommended minimum of 2 quarts (about 2 litres) per day in addition to meals and snacks, with a recommendation to increase to up to a gallon (nearly 4 litres) per day if you can.
I was somewhat surprised to see that the book recommends home-made mass gainer shakes for trainees who struggle to eat enough solid food (the book refers to them as "blender bombs" which I think sounds much cooler).
I am not vegetarian, but I don't eat meat very often. I live with my fiancee, who doesn't like meat, and since we eat dinner, the main meal of the day, together, we eat a lot of plant-based meat substitutes. I did, however, eat meat more often than usual during the program. My typical diet looks something like this:
Breakfast: Usually muesli, with seeds, fruit (apple or banana), yoghurt, and a scoop of unflavoured whey protein.
Lunch: Usually eggs, fried or scrambled in butter, served with wilted spinach on wholemeal toast or with pasta and pesto. If not eggs then leftovers from last night's dinner. My local supermarkets do a rangle of reasonably healthy frozen meals and during the program I ate these a couple of times per week, always going for chicken dishes with plenty of vegetables.
Dinner: Something based around the aforementioned meat substitutes. Favourites include spaghetti bolognese (with plenty of cheese of course), chili with black beans, sour cream and guacomole served with rice, and burgers with fries for a "junk"/"dirty" option.
I don't count calories but I do roughly track protein, aiming for 2g per kg bodyweight and topping up with whey protein as needed.
During Super Squats, I upped my creatine dosage from 3.5g/day to 5g/day, added extra snacks to the above diet (nuts, dark chocolate etc.) and also milk and shakes as the book suggests. For the first three weeks I had a daily shake consisting of whey protein, milk, cocoa powder, banana, peanut butter and oats. The shakes helped with weight gain, but they proved unsustainable, as they led to some, er, digestive issues. Ok, they gave me explosive diarrhoea. See [this review of Super Squats](https://empire-barbell.com/2021/07/23/super-squats-review-of-the-legendary-20-rep-squat-program/) in which the author recounts ingesting a shake according to the book's recipe before starting a work shift and shitting himself during the shift, lol.
I hadn't really drank milk for several years prior to the program (I tend to prefer oat milk with my muesli) but I did increase my milk consumption slowly over the six weeks. For most of the duration I drank a couple of glasses per day, totalling only about 500ml -1 litre. Only in the last week did I make a serious effort to drink at least 2 litres per day. Turns out it's really easy to drink a lot of milk, and a very cost-efficient way to get lots of extra calories and protein. Who knew haha.
Rest and Recovery:
I've been having trouble sleeping lately, which was the reason I opted to do the program 2 days per week from the beginning (the book recommends starting with 3 days and dropping down to 2 if you find you can't recover sufficiently between workouts). I was a very deep sleeper as a child but those days are long gone and these days the slightest noise seems to be enough to wake me. My fiancee gets up early for work during the week (her alarm goes off at 4:45am), ivariably waking me before it does her, and we have a cat, who tends, as cats do, to go crazy in the small hours (her new favourite thing is scratching frantically on the closet doors). I've tired everything I can think of short of getting rid of the cat, which I'm not willing to do for the sake of gains. Hopefully she will mellow as she gets older. If nothing else, I guess it's good practice for when we become parents lol. Suffice to say it's rare that I get an uninterrupted 8 hours of sleep.
I tried to do everything within my power to get as good sleep as I could (making an effort to get to bed earlier, playing with the cat to tire her out, etc.). I still made good gains despite overall poor sleep, but there were definitely some days when I could have gotten to bed earlier.
What I liked about the program:
Super Squats is a simple, easy-to follow program which is practically guranteed to lead to growth. The non-negotiable nature of progression from workout to workout gives a strong incentive to eat enough and get enough rest. I seriously can't see how someone could follow this program, increasing the weight as prescribed, and not grow.
Another thing I liked was making significant progress over a short timeframe while only training 2 days per week, leaving more time for life outside the gym.
By far the biggest benefit of the program, hower, is the lessons it imparts and the mental toughness it inculcates. Lessons you can only learn by standing under the crushing weight of the bar for 20 reps. Put simply, you are capable of more than you think you are, and this program teaches you that in a way that words never could. I feel that I now inderstand intensity as a training variable far more deeply than I did before the program. After running Super Squats I understand why it is so often recommended to beginners.
What I didn't like about the program:
The individual workouts took far too long. This was by far the biggest thing I disliked about the program. The book claims that the Basic Routine should take less than an hour to complete, but I found that I rarely completed a workout in less than 90 minutes, and several times it took me a full 2 hours. Granted, this was partly due to training in a busy McGym, where waiting for equipment is often a factor, and I feel like I spend half my life searching for locking collars, but even so, the long workouts were grinding. Another big factor is just how exhausted you are after that set of squats. I often felt like I was moving in slo-mo, with the stiff-legged deadlifts (themselves no easy exercise) and calf and ab work still to get through.
The other main negative factor was how daunting the squats are. I rarely looked forward to workouts, and often actively dreaded them. I really had to psyche myself up to go to the gym on this program, despite knowing that I would feel great after my workout. That next set of squats was always looming ahead menacingly.
What I would do differently:
The biggest thing I would change is doing the milk properly from the beginning. By "doing the milk" I mean drinking at least the recommended 2 quarts per day. I would also probably leave the shakes out, and make an effort to eat cleaner. I kind of gave myself free reign to cut corners and do what it takes to gain on the program (spooning peanut butter from the jar and ice cream from the tub, eating "junk" meals like burgers and fries or frozen pizzas a couple of times a week, etc.).
I would have chosen a different abs exercise. I did hollow-body crunches, but since these can't be loaded (as far as I know) I had to resort to adding extra reps and then an extra set to add progressive overload. It would have been smarter and more time-efficient to simply choose a weighted abs exercise and increase the load each workout.
I could have been more diligent about consistenly increasing weight/reps on all exercises other than the squats. I feel my progress on the other lifts could have been better.
The book does not mention cardio, and in fact states that trainees should move as little as possible outside of training to allow for maximum recovery. I will definitely add some light cardio in the form of walking the next time I run the program (thanks to u/MythicalStrength for pointing out that since the program is based on old-school principles, it is likely assumed that pretty much everyone would have been doing a fair bit of walking before lifestyles became so sedentary in developed countries). Over the weekend between weeks five and six my mother came to visit, and in the course of showing her around my city I did a lot of walking that weekend (15k steps each day). I think this may have contributed to the failure on the first workout of week 6 by eating into my recovery. Ideally, I would just do, say, a 30-40 minute walk on off days throughout the program.
Most of all, I would trust the process. Of course this is easy to say with hindsight, but there was a point in weeks 3-4 where I got quite demotivated, felt like I coudn't notice the program working (of course not - visual changes take longer than a couple of weeks!) and felt quite tired out from all the eating, so I ended up eating a bit less for about a week in the middle of the program, which quite possibly contributed to the strength losses in week 5. Again, progress isn't linear, but if you stick to the program over six weeks it will pay off.
Conclusion/Next Steps:
Running Super Squats over the last six weeks has been without a doubt the most physically and mentally challenging thing I have ever done, but the payoff has been well worth it. 4kgs gained in 6 weeks and invaluable lessons learned. I'm going to have to go clothes shopping and replace most of my wardrobe. Shirts and T-shirts that were loose are now tight, and my old slim-fit T-shirts now look comically small. Even my straight-leg jeans are now tight fitting (my fiancee said the other day, "Those jeans are a bit tight on you now, huh? But your bum looks great!").
Being on the taller side, I still have quite a lot of frame to fill out, and I still have a lot to learn about training. I will definitely be running Super Squats again in future. I am especially interested in running the Abbreviated Program, consisting of only the squats, pullovers/Rader chest pulls, bench, and bent-over rows. This would solve the problem of workouts being too long, but I imagine it would be extremely challenging, since you should increase the weight on all exercises each workout, not just the squats. With bench and bent-over rows offering less overall muscle fibre recruitment than squats, and 2.5kgs being the smallest weight increase logistically possible (in my gym, anyway), I imagine that this would be challenging in the extreme.
The book suggests running a strength-building training block after the 20-rep squat program, consisting of more sets with lower rep ranges. It even suggests alternating between six weeks on the 20-rep squat program and six on the strength-building program, extending Super Squats well past the initial six weeks. While this approach is intriguing, I want to try something different, and I would rather have more training days in the week in return for shorter individual workouts.
I've ordered a copy of 5/3/1 and will probably run 531 for Beginners, and then see which template I run after that. I have my eye on the BBB Beefcake 3 Month Challenge, but I'll see when I get there. For now, I'm going to dial back on the eating, to around maintenance levels, for at least a couple of weeks (I need a break from stuffing myself all day).
In the meantime, I can't recommend Super Squats enough! You will surprise yourself on this program.
Well, that turned into a huge wall of text. Thanks very much for taking the time to read if you got this far!

hi! so i (21F) dream of becoming an actress. i’ve been doing small stuff and i’ve been taking classes at a small theatre school in my town.
as i’m also a university student i just send stuff for some castings when i can.
well, back in january i sent my stuff for a casting and didn’t get picked but the webpage where i saw the casting (which i’d say is the main one in my country and i believe it’s sort of associated with the government so i guess it’s pretty reliable?) contacted me today.
they have a plan where you pay and they make you a profile in a database where acting companies reach you because they are looking for someone with your specific profile (instead of you reaching to them for a casting). they said my profile was pretty demanded for two campaigns and they also said they select themselves the people they want in the database (even though you are the one who pays).
they’ve been insisting a lot and i don’t know if this kind of stuff is legit or if they say this to everyone so as to obtain some benefit.
can anyone help me with this??? is this a great opportunity or not really? thanks :(

"Explain your past, Musa" the gov'ness walks at my right, shielding my from the piercing sun as we walks with the caravan. After the trench was dismantled, we are walking by foot to reach the capital, as the trench-line have been pushed far into our homeland.
"I was a cook when the war started, gov'ness" and now I am left wondering why did she chose me from anyone else in the caravan, there's the sergeant, the whom she asked to see earlier today.
"You have been trusted to cook rations for your company, as early as the war?" her baroque companion, similarly donned in her armor, walks close by ours, but never overtook us.
"No, gov'ness, I was a 10 years old when the war started, the war went for seven years and I fought for the last two" before she came, with weapons of the stars that could've decimate my trench instead of theirs
"Such a young man you are, seven years ago, the Emperor grants me audience, revealing that I was his progenitor"
This talk about an "imperium" across the stars and the deified emperor has gotten me worried. Is that her reason for talking to me, to ease my pain before sending me to the stars far from here? Or simply an act of pity?
The meager town came into view, and was it not for the ancient structure, we would've thought this was anywhere but the capital. Gray skies and beaten earth have become the synonym for the heart of Nagorow.
"I must say, this was not our expectation when your leader came into contact with my ship, begging for salvation" the gov'ness depart from me, and my instinct was to follow her, but who am I to her? And so I stay put and follow the rest of the caravan back to the main camp.
"You're lucky to have an audience with the Lady, runt" one of gov'ness' companion knocked me to the dirt, assuming that he's doing it out of spite and jealousy. I can see him walking to gov'ness
"I apologize for my companion's doing" another of gov'ness', as he extends his fingers that allowed me to stand to my feet "Lucius was indeed jealous, he was our best melee combatant and our Primarch haven't even bat an eye for him"
"Is that a rare thing?" Lucius and the gov'ness seems to enter the structure, doing their business there. I quickly glance at my watch, the gray sky seems to be forever, and it shows 1641. And I quickly look back at the gov'ness companion
"It is, perhaps Mother saw something within you, perhaps yours was interesting at the moment" the giant release his helmet, letting his bronze hair free from the confine "I am Rylanor, pleasure to meet you, Musa"
"As is mine, gov'nor"
The Sejm was delightful in seeing Fulgrim and her companions, as well as the news of the apparent victory on the frontlines. Such delight warrants them to spent their moneys on a grand feast right at the capital, inviting everyone within range to attend, with the guest of honor being the gov'ness herself.
"I would have thought you are with Mother, Musa" Rylanor brought two plates in his palm, the plate whom was enough for me was made miniscule by his hands, each contained meager food they could thrown
"Thanks, gov'nor" the feast gives us chair to sit, yet here I stand with him, outside of the building. Somehow the gov'nor chose to make a companion out of me, whilst gov'ness over there busy herself with her empire in the suns.
"I almost forgot what a food taste, Musa, back in the campaign, we would be served liquid ration with occasional starch" I took a look at him, and his plate was already cleaned
"You should try my cooking then, I cook better"
We let a simple laugh from the situation, from a soldier to another, from a human to another too. The door barges open and whom I thought to be Lucius emerge, escaping the feast.
"It's obnoxious inside, Rylanor, if you wish to see me, then don't, I'm heading to the nearest landing coordinate" and went he goes, somewhere place only he, gov'nor and gov'ness know. Something that I would not understand no matter how much gov'nor taught me.
"I have to agree with dear Lucius there" and speak of the gov'ness, and she shall came, looking at the horizon "they barely separate the nobility and the peasant"
I didn't mean to stare, but gov'ness wore something fine, something you'd see from paintings high in temple's ceiling, an ascendant of man. Looking carefully, it seems she wore old Nagorovian dress and modify it to suit her stature, or rather, her figure. She need not a corset, it seems.
"The food is delectable, Mother" Rylanor already took my plate without my knowing, something that I relent
"Every food is delectable when you are starved of them, dear Rylanor"
We all watched as a star suddenly rose at the horizon, perhaps something to do with Lucius and his departure. I suppose this is our future, being shackled by another uncaring emperor to fight the dangers of mankind.
"Say, Rylanor, but does that star seems approaching us?" and behind Lucius' ascend, a second star indeed looks as if its getting nearer. Just before I respond, nor gov'nor did for that matter, the air raid sirens blare and screech
"It is too late to dodge the missile, Mother, and I am the only one still wearing my armor, I would suggest taking a shield behind me" Rylanor easily stood and tower over us. I didn't even wait as I quickly take cover.
"Don't be ridiculous, Rylanor, these brutes couldn't even muster the technology to weaponize simple nuclear reaction" Rylanor didn't wait and cover me with his entire figure, and I just prayed that whatever nuclear is nor what reaction it cause would not be as devastating as I'd fear.
The moment of impact was blurry, but there was an apparent pain riddled to it, as the temperature rose akin to a sun blasting us with the heat. Like what was drilled into my head, I quickly wrap my entire face with anything, covering up the assuredly loud aftermath and the shrapnel flying around. I couldn't hear
And I wish I wouldn't hear
By the time the air around began to cool, my throat was hoarse, as if I have been shouting the entire time. It wasn't until I noticed the spasmic movement on my mouth that I realized, I have been barking around.
"At ease, gov'nor, at ease lads" I chanted
"It seems it was a nuclear explosion, Mother, albeit a primitive version of it" Rylanor seems to ignore my rant, addressing the gov'ness instead. He then release me, before coughing up liquids right at my face "apologies" he mumbles
"Be damned your humor, Rylanor" I hear the gov'ness, rasping in breath as I slowly gather my senses "Musa, you lived it seems" my eyes were blinking rapidly, due to the heat and the dust it caused "oh Rylanor, I apologized for your condition".
When my eyes fully recovered, I saw only desolation. No Man's Land was gentler than this, water and mud found refuge within them after all. But what I saw was beyond it, ruins and dry earth, trees and building charred, and people would likely evaporate. Peoples, on whom I was fighting with and fighting for, for two damned years. I couldn't take it anymore, first Maria and now this? Fate was far too cruel
Liquid barge through my mouth, followed close by every air in my lungs and waters in my eyes. There was no rythym, only that I was doing it in instinct, lying on all fours at the stairs near the gov'nor and gov'ness.
Only then did I brave to stand up, looking at them and the impact it caused. Gov'nor seems to be stuck in his place, unable to move as his hair rotted away and flesh melts to his armor. Now I understand why did he puke. The gov'ness was way less impacted, as her clothing burnt with the flesh on her skins, with her lying on her back.
"Cease your staring, Musa" she quickly commanded
"Yes ma'am" I quickly slap my cheek, a soldier need to finish his duties until the bitter end, and the enemy was no better after all "orders, gov'ness?"
"You're waiting for my orders?" she slowly sat herself, throwing out blood from her mouth while her arms sizzle and creates smoke "so it seems, help me get to one of landing coordinates" when she did sat, she saw her own legs, crushed from the debris of the railings and burnt to crisp "it seems I would have to relegate the matter of combat to you"
"Private Musa at the ready, gov'ness" so soon to serve this faraway empire, and my first duty is to escape the chaos that will ensue. And first, I need to find a cart or I will be carrying the giant on my back
"Musa, before you go" Rylanor rasp and wheeze as he reach for something, before he carved it with letters and numbers "you are familiar with latitudes and longitudes of your planet, I assume, and if not then you can ask Mother for direction" he gave me the knife, on which he have engraved numbers.
"And what will happen to you, gov'nor?" I took the knife and pocket it, then looking back at the gov'ness
"I will be fine, Musa, all I ask is that you deliver Mother there to the place, and rest assured that you will be awarded"
I ignore the last part, something about the futility in wealth and glory that I realized, living as a cook my entire life before becoming a soldier taught me that. I quickly strip my clothing, and though I have to face the cold soon, finding the gov'ness means of transportation is more valuable. I quickly wrapped the gov'ness legs with a shirt, then I cut another of my shirt into pieces before I wrapped it at her so I can carry her off, my suspender helped in holding her together too
"Something tells me I won't enjoy the journey" Fulgrim murmurs as she rest on my shoulder
"Be safe Mother, I pray that Musa will be sufficient to you"