Welcome letter template family reunion

I've been a manager at a company for three years now. Our department has been through one Director who left a year into my tenure. Now we have another who just joined.
At the start, I was ecstatic. Based on the conversations we had, I really liked her management style. She is systems oriented, as I am. Excited to prove myself and help her get up to speed, I shared all of my strategies, plans, and templates with her.
I had really high hopes.
Then, my insubordinate underling who has been issued two warnings acted up when she wasn't around to witness. She twisted things I'd said to paint me as the bad guy. New director informed me that she'd be transferring the subordinate out from under me. I only directly manage her, so now I have no one below me and the insubordinate underling has effectively been promoted.
Next, new director hired a new colleague, Assistant Manager for a different Manager, and pushed me to send her critical work before she'd joined. She didn't complete it, naturally. I honestly don't blame her, I wouldn't have either. But deadline was "yesterday," and I couldn't contain my frustration and dismay. New colleague read my frustration at the situation as a personal attack and launched her own vendetta against me.
New director praises me to my work to my face, but allows the new, lower level colleague's opinion to override mine. She also takes my material and area of responsibility and discusses it behind doors with my manager, a different department head, and the new colleague. Basically, I'm being sidelined. Or I feel like I am.
I feel really down on my luck and don't know how to recover from this low place.
I'm seriously considering applying for new jobs, but I've had a look at availabilities and it's looking pretty sparse.
I'm not usually one to sit and wallow in self pity, but the BS is really piling up. And I'm not perfect, but I generally have an immaculate personal professional record. No one has ever lodged a complaint against me except one manager ages ago who was upset that I applied for a position in a different department. She was insane and would get into screaming matches with other colleagues. That was 8-9 years ago during the early stages of my career.
If you were my mentor, what would you advise? Any advice welcome.

Hi Psychiatry,
Registrar here (not in psych but I love your specialty and did a few rotations in it as a resident). I was hoping to get the opinion of this community on a well known influencer psychiatrist - Dr K - who livestreams "therapy" sessions (that he claims are not therapy) with "patients" (he claims there is no patient:doctor relationship).
These people are usually other well known internet personalities. Some of them have serious mental health issues. One of the people that he livestreamed sessions with committed suicide approx 4 years ago.
Some background on Dr K:
He's a Harvard trained psychiatrist, streamer and gamer who runs the channel healthygamergg.
https://youtube.com/@healthygamergg?si=8cUKfg_WoAa-43un
He's very popular. He was recently on Dr Mike, he has been on Diary of a CEO etc. He has a business website where he sells modules on various mental health conditions / topics, and he also seems to offer a paid mental health "coaching" service.
He makes a lot of free educational content about mental health, complementary medicine, meditation etc. He seems to livestream a lot of this content, and his audience often ask him questions in real time that he can respond to, and they will send him money during the stream which will pop up on the stream etc. The usual streamer stuff. Afterwards the streams are available to watch at any time on YouTube.
Some of his content is really good, informative, and engaging.
Some is not so good... almost subtly anti-psychiatry. He states he tries to avoid medication in psychiatry, that medication doesn't really work better than non-pharm interventions but that it's "easy", that most of his patients (70% in fact) aren't on medication - I guess it depends on your case mix as to whether that's appropriate. He misrepresents guidelines on ADHD, claiming that stimulants are no more efficacious than non stimulants and that medication for ADHD is no better than psychotherapy alone.
He is also a proponent of aryuvedic medicine.
But the main issue I wanted to get the opinions of this community on is his live streaming of what are essentially therapy sessions.
He gives (what I feel are tactical) disclaimers that this isn't therapy, and that he is not their doctor. But his interactions with them bear many hallmarks of a therapeutic relationship - he takes a history, he gives opinions on diagnoses, he engages in what clearly seems to be psychotherapy during the sessions etc. The patients often make comments that make it pretty clear that they think it's therapy.
Probably the most concerning example is his live streamed sessions with another streamer (name of "Reckful") who went on to complete suicide after these sessions.
He was an incredibly vulnerable person with multiple risk factors for suicide. I don't at all think his suicide was linked to these sessions, I want to be clear about that.
Nevertheless, Dr K livestreamed multiple "sessions" with reckful where they went through his mental health (bipolar 2, history of significant trauma) and family history (a brother who completed suicide) on stream, he questioned reckfuls former diagnosis of bipolar 2, he suggested that he may have features of BPD instead and made the very odd claim that the best treatment for BPD is being loved by someone in a relationship for two years. He also engaged Reckful in psychotherapy methods (imo) during stream.
Reckful presented as a very vulnerable at risk patient multiple times during stream. He disclosed to Dr K that he is severely depressed and so desperate for human interaction that he would even pay to have people around / be his friend... to me that alone would have given me pause regarding this person's capacity to even consent to doing these sessions in front of a live audience of thousands.
A particularly hard to watch moment was when Reckful read a letter out on stream that his dad wrote about finding out that his son (reckfuls brother) had committed suicide. Reckful is crying and barely able to speak during some of this time. I can't believe that Dr K thought it was appropriate to livestream this.
Here's a video compilation of some of Dr K's sessions with Reckful and other people. The person who put the clips together apparently really hates Dr K but the clips speak for themselves really, regardless of the motivations of the poster.
https://youtu.be/tSMNGZ1dHUQ?si=6aLhmsmY3NT9bKsh
For anyone who wants to watch all the full length sessions here is a link to the playlist:
https://youtu.be/tSMNGZ1dHUQ?si=6aLhmsmY3NT9bKsh
Here is Dr K responding to the suicide.
https://youtu.be/NDZRLHIQUEM?si=UldjGIl6H1HVPuhh
Am I just old fashioned and out of touch? Is what he is doing actually completely kosher and not at risk at all of being perceived as therapy, and I'm actually just being hysterical? Or am I right and is he exploiting vulnerable people for content while hiding behind the claim of this not being therapy and as such avoiding any pesky duty of care considerations.
I'd be very appreciative of your thoughts :)

How does it feel that you’re living the last years of your life being homeless, living in and out of motels. You’re at retirement age with no money or peace. Your husband’s in jail and you and your family probably won’t welcome him back. Your children don’t care enough to properly give you the medicine that you need. You raised children that are failures and degenerates. Of course you say that your children are successful and innocent, but really you are just coping. You can’t stand the reality of it and you’re trying to convince yourself otherwise. Marie?, In the later years of your life, do you regret anything?

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Long story comes, I appreciate if anyone reads it and tries to make sense of it.
I'm a beginner writer and I met this girl on FB, in a beta-writer group. I needed a beta reader to find grammatical mistakes, logical issues etc in my works, and she was one of my readers. It's not really a rule but a basic gesture to return the favor, so I also offered her to be her beta reader - she and I did it this many people over the years.
I really liked the way she was writing. She said that she likes my works as well. We both decided that we will just automatically read each others stories if one of us would need a beta, and we did that... for about 4 years.
In the last 2 years I started to really like her. At first we were only talking about writing, but later we opened up in front of each other. She was into classical literature, like I was. She liked to watch anime, like I did, she liked the same genres in books, she liked to talk about interesting and deep things. I literally thought I met a soulmate, and I confessed her this.
Some people would say that being in the "friendzone" is a horrible thing, but that was literally my aim. I can't really imagine myself marrying anyone, I just wanted a friend, who shares common ideas and values. We became friends. We met two times, once in a medieval fair, and once because she told me that if I every go to the capital city, we might meet - so we did. She sent me a little package with a cute letter for my birthday as well. It was a little bit weird, because after this, I wanted to do the same, but when I asked about her birthday, she was angery and said it's not my business and then later she apologized it. She said she doesn't like to talk about it. I didn't push the subject anymore.
Then, after the 2nd meeting, she went totally silent for 3 days. That day was one of the best days in my life, we were walking in the streets, talking, she showed me a japanese tea shop, and showed me how to navigate in the city. Then I went home, I sent her pictures and informations about a anime shop in city she didn't know about. Complete silence.
After 4 days she wrote me a long message about her feelings - that I'm too much, she didn't tell the truth about most things and she didn't consider me as a kindred spirit. I was so devastated I was literally crying and felt like I was betrayed like hell. She said it's weird that I was writing to her girlfriend and I write so much to her, while she is much younger (she was just 18, I was 26).
This is where I was really shocked. I understood that I could be annoying - I'm passionate about the things I like, especially when it comes to books, games or movies. Sometimes I realized that I was writing too much - I always apologized for it, and I told her if she ever find this annoying, just tell me. SHE NEVER DID. She even said she found it funny and amusing.
The 2nd shocking thing was her age. I wasn't aware of of the age gap because she NEVER told me about it. My age was public. Her data was private, because that's how she liked it. And she gave many fakes informations about herself on her page - like that she was married. I understood it, she was tired of guys trying to hit on her. I started to figure out of it after a ton of conversations, and she admitted it. I still never tried to hit on her. I considered her as a great friend. THEN she suddenly says that I'm weird for writing someone much younger? BUT HEY, she was hiding her age from me... she didn't write about it on her FB, and she denied to tell me when I asked about it (for her birthday, as I said earilier).
3rd shock: I literally wrote her girlfriend only twice, and beacuse of 2 reasons. First reason: she was the only person I knew on FB beside her. Second reason: I wanted to gift the girl a similiar letter for her birthday, and I decided to send it to her anyways, even if I don't know her age or the current data. I asked her girlfriend's opinion about it - if it would be a mistake or not. She strongly advised me NOT TO DO IT. So I DIDN'T DO IT.
She also said that many times I didn't care about her opinions when she gave me advices about my writings. I literally told her that if she'd EVER re-read any chapters I sent to her after correction, she'd see that I corrected every grammatical mistakes and more than half of her suggestions were put into the story. There was no single case where I ignored anything she said! I just didn't change EVERYTHING the same way she wanted, because after all, in some questions I had more knowledge about the subject than she had.
I wrote a long message and explained this all to her. She admitted she was wrong about not telling me her real age. She said she shouldn't use me like this, but I didn't understand her problem. I never wanted to be more than a friend. I never crossed any line, and didn't even intended to do it in the future. WHY was she pushing me away, after these years?
She said she needs to concentrate on exams and she doesn't have time for me. I literally said I don't care. She can text me whenever she wants, daily, 3 days later, a week later... but why the hell would she break the connection? She said that I was too much. She said she tried to tell me this, but she felt pity because I was kind, and also for a time, she truly believed that we are similiar. I was so in rage I just told her she betrayed my trust so much I can't go just leave without knowing the truth: would she ever consider me as a friend, or she'd like to totally cut all the ties? She said "I never wanted to be friends in the first place". She also said the personal things she shared me, like her problems with her family, were not that serious that she wouldn't tell it to anyone. She also said that sending me that letter for my birthday wasn't special either, she'd do it for anyone - which is really weird, because I never met anyone who would do this for someone "stranger".
I told her to just delete me or block me if she doesn't want anything from me ever, because I really thought that I SAW the real person behind her mask. And I'd never break this bond only beacuse of her lies. I liker her personality and believed that she was either manipulated by someone against me, or she just had a really hard situation in her life and she was confused.
SHE NEVER DELETED ME. She never said that "i want to end this right now". And she still wanted to be professional in a way, so we could still be beta readers to each other.
After months of silence, when I refused to write to her and tried to collect my thoughts, I could calm myself and agreed to it. I told her that Idk what's going on in her mind, but I'd be there as a FRIEND, and I'd still like to be a beta for her as well.
That's our current situation. And I'm confused, because we are still doing everything we did before. Outside of writing, we still talk about our common interests. We still talk about books and serieses. We still joke with each other, sending memes, etc. NOTHING CHANGED, basically, after her "episode". And I just don't understand anything. Of course, a part of me likes this, because we are still "friends". However, I never understood the reason she once tried to break this "relationship", and there is always a chance that it might happen again, and I wouldn't see it coming. I just can't figure out what did I do wrong. What did I say that I shouldn't... or was it just an "episode", beacuse of some difficulty in her life, and it wasn't my fault at all?
You need to understand, she is deeply imporant to me, because I never thought I'd find a person like her. I'd never thought I'd find a girl who likes "nerdy" things, likes to dress in victorian era clothes for fun, and likes to have deep conversations about books, characters and real life. I'd never imagine that I'd find a person who loves Lucy Montgomery's Anne, and I'd never thought I'd find someone who sees life in a similar way I do.
I might be wrong tho, I'm slightly autistic, and I'm aware of it. I'm aware that I can be too much or weird, but it's not like I can help it. But I never failed to notice when I was wrong, I always tried to correct it. Or when i didn't notice it, I appreciated when someone noted it.
So, you, who dared to read this huge mess... what do you think? What will be the future of this "relationship"? What did I do wrong previously, for real... Or only she saw things that wasn't real? What should I do... just keep acting like nothing happened, and forgive everything, like how I would like to?

When the edged wind came to our village, it seemed like a typical Alaskan gust. One fitting for late December. Then, as the tall tide of frost lashed against the shore of our home, the sagging branches of the yellow cedar trees stopped bouncing. And I abandoned the idea of the breeze being a breeze at all.
Once others understood that, the time for running had passed.
The unholy wind reached the village’s main road, causing two moving cars to sharply and statically stop. The vehicles were frozen in place, much like the people within those metal graves. Onlookers, enjoying a brisk afternoon in the park, began to scream loved ones succumbed to that supernatural end. Imprisoned in a capsuled moment of time.
Those first few victims were the lucky ones. They’d been oblivious to the fate which awaited them. True terror was endured by those who beheld the raw power of the wind. Those unfortunate enough to see the end coming.
Regardless, the remaining townsfolk, burdened with the awareness of impending doom, futilely attempted to escape the approaching breeze. Those fleeing residents, far slower than the unnatural frost, were halted in haunting poses as the wind bit into them. Limbs were suspended in mid-air positions. Eyes were left wide and unblinking. Mouths were cursed to forever gape in horror.
“RUN!” Dad screamed, sprinting towards us from a nearby park bench.
My brother, my childhood friend, and I were sitting in a sandbox. Already engrossed in a fantasy world, I wondered whether my imagination had conjured the wind. I thought my mind had transcended to a higher plane. It was my way of processing the trauma.
However, I accepted the reality of the situation when my father shoehorned the three of us into his Volkswagen Golf. The icy jaws of the wind were nearly nipping at the rear of the vehicle as Dad twisted the key in the ignition, but the beat-up car rapidly lurched forwards. My father wrenched us away from the frost, seconds before it consumed us.
“Daddy, where are we going?” I tearfully asked.
“I don’t know, Jillian,” He weakly moaned, manoeuvring around fleeing cars and pedestrians.
“Are we picking up Mummy?” Alan asked.
Dad ignored my brother’s question. I was only eight years old at the time, but I knew that my mother wasn’t coming. I understood the significance of the tears in my father’s eyes.
For twenty-six years, I successfully managed to suppress that memory. Did such a good job, in fact, that I almost believed it had all been a dream. I started to believe that we had simply moved away from our hometown, and Mum had simply chosen to stay. Dad never convinced me otherwise. He never talked about what happened. Neither did my brother.
As for Leon, he moved to an orphanage in Anchorage. We wrote to each other for a couple of years, but his replies became less and less frequent. Eventually, he stopped responding entirely. I used to wonder why my father didn’t adopt my childhood friend, but I suppose that would have forced him to accept what happened. And, like me, he had no intention of doing that.
I thought we would run back to England, having failed to achieve the American Dream. But Dad kept us in Alaska. I assumed that he’d been driven by stubbornness. Or guilt, perhaps. We’d already fled our home. Perhaps fleeing across the pond would’ve been a step too far. Perhaps it would’ve felt like truly abandoning our mother. Whatever his reason for staying, Dad didn’t tell anyone the truth. He never went to the police. He never returned to look for Mum.
“Don’t look back, kids,” I remember him whispering as we fled the frost.
I followed that advice for the next couple of decades, only recalling the event for the briefest moments, from time to time. When Dad bought the first computer for our family in 2000, I Googled the name of our old town. I typed the word before realising I was even doing so. I was still young, of course, but I knew that nothing about our speedy departure had been normal. I wanted answers.
I’d expected to discover that my village had become a ghost town. That would have made sense. Alaska’s unforgiving climate breeds desolate places, born to be abandoned. However, the search results revealed nothing, so I told myself I’d imagined the village. I told myself we'd always lived in Anchorage.
As the years passed, I became comfortable with the notion that none of it had ever been real. Not even my mother. And that was why I did not expect to see a certain person again.
“Happy birthday, Jill.”
My jaw dropped when Leon Taylor appeared on my doorstep.
It might seem strange that I would recognise a man who was a child when I last saw him, but Leon always had distinctive features. I immediately identified the mole on his neck, just below his facial scruff, and those sorrowful eyes, shadowed by his unmistakable overgrown brows.
“Leon?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
The man smiled weakly. “Sorry, Jill. I should’ve done this the Millennial way. Y’know. Reconnected through Facebook.”
“No, it’s… I just never thought I’d see you again. Do you want to come inside?” I asked, motioning at the hallway.
Leon nodded, so I made a couple of coffees whilst my old friend seated himself in the living room. A boy who I’d almost forgotten. Almost entirely erased from existence, just like our old town. But I’d always known, just beneath the surface of my shallow memories, that it had all been real. The truth of my childhood was always within reach. As I brought the drinks into the lounge, hands trembling, I tried to dispel the thoughts flooding my mind. Thoughts of that awful day.
“How’s your dad? How’s Alan?” Leon asked, taking the cup of coffee.
I sighed. “Dad’s been unwell for a few years. He hasn’t been taking care of himself, and he’s getting old. As for Alan… Well, Alan’s the way he’s always been. Uptight, and distant, but–”
“– When was the last time you spoke to him?” Leon sharply interjected.
The question caught me off-guard. “Huh?”
“Your brother. When was the last time you spoke to him?” Leon asked.
My face drained. He knows, I thought. How on Earth does he know?
“Three years ago,” I answered.
My old friend nodded. “Did you fall out?”
I scoffed. “That’s an understatement. You remember what he was like when we were kids, don’t you?”
Leon shrugged. “He was two years older than us. We must’ve infuriated him.”
I nodded. “Sure. But I grew up, and he never did. We had a big argument, and we haven't spoken since.”
“Interesting,” He responded.
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a man of few words these days, Leon.”
The man cleared his throat. “Your brother messaged me a week ago.”
My other eyebrow raised. “What?”
“It was a very strange message.”
“Did you reply?” I asked. “I thought you would’ve preferred to ignore it.”
He lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Jillian. I replied to some of your letters…”
“Then you forgot about me,” I said. “It’s embarrassing that I didn’t get the hint.”
“It wasn’t embarrassing,” Leon sheepishly muttered. “I read all of them. Every last letter.”
“Oh, well, that’s great,” I laughed. “Nice to know that you cared.”
“Jillian, I…” Leon paused, lifting his head. “I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked.
“Remembering that day,” He replied. “It’s why I told your dad I didn’t want to come and live with you.”
“It’s… What?” I asked.
Leon tilted his head. “You didn’t know? Did you really think he’d just dump me in that place? He might’ve changed, but your dad was never cold. Still, I refused. Living with you would’ve reminded me of what happened to my family.”
I didn't reply, so my old friend prodded the beast. “Aren’t we going to talk about–”
“– Why did my brother message you?” I interrupted, avoiding the topic.
Leon twitched his lips uncertainly, as if unwilling to part them.
“He told me that I had to see you…” Leon trailed off.
“Right,” I said. “Why?”
“Your brother said something insane, Jillian,” He said. “He claimed that Arnold Walker visited him in Fairbanks.”
My jaw fell. “I beg your pardon? Arnold Walker? My brother’s school friend?”
Leon nodded.
“He escaped? I didn't know others got out,” I whispered.
My old friend’s face was growing paler. “No, I... Your brother said something that seemed impossible. He said that Arnold did not arrive on his doorstep as a thirty-six-year-old man, but a ten-year-old child.”
My stomach dropped. The natural response would’ve been to discredit such an outlandish story, refuting it with a rational explanation. But Leon’s revelation served to do only one thing. It confirmed what I’d always known.
“A ten-year-old boy made it all the way from our hometown to Fairbanks?” I asked meekly.
Leon frowned. “That’s it? You’re not going to question it? I did. I messaged Alan repeatedly, but he never replied.”
“Not a nice feeling, is it?” I asked, sighing. “How did you want me to react, Leon? You were itching to talk about that day. Well, I’m not skirting around the subject now. Let’s talk about it. Okay? I know all of that horror really happened. I’d just never wanted anyone to confirm it.”
“Me neither,” Leon said. “I was trying to avoid your family for the rest of my life. Your brother ruined that.”
“Yeah. He tends to ruin things,” I replied. “So, that’s it? Alan wanted you to tell me about Arnold Walker?”
Leon shivered. “There’s more, but… Look, I know I should’ve messaged you about all of this first, but I thought about the way Alan avoided my questions. I didn’t want you to do the same. I assumed if I were to show up in person, then–”
“– I wouldn’t be able to run away,” I finished. “I understand, Leon. I just hate that my brother is still too childish to talk to me.”
“Funny. He called you childish too. Listening to you two bicker is nostalgic,” Leon smiled, before quickly adopting a solemn expression. “I’m trying to change the subject, but I need to rip off the band-aid. Alan said that Arnold took him to a car on the front lawn. There was a man in the driver’s seat, barely clinging to life, with a face mangled beyond recognition. Your brother said the man’s skin had been peeled from his face… And he was still, somehow, alive.”
I shuddered, vomit climbing my throat.
“Arnold told your brother that the man was Mr Johnson,” Leon whispered.
“The farmer? The one who ran the local grocery store?” I asked, shivering.
My friend nodded. “Yeah. Alan said he’d aged a little. Well, his hair was greyer than he remembered. The pair must’ve been on the road for hours, and your brother didn’t know how they knew where to find him. He had so many questions for them, but Mr Johnson died before the ambulance arrived. And whilst Alan talked to the paramedics, Arnold ran away. He’s missing.”
“Shit…” I whispered. “I’ll call my brother.”
“You might struggle,” Leon said. “Alan ended the message by saying that he was going back… home.”
I gawped. “No. He wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“Maybe not. You should try to contact him,” Leon said. “He hasn’t replied to my dozens of messages, but he might reply to you. Not sure he even has a signal, out there in the boonies, but you’re right. You should try.”
I spent an hour trying to contact my brother, in various ways, but he did not respond. Alan had vanished. And I knew, like it or not, that I had to return to our village too. I should’ve told Dad. Would've told him, had he not been one bad day away from a heart attack. In spite of the man he’d become, I loved him. I didn’t want to remind him of the place we’d fled.
One person should be spared the horror of remembering, I thought.
Leon and I, two strangers who’d spent formative years together, piled into my Kia, and we drove from Anchorage to a place that I’d long hoped had never really existed.
I was going to be horribly disappointed.
On a nondescript road that burrowed into the Alaskan wilderness, my throat started to twist and constrict. The outer edge of my vision shrank, and my head pulsated with a slowing rhythm as the world slipped away from me. I struggled to breathe as I came to terms with an awful fact.
I recognised that endless road.
“Jillian…” Leon whispered.
“Don’t,” I begged.
I didn’t want to hear it. I wasn’t ready. I’d known all along, of course, that our village existed. Even when extensive research had revealed nothing about the town. When I thought of the way the breeze consumed the town, erasing its residents, it made sense that it would erase the very place itself. After all, even I’d started to doubt its existence, and I’d lived there.
Accepting the unearthly nature of the event wasn’t as tough as you might imagine. If anything, I had fought hard to deny it. I wanted to ignore the existence of a paranormal force, though I had witnessed it with my own eyes. Even if there were some Alaskan breeze powerful enough to instantaneously freeze an entire town, we hadn’t witnessed that. We’d seen something else. We’d seen that glacial wind freeze the town. Not its people, but its tether to time.
After an hour of following the frosted landscape, we saw something familiar on the horizon. Leon’s face mirrored mine as our damned village appeared. A bulge of ruin and decay, growing as we neared it. And when we crossed the threshold into the desolate town, the reality of our quest finally dawned on me.
“Where is everybody?” Leon asked.
It might seem a moronic question to an outsider. Our old village was clearly an abandoned place. No rational person would expect anybody else to be there. Of course, I understood Leon. He had asked the same terrifying question that was circling the drain of my mind, refusing to flush away.
I thought back to that terrible day on which hundreds of people froze in time. Then I thought of Arnold Walker and Mr Johnson. The two residents who’d supposedly shown up at my brother’s door. One of them had looked no older than he’d been in 1998.
“Time resumed,” I finally mumbled.
“Yes, but where did everybody go?” My childhood friend asked.
I didn’t have an answer. Neither did my brother, and that was why he’d come here.
That’s not the real reason, I thought. He was hoping to find… her.
I rolled onto my old street, noting that the trees swayed in the wind and birds flew overhead. Signs that time was flowing. I wondered whether others had fled in the same fashion as Arnold and Mr Johnson. I even allowed my heart to soar a little as I considered that my mother might have freed herself. Might have found Dad in Anchorage. Might be wondering where Alan and I had gone.
However, I knew that not to be the case. Mum had not arrived at my door, and there had been no national news coverage about people emerging from a town that didn’t exist. There had only been an old, half-butchered man and a quiet boy. Both were gone. And I had questions about the nature of their escape from our hometown, given my brother’s ominous message to Leon.
Something was still dreadfully wrong with our village. Twenty-six years had not changed that. The people of the village had not disappeared into the sunset. Whatever had happened to them, I knew it wasn’t good. Possibly worse than what happened to Arnold Walker and Mr Johnson.
I pulled onto the driveway of my childhood home, gently trundling over cracked asphalt. Weeds squirmed through the wounds of the suburb, as nature sought to erase my childhood from existence. There was no need for that, of course. The wind of 1998, and whatever secrets it held, had already done a fine job of wiping my hometown from reality.
“Do you think he’s come here?” Leon asked as I turned off the engine.
“Yes. We both know who he wanted to find,” I said.
My childhood friend nodded, and we both sombrely climbed out of the vehicle.
The village was colder than I remembered. For a mid-afternoon day in late May, it was unseasonably chilly. Alaska, for the most part, is not the arctic hellscape that many people imagine. Not in all parts of the state, anyhow, and certainly not in late spring. The air also felt stale. It carried the stench of evil, and it seemed to be tinged with frost. As if that demonic breeze were still lingering in the air, nearly three decades later.
I knocked on the rotten front door, surprised that it did not break with a slight rap of my hand.
“Alan?” I yelled. “It’s Jillian.”
My brother did not respond, but I wasn’t concerned. If he had been there, and Mum hadn’t, then he wouldn’t have wanted to stay. I wanted to use that as an excuse to turn around and leave. I already assumed that my mother wouldn’t be there, but another part of me knew that my assumption was more of a wish. In a similar way, I had been secretly glad to find nobody in the town. There was only one person I hoped to find in my old village, and that was Alan.
I was terrified by the prospect of finding anything else.
“Jill…” Leon started softly. “Come on. We have to do it.”
“Do we?” I asked. “This was a mistake. We should turn around. We–”
“– I agree,” Leon sharply interjected. “But we have to find your brother. And when we do, we’ll convince him to come back with us. We’ll convince him to leave this place behind too.”
“Why did you come to see me, Leon?” I asked. “You could’ve ignored my brother’s message. You could’ve pretended none of this had ever happened. That’s what you did when you started ignoring my letters, isn’t it?”
“I deeply regretted that for years, Jill,” He said softly. “You were my best friend. You were… more than that. We were just kids, but I loved you. I’ve not made another connection like ours. Not even in my adult life.”
“I know,” I replied. “I loved you too, Leon. That’s why it hurt when you let our bond peter out. If you’d cut me off from the start, I would’ve understood. But it just felt like you’d stopped caring.”
“Never. I just lost the strength to bear that trauma,” He explained. “Every letter was a reminder, and I just… That’s why I came to your door. That’s why I didn’t ignore what your brother said. I didn’t want something to happen to him. You lost your mother. I didn’t want you to lose him too.”
“We all lost things,” I sniffled. “You lost… more than me. I just don’t understand why you’d come back. Why my brother would come back. I don’t even understand why I’ve come back.”
“We never really left this place, did we?” Leon asked. “Not in our minds. Even though it doesn’t exist in the eyes of the outside world, it never left us. Never let go. Arnold Walker and Mr Johnson lured Alan back. And he lured us back.”
“That’s an unsettling way of looking at it,” I timidly replied.
“It’s the only way I’ve been able to look at it,” He said. “Whatever claimed this place, it remembered us, and it made sure we remembered it. Not that it would be easy to forget… For years, I thought I’d lost my mind, but after talking to you and Alan, I’m not so sure. I find it hard to believe that we’d have experienced a shared delusion. No, it all really happened. And the memory replays in my mind every day. I’ll never get rid of it.”
“Dad seemed to do a good job of erasing this place from his mind,” I said.
I knew that wasn’t true, of course. He had never forgotten. That was made apparent by his deterioration. Alan and I had a close relationship with our father before we left that village. Afterwards, he changed. We all changed. Losing Mum had fractured the family, but there was more to it than that. I started to consider that Leon might be right. Perhaps the frost hadn’t ensnared the two of us, but it had certainly bitten us.
“Do you want me to do it?” Leon eventually asked.
I wanted to be courageous enough to open the door, but I wasn’t. I nodded meekly and stepped aside, allowing my childhood friend the nightmarish task of facing whatever lay within my old home. He pushed the door handle down, expecting the house to be unlocked, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Shall we try the back?” I asked.
Leon backed up. I quickly realised what he was planning to do, and I opened my mouth to utter a protest. My hulking friend had charged before I spoke a single word, however, and he hurled his body into the door. It quivered in its frame, but did not give.
“Leon!” I cried. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I don’t suppose you have the key?” He panted, massaging his shoulder.
I held up my hands. “Look, let’s just…”
My friend rushed forwards again, and the result was the same. This time, however, Leon released a groan of pain, clutching his arm a little more tightly.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I said. “Let’s take it in turns to kick the door. That'll work better, and it won’t cripple either of us.”
Leon nodded, and the two of us firmly booted the door near the handle. The wood quaked, and it only took a few attacks for the door to splinter around the lock. The frame splayed inwards, and the metal mechanism fell loose.
“Whoops… That worked a little too well,” Leon laughed.
He led the way into my childhood home, which looked, unlike the street outside, the same as I remembered. The same as it had looked on the day I’d left. There were no shoes left by the door. No muddy prints on the carpet. No indication whatsoever that my brother had visited our old home, which I’d gathered when the front door had been locked. But this was not a relief. I knew, in my gut, that Alan would’ve gone there first.
He never made it home.
Leon shivered. “This place feels cold…”
“Frozen,” I corrected. “Frozen in time.”
“Is it safe for us to be here?” He asked. “What if we end up like the others?”
“It’s a bit late to ask that now,” I replied. “The breeze passed long ago. This just seems to be the horror it left behind.”
Leon accepted my suggestion, then he wandered over to the staircase. My friend took one step before halting in place. For a haunting moment, I believed that he had been frozen in time too. I believed that I’d been wrong, and the frost had come for us. But I quickly realised that my friend was still moving. Still twitching. He was frozen by fear, not a supernatural gale.
“There’s someone in the bathroom…” Leon wheezed.
With physical dread in every inch of my body, I joined my friend and looked up. Artificial light spilled beneath the bathroom door onto the dark landing.
“There might not be anyone in there,” I shakily said.
“Jillian, this is an abandoned town. There is no electricity. Your house is still frozen in time, and it froze with the bathroom light left on. Somebody must have been–”
“– Don’t say it,” I pleaded, upper lip trembling.
“Do you want me to lead the way?” He asked.
I didn’t. I wanted to run, but I knew I would never forgive myself for doing so. Leon was right, of course. I hadn’t allowed him to finish his sentence, but it was clear that he was going to mention somebody in particular. Somebody whose face flooded my mind as we ascended the staircase, one tentative step at a time. Somebody whose name started to tickle my lips as Leon grasped the handle to the door.
It wasn’t locked.
“Mum?” I moaned as Leon inched it open.
My ageless mother was inside.
I’m sure I would’ve screamed at whatever we found, but I was not prepared for the state of the statue before me. Mum was standing at the sink, hands cupped below a stream of tap water suspended in time. As I had always feared, the frost caught her. It was horrifying enough to be frozen in time for twenty-six years, whilst the rest of the world continued, but that wasn’t why I screamed. I’d braced myself for that possibility. I’d spent my entire adult life coming to terms with it.
I screamed because I wasn’t prepared to see her face.
Mum was smiling. Not a wholesome smile. It was a taut grin that etched an unnerving crescent shape across her cheeks. There was nothing unnatural about the grin, but it looked painful. And it appeared as if cataracts had taken the entirety of her pupils.
“Mum?” I asked weakly. “Do you hear me?”
There was no reply. I peered around the side of her face, and I immediately regretted it. Though she was frozen in time, she did not look unaware. I felt her sightless eyes boring into my face, and I quickly jumped backwards.
“Let’s go and find your brother,” Leon fearfully said.
As I nodded, backing towards the doorway, I locked my gaze onto my mother’s profile. My heart pounded as I started to close the bathroom door. I was trying to ignore the idea that had wormed into my mind. The possibility that, behind the glassy cataract, a pupil might still exist. Lying dormant. Watching me from a face that no longer seemed to belong to my mother.
After I shut the door, Leon and I took a few moments to control our breathing. With a slight tremble, my friend finally walked over to the light switch and raised a hand, but I caught his wrist.
“What are you doing?” He frowned.
“Leave the light on,” I whispered. “I… don’t like the idea of leaving her in the dark.”
My friend’s expression softened, and he nodded, seeming to understand my explanation. Seeming to empathise. But I was lying. I wasn’t worried about leaving my mother in the dark. I was worried about the thing behind that smiling face.
“Alan didn’t come here,” I said. “Did he really come back?”
“You read the message, Jillian,” Leon replied.
“I know, but…” I sighed. “I know.”
“He might not have come to the house,” My friend suggested.
“This is the first place he would’ve visited,” I said. “If Mum weren’t here, he wouldn’t have returned.”
“Well, let’s look around,” Leon urged. “You never know. We might find something else. Something to help your mother, perhaps.”
“You saw her face,” I whispered. “She looked far past help.”
“Don’t say that, Jillian!” Leon shouted, eyes watering.
You idiot, I thought.
I was so self-centred. So focused on finding my brother and my mother. I hadn’t thought about Leon’s parents. His brother, Carl. People we’d left behind when my father saved us. I remembered Leon sobbing as he begged my father to turn around.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We need to find your family too.”
Leon viciously shook his head. “Only if we find an answer, Jill. Only if we find a way to save them.”
My friend entered my childhood bedroom, and I followed him. I imagine that visiting one’s childhood home is a strange experience for anyone, but strangeness morphs into horror when that home is trapped in a moment of time. I felt physically unwell when I saw the glass of water on the bedside table, fresh as it had been on the day that my dad took us to the park. Life had continued for me, but the town was still trapped in that dreadful, inexplicable day.
“Jillian,” Leon said calmly. “There are people outside.”
He was standing in front of my bedroom window, and when I joined him, eyeing the road below, I saw them. A man and a woman who seemed to be in their mid-forties. The man wore ill-fitting clothes. A chequered shirt two sizes too small, and a pair of torn jeans. The woman, on the other hand, wore a pristine, shapely dress with a floral pattern. She looked oddly familiar, though her eyes were jittery and unfocused. It was the man who’d locked his eyes onto our house.
“I… vaguely recognise her,” Leon said.
I nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know her name, but I remember her. She looks a tad older, perhaps. I don’t know the man though.”
“You stay here,” Leon said, reaching inside his coat. “Don’t come out.”
“What are you holding?” I frowned, noting his shiftiness.
“Just…” Leon concealed his hand within the thick, wintry coat. “Are you going to stay in here?”
My eyes grew as I spotted a glint of metal. “You don’t… No, Leon. Please. Don’t tell me you have what I think you have.”
“We had no idea what we were going to find here,” The man protested.
I scoffed. “Leon Taylor? Carrying a gun? The boy who berated me for killing me a spider.”
Before he replied, there came the sound of the front door swinging open. And when we spun our heads back to the bedroom window, we saw that the man and woman were no longer on the street. I realised they were inside.
“Hello?” Called a man from downstairs. “We mean you no harm.”
“I have a weapon,” Leon yelled, slipping the pistol out of a hidden holster.
“Don’t shoot… It’s Bernie Bradley…” The man shouted weakly.
My mouth gaped. Bernie Bradley was in my brother’s school year. I remembered him. And as I recalled the face of the man I’d seen on the street, I didn’t find it hard to believe it had been the face of that same boy, twenty-six years into the future.
“What do you want?” I yelled.
“To help you,” He replied. “Before they come.”
“Who?” Leon asked.
“I’ll tell you if you put that weapon away,” Bernie said.
“I don’t trust you enough for that,” My friend growled.
“Are you Leon Taylor?” The man asked.
“Why?” Leon responded.
“Sydney Manley pushed you off the swing set, and you called her a fat cow,” Bernie said. “She ran home in tears.”
It wasn’t enough. In a place like that, which defied all laws of rationality, it wasn’t enough for Bernie Bradley to know that. But Leon and I needed it to be enough because we were hopelessly alone. Hopelessly afraid. And hopelessly desperate.
My friend re-holstered his weapon, and we walked onto the landing. Bernie and the woman were midway up the stairs. The man’s hands were raised, but the woman barely seemed aware of where they were. Barely seemed aware of herself.
“Leon Taylor and Jillian Maynard. Is that right?” Bernie asked.
“How did you recognise us?” I asked.
“You were the only ones who escaped,” He replied. “The Maynards and Leon Taylor.”
“The only ones?” Leon asked incredulously.
Bernie nodded. “Others tried, but the frost got them.”
“So, why aren’t you…” I started, unable to finish.
“Mind if we sit down before I answer that?” He asked.
I looked at Leon, and my friend begrudgingly nodded. We all headed to the living room and sat down. Once we did, Bernie Bradley told us an incredible story, and the woman beside him simply rocked on the sofa, face painted with a disturbing smile.
Bernie had been a ten-year-old boy, sitting at his bedroom desk, when the chill swept through his room. He told us that he remembered nothing but a black void. He might’ve been there for an eternity, or it might’ve been less than a moment.
When he woke from that dark slumber, still a ten-year-old boy sitting in the desk chair, Bernie looked out of the bedroom window. He was overcome by the horrible feeling that time had been lost, but he didn’t know how much. And when he saw residents frozen in the street, he realised that something awful had happened. Bernie found his own paused parents in the kitchen, and they were completely unresponsive to his pleas.
The lonely, frightened boy ran through the town, calling for help. Nobody answered. After a long day of searching, he returned to his house in tears. For a week, Bernie lived on cans of food from the cupboards. And then he heard shouting from the street.
“Hello? Is anybody there?” A man called.
Bernie ran outside to find Mr Johnson. The farmer had just woken from ‘a darkness’ to find the town full of statues. Bernie told Mr Johnson that he’d been alone for a week, but he had no idea how long he’d been frozen before that. The boy wanted to leave, but the farmer said they had to save as many people as possible. They had a duty to do so. After all, neither the farmer nor the boy knew what might happen to them if they were to run. The frost might return.
Anyway, Mr Johnson took Bernie under his wing. The crops in his field, thankfully, had unfrozen, as had his entire farmhouse. Mr Johnson fed Bernie, and the two of them survived. A week later, they found Elizabeth Coulter, the local headteacher, wandering through the town. Over the course of the following year, a dozen more unfrozen souls were saved and brought back to Mr Johnson’s farm.
But things changed as time passed. The newer thawed souls were unhinged. The longer a person had been trapped in that black stasis, the less human they became. They were still intelligible, but they spoke only of the voice in the void. A voice that they missed in the land of the living. They were irritable, but Mr Johnson cared for them, all the same. Eventually, they fled.
This only worsened as the years went by. After a decade, Bernie’s mother and father unfroze. However, his dad ran, and his mum only remained because she was lost and confused. She would rant and rave about the Speaker. The one that would make everything better. The one that would make them all eternal.
It was during the year of 2018 that things crossed a terrifying line. Mr Johnson had decided that newcomers were not welcome. It was a decision of necessity, not cruelty. The recently unfrozen folk had become more than unintelligible. They had become dangerous.
“Hark! The Speaker calls!” Walter Frankton screamed.
The middle-aged man, who had once been a police officer, was standing outside Mr Johnson’s farmhouse. When the community of sane people emerged, they screeched at the sight of Walter holding a charred body above his head. Nobody identified the burnt corpse, but Mr Johnson wasted no time in drawing his rifle and giving Mr Frankton ten seconds to flee.
Bernie explained that Walter laughed demonically, before disappearing into the night. Over the coming years, bodies were found in the street. Followers of the Speaker would relentlessly pursue Mr Johnson’s community, so the sane folk kept distant from the people of the Speaker. Few of Mr Johnson’s followers understood why they stayed, yet nobody felt able to leave. Something was keeping them there.
A couple of weeks before Leon and I arrived, however, Bernie said that Mr Johnson finally announced his plan to leave. There were murmurs of uncertainty. Everybody wanted to escape, of course, but fear had always stopped them. Still, they trusted Mr Johnson. If anybody had the power to safely lead them away from the place controlling their minds, it had to be the brave farmer. Packing and preparations began.
However, some days later, Bernie Bradley happened to look out of an upstairs window and notice Mr Johnson. The old man was wandering aimlessly onto the driveway, stumbling like a drunken man towards his vehicle. Bernie said there was a small child standing beside the car. The young boy led Mr Johnson to the driver’s door with a smile, and the two of them fled.
Things disintegrated after that. When a Molotov cocktail found its way through a window, the community dispersed. The sane folk fled in different directions, and Bernie was left alone with his mother.
“We’ve been running for days,” Bernie explained. “I keep finding the bodies of people from my community. Charred corpses in the street. I tried to leave this town, but it wouldn’t let me. The farther I drove, the sharper the pang in my heart. I knew I'd die if I were to keep going.”
“How did you find us?” Leon asked.
“I heard you,” Bernie replied. “Hard to miss the sound of an engine in a dead place like this. I had a hunch that it might be you.”
“You must've heard my brother then?” I asked hopefully.
Bernie frowned. “Alan's here? That might explain the raucous a few days ago… I don’t know what I heard. Noise. Lots of it... You won't find him, Jill. You have to run whilst it still lets you. The frost might be gone, but… something lingers.”
“The Speaker?” Leon asked.
Bernie nodded. “I was fortunate enough to never hear it. Or never remember hearing it. I don't know what it said to them. My mother won't tell me.”
Bernie looked at the woman next to him. The one who appeared to be the same age as him, though I realised he was still a decade younger. The horror of our town had aged him beyond his years.
“It will be so glorious…” Bernie’s mother giggled, eyes bearing faint pupils behind mild cataracts.
“You’re lucky that they didn’t see you arrive,” Bernie said. “Otherwise, you’d be dead already. But they’ll come. Sooner or later. And you need to listen to me if you want a safe way out of here. Okay? We need to distract them. Keep them off your backs.”
I shook my head. “I need to find my brother. I know he came to this town. I thought I'd find him in our home, but–”
“– Walter wanted him,” Bernie’s mother hissed.
The woman stopped rocking. Stopped smiling. And her head snapped to face me with such eerie speed that I thought it might entirely disconnect from her neck. Bernie quivered, seemingly just as horrified by his mother’s words as the rest of us.
“Mother…?” He asked.
“Walter wanted him. Walter wanted him. Walter wanted him!” The woman laughed, taunting me.
“What does she mean?” I sobbed. “Does Walter Frankton have my brother?”
Bernie’s face whitened. “If he does, your brother's either been flayed or charred.”
“Christ, Bernie,” Leon replied.
I sniffled. “I won’t leave until I know.”
“He’s already dead,” Bernie bluntly said.
“We don’t know that!” I cried.
I thought the others were sitting in stunned silence because I’d spoken so assertively. However, as I calmed my breathing, and the throbbing sensation in my ears quietened, I heard it too. The sound of laughing voices. Bernie’s mother strained to smile broadly. She looked as pained as my mother, but grateful for the privilege of the discomfort.
“You don't want to see this. We'll head through the back. Do not look at the street...” Bernie hoarsely pleaded as I rose.
But I was already running to the door.
I flung it open and started to run down the path, with Leon and Bernie in tow. Then, my eyes met the mob spilling beyond the end of the street. The crowd easily numbered a hundred people, and each face wore a terrible smile. Eyes glassy, yet all-seeing.
There was a man shuffling from the crowd towards me, like a terrified toddler taking its first steps. I tried to blot his face from my mind. I didn’t want to see it, though it was too late for that. I’d seen everything the moment I faced the crowd. Eventually, I fell to my knees and howled as I embraced the truth.
The shuffling man, who had been flayed alive, was my brother.
Alan reached towards me with an outstretched hand, weakly shouting something, before toppling forwards. He was reduced to a motionless heap on the road.
“Jill!” Leon cried again, rushing to me. “We have to go!”
I continued to wail as the gleeful crowd surged forwards. I resisted Leon, but he easily hauled my limp body to the car and bundled me into the back.
“He needs help...” I blubbered.
“He’s gone, Jill,” Leon whispered.
“What about your family?” I asked.
“They’re all gone...” He sniffled, stepping on the accelerator.
Staring through the rear-view window, I watched the crowd approach my old home. Bernie stood on the front porch, and his mother had her hands on his shoulders. The man did not run. As we pulled off the driveway, it almost seemed as if he, too, finally had a smile on his face. The mob swarmed Bernie, and I heard a brief cry of agony. It may have been ecstatic or fearful. It may have been both.
After we crossed the border, no chill pierced us. We were free to leave. But I know Leon and I belong to that town. I have always suspected that the wind grazed its teeth against my skin when I was a child. It grazed all of us. For, even now, I still feel that link. That urge to return to the salivating mob with a smile on my face.
When I returned home to find that my father was missing, I knew he felt it too.

Vault 669, location: Midland, TX.
Can the gays be won to Christ without being actively preached to? Let’s find out!
Vault 669 is sold as an animal husbandry and ranching operation located deep in Texas. Allegedly, the mission is to run a ranch that will breed various livestock for supplies and experimentation. Residents were allegedly recruited because they were willing to do hard, dirty labor and had little hope of getting into a vault otherwise, and therefore were desperate.
Of course, the livestock is a secondary mission. The real recruiting missing is to target 150 totally homosexual individuals with no children, although being partnered with one another was acceptable.
All of the overseer and the Vault staff were recruited from various evangelical churches, with Overseer Michaels being a pastor of 25 years. Their mission? Convert the heathen homosexuals to Christ by “winning them without a word.” No preaching, no starting religious talk, no mandatory prayers. Just a staff that seems so blissfully happy being Christian, that the queerosexuals can’t possibly resist!
The vault would be fairly neutral in most places, although the chapel will be beautifully decorated and welcoming. Prayers are said in the morning and before all meals. Staff are required to seem at peace and confident at all times, and credit any of their success to their faith in Christ. They are to practice kindness and pacifism at all times, even in the face of conflict in the vault. There is a full library, but any mention of other religions is strictly prohibited. Vault staff are all heterosexual with spouses and at least two children.
The final hypothesis: staff attitudes and lifestyle, combined with long days of hard manual labor, will convert at least 80% of vault residents into heterosexual Christians, and within 10 years, the conversion to a fully heterosexual Christian vault will be complete.
How it went down:
You guys don’t actually think the Rainbow Fam is stupid, right??
Overseer Michaels, a very gay man in the closet, saw his chance and acted. He used his position as a pastor to convince VaulTec to let him handle the recruiting, arguing he knew enough closeted homosexual people to make sure the vault was full. He worked tirelessly, holding secret meetings and getting the word out. He recruited several highly trained and intelligent individuals, enough to create a staff of his own, but submitted their applications as farm hands and other manual labor positions to ensure admissions.
68 hours after the vault was inhabited and permanently sealed, Operation Rainbow Hell was launched. One of the secret experts was an advanced computer engineer and former VaulTec employee, who was fired for being gay and admitted under an assumed identity. He knew just enough about the system to fake a catastrophic fertilizer explosion in the vault, making it appear that the vault was destroyed and everyone in it was dead.
Next, Ov. Michaels brought all staff, designated and infiltrated, for a meeting. He assured the Christian staff that they were still welcome to live in the vault and practice their faith openly, but the purpose of the vault had changed. He said Christ wouldn’t leave gay people to die in the apocalypse just because they were gay, and he wouldn’t either. If they weren’t safe for the new vault culture, they would have to leave.
The results:
Five of the VaulTec staff burst into grateful tears and came out on the spot, at which point the original Chief Engineer Butcher pulled out a contraband gun. He declared that he was taking over as overseer, and the rest of the VaulTech staff was ordered to join him in subduing the infiltrators.
Nobody moved for ten second. Finally, his second engineer stood up, calmly walked over, took the gun out of his hand, and looked him in the eye.
“Sir, Jesus would tell you to shut the fuck up.”
And so, a Rainbow Dawn did dawn. The two VaulTec staffs integrated fairly effortlessly, and the husbandry mission proceeded on schedule. Thanks to the technology provided for that mission, the human vault dwellers were able to artificially reproduce. Children were raised communally, and the rate of chid abuse was less than 1%. Conflict existed, but the incarceration facility was rarely used as more than a drunk tank.
Interestingly enough, many members of the vault did end up converting to Christianity! The VaulTec staff didn’t automatically let go of their faith, and still engaged in rich religious practices. Overseer Michael still presided over services, with his last sermon being a mere 14 hours before he passed peacefully at 81 years old.
His husband, retired Chief Engineer Butcher, died peacefully at his side the same night.
(Happy pride month to all of my rainbow family! I hope we all have a safe and beautiful month!!!!)

If this question has been asked too many times, I apologize. How do you write the best JIRA bugs possible? Is there a template you follow for every ticket? Also, do you use any extensions or other integrations to make gathering data for the ticket a more efficient process? Any tips and tools are welcome!

My flight is tomorrow and I am paralyzed with fear. I don't enjoy flying and always get anxiety, but this time just feels...different and off.
I feel like the trip planning was a mess and we just kind of threw something together and considered for a while just eating the cost of the tickets and staying home. Went back and forth but ultimately I said we should just go because I can't live in fear.
Ever since booking the flight in April I've had numerous full on panic attack melt downs where I'm doubled over bawling and all I can replay in my head is the plane going down and my life slipping away. The milestones I never got to have, all of it gone.
The worst part is the guilt of leaving behind family and having them mourn my loss (not in a cocky way, but in a way that no parent should have to experience losing their child), and the guilt they would be left with knowing that they told me it would be okay to go.
Then there are all the bad signs....for instance yesterday 5 different times birds crashed into our dining room window...that's supposed to be a sign to trust your gut instinct. And then on a podcast tlast night they were talking about a plane crash and just talking cryptically at points in a way that sounded directed towards me not to go.
Normal people look forward to trips, count down the days, get excited. I literally am in full on fight or flight mode for weeks or more straight, worsening as it gets closer. This time is the worst I've ever experienced to the point I am writing directions and goodbye letters to my mom "just in case."
I just contacted my bank to notify them of my travels and she said "ugh lucky" when I told her where we were going and my brain is freaking out that that's a bad omen and the universe will prove her wrong 🥲 it goes on and on with finding red flags.
I don't really know what I'm expecting here. I know the statistics. But I also know how many things happen to me regularly where I'm like "what are the freaking odds..." so that just scares me more.
I know many people get anxious about flying but I don't know where to draw the line on listening to my gut vs ignoring my anxiety. I feel like I'm losing my mind.
Thanks for reading and please send all your thoughts/prayers/good vibes my way for these flights! 🙏🏼 reading others on here makes me not feel as alone. Safe travels to all!

I don’t think I’ve ever posted on this sub before but I have been a member for a while. My 23rd birthday just passed (same birthday as Techno, June 1st 🥲❤️) and I realized I’m now the same age as him when he passed. You all know more than anyone else about the emotions felt when we heard Technodad read out his final letter but as I’ve gotten older the feelings have really hit me harder this year. Techno achieved a LOT in his short life that he and his family should be (and are, I’m sure) proud of. But he was just so young and my heart hurts thinking about it. 23 seemed like a big age when I was young but now being this age? I still feel like a kid.
I don’t know what the point of this post was exactly, but I watched an old Techno video (losing the WR bedwars win streak) last night and I saw Phil’s post for his birthday and it made me reminisce on how life was during those times. I think it’s both a blessing and a curse that time moves on. There really will never be another like Technoblade ❤️

https://store.steampowered.com/app/2989930/From_Fire_Emergence/
I've been working on this survival horror since around 2017. It's called 'From Fire Emergence'. Yeah it's taken a long time to get this far but day job, life and family makes indie dev that much harder. However! I now have an announcement trailer to share with you all. If you like survival horrors, especially resident evil 1, 2 and 7, this might be right up your street. Feedback welcomed!

how do i get free cricut joy. templates/ designs/ letters now that the app is no more?? Cricut said on design studio. I only see that with monthly cost???

Hi Everyone,
Today is Opposition Day in the House of Commons in Canada. This is one of 22 days which are allotted to opposition parties to table motions and call for votes.
We were provided some notice of what one of the parties will be discussing today in the House. The points are as follows:

1. Forcing big grocers and suppliers to lower prices on essential foods or face consequences such as price caps
2. Stop delaying reforms to the Nutrition North Program
3. End Liberal and Conservative handouts to grocers

If this is something which resonates with you, we encourage community members to reach out to their MP asking them to vote in favour of this motion. The discussion will conclude today, and voting period will occur tomorrow afternoon.
As a reminder, links to template letters and how to find your MP are in our stickied post, as well as across our socials. We remain nonpartisan in our work, but do feel this is directly relevant to our community and goals, and wanted to provide the information for folks to get involved as they see fit.
Thank you for your continued support,
-Mods
********************************************************************************************************************
French translation to come shortly.

Hi all, obviously the headline is a joke (or is it) but I’m at 25F looking for advice! I went on a couple of casual dates with a guy I met on Tinder and they surprisingly went well, considering I try not to put too much stock into dating apps. We seemed to have a genuine attraction to each other and I thought the getting-to-know-you process was going relatively smoothly. We hooked up on our second date, which probably shouldn’t have happened since he ended up being way more nervous than I expected (I genuinely believed he was the “cooler” and more experienced one). If anything I thought it was endearing and I apologized to him the next day for rushing into things. We continued to text the next few days but I could tell things were cooling off and the vibe was different (he wasn’t texting as often, but would still respond sporadically during the day). He actually even made plans for a few days into the next week, which gave me hope that things were good, he was just busy. He ended up texting me the morning we were going to hang out and ends things, citing the usual (family, work, moving apartments, not in the right place, etc). Maybe I am naive but I got the impression that he wasn’t using a line; we seemed to enjoy getting to know each other but I think there really were reasons he didn’t have the time or energy to date a little more seriously. I responded to him graciously and I even said if things change to let me know (leaving the door open). I haven’t stopped thinking about him since, and I really do wonder if I ever cross his mind. We still follow each other on social media (not that that means much these days lol, but I have had people I match/unfollow right after ending things) Obviously the goal is to find a way to move on with my dull, dull life, but I am thinking about reaching out to him at some point in the future to see if we could rekindle things. I’m not sure if it’s forward to reach out a few months after casually dating someone, or if I should just save myself the disappointment. But I am leaning toward YOLO, you never know until you ask! Anyway, any advice is welcome if you’ve been in a similar position or even from the other POV! Thanks, all muah

For context, I work at a wealthy, upper-class college as an hourly employee doing data entry. I enter gifts, bio data, that sort of thing. It's a very quiet job, I barely have to talk on the phone, it pays my bills...been more or less ideal for me rn. I'm also undiagnosed autistic, so the ability to have a quiet work place, hide away in my cubicle and even work from home sometimes is a real boon. I've worked customer-facing jobs and with crowds before, and while they can be fun, they are so exponentially more exhausting for me, and typically result in an inevitable melt-down. The prospect of doing such a job, much less on one of the few days I can recuperate at all, is a personal nightmare.
Currently it's "reunion week" and there's a massive event planned, with all alumni from every year. Which is whatever, I don't volunteer for those events, I'm not at all invested in the college or it's reputation, and just want to work my shitty little job and go home at the end of the day.
Recently the department VP sent out a department-wide email stating that "there are very few 'all hands on deck' events in our department, and this is one of them. You're to be expected to help out on at least one shift" (most of the available ones are on a Saturday) and that "This isn't just Sally or Meg's [not real names] team's responsibility, we all own these events and need them to be successful." Along with some bs about team-building and such. "Don't schedule anything around the time for the next one, my expectation is that everyone pitches in. (Remember if you are hourly - we are happy to pay overtime / weekend time as required.)" The implications are very open-ended, especially as I know there are usually several big events a year organized by parts of our department, which is....not encouraging.
Thankfully I was able to make an excuse for this year bc the notice was super short (the email was sent last week, and the event is this coming Friday/Saturday), but my supervisor already said that I need to "keep in mind what is being asked for in the coming year", and I really don't know how to go about handling what will be an inevitable next time. It's not in my job description, I specifically don't work that kind of job because I don't want to have a meltdown at work, and it's such a busy time of year for my position, that I can only "volunteer" on my day off.
My knee-jerk reaction is to just kick this can down the road until I know the date for the next time this BS happens, and then work on coming up with good excuses to be busy. But also that perhaps it's time to find a new job? And I don't love this job but I was hoping to keep it for a few more years to maintain some stability while I'm still going through some big life changes (moving in with partners), getting my feet squarely under me, and achieving some real stability after the chaos of the last decade (including homelessness after the military and other woes). I don't even know if this is worth trying to bring up to HR, and if I did, what approach to even take? The whole thing is just so much BS.
My partner pointed out that the coercive language comes off as bullying bc they can't actually make me show up for that, but also as we all know working in the US is "at will" so I could absolutely be let go for this with no real recourse.
Idk..I needed to vent about this, I am absolutely livid and stressed, but I'm also open to any advice or suggestions anyone might have. This new VP is a soulless corporate suit, and I had a feeling that something like this would start happening after he said some things at previous staff meetings, like "We want people here to actually care, for whom this isn't 'just a job to show up for and clock out of'. We are a family here". But this is just infuriating and depressing. The harm this would do to my ability to just do the things I already struggle to do on the weekend (like simple house-work and chores) much less rest....The last time I spent a few hours in a loud place I couldn't escape the exhaustion knocked me on my ass for a solid week.

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About Us - We pride ourselves on professionalism, hosting all servers with top-notch equipment and fiber internet speeds. - An adult community fostering a safe and secured gaming environment for all players. - Our active admin team is highly responsive and committed to ensuring a smooth experience for everyone. - We're a growing gaming family, welcoming new members to join us on this journey. - Fresh Servers! Active Players!
PvE - Death Pack auto-destruct to 2.5 hrs realtime (default was 30 min). You have longer to get back to your Death Pack before it disappears. - Vegetation Respawn speed doubled. Plants, trees, rocks etc respawn twice as fast. - Tribe Recruitment limit to 100 (default was 50). So your tribe can have up to 100 Tribesman (NPC's). - Bonfire Burning Speed halved. So Fuel lasts twice as long in Bonfires now. (This isn't really an issue, as fuel is easy enough to get. But just to make peoples lives easier, there you go)
PvP - Resources x2 - Crafting x2 - Bond fire up keep reduced - open to community feedback
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In March 2023, we were forced to let contractors cut open the drywall in our garage to check for water damage. We were told this would be a quick workaround project, but it's been over a year and no work has been completed.
Last year, I found out that they did not pay the contractors and they were putting a lien on our homes because the HOA did not pay the contractors. When I checked in February 2023, before the project, they had enough funds to pay off the invoices.
As soon as I asked for financial statements for FY23, two board members put their homes up for sale and the rest resigned. Turns out theres $215K missing and their balance sheets do no reconcile, neither do their accounts payable and receivable. I brought this up to the board and property management and they didn't have anything to say other that they would add it to the meeting notes.
The opened walls have compromised our air quality, depreciates our home (as the rainy season just passed), and puts us at risk of fire -- not to mention the pests. When I mentioned this to the Board and Property Management, they did not seem to care. I told them smoke comes up, especially when neighbors BBQ, the smoke from the coals go into the garage, up through the framing, and into the bedroom where we all sleep.
Since I have been getting strong smells of smoke, with no smoke in sight, I had an air quality specialist come and he said there is smoke trapped above the drywall in the corner and they also detected mold. So through the floorboards, I am exposed to mold and trapped smoke. I am pregnant and have a little one at home, along with a partner who has asthma. My family and I have experienced difficulty breathing along with frequent headaches. Our adjoining neighbors have also reported mold in their garage.
They recently sent a letter from their lawyer saying we are not permitted to fix the structure ourselves, despite the fact that in December 2023, they notified everyone they had no funds to finish the project.
I reached out to ~70 lawyers and only 1 said he would take the case, but I cannot afford his retainer fees. I understand it would be difficult for anyone in this niche space to take this on contingency, but I am at a loss.
What are my options here? They are legally holding us in a health hazard.

Hi all - this is my second time with breast cancer (first time: 2017 IDC ++- right breast two tumors so had mx, Oncotype 11 so no chemo, 2024 ILC +-- left breast has 3cm tumor and lots of NME, Oncotype 41 so doing chemo; I also have Lynch Syndrome PMS2 variant)
I have a huge circle of friends and family that I know want to help me out, but I just feel so terrible asking for anything. I just feel so guilty and selfish, even though I know I'm not being those things (I just need rides to and from my port placement and chemo, but I am scared to ask). This second breast cancer I find that I'm much more emotional than the first time and I'm wondering if that has something to do with that. Part of me just wants to crawl up into a ball and cry, and not talk to anyone (I know, not the best thing to do). Any feedback and support are welcome...

A lot of these instances are BEC, but it’s all coming to a breaking point and I know that soon it’ll culminate into something huge because that’s just the type of person my MIL is.
My MIL and I always had a decent relationship pre pregnancies. She’s always been a bit overbearing and will say some questionable shit here and there, but she only really started showing her ass when I got pregnant for the first time in December. During that pregnancy she:
•announced to the family group chat immediately after we told her. Not even giving us the chance to tell her not to. Her exact words were “DH is having a baby! I’m going to be a grandmother!”
•always comparing our symptoms and experiences. I wasn’t nauseous or throwing up at all for my last pregnancy and she would always tell me “well eventually it’s going to hit you like it hit me and you’ll be miserable” like she was wishing I’d be sick or something.
•always insisting I’d have a girl knowing that myself and DH wished for a boy first because she never got her girl.
•offered to do the gender reveal, but only the cake that we wanted because she wanted to be the first to know the baby’s gender.
•didn’t help with anything while we were going through a big move, but wanted to do the fun stuff like paint the baby’s mural.
•her (literally) crazy friend offered to rent out one her homes to us, MIL set it up. We were all excited because it was a very nice house. We started moving stuff in. I unfortunately miscarried during this time and about a week later, while still grieving, her friend went insane, raised the rent on us BECAUSE our baby died, signed another renters agreement with some random dude while our stuff was still in her house, and told us to hit the road basically.
•after this, MIL still thought she could give input on where we live. lol no. Never again.
•the day I found out I miscarried, we went back home (were staying next door to her at the time) And the literal second we pulled up, she comes running out of her house (DH and she are NOT close like that at all. We lived next door and still tried to not see her every day) trying to make the miscarriage about her grief. At the time we were writing a goodbye letter to our dead baby, and DH told her to go the fuck away basically.
•I just found out recently that she took it upon herself to message everyone in the family to leave me alone and not bother me during the miscarriage because I “wasn’t in the right headspace.” So while I was spiraling mentally during the loneliest, darkest hour of my life thinking that nobody gave a fuck, it was actually my MIL inserting herself.
Well she chilled out for awhile and things seemed to level out… until I found out I was pregnant again in May…
•We didn’t tell everyone right away this time, we wanted to make sure we made it past the point we did last time. We were going to appointments in secrecy. During this time, DH stopped sharing his location with his mom for that reason. It always bothered me that he just let his mom have his location at almost 30, because she’d make comments when it was just the two of us like “I think DH forgot about his location being on (he didn’t, he just didn’t care enough to turn it off) promise you won’t tell him” but this gave him reason to turn it off. After we announced, she had the AUDACITY to ask me why his location wasn’t on. When I explained the very valid reason, she said, verbatim “Having his location, as a mother, is like an umbilical cord to me. I can’t eat or sleep if I can’t check and see that he’s okay.” Um. He goes to work and comes home. I have his location, if anything ever happens I’ll lyk. I told DH this and he admitted it was weird and agreed to not give it back to her and that when we go on vacation again (the reason it was on to begin with) he will share with his grandmother, but not with her.
•she tried to announce to the family again. DH, thankfully, intercepted and shut her down.
•she’s still doing her comparison bullshit. When she asked what my hope for a birth plan was, I told her I wanted to try an unmedicated birth. She said something along the lines of “just give it five minutes into labor and you’ll be begging for an epidural” followed by a long tangent about her “traumatic” (she tore, and not even badly, that was it) epidural birth.
•she wants to set up a nursery for our baby in her 2 bedroom house. 1) her house is and is always a mess. Trash everywhere, dishes in the sink, she doesn’t clean, doesn’t tidy 2) has 4 untrained animals running around the house pissing and shitting all over all of the floors. Including the cats. 3) the room she wants to set up for the baby is currently housing baby chickens and I don’t trust her cleaning ability enough to EVER get that mess out. 4) she’s always complaining about money and not having enough of it, wants to spend LOTS of money on shit for a baby nursery, and then will end up not helping us with Jack shit, I just know it 5) baby will NEVER spend enough time in her pigsty to need a nursery, I don’t even trust her to babysit.
•she’s been playing favorites with DH’s cousin’s baby already. Checks on them literally every day, calls, texts, whatever, and only checks on me and baby once a week, if even. This normally wouldn’t bother me because I don’t care to speak to her often, but it’s not about me. It’s about her literal biological grandchild that she is already deprioritizing, but wants to do all of this surface level shit for. I refuse to let my baby be a hip accessory on a Facebook post for her to get her little social media likes.
•the other day we were visiting DHs grandmother because family from out of town were here, cousin and her baby were there. When MIL walked in, she plopped on the ground and doted on the baby for a solid 5 minutes (they were at her house next door not even 10 minutes prior) before even acknowledging my presence or asking how I was feeling or how the baby was doing.
•after cousin and baby left, MIL mentioned that cousin conveniently wants to have her baby’s first birthday party on the same day we were planning my shower (the week of Halloween, I want a Halloween costume party themed shower) and that I have to compromise and pick a different day. She offered for me to do it three weeks before Halloween. Lol? No? That defeats the whole purpose. When I put my foot down she basically implied that she’d go to cousin’s baby’s birthday party and not her own grandchild’s shower, and that she wouldn’t help with anything (not like she would anyways).
Are the pregnancy hormones causing me to overreact?? This shit is rage inducing, no? DH is on my side completely. He’s had enough of his mom’s bullshit and is planning on having a conversation with her as soon as he can. She won’t be receptive, but I can’t deal anymore and neither can he.

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Going to be launching a fresh PvP Server this up coming Friday we have roughly 15ish players waiting for this server and we are looking for more players to keep the server very active and alive. More players the better!
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