Good morning I am 55years old and my last period was around February 2021 I had like brownish discharge with light pink for two days in 2022 told ob doctor she did not think it was anything and i had a pap smear January of this year 2023 all normal but i did spot for 1 day very light pink after pap smear I have some uterine fibroids since i was about 30 years old on side of uterus and i have i dont know how many uterine polyp's?, that was never visualized it was told to me after an endometrial biopsy and the ob doc said they always check for cancer which was negative but i did not have the endometrial polyp removed because doc said we didnt know if it was even bothering me and the reason i had the endometrial biopsy was the last two periods when my period ended finally i really bleed alot with clots it was very last 2 periods before menapause and that was the end of my bleeding the end of periods and ob doctor also is aware of this also i never bleed like that like those last two last periods i had before menapause started. My husband of 15 yrs passed away 4 years ago and i cannot or feel still ready to date so i dont have sex atm but i do masturbate every couple months as the heartbreak hit me hard and sex is the last thing on my mind and when i masturbate i spot for a couple days very lightly since i been in menapause but what made me contact you for opinions, etc, is that Sunday i had strong orgasms and Sunday night i felt my panties wet and there was a dash of blood and today monday still a dash of blood but also some purpleish like stringy looking, you know what we shed when we have periods thats what it looks like when i wipe and its not much like when i would get my period before menapause, i would shed that all my life that i had periods and ob doc knows all these years. So my question today what is it what is causeing this? I am also itching so much all around my vagina but the outside not inside its a crazy crazy itch it drives me crazy it itches so badly the doc gave me hydrocordizone which did not help and yeast creme did not help and thats what i tried i even shaved my pubic hair because it is so course and dry and itchy i will see if that helps? I am going to begin HRT next week as i was going to start HRT as soon as menapause started but i was in europe and they really do not use HRT so my insurance kicks in next week i can get my precription the doc has ordered angelique HRT combined tablets it has i believe 3mg estrogen and 1 mg progesterone, i cannot take natural HRT some ingredients severely allergic to. Is it my hormones going wacky, is it my fibriods i have had for years, is it endometrial polyps, is it stress, do i need my HRT , i also would like to say that i am very low on vitamin D and my ferritin-iron is normal but low end of normal. I have not spoke to my doc yet as this just happened, anyone going or went through this? If you think its the polyp what did you feel or experience? Like i said only when i masturbate i have this so i do not know what is going on?

Okay I’m not one to speculate and offend people that have gone through recovery so please understand that before reading this. But do we have any people that have gone through recovery and relapsed in this group ? Did you guys see any signs from Waller through like interviews or body language that that could be the case? I just don’t get how with gruden he was this A1 role model and then once mcdaniels took over his motivation and love for the team and even football has taken such a nose dive . Hopefully it’s just cause he doesn’t like this new regime. This would just be stupid Reddit people with their conspiracies but lombardi was even quoted saying Waller said “fine me” and I would never expect that to come out of his mouth. Love him and he will always be a raider in my eyes but if that’s the case I’m glad he’s out of Vegas so he can get back on recovery and have an amazing life with his new wife. I live in Vegas and it’s so easy to get ANYTHING you want here. Literally just have to walk down fremont and you have people coming up to you asking if you’re looking for blow ice etc. fuck this place sometimes man .

Hi there. I am a 27F. Approximately 5’9” and 142lbs. I don’t take any medications, I don’t smoke. Tonsillectomy in 2001. I have TMJ. I have a scarred lymph node on the back of my head/neck area that was declared benign by my PCP back in 2019. There have been no further changes. I have health anxiety. I have seasonal allergies that come and go depending on the weather. I had a cold for a week last month. Had ear pain on both sides for a few days after the cold.
On Thursday 3/16, I found and I am currently freaking out about 2 firm lymph nodes that are located behind the jaw bone in the tonsilar area. They are symmetrical to each other. They are both about the size of an m&m (1cm) they are moveable. You cannot see them under the skin. If I press on them too much they hurt and the pain goes to my inner ears. I scheduled an appointment with my PCP for 4/6 (soonest she could get me in).
I went on to Google to see what could cause this and of course cancer popped up everywhere when mentioning lymph nodes. I’m wondering if anyone has had an issue like this and it not be cancer? If so, what was it? Based on this information does it sound like cancer? Anything helps, I’m absolutely freaking out! Can’t eat, sleep or function☹️
Thank you in advance ❤️
*also I did not have any other typical symptoms. No weight loss, night sweats, fevers, joint pain, fatigue, etc

This story needs to be told. Those who have suffered must understand why. It’s not as simple as some have made it to be, which is why it needs to come from the person most responsible… me.
It began when I was least expecting it. But then don’t things always seem to happen that way?
***
“I’m tellin' ya, doc, people just don’t understand,” Frederick said while rocking back and forth in the chair.
“What exactly don’t they understand?” I said, trying to look more relaxed than I felt.
“There’s just something that takes over. You can’t stop it.”
“Impulse control?”
“What’s that mean?” Frederick said, struggling against his straight jacket, trying to get comfortable.
“It means that when you want to do something, you try your hardest not to. It means you try to control or suppress the urge to do things you know are bad.”
Frederick’s mouth lolled open. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Why would I want to do that?”
I suppressed the urge to sigh.
“Because that’s what people do,” I said. “They think about doing bad things, but then they control themselves and don’t do them because those things are wrong and could hurt other people.”
“Hurting people is wrong?” he said.
“Yes, Frederick, hurting people is wrong.”
He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away a fly that was annoying him.
“Why?”
“Why is hurting people wrong?”
“No, why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re saying I’m bad,” he said trying to rise from his chair. “You’re saying I didn’t need to hurt those people. That I’m a bad person.”
I got up from my chair and started backing toward the heavy metal door.
“I’m not bad!” he yelled at me. “You’re bad!”
I knocked on the door and the orderly opened it as Frederick got to his feet.
I slipped through the door as it slammed shut from the impact of his body slamming into it.
“Bad, bad, bad,” he screamed.
“Badbadbadbadbadbadbadbad!”
Spit flew from his mouth landing on the small observation window with metal grates embedded in it.
“You ok, doc,” the orderly said, startling me.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
I turned and walked down the white hallway, hoping the orderly wouldn’t notice the quickness in my step. I ignored the sound of Frederick beating on the door. I ignored all the sounds I heard. I just wanted to get away.
It was a long walk to my office, through many security gates. At each one, the nurse buzzed me through and gave me an acknowledging look that used to be a smile.
I suppose this place gets to everyone eventually.
I finally reached my office, closed and locked the door behind me, and collapsed into my chair. I breathed out a sigh of relief at reaching relative safety. I turned and looked out my window to the beautiful flowers blooming on the trees in the courtyard. I looked up at the tree stretching toward the sky.
I remember when they planted those.
I turned back to my center, my means of solace, the only thing that mattered in this cruel, unfair world. I picked up the picture of my lovely wife and smiled. She was the one who kept me sane all these years. She kept me seeing the best in people. Or at least trying. Sometimes there was no good to see—especially in my patients.
It takes a special kind of doctor to care for the mental needs of those who have done heinous things that are so bad they don’t even bother sending them to prison. They send them to me.
I’m like the dumpster for the dregs of society. Just drop them in the asylum and forget about them.
I kissed my wife and set her back on the bare desk, then turned on my computer and added notes from today’s session. There was never a recommendation for release. Once patients came here the only way they left was in a body bag. There was no curing them, only trying to make them docile until they left.
Oh, there were experiments. That was a large part of how we were funded. Companies would pay for certain tests to be done. Some might call it torture, but we called it research.
I finished typing my notes and leaned back in my seat. The diplomas and degrees stared down from their perches on the bare walls, mocking me. Demanding why I hadn’t gotten a better job.
As usual, I didn’t have an answer.
My office suddenly felt stuffy. I closed down my computer and left. Driving down the packed freeway, all I could think about was collapsing on the couch beside my lovely Elizabeth. Not telling her about my day until she dragged it out of me, then listening to her encourage me to help those who have been left in my care, because I’m the only hope they have.
Traffic was bumper to bumper and not helping my overall opinion of humanity much. Especially when a car that was swerving from lane to lane, nearly sideswiped me. It kept going on in front of me, nearly hitting several other cars.
The driver and passenger seemed to be having a disagreement about how to drive the car and it looked like it was about to come to blows.
Fortunately, they were soon out of sight, and someone else’s problem.
For the next few miles, I kept watching the side of the road waiting to see the offending car sitting in a ditch. However, they surprised me. They must’ve turned off to go terrorize some neighborhood streets with their reckless driving.
I hummed to myself, not wanting to have whatever dreck was on the radio forced on me.
When I was nearly to my exit, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the number as work. I contemplated answering it for a moment, then thought better of it. There had never been a time when work called with good news. And I was in no mood for bad news.
I hummed a little louder, trying to drown out the sound of the ring before it finally stopped.
The closer I got to home the less I thought about work and the more I thought about Elizabeth. Until I turned off at my exit, I had nearly forgotten work altogether. Maybe I would take tomorrow off and go do something with my wife. We hadn’t been out for a while. The weather had been lovely and I know she would adore a walk down by the lake.
My thoughts were interrupted when I turned down our driveway and saw a car in front of the house. It wasn’t quite in the driveway, it was sitting at an angle halfway in the front yard.
I parked my car and slowly got out. Something struck me about this car, but I hadn’t figured out what. I approached the driver’s side to have words with the person still sitting at the wheel.
“Excuse me,” I said staying a few steps back from the driver’s door.
He didn’t answer me.
“Excuse me,” I said a little louder.
Still no answer.
I tapped on the window and he ignored me.
I opened the door.
“Okay, look… “ I said.
But it was I who would do the looking. The man fell out of the car, thudding on the grass. The inside of the car was covered in blood. I looked down and the man’s throat had been cut.
“Oh my God!” I said jumping back.
I watched to see if the man was breathing, but the way his neck was bent at an unnatural angle against my yard told me everything I needed to know.
I glanced through the car but didn’t see the passenger.
It was then my eyes drifted to my front door.
It was open.
I stepped through the shrubs and up onto the porch, walking in a daze. The surrealness of the moment had yet to sink in. I was going inside to check on my wife and make sure everything was ok.
It didn’t strike me as anything more than that.
‘Oh, she just left the door open, that’s all.’
My mind kept trying to tell me that. I wanted desperately to believe it. Even though she had never been that careless during the entire time we’d been married. I had pushed aside all reason and common sense in favor of pure denial.
Everything was going to be ok. With Elizabeth, everything was always ok. She could literally light up a room with her positivity. She was the best person I ever knew. I have no idea how I got so lucky as to know her, let alone be her husband.
I floated in through my front door on my cloud of denial and looked for my wife.
It didn’t take me long to find her.
There was one wall of the living room she was constantly redecorating. She always said it looked bare and empty no matter what she did with it.
She was hanging from that wall, naked, her beautiful body desecrated by slices and rips. Her throat had been slit and blood still poured from it.
I ran to her.
Tried to take her down.
Screamed her name.
And then it was my turn to scream.
I looked down and saw a knife blade sticking out from my abdomen. It was part of the cutlery set I had gotten for Elizabeth three Christmases ago.
I screamed as I slowly turned to face my attacker.
“What’s up, doc?” Frederick said wearing a maniacal grin.
The shock had punched a hole in my reasoning. I saw him standing there, but I couldn’t accept it any more than I could accept my beautiful wife strung up like a macabre painting hanging on our living room wall.
My eyes tried to focus on his face. To make me recognize him as a threat.
“How’s that impulse control workin’ for ya, doc?”
He ripped the knife out of my back.
The pain, along with his arrogance woke me from my shock-induced stupor.
“Now do you understand?” he said, as he shoved the knife into my belly.
I did understand. I understood at that moment that I was already as dead as my wife. I knew that this piece of human garbage had taken something beautiful from this world. I knew I had to do something about it before there was nothing I could do. Before my body succumbed to injuries and I was unable.
I grabbed him by the throat. He tried to laugh, but my grip was fueled by desperation.
He tried to free himself but couldn’t. He began stabbing me over and over. I refused to release him. I carried him by his neck over to the kitchen counter and began bashing his head off the marble.
I was rewarded with spots of his blood. I knew at least I had made him bleed and that made me smile. His eyes grew wide as my grin grew maniacal. I smashed him repeatedly, crushing him against the sink, breaking the faucet, and causing water to spray into the air.
His eyelids fluttered as he lost his grip on the knife.
He was nearly gone. I would take him with me and that would be my parting gift to the world, removing something so evil.
Suddenly, my body wouldn’t obey commands. My grip loosened. I tried to tighten it, but I had lost all control. I looked down and I was standing in a pool of my own blood.
His eyes fluttered open and he coughed.
‘Nonononononono!’ I thought. ‘He can’t live. He can’t win. I had him.’
He stood as I sank to the floor.
“Looks like maybe you do understand, doc,” he said from what seemed like miles away. “Too bad you won’t be around to discuss it. We could have a session and evaluate how it makes you feel.”
His foot came down on my spine. I felt a crack. He started kicking me in the side repeatedly. Splashing water and blood on me as I felt my ribs crack.
I fought with everything I had.
My body didn’t even twitch.
‘Nooooo!,’ I screamed. ‘It can’t end like this.’
I heard a sizzling sound and then there was darkness.
***
I could feel movement.
Wasn’t I dead?
Was this what happened after?
It was still dark.
‘Hello?’ I tried to say.
Nothing. Just the sensation of movement.
Am I in a body bag? Am I on my way to the morgue or the grave? Please don’t let me be buried alive.
But I’m not alive, am I?
I don’t feel any pain. That’s a good thing, but not a good sign. The last thing I remember was lots of pain.
Suddenly there’s light and my movement stops.
I look up from the floor of a house I don’t recognize.
‘Where the hell am I?’
I’m on the floor next to a wall, looking up at an electrical outlet. Nothing around me seems familiar. I try to stand but it feels weird. It isn’t difficult, and there’s still no pain, it just carries an odd sensation with it. Like my body is just relearning things. Just like when I was a toddler. I teeter back and forth as I rise, but eventually, I’m upright.
My first few steps are tentative, but after that, I gain confidence with each stride.
Aside from the strange surroundings, there’s a sensation, like ants crawling all over me.
I pass a bathroom and glance inside. The reflection in the mirror draws me back. I slowly approach it, seeing something unique and terrifying.
It looks like someone drew an outline of a human form using a lightning bolt. The electricity shimmers and crackles as it races around the empty form of the being.
I wonder if it will hurt me.
Not sure if I want to test the limits of my newfound lack of pain, I hesitantly reach for this creature. It reaches for me at the same time. I’m mesmerized by this mutual curiosity.
My hand is about to touch the electric pulse shaped like its hand. I tremble with anticipation and fear as we touch.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel anything except a hard surface.
I move my hand back and forth. The creature does the same. I make quicker movements, and so does it.
Finally, out of frustration, I reach back and strike at the creature.
My hand strikes the hard surface and it splinters. There are now multiple creatures staring back at me.
I step back and come to the horrible realization.
I am the creature.
***
One month later…
“And police have been unable to find any credible leads in the string of brutal killings that began shortly after the patient escaped from the mental hospital last month,” the handsome anchorman stated from behind his desk. “They are asking people to call in if they know the whereabouts of Frederick Winston, now known as, ‘The Mangler’.”
“In other news, the Larsan Electric Company has issued a statement that the recent power surges are no cause for alarm. These surges seem to be random in people's homes and certain businesses. An LEC spokesman stated that there appears to be no pattern to the surges and that so far no one has reported them causing any harm. LEC is tracking down the problem and should have it under control soon.”
The anchorman shifted in his seat and turned to another camera.
“And on a lighter note, with Halloween months away, it seems that reports of ghosts are on the rise,” he said, wearing a half grin. “Several area residents have reported what they call a ghostlike figure, outlined in light, visiting them. Reports vary as to the duration and location of the visits, but they do seem to have a few things in common. The visits are usually short. In fact, most people say that if they blink the figure is gone. No one has reported the ghost doing any harm. And it seems like anyone within close proximity feels a tingling sensation and their hair standing on end.”
“Maybe I should be visited instead of my next hairdresser’s appointment,” the attractive woman anchor said with a laugh.
“Schedule me a visit too,” the male anchor said smiling. “And that’s our news for the evening, good night.”
Jimmy switched the channel.
“Gimme a break,” he said to the TV. “Ghosts? Who’s playing what? This’s some marketing scheme to sell Halloween crap. Like that stunt they pulled a few years back with the clowns hanging around the schools to promote that stupid movie.”
He switched off the TV and rolled over in his bed.
It wasn’t long before his breathing slowed. But before sleep could take him, he noticed a glow in the hallway. He didn’t remember leaving any lights on when he came to bed. Living alone had its advantages. If he heard someone in his apartment, he knew they weren’t supposed to be there. He slowly reached over to the bedstand and pulled out his Glock 9mm handgun, then held it close and listened.
He watched as the glow moved. It seemed like someone was looking around. But for what? He didn’t really have anything aside from his TV, phone, and video games. If anyone wanted those, they would be in a world of hurt. He had been lucky to get this apartment. If he was honest with himself, it cost more than he could afford, but when he had the chance he took it. It was too bad the opening came because the person who lived there before him was one of The Mangler’s victims. That’s probably why he was able to rent the place so quickly and get the price down to where he could almost afford it.
Maybe the glow was one of the street people who were stupid enough to see if there was an empty apartment to claim. That wasn’t gonna fly either. Jimmy had jumped on this apartment to get away from the dingy rat hole he used live in on the other side of town. And there was no way he’d let some bum come in here and take what was his.
The glow crept closer. He could feel the hairs on his arms raise. There was a sound too. It wasn’t loud, almost felt more than heard. A soft crackle, like electricity when it sparked.
The sensory input was almost too much for Jimmy to take. He pointed the gun in the direction of the glow and saw the barrel was shaking. His resolve, that he could deal with anyone as long as he had his gun, was beginning to fade.
The glow became so bright that it finally took form.
Jimmy’s eyes widened. It was the form of a person, just like the news had said.
It seemed to look around the room, then settle its gaze on the bed. Jimmy began to sweat as it approached and stared into his eyes.
It was the oddest thing, staring into what should be eyes, but nothing was there. The flashes of mini lightning bolts formed shapes that looked almost human, but it was just an outline, there was nothing inside what should be the body.
He shoved the shaking gun out from under the blanket and pointed it at the glowing figure.
The figure noted the presence of the gun, then continued to advance.
“S… stop,” Jimmy said. “I’m w… warning you.”
The figure ignored the warning.
Jimmy squeezed the trigger, setting off a deafening shot that went right through the face of the figure.
It acted as though nothing had happened, continuing to advance. The ringing in Jimmy’s ears made all sound seem muffled.
The figure stopped two inches from Jimmy’s face.
“Mangler… “ it said, sounding less like a voice and more like a transmission over an old staticky radio.
“I… I’m not the Mangler,” he said. “The person who used to live here was killed by him.”
It seemed to ponder this for a moment.
“Find Mangler… “ it said.
“I d… don’t know where to find him.”
It moved an inch closer. As the flashes of electricity arced, licked hungrily at Jimmy’s face.
“Find… him… “
“Ok, ok, I’ll find him,” Jimmy said, feeling the heat from the electricity.
The figure seemed to consider that for a moment then backed away. It moved toward the bedroom wall. Then, like someone had turned on a vacuum, it was sucked into an electrical outlet and disappeared.
Jimmy laid back in bed, breathing hard. His eyes darted left and right all around the room. But the only evidence of the figure that remained was the bullet hole in his bedroom wall.
***
The trips through the electrical conduits had become easier. There were still times when I came out someplace I didn’t intend to, but I was usually able to recover quickly and get to where I wanted to go.
But where did I want to go? At first, I wandered around, lost in this new form I found myself trapped inside. It was only after I had overheard a news report about the serial killer they called The Mangler that I gained my purpose.
Of course, Frederick was going to keep killing. Of course, they weren’t going to be able to catch him. He’d been inside away from his victims before and he didn’t like it. Not being able to torture and kill innocents was like a normal person not being able to breathe. Not that I know much about normal or breathing anymore.
I suppose on some level I should thank him. I thought about it for a long time and the only thing that makes any kind of sense is when we were fighting, somehow the water and blood I was laying in got splashed into the electrical socket. Instead of killing me, it bonded with me, making me able to become the electrical current. To ride it like a wave to wherever I wanted.
I became faster than any person ever was. And yet, I wasn’t a person anymore. I have no idea how I retained my consciousness, let alone my memory. But somehow…
I justify it by the old adage, ‘I think therefore I am.’
My life has become an endless hunt for the person who destroyed me, the person I must destroy. I don’t even know what I’ll do when I find him. But I will find him. I will stop him. This time, I won’t fail. I’ll end him like I should’ve before.
I owe it to the people he’s tortured and killed since my failure. Most of all, I owe it to my wife. I know she wouldn’t approve of my bloodlust. She would say there must be some other option. But if she would be able to see her dead body hanging naked from our living room wall, I think she just might change her mind.
My thoughts are interrupted as I arrive at my next destination, another victim’s house. I’m not sure what I’ll find that the police haven’t, but I have to try. Maybe I can pick up his scent somehow. A plan almost assuredly doomed to failure since I lost all sense of smell in the transformation.
I’m surprised though that I can still see and hear. I suppose waves of light and sound somehow intersect with my electrical body and it senses them. I don’t question it. I’ve learned to just go with it.
On the plus side, I don’t have to worry about eating, drinking, or using the bathroom. I guess there’s an upside to everything. Elizabeth would be so proud of me.
I arrive at the room where the victim was murdered. Looking around there’s still blood everywhere, along with evidence markers where they took pictures.
The sheer amount of blood tells me he took his time. He desecrated this girl in her own room. Her parents must’ve been out because there’s no way they didn’t hear the struggle. There were books on the floor, a chair overturned, and blood everywhere. The room was a disaster. It looked like she fought him. I wish she would’ve succeeded where I had failed.
But then, I wish I hadn’t failed, and this girl was still alive.
There’s nothing I can do now except find him and end him.
Finding him was proving more difficult than I thought. I had unlimited access to anywhere with electricity, but I couldn’t use a computer or a GPS. I was limited to transportation only through electricity. Granted that still made me the fastest being alive. I say being because I don’t think I qualify as human anymore. But I was limited to traveling to a place and then trying to find out where I was and if he was there.
If he knew I was searching for him all he would have to do is live the rest of his days in a cabin in the woods with no electricity. I’d never be able to reach him.
I believe two things worked in my favor with that theory.
First, I don’t think he’s that smart, and second, I don’t think he knows I’m looking for him. I believe that surviving our fight only further empowered him to kill. When someone feels invincible, they’re bound to make a mistake.
An officer walked into the room and I ducked back into an outlet. I was able to hang on where I was and watch from inside the outlet without being transported somewhere else.
The officer looked startled and stared at the empty air that I had just vacated. She looked like she was unsure if she trusted what her eyes had seen in the instant before I vanished.
She slowly stepped over to the corner and bent down to peer into the outlet. For a moment I wondered if she could see me, and what exactly she would see. But then her radio squawked calling her to another scene. When I heard the voice on the radio say the address and that they might have the killer cornered, I didn’t waste any time.
It was maybe fifteen seconds until I was across town at the address I’d heard. There was a lot of screaming and crying going on. I came out of the outlet and saw blood on the floor beside a body that wasn’t moving.
There was a girl being beaten by a man with his back to me. He turned to take another swing and I knew my search was over.
“My psychiatrist used to tell me I needed to work on my impulse control,” he said calmly as he slapped her. “I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been here ten whole minutes and you’re still alive.”
I shot across the room and knocked him to the floor. He jumped back up and looked around for what had hit him.
“What the hell?”
I saw the fear in his eyes when he saw me. I know Elizabeth would’ve been ashamed, of me, but I was enjoying his anxiety. After all he had done to me and so many others, I drank it in like an elixir.
He started edging toward the door. I was there in a heartbeat. His eyes darted back and forth between where I used to be and where I now stood. The panic in his eyes doubled.
I wanted to make him suffer, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake I’d made before and let him escape with his life.
I lashed out with a bolt that used to be my arm. The energy slashed through his shirt and fried a hole in his shoulder.
He screamed in pain and horror as he looked at the smoking hole in his skin. He tried to run but in an instant, I was there in front of him firing another bolt and searing the skin across his waist to his jeans.
His screams of pain and rage were only matched by the feral desperation in his eyes.
Not knowing what do to, he went with the familiar. Attack the innocent. He grabbed the girl who had been crawling away from the scene.
He grabbed her again and held her in front of him like a human shield.
What a waste of skin.
I fired a bolt into a ceiling light beside me which ricocheted and hit him full force in the leg, nearly severing it.
He went down like a ton of bricks, trying to hold on to his hostage, but she was fighting to get away from him. She broke free and he crumpled to the floor.
“What do you want?” he screamed at me.
With everything that is within me, I wanted to tell him who I was, what he had taken from me, and what I was about to take from him.
But I didn’t want to give the satisfaction. I wanted to give him only uncertainty and fear to cling to.
I could feel the seconds ticking away. I knew I had to make the most of this opportunity or he would get away again. And after this, I might never find him.
I unleashed every ounce of energy at him. I couldn’t even see him, he was only a smoking pillar of frying skin.
Just then, the police burst through the door.
“FREE… “ the first officer started then the shock of what he was seeing stole the rest of the word from his mouth.
He stood there, mouth agape when the female officer stepped in behind him. She looked at me and her wide eyes narrowed as she put two and two together and recognized me from the last crime scene.
I had no reason to fear. I didn’t know if I could even be harmed in my current state. But when you see that blue uniform burst through a door with a gun aimed at you, all rational thought takes a vacation.
I dove for the outlet and was gone. I didn’t even care where I was going. I knew I had done what I wanted to. The monster was destroyed.
Something felt different. Was it pride at finishing my crusade? Was it shame knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t have wanted me to do it?
I don’t know but there was something else. It was like there was added weight to my existence. I guess you can have a conscious in whatever you’d call this existence.
I appeared in the place that made the most sense, ironically. It was my old home. The one where everything I loved died, including me. It was where I took on this unintended new existence.
Is that why I felt this extra weight? Was it some cathartic aftereffect of my search for revenge that was finally over?
I looked around the charred debris of what used to be my home. In my mind's eye, I didn’t see the burned-out shell of what was left. I saw it as it was when we first moved in. When Elizabeth and I started decorating. When the interior was finally finished and I turned to her and said, “For now.” Knowing she would decide to change everything at some time in the future when she was bored, just like all women seem to do.
I remember getting a paintbrush across the mouth for that comment. I smiled remembering kissing her with my freshly painted mouth and ending up in the bedroom.
As I turned toward where I’d entered the house, my smile quickly faded. For some reason, I was still connected to the outlet. That had never happened before.
Another curiosity arose when I noticed the color of my electrical body was now tinged purple. It had always been blue before.
The tail of what had yet to come out of the outlet was red. As I pulled and it came the rest of the way out, it merged with me and turned purple.
“What the hell?” I heard someone say.
I whipped around but no one was there.
“Where am I?” the voice said.
“Who are you?” I said to the air.
There was a long silence.
“Doc?” the voice said.
As far as I knew it wasn’t possible for my spine to turn to ice, since I no longer had a spine, but the feeling seemed the same.
“Frederick?” I said.
“What happened?” he said. “This crazy electric thing attacked me and now… wait a minute. How am I talking to you? You died months ago.”
My shock gave way to utter despair. My enemy was now part of me.

I (36F) have been working with my ENT since Aug 2022 to stop the infections I was having in my lower right salivary gland. This was a condition I had been dealing with for approximately 7yrs where I would get swelling and pain under my jaw, but then it would go away for a long time- only to return again either months or years later.
I did try going to my general doctor and dentist to try and get a resolution, but neither of them could tell me what was causing the issue. Through my own research online, I came to the determination that I had salivary stones in my gland, causing the backup of saliva and infections.
I finally got in with the ENT, however it was weeks before they would see me since I was a new patient. In the weeks I waited for my appointment, a small stone about the size of a pen head came out of my duct and infection came flowing out. I ultimately had to go to urgent care to get antibiotics until I could get in with the ENT.
When I did go to the ENT, I told him I felt like there was another stone in there, because I could still feel stabbing pains under my tongue and jaw, all the way to my ear. He said he didn’t think there was another stone and that my gland was just very inflamed from the infection. He prescribed me more antibiotics and sent me on my way.
About 10 days later I could still feel the stabbing pains and was still having a considerable amount of infection coming from my duct. I went back to the ENT to get checked out. At this time I could definitely feel some hard under the tissue under my tongue - it felt like it was the shape of the top of toothpick or sunflower seed. Again, he insisted there was no stone, that he couldn’t feel it. I asked about doing an X-ray, he said it wasn’t necessary and thinks I just need to give it more time to settle down “let the antibiotics do their job”.
About a month later the stone has come all the way up to my duct and I could visible see it under the tissue and could even move it around. I tried to push it out the duct myself, but after a few days it seemed like it wasn’t going to come out on its own. So I decided I would call the ENT the following morning.
Well when I got up and looked in the mirror, I could see the top of the stone sticking out of my duct. I grabbed a qtip and applied slight pressure behind the stone and it just popped right out. This time it as about 2-3times the size of the first stone. But again, more infection came out. So I called the ENT and he prescribed me antibiotics over the phone.
Flash forward about another month or so and the swelling and pain are back. I could also feel a considerable bump under my jaw and if I felt around under my tongue, could feel something very hard deep below the tissue.
I went back to the ENT and this time, finally confirms he came feel a very large stone. He said he felt my gland was diseased and needed to be removed. I asked if he could just remove the stone but he said it was likely I would still continue to have infections even if he removed the stone and pushed for surgery to completely remove the gland.
I went ahead and got scheduled for the surgery. However through conversation with my dentist, he thought it was worth getting a second opinion. He sent me to an oral surgeon, who doesn’t handle removing stones or glands, but had good knowledge of the condition. He examined my gland and agreed it was best to remove it. He explained that my gland was very enlarged and was likely due to scar tissue from the stones cutting into my tissue. He also did an X-ray and confirmed it was about the size of a nickel.
So I went ahead and had the surgery done with my ENT at the end of January. At my post-op appointment my ENT tells me he thinks the stone is still in there, but that it “shouldn’t cause any issues, since the gland was removed”. I was confused, how could that happen if the gland was fully removed. His explanation was that when he cut the connection from the gland to the duct that a ton of infection came pouring out and likely the stone with it. But he again assured me it would just sit in there and not cause me trouble - but in the event it did he would be able to do a simple procedure in office to remove it.
10/11 days after my surgery, I developed an infection that caused rapid and severe swelling. I went back to the ENT and he had to drain the infection and put in a new drainage tube for 4 days. He put me on 2 antibiotics as well. I asked if this was due to the stone and he said no, that I just residual infection from the surgery. I asked about doing an X-ray to confirm if the stone was truly still in there and he said it wasn’t necessary.
The infection cleared up and it’s been about 3weeks since. Now over the last few days I’ve had swelling and infection coming from my duct. I went back to ENT today in hopes he would remove the stone once and for all. Instead he pushed out as much infection as he could (very painfully) and said he thinks he needs to remove the sub-gland - which is a another surgery. I asked why we couldn’t just remove the stone instead and his response was “because if I go in there now and remove the stone, it will cause scar tissue. If removing the stone doesn’t fix the issue and you get infections again, it will be more difficult to remove the sub-gland because of the scar tissue”.
I’m really upset, I feel my doctor is just wanting to go with the most invasive option, instead of trying the stone removal first. My surgery was expensive ($3500 total out of pocket). I’ve depleted most of my savings and still have a balance to pay. I don’t know how I’ll be able to afford another surgery so soon.
I’m going to call some other ENTs tomorrow to see about getting a second opinion, but wanted to see if anyone here has experience with this and can offer any sound advice.
I’m tired of dealing with this, it’s affecting me in multiple ways - even down to being intimate with my partner because I’m nervous about infection being in my mouth. I’ve been on antibiotics off and on for 8 months and every time I start a new round, it tears my stomach up.
I know this was long, I appreciate anyone who stuck around to read it to the end.

Gender: Male
Age: 38
Weight: 250
Height: 6'1
In Dec of 2021 I went for a physical for the first time in a while. I weighed 410LBS, I had sleep apnea, and everything was poorly. I had high liver enzymes, kidney protein was up, pre-diabetic, high cholesterol. From then until now I've lost 160 pounds. I now do CrossFit three times a week and jog (6 miles) twice a week. I've managed to keep the weight off for two years.
My former family doctor asked for repeat blood work but he retired and handed his practice to a new doctor. She went over my currently health:
Current situation:
Resting Heart Rate: 60
Blood Pressure: 121/78
Kidney Function: Normal
Liver Function: Normal
Sugar: Normal
Cholesterol: Normal.
The problem is Kidney Protein. She keeps saying that "a number at or below two is ideal" and mine is 2.2, which she says could be the pre-cursor to kidney disease, kidney cancer or leukemia. She's a very jumpy person and has entirely freaked me out. Our other doctor was calmer, and said my weight was causing problems. My previous Kidney protein level was like 20. It's now down to two. She kept saying it was "bad" but only wants repeat blood in 3 months. On the whole I feel great, I'm up at 5AM for CrossFit, I have tons of energy, I don't drink and have nothing resembling a "symptom" of anything. My question is:
- What does "two" mean?
- How critically bad is this?
- Should I find a way to call an oncologist/nephrologist?
- Is there something I can do?
​
Really appreciate everyone's feedback.

Here are a number of parody songs that I have collected or created over the years. I am planning to have a sing a long some time this year with my D&D friends- just an idea if anyone else wants to do similar.
Enjoy!
Turn, Turn, Turn (Turn, Turn, Turn by Crosby, Stills and Nash)
To all undead (turn, turn, turn) It’s my god’s reason (turn, turn, turn) It’s time to feel my power, a gift from heaven
A time to turn ghasts, a time to turn wights
A time to turn ghouls and spectres and wraiths
A time to turn zombies to dust
A time to turn liches, well at least next level
No need to fear (turn, turn, turn) Your priest is here (turn, turn, turn) Turn to me and I’ll deliver
You all from evil
I’ve tried to turn ghasts, I’ve tried to turn wights
I’ve tried to turn ghouls and spectres and wraiths
I’ve tried to turn zombies to dust
But it appears all the undead are liches. Oh No.
Musical Interlude
To all you priests who (turn, turn, turn) From me you can learn (turn, turn, turn) Be sure the undead you are turning don’t turn out liches.
You can try to turn ghasts, you can try to turn wights
You can try to turn ghouls and spectres and wraiths
You can try to turn zombies to dust
But you can’t turn liches who were once good clerics. Join me!
Roll up a 20 (Roll out the Barrel)
Roll up a 20, You need a 20 to save
Roll up a 20, to fail will lead to your grave
Gee, whiz oh golly!
Couldn’t it just make you scream
You had to roll a natural 20 and you rolled 19!
I'm being followed by a Rust Monster (Moonshadow by Cat Stevens)
Oh, I'm being followed by a Rust Monster
Rust Monster, Rust Monster
Leaping and hopping from that Rust Monster
Rust Monster, Rust Monster
Now if his tail should touch my sword
If it should rust, oh my lord.
Now if his tail should touch my sword
Oh, I won’t strike at him no more
And if his feelers touch my shield
Although it crumbles I’ll not yield
And if his feelers touch my shield
Oh I won’t parry him no more
Yes, I'm being followed by a Rust Monster
Rust Monster, Rust Monster
Leaping and hopping from that Rust Monster
Rust Monster, Rust Monster
Oh if my armour turns to dust
His tongue strikes out and makes it rust
Oh if my armour turns to dust
Oh I won’t squeak when I walk no more.
And if his mouth my bracers eat
My leggings fall down at my feet
And if his mouth my bracers eat
Oh, I won’t be clothed no more
How on earth did you find me?
I ask that gruesome sight
“I smelt out your lovely armour.”
He said taking one more bite.
Now it’s being followed by a nude fighter
Nude fighter, nude fighter.
Waiting til it meets up with a new fighter.
Nude fighter, nude fighter.
Nude fighter, nude fighter.
Nude fighter, nude fighter.
Roll up a Super PC (My Bonnie Lies Over the Mountain)
An 18 for looks brains and wisdom
Dexterity 18 also,
Constitution is of course a 20
And strength’s naturally 20 you know
Roll up, roll up oh roll up a Super PC, PC
Roll up, roll up oh roll up a Super PC, PC
To roll an 18 is quite easy
You need just a pen for this trick
Add to the die’s other faces
Then every roll is a 6
Spoken: And then you can
Roll up, roll up oh roll up a Super PC, PC
Roll up, roll up oh roll up a Super PC, PC
A battle of epic proportions,
DM verses Super PC
PC has 300 odd hit points
And of course over 30 AC
Spoken: How did he get it? He
Rolled up, rolled up oh rolled up a Super PC, PC
Rolled up, rolled up oh rolled up a Super PC, PC
A dozen odd Artefacts and Relics
A wish whenever he states
100% Magic Resistance
And of course PC regenerates.
Spoken: How? He
Rolled up, rolled up oh rolled up a Super PC, PC
Rolled up, rolled up oh rolled up a Super PC, PC
The rest of the players grow restless
‘Cause Super PC does the lot
He’s massacred all DM’s monsters
Then healed everyone in a jot
DM’s gone through 3 monster manuals
Super PC, gives everyone the creeps
So with the aid of one of the party
A thief cuts his throat in his sleep.
(Change tune to Louie The fly.)
Poor poor PC
Super PC
A victim of DM
DM
In Middle Earth (Penny Lane by the Beatles)
In Middle Earth, there deep beneath the Misty Mountains
A creature weeps because his life is not same
And he curses who it is to blame
Baggins is his name
In Isegard within the high tower of Orthanc.
Saruman the white examines his palantir
And though he’s powerful as can be
Still the dark lord- he should fear
Middle Earth beneath the stars below the sun
Where the precious one of Gollum’s missing
Elsewhere back in
Middle Earth, there is a hobbit in a hobbit hole
He keeps it clean although it’s dug into the ground
Though Bilbo spends a lot of time in town
Still he’s been around
In Middle Earth, there is a wizard with a staff of oak
His flowing beard is coloured like new fallen snow
His fireworks light up the fields below
And his smoke rings glow
Middle Earth beneath the stars below the sun
A wonder are the falls of Rivendell but
Elsewhere back in
In Middle Earth, the wizard smokes his pipe contentedly
We see hobbits walking humming to the inn
And the dark lord’s presence rushes in
Grasping Saruman in his head
Middle Earth beneath the stars below the sun
Where the precious one of Gollum’s missing
Elsewhere back in
Simply Resurrectable (Simply Irresistible by Robert Palmer)
This has to be correctable
This character’s delectable, yeah yeah
That kind of thief’s collectable
Her tracks are undetectable!
She can pick on demand,
A different lock in each hand
And now she’s gone- what a sham!
At the DM’s command?
She’ll never be dead to me because I find her
Simply Resurrectable
Simply Resurrectable
Those goblins had an arsenal,
That’s simply more than plausible
Your killing her is personal!
My loss ain’t reimbursable
She could skirt every law,
Break an armed guardsman’s jaw.
She gives the poor what she steals
Makes some heavenly deals
No she cannot be dead you see
Because I know she’s
Simply Resurrectable
Simply Resurrectable
Simply Resurrectable
(She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went)
Simply Resurrectable
(She's all mine, there's no other way to go)
The girl’s unstoppable
When climbing up a wall
Backstab is deadly
Pickpockets nets a haul
Her face is lovely
Now she’s dead I am appalled
She won’t stay dead long, trust me I’ll find a cleric.
Simply Resurrectable
(She's all mine, tell me healer, you can work the spell)
Simply Resurrectable
(Will she be fine? Healer tell me she’’ll be well)
Instrument Break
Her methods were inscrutable The proof is irrefutable, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh I find her just so missable, huh Our lives are indivisible, yeah yeah
She's a craze I endorse, she was a powerful force
You're obliged to conform cause there's no other course
She was my favourite PC, please tell me that she’s
Simply Resurrectable
(She's all mine, tell me healer, you can work the spell))
Simply Resurrectable
(Will she be fine? Healer tell me she’’ll be well)
Simply Resurrectable
(What d’you mean you need more gold for the spell to work?)
Simply Resurrectable
(Bloody priests, I thought my character was the thief!)
Simply Resurrectable
Love me Kender (Love me Tender by Elvis Presley)
Love me Kender, love me true Steal away my heart
Keep it where you’ve put my jewels
and that’s just the start.
Love me Kender, love me long
Each day the pain grows worse.
For though they say that love is blind,
I saw you take my purse.
Leave me Kender, leave me now
All your pouches filled
You just don’t realise you’re a thief
And you never will
Fun Fun Fun (Fun Fun Fun by The Beach Boys)
Well she got her daddy's sword
And she asked if she could give us a hand now
Seems she forgot all about the mon’stery
Like she told her old man now
Before her daddy could catch her
She went lookin’ for adventure so grand now
And she'll have fun fun fun
'Til her daddy takes her long sword away
(Fun fun fun 'til her daddy takes her long sword away)
Well the orcs can’t touch her
'Cause she swings that mighty sword like an ace now
(She fights like an ace now, She fights like an ace)
She makes a squadron of ogres flee home with the look on her face now
(A look on her face now, a look on her face)
A lotta trolls try to catch her
But she vanishes with nary a trace now
(With nary a trace now, with nary a trace)
And she'll have fun fun fun
'Til her daddy takes her long sword away
(Fun fun fun 'til her daddy takes her long sword away)
Musical Interlude
Well we knew all along
That her scheme was just too good to be true now
(Too good to be true now, too good to be true)
And since he took the sword away
You've been feeling bored a terribly blue now
(Terribly blue now, terribly blue)
But you can come along with me
'Cause I’ve got another sword +2 now
(A sword +2 now, a sword +2)
And we'll have fun fun fun till her daddy took her long sword away
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
And you'll have fun fun fun till her daddy took her long sword away
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
(Woo woo woo woo woo woo woo)
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
(Fun fun fun now her daddy took her long sword away)
The Ballad of the +3 Sword (Norwegian Wood by The Beatles)
I once had a sword
Or should I say it once had me
I just picked it up
Oh what a sword it was +3!
It’s ego was 12 a fact of which I wasn’t aware
So I tried to leave and I found the sword didn’t care
I walked through the halls, wasting my time nothing to find.
Then I turned a bend and then I said, “Oh No Undead!”
The 32 wights saw me coming and started to laugh
I closed my eyes and the started hewing a path. Oh
And when I awoke I was alone that sword had flown Now I use a club isn't it good No Ego wood.
Friar Malone (Molly Malone)
Through dungeon and city Both ugly and pretty Went brave Lawful Cleric, named Friar Malone As she whirled his war hammer
‘Gainst Vampire’s glamour
Crying, "Down with all Evil, Undead Undead, no!"
Undead Undead, no
Undead Undead, no
Crying, "Down with all Evil, Undead Undead, no "
To a graveyard he was going
To where evil was growing
And heard a voice saying “Die Friar Malone!”
His knuckles grew whiter
His holy Symbol grasped tighter
Crying, "Down with all Evil, Undead Undead, no
Undead Undead, no
Undead Undead, no
Crying, "Down with all Evil, Undead Undead, no
But a Succubus found him
And in her lair bound him
And became the foul death of Friar Malone
Now his ghost stalks the ruins
Where his last breath he drew in
Crying, "Down with all Evil, I’m Undead Undead, no
I’m Undead Undead, no
I’m Undead Undead, no
Crying, "Down with all Evil, I’m Undead Undead, no
Cleric Cleric (Daisy Daisy)
Cleric Cleric down on your knees and pray
Brave Sir Derrick, needs you to save his day
We don’t need a fancy healing
But be quick in the dealing
‘Cause we’ll be up the creek and stuffed
If the party’s just you and me.
Wizard Wizard here is my answer true
My last healing was used for the sake of you.
I’m sick of this blasted nursing
And if you keep on cursing,
I’ll use my mace against your face
And crack your smart mouth in two.
Old mate Cleric, don’t misconstrue what I say
But now that Derrick the fighter has passed away
If we’re to survive this dungeon
Now don’t think that I am spongin’
But you and I will have to try
To mates for the next few days.
Wizard Wizard, I see you’ve no spells to use
All your put downs have finally come home to roost
You said my god’s non existant
That I’d not go the distance
Well I laugh last, for I’ve just cast
Word of recall for one not two.
Roll High (Rawhide)
Rollin’ rollin' rollin' Rollin’ rollin' rollin' Rollin’ rollin' rollin'
Rollin’ rollin' rollin' Roll high.
Rollin' rollin' rollin' Though the DM’s frowning
Keep those dice a- rollin'
Roll high
Opaque, clear or crystal
Good dice are rare as mythrall
Wishing my dice were rolling high
All the rolls I'm missin' My lucky die I’m kissin' It’s gonna say if I live or die
Roll a 4, Roll a 6, Roll an 8, Roll a 10
Roll a 12, Roll a 20, Roll high!
Roll a save, Roll to hit, Roll to chose, Roll your damage
Roll DC, Role play, Roll high!
Grinin’ grinin’ grinin’
Though the DM’s winnin’
Keep those dice a spinnin’ roll high
Don’t try to beg or plead ‘em
Just roll and hope and read ‘em
Soon it will show up low or high
DM’s calculatin’ what monsters are a waitin’
Waiting for my lucky die to die
Roll a 4, Roll a 6, Roll an 8, Roll a 10
Roll a 12, Roll a 20, Roll high!
Roll a save, Roll to hit, Roll to chose, Roll your damage
Roll DC, Role play, Roll high!
The Holy Grail (Gilligan’s Island)
Now sit right down and I’ll tell a tale.
A tale of a fateful test
Eight paladins rode off one day
For a one fortnight quest, a one fortnight quest.
The DM started getting rough
The monsters big and tough
If not for the courage of the fearless knights
The quest would be lost, the quest would be lost
The paladins all filed into
A tiny cup filled room
There was Galahad and Arthur too,
Sir Tristram and Gawain.
Gareth and Lance
Sir Robin and the knight in green
Questing for the Holy Grail

The results are in for Match 4. The winner is…
“Tell of the storm-tossed manager, O Muse, who wandered long after she sacked the… whatever it was she sacked. Many the monsters whose towns he saw, whose ways she proved; and many a pang she bore in her own breast at sea, while struggling for her life and her Stand’s safe return. Yet even so, despite her zeal, she did not pass through unchanged,” said a blue Stand, watching over the wine-dark sea. A glimmer of sand, of sea spray, of myths told and retold glinted in the ocean sun as Al continued their cross continental journey. Their exaltation faded to naught but a whisper on the breeze.
“Of this, O goddess, daughter of Zeus, speak as thou wilt to us.”

Val Yao, with a score of 80 to Dirty Ghost’s 69!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Valentine Yao	12 (2.5+2) - 18 (4.5+2)	Voters greatly enjoyed both strats, but ultimately the fates smiled more fortunately upon Valentine!
Quality	Valentine Yao	21 (7 7 7) - 24 (8 8 8)	Reasoning
JoJolity	Valentine Yao	26 (7 10 9) - 28 (8 10 10)	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10	No length penalties here!

Val Yao and Dirty Ghost would still be at sea for many weeks to come, but Izuru Boniface Marianus had not been completely correct in his claim that none save themselves knew where they were and what they were up to. The spirit of Dead Drop Bay watched their epic journeys across the sea, recording it in their glowing azure coins.
Dirty Ghost lashed their ship against the oncoming storm, knots pulled taut and boards reinforcing the vessel, even as Val Yao’s painting came undone, progress washed away each night by the salt sea. Their initial rations kept both well-nourished for now, but each still would need to restock and prepare for the further challenges awaiting them on the horizon…
If you're not sick of all this water, there's a "friendly spar" between an idol and a figure skater in a desert oasis!
Scenario: Ibiza, Spain — 11:03AM
In a cafe on the shores of the island of Ibiza, Jamir took a sip from his café con leche and let out a contented sigh. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders—for the first time in roughly two years, he was free from the grip of the Millennium Collection and the Atrocity Exhibition. No more evading Frederick’s omniscient gaze, no more babysitting Marione to make sure she didn’t turn into a world-ending monster again, no more Dirty Ghost and…whatever it was doing. None of that mattered. He felt, for the first time in a long time, hope; genuine, no-strings-attached, hope.
His worries weren’t tempered completely, though. Izuru seemed to be slipping closer and closer to the edge by the day, and he had the nagging feeling that something big was coming over the horizon. To borrow a phrase from Izuru, the “final act” was approaching. Jamir did his best to keep a finger on the pulse of Dead Drop Bay, searching for opportunities outside of the reach of the bloodthirsty dogs of the Millennium Collection. At least now he felt better equipped to deal with whatever fate threw at him next.
Speaking of keeping a finger on the pulse, the phone conversation in the next booth over sounded very interesting. The person on the phone, a peacock of a man, appeared to be a part of the Rinascita Artist Collective, judging by his fancy dress, his obnoxious demeanor, and the fact that he mentioned Rinascita by name loud enough for Jamir to hear.
“Yeah, I just watched the concert vid you sent,” he said through a mouthful of food. “Mid as hell. Like someone ate a gallon of rainbow food coloring and took a shit on stage. Complete disgrace to call that horseshit anything close to art.”
Ibiza…that performance with Izuru, Neon and Atlas was only a few months ago, but it felt like years with how hectic Jamir’s life had become. Good times.
“Anyway, you still good to come to the party at Valencia with me?” the artist continued. “Anyone who’s anyone at Rinascita’s gonna be there. I can only bring one plus one, so you better decide quick.”
And just like that, an opportunity. Jamir casually leaned over the booth and tapped the artist on the shoulder.
“I mean it - hold on, I’ll call you back.” The artist glowered at Jamir. “What do you want?”
“Apologies, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You see, I’m an artist, and I believe I saw that performance at Ibiza that you mentioned. Personally, I think it was an artful display of creativity and passion-”
The artist laughed loudly and obnoxiously. “You’re shitting me! You call that consumerist drivel “art”? It’s all just fancy lights and colors meant to appeal to an audience too stupid to appreciate real art. The art world’s going down the fucking toilet.”
“Ah, but who’s to say that a toilet cannot be a piece of art itself?” Jamir wondered aloud. “Take Duchamp’s Fountain—obviously, a piece which an artist like yourself has probably studied a hundred times over. A urinal turned on its side, submitted for an exhibition but banned for its artist’s perceived lack of effort, caused an uproar that shook the foundations of modern art and gave birth to a whole new movement of conceptual art. To evoke an emotion, any emotion, in its audience…is that not the mark of true art?”
The artist stared at Jamir, mystified. “Well, ‘true art’ ain’t worth shit if people aren’t paying to see it, right? I’ve sold a few paintings you could buy a house with.”
“Oh yes, I suppose you’re correct. Though, if I recall, a copy of Fountain sold for $1.76 million in 1999, so someone must have seen it as ‘true art’. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“M-man, you’re seriously pissing me off,” sputtered the artist, his confidence clearly shaken. “How do you know what ‘true art’ is, huh?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t,” Jamir sighed. “I was hoping to find answers from a more successful artist than I. And that ‘party’ you mentioned sounded like a wonderful opportunity to talk to one.”
The artist huffed. “I’m a member of the Rinascita Artist Collective, dude. You’re nothing. You wouldn’t be invited to the party in a hundred years.”
“I suppose not. What a shame. I was looking forward to learning under an accomplished artist like you.”
The artist tapped a finger against the table, annoyed. Jamir innocently sipped his café con leche.
“Fine,” the artist growled. “You want to see real artists? You got it. The party’s in two weeks. Get ready.”
Jamir smiled thankfully. That was almost too easy.
Scenario: Málaga, Spain — 6:03 AM
10538-2095 found herself back at the scene, the Picasso museum. Last time she’d been here, she’d found herself fused to a teammate into a superior being, a cyborg she and Ninian, at least in the moment, would have preferred to remain. But where this fusion and return had given Ninian answers, even cracked the Scot’s egg, if 2095 understood the metaphor correctly, it had left the android only with more questions. Returning from Type-03’s victory, 2095 had gone catatonic.
After the events in Türkiye and her time on the trail of the information-broker ｢Aerials｣, both for the Sultan of Swing and Ashen Memoriam, she’d found some peace, the ability to focus on moving forward, living in the now, rather than hunting through her data for lost memories. She’d made friends beyond just the scope of the Bastards and really begun establishing a sense of self. But really, 2095 knew she was just running from that overwhelming deluge she’d felt last time she was here, the experience of dozens of lifetimes of sensations all at once.
So why had she been continually drawn here? It wasn’t mere ‘gravity’, the series of coincidences that drew Stand users to one another, but some other, more primal instinct. The urge to return to the scene of a past trauma, overpowering the desire to run away… A biological explanation, but not one impossible to render in code.
2095 would have continued to spiral like this had another figure not entered her field of view, and a familiar one: Doctor Dott, the Rinascita artist who had fused her to Ninian in the first place.
“Hello!” cried the not-actually-a-doctor. “You’re back!”
“Indeed,”replied the android, perhaps relieved her conversation partner spoke in as clipped a manner as herself. “I suppose I could say I returned in search of further understanding of ‘true art.’ Or art at all.”
“It’s an interesting subject,” Dott agreed. “I’ve thought about it many times. After our last collaboration I’ve been considering the nature of ‘shocking art’.”
“Shocking art?” 2095 asked.
“Art meant to bring out a sort of shock or surprise from the audience. It could even be horrifying!” Dott explained. “Our exhibit was probably shocking to some people! Marina Abramović’s Rhythm 0 would be another example.”
The name sounded familiar. Perhaps in her knowledge banks there was something…

Marina Abramović Rhythm 0 was a six-hour work of performance art presented in Naples in 1974. The work involved Abramović standing still while the audience was invited to do to her whatever they wished, using one of 72 objects she had placed on a table. A sign next to the table explained that anyone who sat across from her could do anything they liked with the objects with her bearing full responsibility for their actions. There were no separate stages; the purpose of the piece, she said, was to find out how far the public would go: "What is the public about and what are they going to do in this kind of situation?"

“If I understand correctly, the artist was repeatedly assaulted throughout the night,” said 2095.
Dott nodded. “Her clothes were shredded with razor blades. One attendee even tried to shoot her. They were stopped by another audience member. But even this was ‘art’: if it invokes an emotion in you, it’s art, no matter how shocking it might be. And in this case the emotions were shock, fury, violation.”
“And in our piece, would the emotion I felt be pain?” 2095 wondered aloud.
Dott’s face immediately fell. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. At least Abramović knew what she was getting into. Here,” she continued, thrusting an envelope into 2095’s hands. “It’s an invite to a party. Lots of other Rinascita folks will be there. I didn’t feel like going anyway. Too many people. Too many fake smiles. But maybe it’ll be good for you! Get your mind off things. You know?”
2095 nodded, not completely understanding, but appreciating the gesture. Speaking to Doctor Dott was always a confusing enterprise, but somehow she felt this had given her a bit more self-insight. Maybe the party would be good for her, in some way. Pain refused to be ignored, but in a situation like a party, surrounded by new people…she had to exist in the present moment, process the pain differently than just sitting with it. Meeting new people, making new memories. This would be an anvil on which to undeniably forge her identity.
Scenario: Valencia, Spain — 9:54 PM
In a private ballroom in the Feria Valencia Convention and Exhibition Centre overflowing with laughter, gossip and drink, the wealthiest members of the Rinascita Artist Collective delighted in elegant revelry. The ballroom was a kaleidoscope of colors, each guest’s outfit more extravagant than the last—exotic bird feathers, loud color palettes, and altogether impractical capes and headdresses filled the space like an overgrown jungle path.
For once, Charvet Champagne didn’t feel like the center of attention, and he thanked whomever was watching for that. The anonymous invitation promised a night of fun, food and a private performance from famed Spanish guitarist Carmelita Salmorejo. While Charvet’s connection to Rinascita was tangential at best, he didn’t mind getting away from his hectic schedule. His stomach growled, staring at the plates of fine tapas on display at the all-you-can-eat buffet table. They wouldn’t mind if he sneaked one bite, would they?
“Oh my god, is that Charvet Champagne?” An unfamiliar voice trilled. “Come here, I simply must hear about your skincare routine in person!”
…shit. Next time, then.
He grumbled to himself and brushed past 2095, awkwardly holding a glass of wine with no idea what to do with it. She smiled politely at anyone who stopped to stare at her and did her best to make small talk. Dott was right—approximately 94.7% of all of the smiles directed in her direction were fake. Seemed like the guests weren’t interested in straying outside of their cliques. Time for plan B.
2095 listened intently to the conversations around her, auditory receptors tuned to pick up any common words or phrases that she could link to important figures in Dead Drop Bay. After a few minutes, two names caught her attention. The first was Lucetta Domani, the head of the Rinascita Artist Collective—every single guest at the party appeared to be linked to Lucetta in some way. The second was somebody called “the Czar.” While 2095 didn’t recognize the name, the main topics of gossip revolved around him and Lucetta. According to the chatter, the Czar had been involved in a feud with her for some time, and some theorized that this party was an olive branch meant to be the first step in resolving the feud for good. 2095 stored the information in her memory banks for later, and downed her glass of wine in one gulp.
On the other side of the ballroom, Jamir half-listened to his artist companion’s rambling as he surveyed the crowd himself. Unlike 2095, he knew exactly who the Czar was; he had hoped to meet the enigmatic Erasmo el-Amin in-person, in fact. But he was mysteriously absent from his own party.
“...and that’s how I got my membership in Rinascita,” the artist said through a mouthful of chorizo. “Course, Lucetta helped get my foot in the door, but everything after that was all me.”
“Interesting,” Jamir lied. “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me for a moment.”
Jamir weaved through the crowd, making introductions and glad-handing along the way. His artist friend was not alone, it appeared—almost every member of Rinascita present at the party got their start in the Collective because of Ms Domani. Why invite them, and not her?
He gently pushed on the exit door, intending to make a stealthy exit to snoop around some more. Nothing. He frowned and pushed again, more forcefully this time.
“Hm. That’s a fire hazard,” he joked to no-one in particular. A cursory examination of the frame and the hinges revealed no faults whatsoever, at least from this side. The door didn’t seem stuck at all, but it still wasn’t budging…as if it were sealed shut.
Before he could investigate further, the house lights dimmed. Spotlights lit up the stage on the other side of the ballroom, and the party chatter petered to a halt. The performance was about to begin.
The curtains rose, revealing a person sitting on a stool with an ornate flamenco guitar in hand. Their black Cordoba hat was cocked to one side, their wavy brown hair reaching down to their shoulders. He wore a tailored black-and-gold suit vest over a white button-up dress shirt; a long red traje de flamenca dress covered his bottom half. Her dark-skinned features were scattered with vitiligo markings which stretched across her arms and down to her fingers. The party guests applauded appreciatively as she leaned down to speak into the microphone stand in front of her.
“Hello, I’m Carmelita Salmorejo,” she smiled. “I hope you enjoy the show.”
After accepting the next round of applause, Carmelita settled into her stool and began to play. Their fingers danced across the strings, following the quick tempo that they tapped out with their dress shoes. 2095 had downloaded a few flamenco performances before the party to study in case she needed to make more light conversation. This piece sounded like an original song, one which required quite a bit of technical skill required to play it this well.
Suddenly, 2095 sensed movement. All around the ballroom, a dozen humanoid figures shimmered into existence. They appeared to be made entirely of water, with completely blank facial features and deep blue traje de flamenca dresses that flowed behind them like liquid. They stepped forward in perfect time to the music, clapping along to the beat as they advanced towards the unaware guests.
2095 rose from her seat, summoning ｢Yours Truly｣ to her side. Behind her, the only other two guests who could see the figures followed suit—Charvet gasped, the tiny rat units of ｢Freakum Dress｣ crawling onto him, and Jamir arrived at his seat with a wry smile.
“Jamir, where’d you go?” His artist companion swiveled around, wine glass in hand, clearly not his first or even fifth. “This is a hell of a show-”
CRACK!
A flamenco shoe smashed into his jaw, sending his drink flying out of his hand and spilling over the floor.
All at once, pandemonium erupted. Guests screamed and scrambled over tables and chairs to get to the exits, only to be knocked out cold by swift kicks from the watery dancers. 2095 dodged out of the way of one dancer and slammed her fist into its torso—in a spray of water, it burst and disappeared. Strong, but fragile. Good to know.
“Look out!”
2095 ducked, avoiding a crescent-shaped blade of water that sailed over her head and sliced the champagne glass tower on the buffet table clean in half. The dancers twirled and spun and more projectiles shot out of the edges of their dresses. But just as soon as they did, many of the dancers exploded into a burst of liquid, tiny objects speeding through their “heads”. Another Stand?
“Mes Freakums, attaquez!”
She heard Charvet’s voice before she saw them. Tiny mice crawled onto the dancers and began to spin, their pointed noses becoming a drill that they used to dig themselves into the liquid bodies of Charvet’s attackers. The Stand bodies swam into the dancers, forming internal whirlpools that twisted and contorted their once-perfect forms into a mass of collapsing liquid flowing across the floor. Five, six of them collapsed at once, and another few were already disintegrating before Charvet laughed defiantly.
“Oh ho ho ho! That’s right, I defeated you beasts! I, Charvet Champagne, will no longer let ruffians push me around! From this day forward, mes Freakums et moi will blaze a trail forward and set my own path in life!” Charvet proudly declared, beginning to twirl in place. “I will dance to the beat of my own rhyt-”
Charvet’s declaration was cut off, as he stepped forward and slipped on one of the puddles he had so proudly created a moment ago, falling on his face.
With a flourish, Carmelita strummed their final chord and, for the first time since their performance began, looked up at the ballroom. She gazed at the groaning, mangled bodies of the party guests with a look of mild disappointment.
“Tough crowd,” she muttered. Then, a slow applause began, and their expression brightened.
“What a song. What a performance!” Jamir exclaimed as he sauntered to the middle of the dance floor. “I have heard much about the great Carmelita Salmorejo, but nothing compares to hearing you in-person.”
2095 stared at Jamir in confusion. “She almost killed us all. She almost killed you.”
“If it makes you feel something, it’s art. Fear, exhilaration, the thrill of a near-death experience…how could I not applaud a piece like that?”
“Finally, somebody who appreciates my work!” Carmelita grinned, flicking his hair out of his face. “Whenever I perform, I want everyone in the audience to dance along, not just my Bailaoras. Sometimes, they just need a little kick up the backside. Gwee-hee-hee-hee~”
Jamir grinned back. Carmelita bought his ruse hook, line, and sinker. He took a step closer, extending his hand to shake.
“Jamir O’Santos. A pleasure to finally meet.” Internally, Jamir primed ｢Planet Home｣’s fist to strike at Carmelita the moment they got in range.
Smiling, Carmelita extended her hand towards Jamir. But at the last second, she pulled back and strummed another chord on her guitar. In an instant, a line of faceless dancers sprang in front of the stage, forcing Jamir to leap backwards to avoid concussion via shoe.
“Sorry, O’Santos. No handshakes until the end of the set.” Carmelita regarded 2095 with a glint in his eye. “That goes for you too, señorita.”
2095 met her eyes from underneath the brim of her cap, steel in gaze and spirit.
“Ah, but you will not live to see it,” Carmelita sighed melodramatically. “How unfortunate that I am under strict orders to ensure the deaths of everyone in this ballroom. Until you are broken under the beat of my ｢Corazón Espinado｣, this performance cannot end.”
“Unless…we give you what you want,” Jamir called out. “A performance of a lifetime. A dance of audience and artist, merging together as one. Right?”
2095 almost slapped Jamir before she realized what he meant. “If we dance with you, will you let us go?”
Carmelita rested her chin on her hand, thinking hard. “Hm…that does sound like an interesting idea…and if he asks about it, I can always lie…”
He shrugged. “Eh, what the hell.”
A dramatic strum summoned even more Bailaoras, spread across the ballroom floor and around the shattered tables and spilled wine.
“Just to make things interesting, I’ll be ordering my Bailaoras to attack you for the rest of the performance. Whoever destroys the most Bailaoras when my song ends wins…something. I’ll figure it out later.”
Jamir glanced at 2095, noting her grim expression. “Hey, could be worse. Least we don’t have to fight each other for once. No hard feelings?”
2095 nodded hesitantly. “No hard feelings. Best of luck.”
Carmelita spun their guitar, a manic grin spreading across her face. “As the saying goes; dance ‘til you drop!”
OPEN THE GAME! (Shoutouts to u/TreeTurtle_852 for the match art!)
Location: A ballroom, the area here is 32 by 32 meters (2x2 tiles) with 2095 and Jamir represented by their character tokens.
The Brown circles are dining tables and the Brown shapes in each corner of the map are long tables. The tables are furnished with table cloths, chairs, silverware, wine bottles, and small food platters appropriate for the venue.
The Blue faces are Carmelita’s Bailaoras, Stand created constructs/minions made out of water. More info under Additional information.
Goal: Defeat more of Carmelita’s Bailaoras than your opponent before she finishes her performance! The full performance is 10 minutes, or until both players are defeated, whichever comes first. Direct combat between players is disallowed.
Additional Information: The Bailaoras have C Power, B Speed, and D Durability. They all fight and move to the pace of the music, though there is no set tempo given flamenco music’s structure of being able to gradiently and suddenly shift from slow to fast and vice versa. (We highly encourage both teams to listen to a few example pieces to get a general feel for the driving rhythms.) Although they are otherwise objects, they are treated as “non Stand using persons” with respect to ｢Planet Home｣’s and ｢Yours Truly｣’s abilities; specifically they thus cannot be contracted with or rewinded.
Generally their movements follow a choreographed dance routine, moving through the room rather than chasing after players, but they will position themselves in such a way where they can attack players in their dance’s path.
In terms of dancing, the Bailaoras are able to ‘improvise’ to dodge glancing blows and avoid stationary obstacles/obstructions while moving in time to the music. Their choreography is structured in such a way that they do not go past a 5 meter radius of where they initially spawned (though you can expect them to make full use of the area they are given).
Their primary method of attack is to use their feet to stomp and kick at anything within arms length of them with C POW force. They can also spin their dresses to create short ranged water cutter projectiles with C POW cutting force around them, effective up to 2 meters. The sleeves of their dresses can also fire these projectiles with their movements. They always attack in rhythm to the music, coinciding with major beats and fast paced sections of the song.
Their bodies are composed of a loosely-solid water. If you hit it with a strong enough force, the impact will cause the impacted area to break apart. However all their attacks cannot harm one another.
During slow sections, the Bailaoras enter a flowing state where all physical attacks will harmlessly pass through their watery bodies as they gracefully move and dance around the ballroom.
As the match progresses, Carmelita will summon more Bailaoras on cue to song transitions roughly every 30 seconds. Each wave of additional Bailaoras is more or less evenly distributed across the map and contains 12 more Bailaoras, meaning that more than twelve may be on the stage at once.
For the purposes of this match, the players both effectively have a 2 skill in Flamenco dancing.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Bastards of Barcas	10538-2095	"Four steps...Five steps." You’ve watched others dance and socialize, now it’s time to put what you’ve learned into motion. Express yourself through dance, movement, and positioning!
Atrocity Exhibition	Jamir O Santos	"Wait. Why did he take only 5 steps?" There’s style to be had in simplicity and reservation! Express yourself through dance, movement, and positioning!

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A man purchased the home nextdoor to mine as an investment property. He has rented it out to a tenant that has 4 large, unaltered dogs that he lets out all at once, that all charge/attack the fence if I am outside alone or outside with my dog. My dog is not reactive, but of course runs to the fence at the threat. One of his dogs has climbed the fence while I was pulling my dog away, and nearly made it over it. The neighbor's dogs are aggressive (growling, bearing teeth, trying to bite through the fence) and do not stop until I retreat inside by myself or with my dog if we are both in my backyard. The neighbor never comes outside to retrieve or correct the dogs, ever, no matter how much audible mayhem there is. I've had other neighbors check on me because of the audible commotion, yet the tenant never comes out at all or calls his dogs or anything once he let's them out. They don't have access outside unless he let's them out.
I spoke to the neighbotenant and mentioned what was happening and asked to exchange numbers so I could get a warning when he was letting his dogs out. He said he "wasn't really into that" and "oh man wow" and gave a hat tip goodbye and closed the door.
I alerted the landlord, who told me the neighbor only has two dogs on the lease and would talk to him. I followed up after a week, and the landlord said the tenant would be returning two of the dogs to an ex. I followed up after another week of no changes, and the landlord said the tenant would be now rehoming two of the dogs or he would be charging the tenant more. I appreciated his effort but mentioned it would not solve the issue, that I can't use my backyard at all and have developed anxiety at even letting my dog outside or grilling or relaxing on my porch etc. I offered training help, offered to share the expense of a privacy fence on that side, asked him to offer the tenant again as I had before to please text me a few minutes before letting his dogs out so I could go in or take my dog in (not even for permission to let his dogs out - just as a heads up to me, and to allay my anxiety of all four dogs bursting out his door in one second ans all at the fence frothing at the mouth and scaling it suddenly - which I think is an overly fair to the tenant solution). He didn't respond.
It's been 3 weeks, and I reached out again to the landlord saying it was escalating and mentioned the neighbor's dog scaling the fence, and that it was inexcusable to solve this issue with increasing the rent of the tenant because only he benefits from that, and I live here; that as a homeowner here of seven years I now can't even use my yard peacefully, ever, and nor can my dog, and am trying to help. He has not responded in 5 days.
There isn't a HOA in my neighborhood that I know of. It's a normal, very quiet, middle class neighborhood and I know multiple other neighbors have also complained (and none nearly as kindly as I feel I have). I'm a bleeding heart for dogs, and I know they haven't been taught any better, and don't want any harm to come to the dogs.
I live in Missouri. What can I possibly do? How can an investor just buy a home to rent out and allow a tenant to terrorize surrounding homeowners who can't just pick up and move? I really don't want to cause any problems. I really don't. But I am at a loss.
Thank you for reading.

“Out of everyone, I never thought it would be you,” Dad murmurs. His head is tipped back, eyes closed from exhaustion or pain. He sounds tired, but his laboured breathing, the frail cadence of his voice, fills me with rage. Suddenly, the degree in my hand feels worthless, just like all my past attempts to prove that I am enough. “If it were up to you, it never would have been me,” I snap and then wince. That’s not what I want to say, though it is true. I’m dancing around the pain that ties us together, that has always connected us in a way that no one will ever understand. Who would have thought that the man who hurt me most, who broke me so thoroughly that I would be fit for no one but him, would also be my only ally left in the world. I bite my lip and look away. Crying is all I’ve ever been able to do when faced by you, but now my tears feel cheap, feigned. Tears have never gotten me anywhere so why do they appear now, when they cannot fix you or all you have done? I feel your hand move to cover my own. Your skin is like old paper; dry and thin. I want to squeeze the knuckles on your fingers as tightly as I can. I want you to flinch away from my touch. I want you to feel pain because it is proof you are still alive, and because hurting each other is the only way we know how to be. I have never been honest with you a day in my life. I know I will return home tonight and lie awake thinking of what I wish I could have said. I imagine teary reunions where you apologize for what you did to me. I dream it is enough while knowing it isn’t. Your words will never be enough. Why is it that even now, knowing this will be one of our final visits together, all I can do is fight? Old habits die hard. “Do you hate Ian?” you ask me, and your breath wheezes in and out of your chest. I can see your collarbones beginning to show through your t-shirt. Your face is swollen from the medication and painkillers, but your bones and veins are stark beneath your skin. It’s as if your body is deflating from your toes, and all that’s left to do is push the air out of your head before you collapse to the ground like an empty balloon. You open your eyes briefly, and I see that familiar brown gaze. You have hazel irises with a slightly green hue; it is a colour that brings a bitter taste to my mouth for it reminds me of blood and fear. But now you are pitiful, feeble. And I love you more than when you were well. Cancer has made you human when physical strength and a life of success never could. I do hate Ian. I want to scream it from the rooftops and spray paint it on the streets. I hate Ian. I hate that he is your brother, and I hate that he is weak. Though he has never raised a hand to me, his words are biting, as is his certainty that I don’t deserve your love. I much prefer your anger to his. “Ian… Is struggling,” is what I tell you instead and I want to throw my fist through the dry wall. I’m protecting you again, the way I have since I was a child. I’m refusing to say what deserves to be spoken aloud, refusing to acknowledge the rage that is smothering this house and everyone in it. I think Ian is too much like you, but what’s the point in saying so. Is it habit? Is it my despair? Perhaps, I don’t know how to tell the truth; I don’t know how to speak to you when I know you cannot harm me anymore. “He’s scared,” you say, as if that is enough. As if one man’s pain is justice for all the hurt he has caused. How unfair of you. Fear never mattered before, never stopped you though I begged and cried. You are different now, a stranger to who I knew. No, this is all wrong. Why do we spend our breath pretending we are people we are not? If I could be honest for a second, I think I would finally tell you the truth. If we were alone, and I could not hear your brother hovering beyond the doors, monitoring you. Maybe, if I could bear to remind you of who you were before you got sick, I would be able to say what needs to be said. I think in another world, in a universe just like ours, you’d understand too. I’m scared, Dad. I’ve been scared my whole life. I swallowed my pride; I debased my soul. I never told another person what you did to me, though my pain was all the proof in the world. I craved your hateful touch that smothered and burned. I found a place among the horror, found meaning in being spurned. Before you, I was in an orphanage; I have been unwanted since I was born. And now you are preparing to leave, and I cannot follow you to the place you will go. After all this time. After all we have done. You are going to die, and I don’t want to be alone. “Are you afraid?” I ask. In my mind, I say ‘Daddy, I’m terrified. Please don’t go.’ “No, I’m ready,” you whisper, and a tear slips down your swollen cheek. I think it should be me, not you; I am weighted by my grief. “That’s enough,” Ian steps into the room. He saw your tears; he knows I have upset you. “Your Dad is tired, visit another time,” he says and there is no room for discussion. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed. I stand and rub at my eyes. I didn’t mean to make you feel sad, I wish I could spare you from the hurt I feel every moment of every day. I regret my time spent here, though I cannot bear to be away. Honestly, I regret being born into the world. I wish I had been drowned as a babe. “Promise me that you won’t hurt yourself,” you say before I can go. “Promise that you’ll stay alive,” you demand and catch me by the wrist. Your head hangs heavy, your chin drifts towards your chest. “I promise,” I say, and my voice breaks around the word. I want to argue, ‘You promised that you would love me, and wasn’t that a lie?’ You drop your hand, and my skin prickles in the absence of your touch. “Goodnight, Dad,” I whisper because I know I won’t return. This is the last time we will be together, our final memory before you go. “I love you,” you say, before I step out into the frosty night. “I love you too,” but you know I do, and it was never enough. I love you so much, Dad. A love that was always pure and true. I love you, but you don’t know what love is, though you think you do.

Height: 174 cm
Weight: 71kg
Race: Caucasian
Primary complaint: Vertigo
Duration: 15 days
Country: Switzerland
Alcohol: very occasionally , maybe twice a month
Smoking: no
Recreational drugs: no
Existing medical issues:
- Extreme sleep problems since 15 years ago (insomnia, delayed phase), some very decent improvement in recent years (insomnia practically gone, sleep schedule also much better)
- Memory problems since 10 years ago
- Chronic fatigue syndrome since 4 years ago (manifesting as sore throat + flu-like symptoms in cold weather, no fever) - improved greatly in last 2 years with immunomodulation therapy
- 1 year ago, wisdom tooth extraction gone wrong caused an oroantral communication on the right side of my mouth. Had a repair surgery but only partially successful. A very small communication remains.
Current medications:
- Luivac bacterial lysate for immunomodulation for two months per year in winter for chronic fatigue syndrome
- Ashwagandha 800mg intermittently for memory issues and brain fog. Have not taken any for two months prior to my problems.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Hello, about 10 days ago quite the rollercoaster of neurological symptoms has been set off for me. The doctors have no idea what's wrong with me. Hence I turn to the internet for assistance. I will summarize my symptoms as they appeared, more or less day by day:
Day 1: I had an extremely strange sensation on my face unlike anything I have felt before. It was on the left bottom corner of my nose, shooting into my upper lip. It was not pain, not pressure, not numbness. The closest word I would have for this feeling is soreness. It was extremely unpleasant to the point I could not work and lasted for about 15 minutes. I then recalled having the same sensation once or twice the week prior, but no other symptoms followed. Since then, this feeling has not re-appeared.
Day 2: A slight migraine followed on this day, but nothing major. Some minor headaches, sensitivity to light etc, but I could work and function normally. My left eye (same side as the feeling the prior day) started intermittently twitching on this day.
Day 3: I started having vertigo, diarrhea and nausea on this day. No vomiting. At this point I stopped going to work. Trying to eat makes me feel as if I have rocks in my stomach.
Day 4: I felt some minor difficulty controlling my left leg but at this point I was so anxious about my health situation that I was unsure if I was imagining it or not.
Day 5: I felt some minor difficulty controlling my left hand. I decided to visit the ER. Neurological examination done, blood tests, brain CT with contrast. All came back clear. Released the same day with referral to a non-emergency MRI.
Days 6-7: Symptoms intermittently come and go. I felt some gradual resolution of some symptoms. Beginning to notice some minor pain, pressure on the right side of my head. Sometimes on the temple, sometimes on the top of my head. Starting to wake up randomly in the middle of the night even though I am normally an extremely deep sleeper. I tried attending a meeting at work remotely but it exhausted it me so much that I had to go lay down for two hours.
Day 8: Problems with vision begin. Had problems reading some text on a computer screen. I'm a software engineer and I have been reading the same exact type of text for the last 6 months, so I knew that something was wrong, as I normally had no problems with this. I feel pins and needles for about an hour in my left foot.
Days 9-10: Problems with vision continue. Other symptoms keep coming and going. Usually worse in the morning, get better throughout the day. The most prominent symptoms are vertigo, diarrhea and nausea. I would describe the visual disturbances as a very slight ever-present aura in almost my entire field of vision that ever so slightly interferes with my vision. When closing eyes, there can sometimes sometimes be stars, streaks or flashes. A very disturbing thing that I saw when closing my eyes at one point was a spinning circle, divided into four quarters with red-green-blue noise in each quarter. At one point I also saw it when I accidentally shone a flashlight into my eyes. At a certain angle the beams from the flashlight lit up like a christmas tree - a very bizzare experience. It has not come back since. My anxiety and stress from all this hit their peak during these days. Basically preparing for death at this point.
Day 11: Got my MRI done (3-tesla, with contrast). Came back clear.
Days 12-13: Thoughts feel garbled in the morning. Feel very high fatigue in the morning. Other symptoms keep coming and going. Pain/pressure on the right side of my head becomes more noticeable.
Days 13-15: My fiancée arrives from abroad for the weekend to morally support me. Some symptoms begin to resolve, visual problems improve as well, but when looking at detailed moving imagery, I get a visual sensory overload (ripples in water, grass in wind).
Day 15: I wake up without any symptoms. We go to an all-you-can-eat to celebrate. The noise from all the people and clinging of dishes very quickly overloads me and exhausts me. Many of my symptoms return. That evening lack of control in my left arm and leg returns, stronger than before. I feel tingling in my testicles
Present day: Lack of control in left limbs resolved. Most prominent symptom is visual. I feel like anything I look at creates a faint aura that slightly interferes with my vision. I watch a Youtube video of two people sitting and discussing something for 5 minutes. I close my eyes and I see the outline of the computer screen and the outlines of the two people for 20 seconds. I feel stiffness in the back of my neck.
Summary: Most symptoms are intermittent and come and go. The most prominent symptoms are vertigo, nausea, diarrhea and recently also visual disturbances. I lost 3kg due to worrying, having low appetite and not enough energy to prepare meals for myself.
Any ideas how i can deal with this trainwreck of a situation? I am scheduled for an optometrist (to check intracranial pressure) and an ENT (to check if there is a problem with my right eustachian tube or inner ear because of the oroantral communcation - I do feel quite some cracking in there). I am all okay neurologically according to the neurologists, apparently :))
Any leads on which specialists I should consider visiting would be most welcome. I'll take any breadcrumbs you can throw at me.

I have noticed that some common noots have vanished from the market and have since been replaced with hydrazide versions i.e., Phenylpiracetam Hydrazide.
There are several posts regarding the effects of these with the non hydrazide versions, but what I am concerned about is their safety e.g., neurotoxicity.
I did some poking around in the literature and found something that might be nothing as science is far from my discipline. So looking for some interpretations:
In a nutshell, what I am reading is that hydrazines are bad for human health. OK, who cares? Well if Hydrazides behave similar to hydrazines, does that mean there is a risk?
Copy and pasted from sources:
"Hydrazides behave similarly to hydrazines, because an alkyl or an acyl radical bound to the NH end of NH-NH2 does not influence significantly the reactivity of the NH2 group.[1]"
Hydrazines are highly toxic inorganic liquids that are used as propellants in military and aviation industries… Exposure to small amounts of hydrazine and its derivatives can cause significant soft tissue injury, pulmonary injury, seizures, coma, and death. Neurologic presentations can vary based on exposure compound and dose.[2]
Hydrazine sulfate has been claimed to be effective in the management of cancers [1,2] and has been promoted as an alternative cancer cure [3]. However, double-blind, randomized, placebo-controlled studies have suggested no benefit from hydrazine [4–6], and it is itself carcinogenic. Hydrazine can arise as a metabolite of drugs such as isoniazid [7] and atazanavir [8] and may be involved in isoniazid-induced hepatotoxicity [9]. Hydrazine-containing fuels are used as propellants for missiles and in jet aircraft, and occupational exposure can cause adverse reactions.[3]
[1] https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/chemistry/hydrazide
[2] https://doi.org/10.1093/milmed/usaa429
[3] https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/nursing-and-health-professions/hydrazine-sulfate

“Out of everyone, I never thought it would be you,” Dad murmurs. His head is tipped back, eyes closed from exhaustion or pain. He sounds tired, but his laboured breathing, the frail cadence of his voice, fills me with rage. Suddenly, the degree in my hand feels worthless, just like all my past attempts to prove that I am enough. “If it were up to you, it never would have been me,” I snap and then wince. That’s not what I want to say, though it is true. I’m dancing around the pain that ties us together, that has always connected us in a way that no one will ever understand. Who would have thought that the man who hurt me most, who broke me so thoroughly that I would be fit for no one but him, would also be my only ally left in the world. I bite my lip and look away. Crying is all I’ve ever been able to do when faced by you, but now my tears feel cheap, feigned. Tears have never gotten me anywhere so why do they appear now, when they cannot fix you or all you have done? I feel your hand move to cover my own. Your skin is like old paper; dry and thin. I want to squeeze the knuckles on your fingers as tightly as I can. I want you to flinch away from my touch. I want you to feel pain because it is proof you are still alive, and because hurting each other is the only way we know how to be. I have never been honest with you a day in my life. I know I will return home tonight and lie awake thinking of what I wish I could have said. I imagine teary reunions where you apologize for what you did to me. I dream it is enough while knowing it isn’t. Your words will never be enough. Why is it that even now, knowing this will be one of our final visits together, all I can do is fight? Old habits die hard. “Do you hate Ian?” you ask me, and your breath wheezes in and out of your chest. I can see your collarbones beginning to show through your t-shirt. Your face is swollen from the medication and painkillers, but your bones and veins are stark beneath your skin. It’s as if your body is deflating from your toes, and all that’s left to do is push the air out of your head before you collapse to the ground like an empty balloon. You open your eyes briefly, and I see that familiar brown gaze. You have hazel irises with a slightly green hue; it is a colour that brings a bitter taste to my mouth for it reminds me of blood and fear. But now you are pitiful, feeble. And I love you more than when you were well. Cancer has made you human when physical strength and a life of success never could. I do hate Ian. I want to scream it from the rooftops and spray paint it on the streets. I hate Ian. I hate that he is your brother, and I hate that he is weak. Though he has never raised a hand to me, his words are biting, as is his certainty that I don’t deserve your love. I much prefer your anger to his. “Ian… Is struggling,” is what I tell you instead and I want to throw my fist through the dry wall. I’m protecting you again, the way I have since I was a child. I’m refusing to say what deserves to be spoken aloud, refusing to acknowledge the rage that is smothering this house and everyone in it. I think Ian is too much like you, but what’s the point in saying so. Is it habit? Is it my despair? Perhaps, I don’t know how to tell the truth; I don’t know how to speak to you when I know you cannot harm me anymore. “He’s scared,” you say, as if that is enough. As if one man’s pain is justice for all the hurt he has caused. How unfair of you. Fear never mattered before, never stopped you though I begged and cried. You are different now, a stranger to who I knew. No, this is all wrong. Why do we spend our breath pretending we are people we are not? If I could be honest for a second, I think I would finally tell you the truth. If we were alone, and I could not hear your brother hovering beyond the doors, monitoring you. Maybe, if I could bear to remind you of who you were before you got sick, I would be able to say what needs to be said. I think in another world, in a universe just like ours, you’d understand too. I’m scared, Dad. I’ve been scared my whole life. I swallowed my pride; I debased my soul. I never told another person what you did to me, though my pain was all the proof in the world. I craved your hateful touch that smothered and burned. I found a place among the horror, found meaning in being spurned. Before you, I was in an orphanage; I have been unwanted since I was born. And now you are preparing to leave, and I cannot follow you to the place you will go. After all this time. After all we have done. You are going to die, and I don’t want to be alone. “Are you afraid?” I ask. In my mind, I say ‘Daddy, I’m terrified. Please don’t go.’ “No, I’m ready,” you whisper, and a tear slips down your swollen cheek. I think it should be me, not you; I am weighted by my grief. “That’s enough,” Ian steps into the room. He saw your tears; he knows I have upset you. “Your Dad is tired, visit another time,” he says and there is no room for discussion. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed. I stand and rub at my eyes. I didn’t mean to make you feel sad, I wish I could spare you from the hurt I feel every moment of every day. I regret my time spent here, though I cannot bear to be away. Honestly, I regret being born into the world. I wish I had been drowned as a babe. “Promise me that you won’t hurt yourself,” you say before I can go. “Promise that you’ll stay alive,” you demand and catch me by the wrist. Your head hangs heavy, your chin drifts towards your chest. “I promise,” I say, and my voice breaks around the word. I want to argue, ‘You promised that you would love me, and wasn’t that a lie?’ You drop your hand, and my skin prickles in the absence of your touch. “Goodnight, Dad,” I whisper because I know I won’t return. This is the last time we will be together, our final memory before you go. “I love you,” you say, before I step out into the frosty night. “I love you too,” but you know I do, and it was never enough. I love you so much, Dad. A love that was always pure and true. I love you, but you don’t know what love is, though you think you do.

I was expecting a creepy painting or a scary doll. Instead, the haunted/cursed objects that were being carried into the gallery were surprisingly modern: a plasma TV, a recliner armchair, a turquoise necklace, a miniature fire station, and even an animatronic singing fish. Without additional decor, the exhibit looked more like a yard sale.
The haunted/cursed objects exhibition was another low-effort stunt by professor Eric Melvin. He asked us student assistants to help with setting up the show, but we all politely declined. I was not going to touch any of those cursed things.
​
I was an art student at a community college near Shady Grove, Maryland. I applied for a job as a student assistant so that I could have a place where I could put my things down between classes. My jobs were to make photocopies, answer the phones, and look after the art gallery on the first floor. Other student assistants and I also took turns guarding the gallery until 8 pm.
​
Professor Melvin was one of those professors who thought he was too good for this little community college. I took his art history class once. His teaching slides were just blurry photos that he took of the pages from a textbook.
Even this haunted/cursed exhibition stayed true to his minimal-effort brand. All the haunted/cursed objects in the exhibition belong to a single person, an art collector in New York.
​
The owner had a list of rules for her objects, but Melvin never bothered to look at it. I decided to read the rules aloud so that the professor can hear.
​
Dear profesor Melvin. Thank you for your interest in my collection. All of these objects have caused numerous misfortunes and deaths in the past. It is my sincere wish to not add any more tragedy to the collection’s history.
​
Melvin shook his head and scoffed. If this guy was not a believer then why did he host this exhibition, I wondered. I hope he wasn’t planning on breaking the rules to prove a point.
​

• Rule 1: Do not be in the same room as the objects when the lights are off.
• Rule 2: Do not allow pregnant women anywhere near the haunted/cursed objects.
• Rule 3: If one of the objects makes a sound or lights up without anyone touching it, the best course of action is to just ignore it, EXCEPT for the miniature fire station.
• This is unlikely to happen, but if the little light bulb above the front door of the miniature fire station starts to flicker, cover the entire thing with a piece of cloth that I provided and call me immediately.

​
The most dangerous object in my collection is the plasma television.
My collection contains both cursed objects and haunted objects. Haunted objects are possessed by spirits and can cause fear, while cursed objects are deadly to anyone who interacts with them. This plasma TV is both.
I guess it is pointless to ask you to not plug it in and turn it on. If you must turn it on for your show, then pay close attention because the plasma TV has its own set of rules.
​

• Plasma TV’s Rule 1: Do not change the channel. If you or someone else did, you must change the channel back to channel 33.
• Plasma TV’s Rule 2: Do not connect any other device to the TV.
• Plasma TV's 3: This is the most important rule. Do not let any person with the last name Sutter go near the television.

​
On the first night, I was guarding the gallery with another student assistant. We behaved just like any other night as we just sat in the mailroom and watched YouTubers play Dead by Daylight. We could see what was going on in the gallery next door through the CCTV monitor.
​
At 7.50, both of us heard a very loud thud coming from the gallery. I didn’t see anything abnormal on the CCTV, so the other assistant and I both walked over to the gallery to check.
​
A bird with a broken neck was laying dead right in front of the plasma TV. It must have flown into the building and hit its head on a column. That was enough for me to freak me out and call it a night.
​
I had to turn off the lights and realized that the light switches were at the back end of the gallery. Not wanting to break rule number 1, I told the other student assistant to keep the door open and light the room up a bit with her phone’s flashlight. I shut off all the lights and ran out the door.
​
The other student assistant asked me what I would do the next night when I have to guard the gallery alone. I told her I would probably just leave the gallery’s lights on for one night.
​
I got to the mailroom the next day at around 10.00 AM and there was a commotion. One of the haunted/cursed objects, a turquoise necklace, was missing. I asked our supervisor bluntly if it was our fault, but one of the professors said he saw it early that morning which means that it wasn’t stolen overnight. Melvin could not be reached by phone, so I just went to class.
​
In the evening, it was time for me to guard the gallery alone, and I just watched Ohm plays Dead by Daylight to pass the time. I looked over at the CCTV monitor and saw a lanky man in ragged clothing staring at the plasma TV. Normally, a strange person walking into a gallery would not be a cause for concern. I mean, that was the point of having an exhibition.
​
But, two things made me run to the gallery. One, I could see that the man had a flickering glow on his face, which meant that the TV was turned on. It wasn’t supposed to be plugged in and turned on until the official opening on Friday. And two, he was changing the channel.
​
The man did not notice me despite the fact that I made a lot of noise. He kept staring at the plasma TV with his mouth slightly opened, seemingly in a trance. Upclose, I could see that he was unshaven and his eyes were bloodshot red. His fingers kept pushing the button that changed the channel.
​
I did not know what to do. The man broke the rules, but no one knows the rules except us assistants and Melvin. I can’t tell the security guard to kick him out just because of his disheveled appearance. This is a public college, so he has the right to be there as much as anyone else.
​
When it was near closing time, I realized that the man was not going to leave. I called my supervisor and she said to ask the security guards at the front of the school for help.
​
I brought two security guards back with me to the gallery. Once we arrived, we found the man seemingly strangling himself on the floor in front of the plasma TV. The TV screen showed a very old black-and-white clip of a man strangling another man. One of the security guards rushed in to help the man while the other one radioed his superior to call for an ambulance. I didn’t know what to do and just backed away from the chaos.
​
Then, an elevator next to the gallery made a sound. Something was coming down from the fourth floor. No one should have been upstairs since this was already past 8 pm, and our building did not have any night classes.
​
Once the elevator door was opened, a cleaning lady turned around. Her eyes were gouged out and there was blood all over. She held her hands up and ran out the elevator toward me. She tried to grab onto my shirt collar but her hands missed, and she collapsed on the ground. She was wearing the missing necklace.
​
I was so scared, I was on the floor and didn’t even remember falling. The security guards, who looked shocked and traumatized themselves, told me that I didn’t have to wait for the paramedics with them. And so, I just bolted home.
​
The next day, there were a lot of professors gathered at the dean’s office. I thought this was going to be about the cleaning lady and the man, who I later found out was named James Sutter. But, this was about professor Melvin.
​
Another professor found professor Melvin dead in his house. He fell down the stairs and broke his neck. She said his body was contorted in an unnatural way, with his legs twisted and wrapped around the stairs’ railings. He died with his eyes wide open, glaring intensely at whoever would walk through the front door.
​
While everyone was talking about all that went down, I glanced over my shoulder and saw a reflection of a small blinking light from within the gallery. I didn’t have to look, I knew that it was the light coming from the miniature fire station.

Here is how 'hold the door' happens in the books, what the twist means for Bran's quest, and why it will truly be one of the 'holy shit' moments of the series.

Giants in the earth

As of the end of ADWD, Bran, Meera, Bloodraven, Hodor, about 60 Children of the Forest, and (maybe) Jojen are residing underground in a cave that is under siege by wights.

"The ward upon the cave mouth still held; the dead men could not enter. The snows had buried most of them again, but they were still there, hidden, frozen, waiting. Other dead things came to join them, things that had once been men and women, even children." - Bran III, ADWD

While the ward on Bloodraven's cave prevents the dead from entering, the dead have already begun to gather. We know they will eventually break through, but how? What do we know of in the story that allows the dead to cross magical barriers?
The Horn of Joramun (feel free to skip ahead if you already know this theory).

"If I sound the Horn of Winter, the Wall will fall. Or so the songs would have me believe. There are those among my people who want nothing more . . ." Mance Rayder (Jon X, ASOS)

As the songs go, the Horn of Winter brings down the Wall, thus breaking the magical barrier between the Seven Kingdoms and the lands beyond the Wall. Three blasts for the Others.
The horn burned with the fake Mance Rayder is revealed to have also been a fake, but it's near certain that Sam is unknowingly in possession of the true horn, with Euron setup to arrive in Oldtown and somehow trigger the horn being blown.
What does any of this have to do with the cave? Well the horn doesn't just bring down the Wall.

"Yes," Mance said. "The Horn of Winter, that Joramun once blew to wake giants from the earth." - Jon X, ASOS

Wake giants from the earth doesn't mean literal giants come out of the ground. It's a way of describing earthquakes. The Horn of Joramun uses the roots of the Weirwoods AKA the Old Gods to create earthquakes, and when the horn is blown from the Hightower, it will summon them across the continent. This will not only break open the wall, it will disturb the hollow hill where Bloodraven resides, allowing the dead to enter.
Ironically, the horn will wake another giant within the earth for his final act. A gentle giant that goes by the name Hodor.

A toy knight and a twisted game of hide and seek

"Is this the only way in?" asked Meera.
"The back door is three leagues north, down a sinkhole."
That was all he had to say. Not even Hodor could climb down into a sinkhole with Bran heavy on his back, and Jojen could no more walk three leagues than run a thousand. - Bran II, ADWD

Once the dead enter the cave, Bran, Meera, and Hodor will make their way three leagues north to the back door, at which point Meera will need to help Bran climb up the sinkhole to make their escape.

In the book, Hodor has stolen one of the old swords from the crypt. Bran has been warging into Hodor and practicing with his body, because Bran had been trained in swordplay. So telling Hodor to ‘hold the door’ is more like ‘hold this pass’ — defend it when enemies are coming and Hodor is fighting and killing them. A little different, but same idea.” - GRRM

As stated by GRRM, Hodor will be warged and made to fend off the oncoming wights using a sword taken from the crypts.

"Ser Rodrik should teach me to use a poleaxe. If I had a poleaxe with a big long haft, Hodor could be my legs. We could be a knight together." - Bran VII, AGOT

So Bran will get to live out his fantasy of being a knight.

"Bran was going to be a knight himself someday, one of the Kingsguard." - Bran II, AGOT

A great knight that fights the monsters.

"Hodor likes stories about knights*. I do, too."
"Hodor," said Hodor agreeably.
"He likes the stories where the knights fight monsters." - Bran II, ASOS

All he has to do is forcibly use Hodor's body like a toy.

They went quicker with Hodor's help. Once he had been taught to do something, he did it deftly. His hands were always gentle, though his strength was astonishing. "You could have been a knight too, I bet," Bran told him. "If the gods hadn't taken your wits, you would have been a great knight." - Bran II, ACOK

Seriously this kid is obsessed with knights.

^{"Still," said Bran, "how many knights?" - Bran VI, AGOT}

It's actually incredibly sad.

"… sooner die than live like that," muttered one, his father's namesake Eddard, and his brother Torrhen said likely the boy was broken inside as well as out, too craven to take his own life.
Broken, Bran thought bitterly as he clutched his knife. Is that what he was now? Bran the Broken? "I don't want to be broken," he whispered fiercely to Maester Luwin, who'd been seated to his right. "I want to be a knight." - Bran VI, AGOT

But for the gentle Hodor, knighthood will be an absolute terror.

"Anyhow he never fights." He remembered once when he was little, going to the market square with his mother and Septa Mordane. They brought Hodor to carry for them, but he had wandered away, and when they found him some boys had him backed into an alley, poking him with sticks. "Hodor!" he kept shouting, cringing and covering himself, but he had never raised a hand against his tormentors. "Septon Chayle says he has a gentle spirit." - Bran II, ACOK

Anyways, this is how the nightmare begins.

It’s an obscenity to go into somebody’s mind. So Bran may be responsible for Hodor’s simplicity, due to going into his mind so powerfully that it rippled back through time. - GRRM

Bran going into Hodor's mind has always been an abomination, but he has yet to accidentally ripple back through time. So what is so different about trying to get Hodor to hold a door? Does Bran being "wed to the trees" cause him to echo back across time? Perhaps.
But I think the answer is darker...
It's that Bran is forcing Hodor into a suicide mission.

"Be quiet!" Bran said in a shrill scared voice, reaching up uselessly for Hodor's leg as he crashed past, reaching, reaching.
Hodor staggered, and closed his mouth. He shook his head slowly from side to side, sank back to the floor, and sat crosslegged. When the thunder boomed, he scarcely seemed to hear it. The four of them sat in the dark tower, scarce daring to breathe. - Bran III, ASOS

At first Bran will make Hodor protect the door by slipping into his skin and fighting. But when the fighting becomes too intense and Bran must climb to safety, Bran will begin to shout down 'hold the door' as a command.

"The big stableboy no longer fought him as he had the first time, back in the lake tower during the storm. Like a dog who has had all the fight whipped out of him, Hodor would curl up and hide whenever Bran reached out for him. His hiding place was somewhere deep within him, a pit where not even Bran could touch him." - Bran III, ADWD

After Bran climbs out and it's Hodor's turn to escape, Bran will be unable to find Hodor's presence. So he will seek him by calling out "Hodor! Hoooodooor!" as he makes his way into that pit where Bran has thus far been unable to touch him. His hiding place. And when Bran finally wins their twisted game of hide and seek, what will he find?
The three-eyed crow. Forever echoing the command, "Hold-the-door."

Quoth the Crow "holy fucking shit"

"Are you the three-eyed crow?" Bran heard himself say. A three-eyed crow should have three eyes. He has only one, and that one red. Bran could feel the eye staring at him, shining like a pool of blood in the torchlight. Where his other eye should have been, a thin white root grew from an empty socket, down his cheek, and into his neck.
"A … crow?" The pale lord's voice was dry. - Bran II, ADWD

Before I continue, I should mention the long running theory that Bloodraven is not the three-eyed crow. Bloodraven does not recognize himself as a three-eyed crow, nor does Coldhands or the Children of the Forest. Bloodraven is never described as having a third eye, only ever skinchanges ravens (never crows), and the books consistently make a point to distinguish crows from ravens.
I'm not going to list out all the evidence, but this post does a good job of outlining that the three-eyed crow is not Bloodraven, though I think the post misses the mark on what the crow really is. The 3EC is not some dark lord.
So if not Bloodraven, then what is the three-eyed crow?
Well the obvious answer is Bran.
^{After all, the show has Bran become "the three eyed raven," and as early as season 3 they have Jojen Reed telling Bran "the raven is you."}
But even if we ignore the show, book Bran is a time traveler, he considered crows to be his special friends, his name literally translates to 'crow' in Welsh, and Bran climbs the broken tower to feed the crows. It even seems the idea of a three-eyed crow came to Bran from Old Nan's story.

Old Nan told him a story about a bad little boy who climbed too high and was struck down by lightning, and how afterward the crows came to peck out his eyes. Bran was not impressed. There were crows' nests atop the broken tower, where no one ever went but him, and sometimes he filled his pockets with corn before he climbed up there and the crows ate it right out of his hand. None of them had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in pecking out his eyes. - Bran II, AGOT

Maybe there's someone else in there with him, but most likely the 3EC is future Bran.

The explanation of Bran’s powers, the whole question of time and causality—can we affect the past? Is time a river you can only sail one way or an ocean that can be affected wherever you drop into it? - GRRM

But this begs another question.
Is the three-eyed crow the future Bran of the current timeline, or of a different timeline?
The answer is key to the ending of Bran's story.
If the 3EC is the Bran of our timeline, then that means that he will eventually need to go back in time and appear in all of his own crow dreams. Convincing himself to live, taking himself to say goodbye to his father, and even pecking a hole into his own head. He'd also have to appear in Jojen's crow dreams, and maybe even Euron's. It would mean Bran is part of a causal loop and his fate is predetermined.
If the 3EC is the Bran of another timeline, (or even an amalgam of many dead Brans from many alternate futures) then it'd mean our Bran isn't necessarily bound to the same destiny. This would have huge implications for the nature of time and causality within the story, and radically alter our understanding of how prophecy works. It would mean Bran is capable of changing the future.
Either way, I propose that the three-eyed crow is a future manifestation of Bran that exists throughout the dreamscape. A mischievous crow that tells of an ominous future and has likely been seen by Bran, Rickon, Jojen, Sweetrobin, Euron... and even Hodor.
Hodor provides evidence for this all the way back in AGOT.
After Ned is executed, Bran has a disturbing dream where the three-eyed crow leads him into the crypts to see his father. When he wakes up, Bran tries to get Hodor to take him into the crypts, naively hoping to find his father has come home alive.

The mention of dreams reminded him. "I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad."
"And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube.
"It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams. "Hodor won't go down into the crypts."
The maester had only been half listening, Bran could tell. He lifted his eye from the tube, blinking. "Hodor won't …?"
"Go down into the crypts. When I woke, I told him to take me down, to see if Father was truly there. At first he didn't know what I was saying, but I got him to the steps by telling him to go here and go there, only then he wouldn't go down. He just stood on the top step and said 'Hodor,' like he was scared of the dark, but I had a torch. It made me so mad I almost gave him a swat in the head, like Old Nan is always doing." He saw the way the maester was frowning and hurriedly added, "I didn't, though."
"Good. Hodor is a man, not a mule to be beaten." - Bran VII, AGOT

But for some reason Hodor is afraid to go down. This is odd because Hodor is not normally afraid of the crypts, and spends two months hiding in them without issue.
When asked about Hodor's fear of the crypts, GRRM had this to say:

"Hodor was only afraid of the crypts =at that specific time.= Not before and not after." - GRRM

We are never given the reason why Hodor is afraid of the crypts that morning specifically, but we can use his ending to solve the mystery.
Notably, Bran was not the only person at Winterfell who was guided into the crypts that morning. Rickon seemingly received the same dream.

"Rickon," Bran said softly. "Father's not here."
"Yes he is. I saw him." Tears glistened on Rickon's face. "I saw him last night."
"In your dream …?"
Rickon nodded. - Bran VII, AGOT

Bran and Rickon both dream of the crypts on the same night, and when they wake both believe there is something down there. And so does Hodor. But unlike Bran and Rickon who hope to go down and find their father, Hodor is afraid of what the dream made him believe he'd find.
Except Hodor isn't scared of Ned, nor Shaggydog or Rickon or Bran. Hell he isn't even scared of Bloodraven. Yet he dreamt something would be in the crypts that made him frightened to go down into them. That something is the three-eyed crow.

On this night he dreamed of the weirwood. It was looking at him with its deep red eyes, calling to him with its twisted wooden mouth, and from its pale branches the three-eyed crow came flapping, pecking at his face and crying his name in a voice as sharp as swords. - Bran II, ACOK

It should be no surprise that the three-eyed crow would frighten Hodor. The crow is scary. It's foretells a grim future, the dreams it appears in are violent and stressful, and for Bran the 3EC dreams are even physically painful.

"Fly or die!" cried the three-eyed crow as it pecked at him. He wept and pleaded but the crow had no pity. It put out his left eye and then his right, and when he was blind in the dark it pecked at his brow, driving its terrible sharp beak deep into his skull. He screamed until he was certain his lungs must burst. The pain was an axe splitting his head apart, but when the crow wrenched out its beak all slimy with bits of bone and brain, Bran could see again. - Bran II, ACOK

What's more, the 3EC even has a tendency to repeat the same commands over and over.

Bran still feared the three-eyed crow who haunted his dreams sometimes, pecking endlessly at the skin between his eyes and telling him to fly. - Bran I, ASOS

For Bran, the command is "fly or die." For Hodor, the command is... well I think you know.
To summarize:
Hodor has had the 3EC in his head for years. It broke him a long time ago, it visits him in his dream and pecks his skull without mercy, and it resides in the deepest part of his mind, calling him to his fate. Endlessly echoing the command. Hold the door. Holdthadoor. Holdador. Hodor. Hodor. Hodor.
It's some fucked up Edgar Allen Poe shit.

The human Bran in conflict with himself

"I've always agreed with William Faulkner—he said that the human heart in conflict with itself is the only thing worth writing about. I've always taken that as my guiding principle, and the rest is just set dressing." - George RR Martin

I'm not the first to propose the three-eyed crow as a Bran from the future, but it does introduce a big thematic question. Isn't the point of 'hold the door' that our Bran is the one that does it?

"The boy cannot use his legs to command the animal, so you must shape the horse to the rider, teach it to respond to the reins, to the voice. I would begin with an unbroken yearling, with no old training to be unlearned," - Bran IV, ACOK

The idea of future Bran finding the biggest, strongest man at Winterfell and then shaping his mind so that the Bran of the past can more easily use his body... doesn't that take responsibility away from our Bran? Doesn't that make the twist less impactful?

"A wild stallion will buck and kick when a man tries to mount him, and try to bite the hand that slips the bit between his teeth," Lord Brynden said, "but a horse that has known one rider will accept another. Young or old, these birds have all been ridden. Choose one now, and fly." - Bran III, ADWD

But ask yourself, what is really worse, for Bran to to violate Hodor's mind so much that he breaks him on accident? Or for Bran to violate Hodor's mind so much that he realizes that his future self has broken Hodor on purpose?
After all, Bran has already been abusing Hodor to cope with his own physical limitations. He knows warging Hodor is wrong, but he does it anyways. And when the monsters come, Bran is will force the gentle giant to fight to his death. So if Bran enters the inner sanctum of Hodor's mind when forcing Hodor to sacrifice his own life, only to find that his future self has always been there calling Hodor to that very fate, then can Bran consider himself innocent? Did Bran not go into Hodor's mind to give the exact same command?
Essentially, 'hold the door' is not just about the past and the present. It's about the future. It's a warning about what Bran is fated to become.

"I've been telling you for 20 years that winter was coming. Winter is the time when things die, and cold and ice and darkness fill the world, so this is not going to be the happy feel-good that people may be hoping for. Some of the characters [are] in very dark places. .... Things get worse before they get better, so things are getting worse for a lot of people." - GRRM

GRRM has described Winds as a very dark book, and I expect hold the door to be one of the darkest moments of the series, but also one of the most poignant. The relationship between Bran and Hodor is not only an allegory for the relationship between leaders and the people they send into war.
At the climax of Winds, Bran will be a little lord commanding a man to die in battle. He can rationalize that his situation was life or death, or that he had no other choice, or that he and Hodor exist within a context that neither of them created. But the twist is that Bran was, is, and will be the architect of that context. So Bran always had a choice, and when death comes knocking, he will make the same selfish choice he has already made.

No one wants to hurt you, Hodor, he said silently, to the child-man whose flesh he'd taken. I just want to be strong again for a while. I'll give it back, the way I always do.
No one ever knew when he was wearing Hodor's skin. Bran only had to smile, do as he was told, and mutter "Hodor" from time to time, and he could follow Meera and Jojen, grinning happily, without anyone suspecting it was really him. - Bran III, ADWD

Bran rationalizes taking Hodor's flesh as if borrowing another child's toy. Yet on some level he knows it's wrong, that's why he rationalizes, and that's why he keeps it a secret. He does it because it's the only way he can walk again. Sometimes the situation is life or death, but remember why they are put into the life or death situations in the first place.

What was he now? Only Bran the broken boy, Brandon of House Stark, prince of a lost kingdom, lord of a burned castle, heir to ruins. He had thought the three-eyed crow would be a sorcerer, a wise old wizard who could fix his legs, but that was some stupid child's dream, he realized now. - Bran III, ADWD

It was never truly a quest to save the world. On every level, Bran commits the abomination of stealing Hodor's flesh because he cannot accept himself for what he is.
In conclusion:
The story of Bran Stark is of a boy who cannot accept being broken and thus seeks out the three-eyed crow to fix himself. Yet the pursuit of magic takes him down a dark path that ultimately has him breaking someone else. The true "villain" of the time traveling little lord's story is not Euron and the Others, nor is it Bloodraven and the Children the Forest. It's the three-eyed crow. Bran's conflict is with himself.
The narrative purpose of the three-eyed crow is to face Bran with the future. Not just the death of the world, but what that death will turn him into. And upon being faced with that future, Bran must come to terms with the person he is becoming. Is he fated to be Bran the Breaker? or can he accept himself as Bran the Broken?
As for what the three-eyed crow really wants... I think the answer is shockingly simple and straightforward and we've already been told. But instead of getting into it here I'll just let people share their evil Bran tinfoil which I will inevitably disagree with.
​
TLDR; When Hodor meets his doom, Bran will finally enter the deepest part of Hodor's subconscious. Upon reaching Hodor's hiding place, Bran will find the three-eyed crow, infinitely echoing the command "hold the door." The three-eyed crow is future Bran, and it has always been there in Hodor's mind, calling him to his fate. Reducing him to his utility.

TL;DR at the bottom if you want to skip my short story.
Long story short, I was diagnosed with SIBO and candidiasis related to constipation/bloating I was having, as well as low Vit D. I was prescribed:

• Nystatin tablets 3x/day
• Biocidin tablets 3x/day
• Vitamin D liquid drops, 4,000 - 5,000 IU/day

Two weeks into this regimen, my reflux is the worst its ever been. Full or completely empty stomach, doesnt matter. I can taste it in my mouth all day. Only thing that helped for a couple days was when I went to urgent care and got the "GI Cocktail" (Maalox and lidocaine), but taking Maalox on my own doesnt touch it.
Nystatin has no reports of reflux as an adverse effect, and neither does Biocidin (you see the reviews here). The only other thing is the Vit D, and I found this article with over 140 comments of people on high doses of D getting terrible reflux. I saw some other posts like this on here, but unfortunately they're all archived and the users aren't active anymore.
--------------
TL;DR - I was told by a NP to take 4000-5000 IU/day of vitamin D, and I have good reason to believe that this is causing this absolutely TERRIBLE reflux that affects me even on a completely empty stomach. There are archived posts about this, but has anyone else here experienced this, or even solved it? Or just give me some advice? I'm really going through it bad :( :( :( :(

ok so, not really but i just need to let this out. i have a diagnosed anxiety disorder, i’m on antidepressants and i’m going through a lot of stress right now, i need to look for another job, i have problems with my family and legal problems among other things, this high level of stress has been happening for 3 years now.
i’ve been a hypochondriac ever since i can remember, my “go to” illness has always been cancer, i think it’s because a really close family member died from it and i saw how it affected everyone around me. if you ask me how many times i’ve “had cancer” it would be over 100 times, i get headache? cancer. i feel dizzy? cancer. my body aches? cancer. finally after therapy i overcame it and stopped feeling that way… until covid. covid really fucked me up. i started actually going out and doing things only this year because i was still terrified of the virus. i did get covid las year cause a family member never took it seriously, i saw them end well… i was so angry. but it wasn’t the first time that i had covid tho, before this i had convinced my self that i had covid at least 5 times. even if i hadn’t gone out at all i would still feel the symptoms. and now is happening again, every time i go out and enjoy myself the next day i feel i have covid. i have gone to the doctor twice now and it’s not covid, the first time it was nothing and second it was an infection. yesterday after 4 years not only did i saw the ocean but i got to dive into the ocean, i was so happy and today i woke up feeling like shit, the way i’ve been feeling for months now after i’m happy. i think is too early to get a test but i don’t think is covid, but i’ve been feeling this way too many times now and i’m tired of it.
i was doing amazing only a month ago, going out, meeting people, finally making friends… i don’t know what is happening to me.

Last night I took about a roughly 2-3ish gram dose and I was having a great time feeling amazing euphoria, getting some of my first visuals experience. At the time I was hanging out with my two dogs like usual, 1 is a bigger sized pit and the other (which is actually my sisters dog) a small pug.
It was late about 11pm at night and the dogs had way too much energy and were playing too loudly in the house, so I started calming things down and had the pug sitting in my lap and the pit laying by my side for awhile. Well something had happened that made the pit jump up and get alerted and the pug likes to follow up with the other dogs reactions so she also jumped up out of my lap to follow up the pit. But unfortunately as the pug tried jumping off my lap, before I could catch the dog, her leg got caught and tangled in one of the openings on the chair and by the sounds her leg and cries made it woke the whole house up and possibly the neighbors.
Everyone came around me outside trying to figure out what had just happened and why the dog is crying and can’t walk on her back leg. I already have lots of issues with my stress and self confidence and communication, and how I handle it so I’m now starting freak out because of what I had just caused to this poor dog that I love so much and my family that moment. Other people are now stressing out about this back leg that’s possibly broken because of me and causing major discomfort for the dog. This started getting me so overwhelmed with what I had just done I couldn’t even talk words, all the stress got me so hot and sweaty and light headed and I got a weird unexplainable tingling/popping feeling all through my body as I’m pacing around my sisters room as her and her BF are trying to understand the situation.
Next thing I know is just nothingness. I can’t make out any of my vision and I can’t hear anything. They finally got me back up and I feel even more of my family yelling stressed out and I can barley make out any of their sounds, I just remember waking and hearing someone yelling about me falling over and to get me help. About a minute later when I regained my full consciousness I see the rest of my family is looking over me telling me to just stop and breath air.
When I was finally able to start thinking and make coherent words come out of my mouth, I could not have felt any more embarrassed and absolutely stupid as fuck. It’s been about a day now and I’m too embarrassed to even look or speak to anyone atm, I’ve just been stuck in my bed all day and I can’t get out for anything. I have things I needed to in life do but I just can’t even handle myself right now I don’t know what to do. I understand it wasn’t necessarily my fault, I didn’t make or want the dog to jump off my lap and get her leg tangled and broken in the chair, i just wanted to spend time with them. I want to do anything I can and pay whatever I can to help this dog but I don’t think my sister and her BF want anything to do with me and especially don’t want me taking any care of that dog.
I don’t even know what I’m posting this for I don’t want anything, I don’t believe it was caused all by shrooms but the shrooms surely didn’t help the stress in my situation it probably made all my feeling enhanced more. I’m just so stressed and embarrassed for the scene I caused I can’t even function properly and I don’t want anyone seeing my face anymore :/ . I tried apologizing so much that night and everyone says they understand but I know they just hate me for all that. I just don’t really have a relationship with anyone to talk to besides the people that are very upset with me and I’m embarrassed with atm, and I hope maybe speaking about it to something might help my guilt and stupidity that I feel. But for now this is just adding more reason why I just hate myself so damn much.

During my last read through I decided to make a list of all the foreshadowing I noticed (some are pretty weak in my opinion but I still noted it. I also made notes of some anime references I liked (I'm sure I missed a lot).
The chapters and page numbers are from the bookwalker app on at iphone 12 mini at 100% zoom. If there's enough interest, I'll continue this through the end of the series and update it as new volumes come out. If you're using this for a youtube video, etc. please say thanks, give me a shoutout, or something.
​
Volume 1
Chapter 2 pg 50
Lilia before being hired as a maid: “She had several stories up her sleeve to use as bargaining chips if she needed to.
Chapter 4 pg 128
Rudeus talking about Paul: “He sounded like the main character from a pretty rapey adult dating sim, boundless virility and all.
Chapter 6: pg 194
Talking about Roxy: “if it weren’t for our age difference, I’d want to marry her.”
Chapter 10: pg 399
Leaning his elbows on the table, Paul shot me a sharp look that brought to mind a certain spectacled commander.
Volume 2
Chapter 3: pg 150
Talking with Ghislaine and Eris about different types of teachers: “She had a goal.”
Chapter 6: pg 279
Roxy’s description of Migurd race in her Demon tongue textbook: People of the Migurd race tend to like sweet things.
Volume 3
Chapter 8: pg 259
If this lady’s still alive somewhere, I’d love to meet her… (talking about Kishirika Kishirisu).
Chapter 10: pg 381
Horseface was starting down at Roxy’s pendant, now dangling prominently around Ruijerd’s neck.
Chapter 14: pg 549
“The use of teleportation circles was forbidden in the aftermath of the Second Great Human-Demon War. Some may remain intact, but using them would likely be difficult.”
Chapter 14: pg 569
“My name is Rodriguez! I am the third student of Auber the Peacock Blade, pupil of the great North God Kalman!”
Chapter 14: pg 575
“If we turned that whole story into a book and got it published somehow, maybe we actually could rehabilitate the image of the Superd to some degree.”
Extra Chapter pg 582
…and finally a place where only white flowers bloomed - the Lily Garden. (Slyphies hair turning white).
Volume 4
Chapter 2: pg 72
“By ‘demon eyes,’ do you mean eyes that can see a person’s lifeline? A line that, if cut, will kill the person with absolute certainty?”
“How horrific! What in the world is that power?! I don’t have anything as terrifying as that!”
Oh well, it’s not like I had plans to target some vampire…
Side story: Missed Connections: pg 175
The youth would discover one of his friends had died, and Roxy would comfort him. That would be their first night together.
Chapter 6: The Beastfolk Children: pg 258
Aah! You can’t, little puppy! I have a wife and husband…!
Chapter 7: Free Apartment: pg 295
Geese. Let’s see, I felt like I’d heard that name before….”Hm? Rudeus…I’ve heard that name before.”
Chapter 7: Free Apartment: page 297
…but I’ve got no interest in men unless they look like women, too.
Chapter 7: Free Apartment: page 298
Geese explained. “Ahh, well, one of my acquaintances from a long time ago was a Doldia, so I came on the off chance I might meet her.”
Chapter 10: The Holy Sword Highway: page 416
(talking about Gesse). He had a charming face, and he wasn’t a bad guy, either. Still, ever since the incident with Gallus, I had the lingering sense that there was something darker behind all of that.
Chapter 10: The Holy Sword Highway: page 423
At the same time, I feared the possible negative impact that much mana could have on the body.
Chapter 10: The Holy Sword Highway: page 431
It was unclear if the cooking had anything to do with what happened after, but the woman did get with the man and the two later married.
Volume 5
Chapter 2: Paul’s Story pg 92
Paul after being teleported figuring out what's happening…It wasn’t really my fault I stepped on it, since our monkey of a scout should have spotted the thing beforehand…
Chapter 4: Reunited pg 179
Gesse Talking to Paul about Rudy’s journey back from Demon Continent about the Seven Great Powers
Paul: “Still, I felt like Rudy really did have the raw talent to make it on that list someday. And I didn’t think that was just my parental pride talking.”
Chapter 4: Reunited pg 202
It was a specific kind of sweet jelly that was very popular with young adventurers lately, having earned a mention in a recent popular ballad about a youthful magician’s adventures.
Chapter 6: One Week in Millishion pg 291
Rudy talking about his figures: they had quality enough to earn the admiration of a certain beastfolk Sword King and a prince in some foreign country, after all.
Chapter 6: One Week in Millishion pg 322
Paul talking about Elinalise: Yeah, the last thing I wanted was to end up as that woman’s father-in-law.
Extra Chapter 1: Dragon Meat, Nanahoshi Style pg 455
Also, what did “Nanahoshi” mean? The term was totally new to me, though it sounded almost…Japanese.
Extra Chapter 2: The Death of Ariel pg 522
As a direct result, Pilemon Notos Greyrat, the foremost member of the Ariel faction, was compelled to make a painful choice that left him in something of a predicament…but that’s a story for another time.
Volume 6
Chapter 3: The Shirone Kingdom pg 72
Rudeus internal monologue when talking to the Man-God - “Hopefully, even if there were unpleasant surprises lying in store for me, they wouldn’t involve such things as serious injury or the death of someone close to me.
Chapter 6: A Speedy Resolution pg 214
Farewell with Zanoba - “All right, Mawstwer. Stay safe! I don’t know where I’ll be shipped off to, but I have a feeling I’ll eventually run into you again!”
Chapter 8: An Adult pg 257
Talking to Rujerd, chapter before meeting Orsted - For some reason, I had a bad feeling about this. This felt an awful lot like the kinds of final conversations characters on TV had before they got killed off.
Volume 7
Chapter 3: Quagmire Rudeus pg 139
At the entrance of the Galgau Ruins: “Still, there’s a chance another party’s still inside.”
Chapter 4: The Forest at Night pg 249
Rudeus after healing a girl during the snow clearing job, “Perhaps something good would come from making a name for myself among those kids.”
Chapter 4: The Forest at Night pg 258
These were a higher ranked sort called the Icefall Treant. I had yet to encounter one.
Epilogue: pg 425
Random adventures talking about Rudeus - “Yeah. Just by having that one guy in their ranks, a group of twenty took down a Red Wyrm Straggler.”
Volume 8
Chapter 2: Entrance Exam pg 109
After all, the first person to introduce themselves was the victor! His mouth kept opening and closing but finally, he managed, “I’m Fitz. A pleasure”.
Chapter 2: Entrance Exam pg 113
That brought back memories: I’d once used an instrument just like that.”
Chapter 3: First Day of School pg 164
“Rudy - um, I mean, Rudeus, was it? What are you doing here?”
Side Story: Sylphiette (part 1) pg 215
It would be devastating to meet someone I liked and be mistaken for a man.
Side Story: Sylphiette (part 1) pg 228
He’d probably keep skirt-chasing even after he got married to someone.
Chapter 6: An Unreachable Power (part 2) pg 319
“Juli…ette, hehe, that’s a good name.” Master Fitz laughed merrily, as if he found something about the name amusing.
Epilogue: pg 423
Elinalise talking to Rudeus, “But they’re all girls. Not surprising, I guess, you are Paul’s son.”
Volume 9
Chapter 4: The Impervious Fiance (part 2) pg 167
After the mating season Rinia and Pursean: “You’re the man, Boss! Thanks again, mew. We’ll give you somethin’ for the trouble soon!”
Chapter 6: The White Mask (part 2) pg 229
“But if magic was really such a fundamental part of this world, wouldn’t lacking it cause you…some sort of problems?”
Chapter 7: A Day at the University of Magic pg 266
Incidentally, the only Divine-tier Detoxification spell I’d heard of was one that cured a strange and terrible illness called Petrification Syndrome.
Chapter 7: A Day at the University of Magic pg 281
Talking about Nanahoshi’s sleeping chambers - Why was she sleeping next to her food? What if it attracted mice or roaches?
Chapter 10: Rain in the Forest (part 2) pg 433
Seeing Fitz/Slyphies face for the first time: I thought I saw a resemblance to her fellow elf, Elinalise…but somehow, her face was more approachable and endearing.
Side Story: Sylphiette (Part 0) pg 511
Fitz seeing Rudy for the first time right before his entrance exam: She was an elf, from the looks of things. Something about her kind of reminded me of my dad.
Volume 10
Chapter 1: Backing pg 18
They were lined up around me and applauding, for some reason. True, it was a special occasion, but it was still kind of embarrassing. Almost like the last episode of a certain TV anime series.
Chapter 2: Things to Prepare Before Marriage (Part 1) pg 51
Something with a garden and room for a big dog might be best…
Chapter 2: Things to Prepare Before Marriage (Part 1) pg 60
There wasn’t much dust, so the real estate agency must…
Chapter 3: Things to Prepare Before Marriage (Part 2) pg 93
A moving doll, Come to think of it, there were other inanimate objects in this world that moved, like armor.
Chapter 4: Dramatic pg 126
“This is a nice basement area. The way it’s built, you’ll hardly ever get mice comin’ in.”
Chapter 11: Three Heads are Better Than One pg 337
It was as if the strings that were holding her up had been cut. (Overlord Reference???)
Volume 11
Chapter 3: The Boss and His Flunkies pg 118
I’d still step in to help Norm if she ever needed me. Hell, I’d be on her professors like a helicopter parent if i had to.
Chapter 6: Life with the Greyrat Sisters pg 227
And up here, you didn’t have any nasty multi-legged visitors scuttling into your house to nibble at your food either.
Chapter 8: Farewells pg 316
I might end up losing something. Like one of my hands, maybe…or one of my parents.
Volume 12
Chapter 1: Arrival pg 44
But Talhand was completely unaffected. I was the only one who couldn’t resist.
Chapter 8: The Guardian of the Teleportation Labyrinth pg 275
Elinalise joined in. “I know of one other person who was once like Zenith is now, and they’re still alive.”
Chapter 11: Looking Ahead pg 341
“What’s that? Sure talkin’ like you know a lot on the matter, Elinalise".
Chapter 16: Before his Grave pg 517
But in this world, Sylphie was understanding. As long as I loved them equally, I could have two or three wives.
Chapter 16: Before his Grave pg 531
“Apparently Sylphie thinks I’m going to take another wife after this…”
Volume 13
Chapter 1: Roxy’s New Job pg 51
Talking about the Zaliff Gauntlet: …Or a hand that turned into a magic cannon on demand?
Chapter 1: Roxy’s New Job pg 72
We found Nanahoshi looking somewhat the worse for wear. She might have caught a cold or something since she was coughing like crazy.
Chapter 6: A Water King is Born pg 276
It might be nice to come out of the city to fish on a sunny day…
Chapter 11: Graduation Day pg 525
Talking about Rinia: I wasn’t feeling too reassured. I had this gut feeling she was going to blunder along with a bunch of half-assed ideas and land herself in deep trouble.
Volume 14
Chapter 1: Floating Fortress pg 50
As we passed through the gate, white particles suddenly started falling from Sylphie’s body as she walked ahead of me. In fact, those same particles were falling from my body as well.
Chapter 2: An audience with Perguis pg 69
Your mana closely resembles that of Laplace. If you were determined to resist me…
Chapter 2: An audience with Perguis pg 75
The mana flows through them as a result transforms them. They all lose their memories, without exception, and in return, their body is infused with a mysterious power.
Volume 15
Chapter 13: Explanations pg 505
Anyway…his (Orsted) story was coherent enough, but something about it felt a little off somehow.
Volume 16
Chapter 1: The First Mission pg 30
For instance, we could persuade the princess to focus more on magical research or strengthening the military.
Chapter 1: The First Mission pg 47
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Orsted assured me. “Even if we fail, there is always next time.”
Chapter 5: Working Together pg 176
“Oh, truly? In that case, perhaps I should have said hello to him. He was intimidating enough from afar that it made my legs tremble. If I heard his voice up close, I might wet myself.”
Chapter 9: Before Traveling to Asura Kingdom pg 389
Or, more precisely, he seemed to think he could always try again if the first attempt failed.
Chapter 9: Before Traveling to Asura Kingdom pg 469
My concern with her was whether or not she would settle down and behave while pregnant.
Volume 17
Chapter 4: Ariel’s Choice pg 128
Presumably, I wasn’t escorting her to the toilet. Some people might get off on having others watch them do their business, but I didn't see any reason why she’d pick me for that role.
Volume 18
Chapter 2: The Borrowed Cat pg 88
“Lara sure doesn’t cry much and she doesn’t smile either. It kind of worries me,” Sylphie mumbled… I didn’t see the big issue, personally. I mean look at her, she looks super conceited. You could tell by her face that she was gonna be a hotshot someday. No doubt about it.
Volume 19
Chapter 2: Bad Omens pg 69
Lara was supposed to be some sort of messiah,...but maybe she’d been born with special powers of some kind.
Chapter 11: Aftermath pg 448
He was recounting a story about one of the Man-God’s previous disciples…”The Demon King of the Biegoya Region, Badigadi.”
Volume 20
Chapter 5 pg 291
I wasn’t sure why, exactly, but Lara had taken a liking to Zenith. She would often sit on Zenith’s lap and look up at her face. If you ignored the silence, you might mistake it for a touching scene of a grandchild bonding with her grandmother.
Chapter 6 pg 331
Cliff, “Worry not, I’ll pray to Saint MIllis that your future child will get along well with mine.”
Chapter 7 pg 374
The acquaintance who’d appeared so suddenly had disappeared just as quickly. I had to wonder if our reunion was, in fact, a coincidence. It didn’t matter. I was happy to see an old friend and shake some nerves off (Geese).
Chapter 8 pg 411
If Norm told me that she wanted to marry and needed my help finding someone, then I’d gladly set her up on a blind date.
Volume 21
Chapter 7: What is Owed pg 293
(While the blessed child is narrating Zenith’s memories), Lara really likes me. You know she was talking from the moment she was born! “Lately, she climbs up on my knees and we sit in the sun with Leo and talk.
Chapter 8: The Traitor Gets Away pg 341
“I won’t go on at length about it, as promised, but I worry about her future,” Claire said.
“Aisha was incredible and clever…
“I wonder…” Claire said, sounding unconvinced. “I cannot shake the feeling that she’ll make some mistake she can’t come back from.”

I need emergency assistance with my Storage payment. I have my stuff stored in a friend of mine's garage. I lost my parents house in 2021 and the reason why because me taking over the house payment was unexpected I lost my mother and father in 2019 my mother was sick so we was prepared for her death but not my father he was diagnosed with cancer in 2018 and passed away March 2019 and then my mother followed July 2019 I was a caregiver for my mother for two years so I took a huge pay cut stay home but at that didn't matter to me I wouldn't change that for anything but when my father passed away I had to take over things that I wasn't prepared for and still was taking care of my mother I tried my best to keep up with the house but it fell through so I lost the house September 2021. Due to the setback of me being home with my mother it was hard for me to get back on track especially losing my parents so close together. So what I'm getting at is in September of 2021 when I lost the home I had a friend of mine let me store my personal belongings and lots of my parents' personal belongings in his shed because I could not afford to get a storage unit I still can't afford it. In April he came to me with some unexpected news but he wasn't prepared for either his daughter was going through a divorce and she needed to store her stuff in the shed so I had to get my stuff out with that being said I had to find a storage unit still expensive for me but I can't afford to lose my stuff and I had to leave a lot of stuff behind because I couldn't fit it in the storage unit. The reason why I'm behind on my storage unit in February there was money stolen out of my bank with some online transactions in the amount of $2,000 dollars so therefore identity theft I canceled my card and I'm waiting on my new card to arrive and I knew what day it was coming because I had it expedited so on the day that the card arrived I was out running some errands I get home to check the mail and there's no card so I quickly get on my phone call the bank and ask them where my card is and they said what do you mean it's been activated and there's been two $500 withdrawals and $50 varo charge. I was so Furious and confused on what in the hell is going. So the bank tells me all I need to do fill out some paperwork and the investigation that could take up to 90 days so I do all that about a week later I called check on the status of the situation and I now have to go down and make a police report so I did that and I still have not received my money, that's why my storage unit is behind I have a lien on my storage unit I kept in contact with them about this and they were okay with it and now they're saying that there's nothing they can do so at the end of June if I do it will be going up for auction sometime in July and I do not want to lose what I have left it would be greatly appreciated if someone can find it in their heart to help me there's a lot of memories in that storage unit. I'll show police report you can even call the police station I have the police officer's name who I made the report and if anyone's willing to help me the payments could directly go to the storage unit so you know it's going for a good cause. Thank you in advance have a blessed day!

I’m super worried all my home appliances will fry and my house will burn down from an electrical fire. Are my concerns founded? Or should I pop a Xanax and chill the catastrophizing out a little?? I could really use some perspective and good advice. If not already obvious, my electrical knowledge goes to the extent of plugging the metal part into the two holes in the wall.
Quick story time: The appliance guy came by and repaired our dryer again today. It still physically cycles, but doesn’t heat up so the clothes aren’t getting dried. He repaired it last week but during the first use after the initial repair, it stopped heating again. While he repaired the damaged dryer part again; when he checked the dryer outlet with a multimeter, he was getting readings between 325-375v. The dryer outlet is supposed to be at 240v. Seeing the readings were really high on the dryer outlet, the appliance guy checked an outlet in the living room away from the laundry room to see if the problem is pervasive in other areas of the house. The living room outlet readings were 175v in an outlet that is only supposed be 120v.
The repairman suggested I call the electric company to report the high voltages as it is likely a transformer issue or some other problem on their end. He advised not to use the dryer until the voltage problem gets resolved; otherwise he’ll be right back here fixing the dryer again. I followed his suggestion and called my local electric company to report the issue. The electric company customer service representative said I need to call an electrician to get the high voltage issue fixed. He said depending on what the electrician reports back, the electric company will send one of their employees to check the voltage on the outside of the house.
While on the phone, I asked the representative if it is safe to continue using the electricity in the house. The representative said if the outlets in the house are really running as high as reported by the repairman, then the breakers should have flipped and turned the electricity off on the overloaded outlets. Since it has not done so, he said there may be something not working on the breaker box and said we should treat this situation as an emergency. Does any of this ring true or make any sense???
I really have no idea on the cause of this sudden increase of voltage on the outlets. I haven’t purchased any electric-heavy appliances nor increased any activity outside of the ordinary. The dryer has been the most obvious symptom; however, my has been complaining about the gaming console system in the living room overheating and shutting down after using it. This problem has been ongoing for approximately two weeks - around the time the dryer’s heating component started having issues, though to be honest I don’t know if correlation equals causation in the case of the poor beleaguered PlayStation. I haven’t noticed any changes with the lighting or other electronic devices in the house.
I am desperately seeking a sanity check. The more I google, the more I have the electrical equivalent of terminal cancer. In abundance of caution, we plan to refrain from using the dryer, using only essential home appliances such as the refrigerator, and minimizing the usage of any wall outlets at least until I can get an electrician in to take a look. Responsible actions or behavior of an overly anxious shut-in?