TRUE ROMANCE - ROTTEN IN DENMARK BY MOVIES REMASTERED
Original Runtime: 1:58:31 MR Cut Runtime: 2:14:35 Extra Footage: 26:33 1920x804p h264 encoder AAC 5.1 Surround Sound Type: Fanmix
Releases only on MR Discord to initiate members how own the original Blue-ray. Invite link here: https://discord.gg/EBdQVXhDUh
SYNOPSIS: "True Romance" is a gritty and exhilarating crime film directed by Tony Scott and written by Quentin Tarantino. The story revolves around Clarence Worley, a lonely and comic book-loving movie nerd who falls in love with a beautiful call girl named Alabama. After a night of passion, they decide to elope, but their plans take an unexpected turn when Clarence accidentally steals a suitcase full of cocaine belonging to Alabama's pimp. As they navigate a treacherous underworld, pursued by various criminals and law enforcement, the young couple embarks on a wild and violent journey to sell the drugs and secure their future together. Filled with sharp dialogue, intense action, and unforgettable characters, "True Romance" is a thrilling tale of love, loyalty, and survival in the face of overwhelming danger.
INTENTIONS: I originally compiled the Quentin Tarantino screen play edit but after completing it I preferred the chronological order way better. It felt more in keeping with this storyline. So, I’ve made a hybrid of Tarantino’s, The Theatrical cut and the Directors version to tell the story I love from this amazing couple.
While I’ve tried to add as much footage as possible, I was able to remove a lot of the dotlace from the deleted scenes but they’re not perfect. They were in very poor quality but we’ve upscaled them and tried to highlight as much detail as possible using Topaz and other software. Thanks to Skenera for the help.

I'M CURRENTLY HAVING RENDERING ISSUES BUT AIM TO COMPLETE THIS BY VALENTINE'S DAY...

***True Romance - Rotten in Denmark (Changes)***

• Insert Fanedit warning

• Insert MR logo

• Add Movies Remastered title card

• Add Percy Sledge – “When a Man Loves a Woman” to match Tarantino Cut

• Add Radio Searching channel sound

• Rebuilt the intro to suit the new score

• Add City noise in all surround channels

• Add new “Rotten in Denmark” title

• Rearrange homeless people B-Roll to match lyrics of the song “Sleep out in the rain”

• Add new Police surround sounds

• Add crackling fire surround sounds

• Add Traffic sounds

• Add Movies Remastered and Skenera to opening titles

• Add New Police Siren sound. Pan from left to right to match scene

• Add Snowy Detroit scenes for new intro

• Colourgrade new footage

• Add new Titles for added soundtrack

• Add City sounds in all surround channels

• Add Deleted cinema scene featuring Jack Black

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Add surround reverb to audio

• Add new background sound to match end credit scene from “The Street Fighter” movie playing

• Add deleted comic book store extended scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene.

• Add Charles & Eddie “Wounded Bird” to match scene

• Add reverb to soundtrack to match scene

• Add surround audio layers to match scene

• Add fade to black to match Tarantino’s original title cards between scenes

• Add Janis Joplin “Cry Baby”. Many people have added other tracks to this scene but Alabama actually hums this tune in the bath.

• Add deleted bathtub scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Enhance center channel audio

• Split audio in stereo channel and add room reverb

• Add city sounds in surround channels

• Add fade to black

• Add city noises to surround channel to have siren sound that wakes Clarence.

• Continue city noises throughout scene in all surround channels

• Add Hanz Zimmer “You’re so Cool” track to match scene

• Add Extended deleted rooftop scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Enhance center audio channel

• Add audio in stereo channels

• Add reverb to stereo channels

• Add city noises to all surround channels

• Add police sirens sounds

• Add dog barking sounds

• Add fade to black

• Add “Motorcity” title card

• Add Skinny Boy “They can’t get enough” track

• Change soundtrack level higher when deleted scene started

• Add Drexal extended deleted scene with Samuel L Jackson.

• Rebuild scene using both Theatrical cut, Directors cut and deleted scene footage to get the cleanest scene available.

• Add city sounds to surround channels

• Add fade to black

• Add more violent club scene between Clarence and Drexal from Directors cut.

• Switch audio to directors cut

• Colourgrade directors cut to match Theatrical cut

• Add TV cut away shot from Directors cut as it has more detail than the theatrical version.

• Colourgrade scene to match Theatrical cut

• Add fade to black after meeting Clarence’s father

• Add “Hollywood” title card to match Tarantino’s cut

• Add “Clarence and Alabama Hit L.A.” title card

• Add Aero Smith “The Other Side” track to match scene

• Add Extended Hollywood Car journey deleted scene.

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Fix ratio issue with deleted scene

• Enhance center dialogue audio

• Add traffic sounds in surround channels

• Add TV ad sound to give scene more depth.

• Add American 90s MGM Rockin’ Rollercoaster ad

• Add extended Hollywood Hotel talk with Clarence scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Enhance dialogue center channel

• Add stereo audio channels with room reverb

• Add “Freejack” movie scene audio to match what Alabama is watching on TV in surround channels

• Add “You couldn’t catch the clap if you lived in a Whore house” line from Freejack scene (because its a great line)

• Add scenes from Directors cut feature Alabama and the Gangster. Many options to pick between takes here. Nice to have the options.

• Switch to Directors cut audio while using shots from Theatrical cut

• Colourgrade Directors cut footage

• Fix ratio issue with Director’s cut

• Add cut away clip of Clarence humming in the car in order to use as much directors cut footage as possible.

• Add some Directors cut shots of Clarence in the Burger place

• Add extended director cut shots of Alabama getting her ass kicked in the hotel room.

• Colourgrade Directors cut footage

• Switch back to theatrical cut audio

• Use Alabama laying on the floor shot from Directors cut

• Option to stick with Gangster close up or have another shot of Alabama on the floor so I went with Alabama as we can feel her pain more by cutting back.

• Switch to Directors cut audio

• Add slightly longer shot (9 frames) of Alabama setting fire to gangster’s face.

• Colourgrade Director’s cut and fix ratio issues

• Add extended shots a Alabama losing it in rage from Directors Cut.

• Cut back to theatrical cut when Clarence enters the room.

• Add “Gangsters talk in an Elevator” delete scene. (Original footage is pretty bad but I’ve enhanced it the best I could.

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Fix ratio issues with deleted scene

• Add 1930s elevator sounds in surround channels

• Add 1930s elevator floor bell sounds in surround channels

• Enhance Center dialogue channel

• Add stereo audio channels

• Add room reverb to stereo dialogue channels

• Add elevator door opening sound

• Add daytime city sounds to scene in surround

• Cut back to Theatrical cut audio.

• Add “The Big Day” title card

• Add fade to black

• Add “Cop Wire” deleted scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Fix ratio issue with deleted scene

• Add hotel background sounds in surround.

• Add police sirens and background noise in surround channels

• Enhance center channel dialogue

• Add Stereo dialogue channels with room reverb

• Cut back to theatrical cut of everyone in the car

• Add “Walking to Meeting” deleted scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Fix ratio issue

• Add Hanz Zimmer “You’re so cool” soundtrack to continue current scene.

• Enhance center dialogue channel

• Add outdoor city sounds in surround channels

• Add “Elliott Peptalk” deleted scene

• Colourgrade deleted scene

• Fix ratio issue with deleted scene

• Enhance center dialogue channel

• Add stereo dialogue with room reverb

• Add busy hotel reception sounds in surround channels to Elliott cut away scenes

• Layer hotel sounds over meeting with Clarence and Elliott

• Cut to Directors cut shot between Elliott and Lee

• Colourgrade Directors cut scenes

• Fix ratio issues with directors footage.

• Switch to Directors cut audio through hotel scene.

• I couldn’t fix the tiny soundtrack jump that’s actually in both released versions of the movie. I’ve no idea why they did a weird crossfade on the scene where the cop gets shot in the stomach.

• Cut between Theatrical and Directors cut shots to show more violent action closeups.

• Option to have Gangster come back from the dead to shoot the cop or have Alabama. So, I decided to have Alabama kill the cop for justice after killing the security guard.

• Fix colourgrade issues between Theatrical and Directors cuts. Each scenes colour feels completely different so hopefully now it’ll feel more balanced.

• Option to keep Clarence death or have him come back like in the original. I decide to have a happy ending for this couple. Mainly because Alabama seems really bitter and out of character for the alternative ending, and the fact I much prefer them having a Child called Elvis.

THE END

Like most things on the internet, I feel like work culture has devolved into a 2 party system. Theres this unsung understanding that your either an anarchist/socialist hippie who just wants a welfare check, or a slaving, mindless boot/grunt who is convinced they wont die before payout or being fired.
The reality is neither.
I dont know of a single person who doesnt want to do something with their life. Some sort of task, goal, mission, they want to do things. They are told they can make a difference, that they are the next generation in a long line of innovators, and that they can have a good life if they try hard.
But then you get out into the world and realize thats not true: unless you are propped up via old money, nepotism or some other extraordinary means (the LEAST likely being that you are actually gifted above the other 99%) you are not going to do a damn thing.
My buddy was hyped to get into a trade union. He was excited to work for a new company doing a big contract. This is in a town with a housing crisis. 2 weeks later he was laid off, and unemployment is behind, so hes struggling again.
Another buddy went to STEM. He was excited to make advancements and change the world. Instead hes banging his head against ChatGPT, trying to craft a love letter out of his resume. He takes calls for a corporation in the mean time, where his entire job can be summarized as "no we cant help you, no I dont have access to that, no my manager isnt available, thats the price, its only going up, and were an effective monopoly who owns all the competitors, so pay up or fuck off."
Then theres me. I tried both. I knew I wasnt strong enough for trades, but I went anyway cause it was what I could afford. No jobs without moving state or country at the time of graduation, which, of course, I couldn't afford without the non-existent job I just went into debt to get educated for. I went into food/call centers/retail, and none could give me enough to save for another degree. But thats what I had. So i sat and typed and talked and got weaker, and stood and flipped and wiped over, and over again, same thing every day until I lost it and quit for some other pointless, meaningless task for some corporation who doesnt give a damn about anything but the bottom line.
It is soul destroying to shovel 20 different vegetables that cant even grow in your country into a sandwich at Subway™ when people are starving. You eat a banana for lunch which has no business being in your hemisphere because you cant afford the very sandwiches you make for others, before throwing out enough food stuff to fill a homeless shelters pantry that you cant take yourself or even give away legally. And its not just food: if you examine most jobs under a microscope youll come to the painful realization that "oh shit, this doesnt make any sense, does it?"
It feels nonsensical and immoral. Its like society is procrastinating. Its forcing us to make life or death decisions at 18 and shoehorning us into repetitive lifestyles more fit for machines, that only benefit machines like the stock market. And when we say "I am not a robot" we are told we are the ones who are morally reprehensible.
If we need houses built, why are big strong people sitting at home waiting for contracts? If we need to solve problems, why are skinny, smart people fighting for a chance to lie to people? If we really give a damn why are we stalling? And in my opinion, if all someone can do is art, or small tasks, or even just home making and activism and volunteering, or hell, even nothing at all, I dont see why thats a problem. Culture is important just as much as science, infrastructure, agriculture, or other "real jobs". Just give them a UBI and KoFi account and let them live ffs.
Because the corporations dont want your Brave New World. They want a chicken coop full of fat, brainless meat they can profit from. LET OUR PEOPLE FLY.

I already loved BOTW despite making a long whishlist out of it, because what it focused on made it worth coming back for years. I have completed most of TOTK and have let thoughts settle. I think it improves many things over BOTW and adds incredible stuff. Still here I'll focus on what bugged me, because having waited for so long, and having so much to it also means frustrations here and there and a lot of potential for whatever comes next. Hopefully this is constructive.

World & Scope

I expected the sky to be a proper "sky world" but while I love the aesthetic and ambiance, it's mostly small repetitive sky segments. I'm not addressing sky temples here, only the general overworld for casual exploration and discovery. The big structures that gave Wind Waker vibes from afar fall into a few categories of quick challenges, without many unique finds on them. The rest are copy-pasted platforms with slight variations for a shrine, a map, a few resources, a construct or gleeok. I really hoped in the beginning that the Great Sky Island wouldn't be the only ambitious one, and it was by far.
I expected underground to be secondary, maybe with some underwater. We got the "mirror" depths and many caves, which are impressive but daunting and not really varied. To be clear, they're definitely part of my addiction to the game, so they definitely have value. Some amazing spots and intense encounters, exploration in the dark was surprising and awesome. But I'd take a smaller extra map for a few more big unique moments.
Red herrings in marketing can be double-edged. Especially after going through Skyward Sword recently, reminding of its shortcomings for the sky intended as a focus, only to see the most fully realized open world version do little more with most of its real estate. I do enjoy what's there but hype can be a b*tch.
Quick word on underwater, yes we were a lot to expect or wish for it, personally what they decided to focus on is just as interesting, in parts more, it doesn't have to be the obvious choice and it can't be everything. I did find it suspicious (though funny) that one NPC got my hopes up when mentioning a flooded well which was just about waiting for the rain to stop, or when Bolson had underwater exploration as a suggestion for new activities which is of course denied. It could be a big deal but they had great stuff instead so no biggie.

Main challenges

I expected traditional dungeons adapted to the open world, we got... an interesting version of that. The environments and ambiance are unique, the lead-up segments were great but puzzles were oddly trivial with terminals.
To me the Wind Temple is the best of the four big ones. Fairly simple but really fun parkour, epic and ominous ambiance (some of the best music), a mind-blowing moment that perfectly combines the build up, the trampoline mechanic to go above the eye of the storm, and the heavily marketed skydiving mechanic to go through a stunning introduction. The terminal puzzles remain on the weaker side when thinking about "big dungeons" but in this game I liked their integration best. Colgera is great and so is the music once again. The myth about flying boats is properly brought up and ends up happening before our eyes, the most compelling one IMO. Unfortunately that was also the temple teased the most by Nintendo and suggested to be done first.
By contrast the three others were less impressive * For the Fire Temple, we're told about this mysterious ancient city Gorondia, we go up Death Mountain, fight a cool godzilla miniboss, dive through one of the most epic world building reveals. Then it's all about mine carts, like many people I got confused about some "puzzle" parts and rushed with climbing and ascend. The boss was ok but a pretty underwhelming payoff. * For the Water Temple, I don't have anything against it and low gravity is fun. Interesting lead-up and architecture, but the terminals and boss felt underwhelming. * For the Lightning Temple nothing negative either, the boss introduction and fight were more remarkable, the setting was great, but I can't say I remember going through puzzle rooms.
The Spirit Temple is a highlight by how it integrates a cool quest that spans multiple locations, a multi-part puzzle, a unique item / ability / boss / reward and lore.
The Great Deku Tree had a nice integration with the Depths, really cool to realize how deep his roots are. But it's mostly some environmental lore, a reused Phantom Ganon fight and a short memory, then it's Korok Forest as usual. I could see a Forest Temple if other temples had been more consistently fleshed out.

Secondary challenges

As mentioned before, lots of sky islands have the same minimalist repetitive nature. There are a few big vertical ones that still feel limited: short skydiving challenges. Looking at the art and trailers I had come to expect maybe a couple villages, at least occasional unique NPCs, or more unique finds. It gives the impression of bloated structures for the sake of recognizable landmarks, without much to give in the end. There's that one with an obscurity puzzle, despite the same aesthetic as anywhere else it at least stands out. Maybe I'm underplaying the focus on the "journey more than the destination" this time around, while I was all about that in BOTW, maybe I figured out too quickly how to optimize travel and put too much expectation on what I'd find there. But they're really sparse, unlike the surface and depths which could hide something at any corner, so I'm not sure I was in the wrong mindset.
Zonai mazes are pretty fun but yet another type of major landmark with underwhelming payoff. I liked how they address the fact that most BOTW players already completed the surface with in-game explorers leaving a trail. Getting to the sky portion is nice but nothing unique. Once there it's fun to fly around but I didn't feel challenged to reach glowing points on the map. There's one instance where the map isn't enough with walls blocking on all sides, so you have to dive and go back up on the other side. But it doesn't seem like one of those open-ended challenges where you make it as tough as you want. Unless you want to stay blind and bump against every single wall of the maze, you're meant to use the map which makes it trivial. It felt like they had settled to make mazes as landmarks, and added the standard terminal fetch quests as an afterthought. Then the idea of diving back down into the depths is neat, but here again I had mixed feelings with the outcome. It happens three times which seems like a manageable amount for a conclusion specific to these places, so coming across yet another flux construct and BOTW DLC item isn't too exciting.
The fact that they repurpose DLC content for "ancient lore" discovery isn't a big deal and can even be great if well integrated. But a lot of these felt underwhelming, with random placement which emphasizes "repurposed DLC" more than proper "ancient lore", and the fact that many of us have been using these for years now. So instead of feeling like long-lost meaningful items, it feels like accessing parts of your previous save file bit by bit. I don't know what could be in their place, I'm just saying how it felt.

Wildlife

I noticed almost nothing new with animals which were such a novelty for immersion in BOTW. Except the harness and perks at stables, but horses are as stiff as ever and even less valuable now. I doesn't take away what was already in BOTW, but the sky, undergrounds, verticality and vehicles drastically diminish the presence of animals.
I didn't like how some NPCs tease the mysterious creature Zelda was seen with, only to be what dondons turned out to be, some version of what we saw her ride in the first trailer. Nothing special besides feeding them rocks. I can appreciate that the dondons quest is a play on rumors which is a quite nice trope in this game, but there's also a few unique mounts that also start as gossip and turn out to be real, so I did let myself hope it would be more than a cute stationary animal.
Also I understand why we didn't get loftwings but that goes with wanting a grander sky world.

Lore

The lore and presentation are more epic, but we don't really learn anything valuable that isn't reusing previous tropes. I won't bother speculating on the actual meaning of the "kingdom's foundation" or "ancient times" relative to the entire series, it's not the most important and the creators may not have bothered themselves.
This was Ganondorf's best time to shine, writers touch on his origin yet mostly stick to callbacks; vaguely bring up Gerudo males born every 100 years though we don't know more about what that means or how it works; have him express motive and cunningly pledge fealty, without more insight into his past as an individual; show him as a fierce leader and user of dark magic even without god-like powers, without expanding on how he got there, how much of it is actually innate, how it relates to the ancient curse... All cool stuff, I get that a story can remain basic to serve the game, but it could be more thoughtful to engage players in a different way. Some people still prefer WW Ganondorf for this reason, we had a slightly more intimate feeling when he opened up about his past, making his madness and downfall more impactful.
The Zonai are referenced everywhere to the point where I understand why some people feel like it retcons stuff. I think you can always add more layers so I don't mind. But I wish they'd tell us more explicitly what it's meant to be. While I enjoy environmental storytelling and letting players figure it out, it can also come across as "this is the ancient aesthetic, mysterious stuff happened, the Zonai did it". It raises the stakes while none of our BOTW speculations about Zonai ruins have been addressed, to my knowledge. I'm expecting DLC to use more of that trope but hopefully they tie in more unique lore than they did with the Sheikah in BOTW DLC, which was essentially more challenges without telling us anything major. And if they resort to an official artbook to say more that's fine, but I wish they went all the way in the game itself. NPCs, logs and stone tablets can go a long way.

Story delivery

Memories are more captivating than in BOTW but even if non-linearity is intended, it can be counter-productive. I carefully got to tears in order but stumbled upon Mineru's quest in the middle, without a clue that there was an intended way to clear the skies only after the fake Zelda confrontation. Nothing Mineru tells us was completely unfathomable but still, the tension should work better in order. * On one side there are memories. If they tell a linear story, they could play memories in order regardless of which tear you get. Though I'm fine figuring out by myself if they provide an obvious suggestion, they might as well prevent people from being confused just for the sake of calling it "open gameplay". * On the other side for things in the present it's a dilemma, I wish I was told the thunder storm island had late-story reveals, or that it kept locked until enough progression. But going through it blind, following to a temple, solving the puzzle without a clue of where I was going was one of the best moments of the game. The hostile environment didn't feel like a warning, because early on we're taught to find our way through obstacles and obscurity.
Zelda goes through crazy stuff, I liked seeing her experience unfold in the past but with suspense. I already defended the BOTW memories as a nice development of her character, this is taking her faith in Link further while being a story device that feels natural enough. Her transformation is a great twist, though I got very suspicious of that when casually dropping on the Light Dragon, before deciding I wasn't ready for spoilers. This only adds to my point about the linearity compromise. But in the end she's back to normal and it seems she wasn't conscious of the ages passing by. This lack of lasting consequences kinda defeats the purpose, but I should appreciate a simple happy ending that also works. It also convinces me that they're done with this BOTW/TOTK iteration beyond DLC.
When the construct on the sky Temple of Time proposes to share the backstory of the floating island, I postponed until I felt I could be spoiled major stuff. I liked revisiting the island with the bonfires challenge, but it also cemented my concern that the sky overall was under-utilized. As I completed the challenge looking forwards to some exciting lore, the construct simply told me through text that the island floats because... ancient people wanted it to float, so it's safe and the Hero could be there. Ok, thanks, but that delivery buried my sky-related expectations.
The repetition of the ancient sages cutscenes after each temple was ridiculous. None of it is bad, but if they're not going to add something each time, at least have a shorter version. Make a full sequence rewatchable like memories, but keep these moments short so it doesn't turn the initial impact into an expected joke. Secret stone? Demon King?
Finally I had a couple of odd moments when progressing the main quest. * All gathered at Lookout Landing after people saw Zelda at the castle, all the main quest stuff is brought up and my Link eventually decides to update people on the fifth sage, the Master Sword and what happened to Zelda. Nothing about a fake Zelda though, because we need the "twist" we're about to get of course. Purah observes he could have said so earlier about the sword, people are shocked for 5 seconds about Zelda despite the mind-shattering implication for anyone who cares about her, and we move on. This dialogue was extremely weird. * When about to go fight Ganondorf, smart Purah had the most uncharacteristic brain fart, observing he likely wasn't on the surface and nowhere in the depths we explored, wondering where he could be. Hmmm let's see, we met him under the castle, he fell there, where the gloom still comes out and he just tricked us, hmmmm... that's a tough one... So while I'm sure I could have ignored that and gone straight under the castle, for proper completion I "had" to talk to Josha, she essentially put me back on track to find Kohga, in our final encounter he "revealed" that Ganondorf was under Hyrule Castle. Shocker.
These moments yet again showed a contradiction in an open approach to something designed with a specific path in mind, and it felt a bit like the game said "weird choice, but anyway..."

Mechanics

I think every hand ability is more interesting than runes in BOTW, regular items are more useful than ever, crafting is impressive. I already liked shrines in BOTW but the new ones are even more interesting because of that.
However I'm not sold on the sages. When going to a temple I liked that one follows you for tailored segments. In battles though they're too messy, you need them close to activate but it goes against you and them fighting freely. Outside of battle sometimes they get in the way when pressing A, sometimes they just stand far away. I was more comfortable with the ability triggering through Link in BOTW. Given how randomly useful they are, it's also annoying to go to special items to turn on/off. Tulin is really apart with the airborne wind gust, to the point where I had it on for most of my exploration but it was annoying to see him fly around or attack things without me asking. It could have been special Rito feathers for the paraglider or something. I understand they focused on fighting along companions but IMO combat was unnecessary for the sage ghosts. Keep it for the temples with the real sages, it's more unique and enjoyable. Mineru's construct may be the exception.
I'm reserved about some Zonai devices despawning after a while. I get a point of view that wings and ballons shouldn't take you anywhere from the start, but at the same time it's also being able to fly the thing, and it becomes quickly irrelevant anyway as you can find ways around that. Either with rockets or fans (two fans at an angle with a control stick quickly became popular), gliding with more stamina, or inevitable glitches. Nintendo knew how it went with BOTW crafters, it's in good part what encouraged them in that direction. They also knew it was about providing tools for free exploration which they even promote. So I don't know what putting a timer on some base items does, besides unnecessary anxiety to players we don't know any better but enjoy traveling around. Not a huge deal, but I don't really get it.

User interaction

They somehow made the weapon swap menu more sluggish and horizontal menus are a mess when going through many items. For less frequent items I often ended up opening the full menu, obviously a grid cuts down on time to get to the item you need. But you can't do that with arrows, so occasionally I'd spend well over 15 seconds scrolling, sorting clumsily hoping that would help. I get that the horizontal layout may be to keep sight of the action... If they really need to minimize clutter vertically, they could for example spread items in one row per category (zonai devices / food collectibles / minerals / etc), the row in focus is fully visible in the middle like we have now, rows above and below are faded, and you can move up and down to change category. Armchair developer suggestion I know, but surely they can work on something better.
Nintendo love unnecessary prompts in repetitive interactions. In this game we still have Great Fairies armor upgrades happening one by one and telling you what's going on each time, Beedle's casual observations no one reads for the billionth time, stable folks apparently recognizing you but thinking you have the worst memory... It depends on the player I guess, but if there's one they should streamline it's shrine rewards. I think no one intends to watch the whole thing again besides the first and last ones. No one can do anything with the orb as you stand there, there's no relevant information about it. Just say congrats and load me out please.

Design, Art & Tech

The Zelda team are incredibly competent in everything that makes up a game but aren't immune to hardware limitations. BOTW was already an amazing technical feat, they one-upped it despite comments that TOTK "looks the same". It doesn't exactly, it's more ambitious and better optimized. It's still fair to point at frame drops, resolution drops, pop-in. As amazed as I was by the Wind Temple for example, the heavy stutters took me out of it a few times which is a shame. And this isn't lack of time, care or resources, comparing to any AAA is a clear indication that the Zelda devs are masters on this platform. While this is the best we'll see on this console everyone is justified in wanting hardware closer to a modern standard to support the devs' ideal vision.
I'm generally cautious about that argument because "more power" doesn't magically mean "more and better content". In fact restrictions and simplicity can play in favor of a game's qualities, for example not worrying too much about photo-realism and extremely detailed models due to a wonderful art direction. But it's tough to admit when the game is undermined by those restrictions. The under-utilized sky world may be concerned by this, officially they kept it sparse for level design concerns, but I can't help to feel like filling up the sky would also have the Switch struggle much more than it does. I may be biased but of all the islands, I remember the most persistent frame drops when messing around on the Great Sky Island, where there's so much more to see. I can also imagine dark undergrounds partly justified by less detail on display, and caves by much smaller environments.
If you read everything you get a bubbul gem, if not tell me what you thought anyway

Hi Everybody! I have a long list of games I'm selling below. Hit me with any offers on one game or multiple games! Thank you!
A Way Out (Origin Code)
Humble Bundle Stand with Ukraine Bundle
Back 4 Blood
Metro: Exodus
Max Payne 3
Sunset Overdrive
Quantum Break
Fable Anniversary
This War of Mine
PGA Tour 2K21
Slay the Spire
The Long Dark
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
Endless Space 2
Ring of Pain
Kerbal Space Program
Starbound
Popup Dungeon
Expeditions: Viking
Skullgirls 2nd Encore
Wandersong
Supraland
Crying Suns
Wizard of Legend
Amnesia: Rebirth
Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
Vagante
Monaco: What's Yours Is Mine
Wargroove
Warsaw
Drawful 2
SUPERHOT
Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
Broken Age
Pikuniku
Lust from Beyond: M Edition
Inmost
Pathway
Rustler
112 Operator
911 Operator
Radio Commander
Kingdom Two Crowns
West of Dead
Tooth and Tail
System Shock: Enhanced Edition
Driftland: The Magic Revival
Toejam & Earl: Back in the Groove
Book of Demons
Fury Unleashed
Going Under
Yoku's Island Express
Nex Machina
X-Morph: Defense
X-Morph: Defense - European Assault
X-Morph: Defense - Survival Of The Fittest
X-Morph: Defense - Last Bastion
Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021
Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
DV: Rings of Saturn
Slinger VR
Pixplode
Brothers - A Tale of Two Sons
EarthX
Neverout
Telefrag VR
Pawnbarian
NecroWorm
Hexologic
Post Void
Moon Hunters
The Amazing American Circus
Roarr! Jurassic Edition
Corridor Z
Draw Slasher
Shing!
Go Home Dinosaurs
Dagon: by H. P. Lovecraft - The Eldritch Box DLC
Soulblight
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(Please check the pinned comment for additional info, thanks!)
Humans were never at the top of the foodchain. There were things that hid in the dark and preyed on our false confidence. Predators that rarely let their victims live to tell the tale, because their strength lay in their unknowable nature. Pride, the first sin, would always be men's downfall. Our carelessness would ensure that these predators shall never run out of prey.
Almost fourty years ago, I fell victim to one of their kind. I am one of the few who made it out, and lived to tell my story.
But let me start this in the only apropriete way.
My name is Billie, and I was a passenger of the Midnight Train.
In the early eighties, on a cool day in April, I stood at the train station at midnight, a heavy backpack on my shoulders and the earphones of my walkman blasting Metallica at high volume. I was the only person at the station, which wasn't surprising, considering that it was late at night on a weekday. For a second, I stood still in front of the open door and looked at the golden interior. I had made it. Nobody could stop me now.
With a smile on my lips, I stepped over the threshold.
It was a relief to hear the doors close behind me immediately. I wasn't sure where this train was going, but my main priority was to get away from my hometown. As soon as I reached the next big city, I could get on a train towards me real destination.
The train I had boarded was beautiful though. Bathed in golden light, almost painfully bright against the black night outside, was luxurious furniture made of polished wood and gilded metal. A bordeaux red carpet covered the floor and it looked barely used, as if this train was still brand new. This was far from what I had imagined from a random train in the middle of the night.
I took my earphones off and slowly walked down the corridor in an attempt to find a seat for myself. The train was driving already and was rapidly accelerating, so much that the outside was a blur. Good, I thought, because that would get me to the next city quicker.
"Excuse me, Ma'am?"
I flinched and spun around, only to see a man in an old-fashioned uniform, with a face that was so terribly unremarkable it was impossible to describe. He smiled politely, or at least I thought he did because my brain refused to recognize any of his facial features. "Welcome aboard the Midnight Train, Ma'am", he greeted me. "Please, allow me to lead you to your compartment."
"Uhm... yeah, sure", I agreed, more confused than anything. Compartment? Sure, this place was obviously fancy, but this seemed like overkill. I'd only stay here for an hour or so, only until we reached the next bigger train station. I'd be fine with sitting on the floor, honestly.
Still, I followed the Conductor to a compartment, thanked him for leading me here and eventually sat down on the bed and breathed a sigh of relief when he disappeared without asking for my ticket. Maybe he pitied me. Did I look like a runaway? Well, of course I did, what else would a seventeen year old girl with a huge backpack do at a train station at night. I smiled tiredly. The Conductor seemed like a nice person.
I sat the backpack down, put my earphones back on and lay down on the bed. Soon I would be in a train to California and I'd never have to see my parents again.
The problem was, this train didn't stop. Hours later, when I replayed the album in my walkman for the third time, we hadn't reached a single station and the outside was ist an indistinguishable blur. The darkness was slowly getting brighter, the watch on my wrist told me that daybreak wasn't far away, and the train didn't seem to slow down any time soon.
Maybe that was when I realized something was wrong.
I jumped from the bed and grabbed my backpack again. This probably meant nothing, I thought, all I had to do was ask the friendly Conductor and that would clear everything up.
With shaking hands, I opened the compartment door and stepped outside. The Conductor was nowhere to be seen, so I just picked a direction and wandered off. This wagon solely consisted of compartments and I walked past them without paying much attention, when suddenly a bloodcurling scream made me jump.
I screamed and took a step back, while the screeching from behind one of the compartment doors continued. Two children's voices screamed bloody murder behind the door with the number eighteen as I stood with my back agaist the wall, breathing heavily and eyeing said door in horror. "What the hell?", I whispered to myself. "What the actual fucking hell?"
Shaking my head, I hurried quickly past the door, towards the next wagon. This was something I wouldn't mess with. Whatever was happening in there, I'd just inform the Conductor and he would take care of this. It sounded like someone was getting murdered in there, and I wasn't going to put myself in harms way.
Even more unsettled, I entered the next wagon and found myself in a more populated area. Just as luxurious as the rest of the train, but the mood was more casual. Several seats were placed like the would be in a normal train, a few vending machines were placed on the wall, and people were sitting around. What was weird though, was that all these people seemed to keep distance between each other. Although there should have been chatter, the wagon was weirdly quiet.
I took a few tentative steps into the wagon, but nobody paid any attention to me. My eyes wandered over the passengers I walked past. A woman with blonde curly hair was quietly crying; there were bloody bandages wrapped around her lower arm. A man with a long beard was coughing pathetically, the dark beard was covered in grey dust for some reason. A black haired, obviously pregnant woman was reading a children's book to herself.
I stood in the middle of the wagon, looking at the strange passengers and wondering what was going on here when my eyes fell on a man. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him and that was the thing that stood out to be, between all these weird people. He was bald, wore a fancy suit and simply sat next to a window, looking down at some paper in his hands. For a moment, I stared at him like an idiot.
The silence was broken when the people suddenly started to move. I looked around in confusion as they walked past me, some rather unsteady on their feet. What was going on?
The bald man was the last to stand up, our eyes met and he raised an eyebrow curiously. He walked straight towards me, his briefcase in one hand, the paper in the other.
"Hey!" A hand touched my shoulder.
I spun around and found myself face to face with a young man with dark blonde hair. "What the fuck?!", I snapped at him. "You scared the shit out of me!"
"Really? I'm the one who scares you? In this place?" He chuckled. "You're new, aren't you?"
"Uhm... yeah, I guess? Arrived a few hours ago."
He nodded. "Okay, thought so. Come on, we have to go, I'll explain everything when we're safe." With that, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along, back out of the wagon.
"Safe from what? Who the hell are you? What's going on?"
"Just give me a minute, will you?", he replied harshly. We passed compartment eighteen again and once more I heard the children scream behind closed doors, but the man paid no attention to that. We hurried down the hall, past my own compartment, and at the very end of the wagon, we entered the last compartment, where he threw the door shut behind us.
I did not get the chance to say anything before I was tackled to the ground by something large and black.
I screamed and tried to free myself from the heavy thing that held my body down. All I saw was pitch black and there was something wet against my face. The man yelled something and then the black thing was yanked off of me and I gasped for air, trying desperately to comprehend what had just happened.
When I sat up again, I saw what had attacked me. A giant black dog, a very fluffy one in fact, stood next to the man, looking up at him with tired eyes while he was scolding it. Okay then. Nothing bad, just a cute dog.
The man turned to me. "Sorry, she tends to get a bit... excited", he said with an apologetic smile.
"Yeah, I noticed." I got back up and crossed my arms in front of my chest. "So... why am I here?"
"First things first, yeah? I'm Derek and this cutie next to me is Kira."
"I'm Billie. Now get to the point!"
He nodded. "Short version, this train is fucked and you need to know some things or you'll be dead by tomorrow."
I felt my stomach drop. For a moment there was absolute silence and my mind was racing until I realized what was going on. "That's not funny!", I hissed. "Honestly, pull your stupid jokes on someone else. I'm gonna go to my compartment now and wait until we reach the next stop, where I will get off this train. Okay?" I turned around and went to open the door when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
"Fuck, don't go out there now! Just sit down and listen, okay? I'm not joking", he said urgently.
"You're annoying, you know that?" Still, I sat down on the bed and Kira wandered over to me immediately and rested her head in my lap. At least I got to pet a cute dog, I thought as I brushed over her dark fur.
Derek sat down next to me. "Okay... this will sound completely unbelievable, but please keep in mind that this train hasn't stopped in several hours and you agree that this is weird, right?"
I shrugged, but nodded. It was weird, he had a point there.
"Listen, the Midnight Train... it's cursed or something. There are inhuman things here and you have to be careful around them because they will kill you if you do something wrong. You have to follow certain rules to survive here."
Another moment of silence, then I shook my head. "Still not funny, asshole."
"Oh for fuck's sake..." He stood up, walked over to his cabinet and took something out. It took a second for me to understand what the black thing he showed me was. A dead raven. "A child whose mouth is sewn shut gave me this thing yesterday. This isn't a prank, Billie, I'm serious. This place is fucked."
I looked at the dead bird in his hands. He did have a point, nobody would go that far for a prank. Well, and all the people had started to leave that wagon at the same time, which was also very weird. The screaming kids in compartment eighteen, the fact that I couldn't for the life of me recall the Conductor's face, and that the train hadn't stopped once in the past seven hours...
This was bad.
"Let's say I believe all of this...", I said slowly. "How can we get off this train?"
He put the dead animal away again. "Depends... you've got a ticket?"
"Nope. Left in a bit of a hurry. I just hoped nobody would check." I shrugged.
"Fuck!", he cursed. Defeated, he dropped down on the bed again. "That means we're both stuck, girlie. No leaving without a ticket."
My blood ran cold. "You can't be serious."
"I wish I was joking. If you don't have a ticket, you don't get to leave."
I buried my face in my hands, mumbling no over and over again. This couldn't be real. I couldn't be stuck in a cursed train for the rest of my life. I was only seventeen. All I had wanted was to get away from my parents and now... no, there had to be a way out. All I had to do was survive until I found it. I could do that. I would survive and get out of here.
"Hey, are you alright?", Derek asked, sounding slightly worried. Kira made a small noise.
"Yes." I took a deep breath, wiped any tears from my eyes and looked straight at him. "Okay, tell me the rules. What are we hiding from right now?"
"The Fog. Every day at seven a.m. you have to be in your compartment for half an hour because the entire train fills with cold white fog. I saw a corpse once, of a person who didn't hide away... that shit's not harmless. Tears you apart from the inside." He shivered. "The guy was empty, Billie. I swear to god, all that was left of him was skin and bones."
Okay. Okay. That sounded absolutely horrifying, but easy enough to avoid. "Okay. Be in your compartment at seven. Got it. What else?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're awfully calm."
I was actually freaking out, but running up and down like a headless chicken wouldn't get me anywhere. The most important thing right now was information, and I'd take everything he had to offer in this regard. "I'll cry later. Go on, what else is running around here? Who gave you the bird?"
"I call him the Distributor. Creepy kid with pitch black eyes and a mouth that's sewn shut. That little fucker is just weird. He walkes up to you, hands you some shit and runs off again. Not dangerous, as far as I can tell."
"And what's the dead raven all about?"
"No idea." He shrugged.
Well, that was moderately concerning, but alright. Better than the murder fog. "Okay. The screaming kids?"
"Compartment eighteen. Completely off limits. Just don't open the door and you're fine."
He went on to tell me that the Conductor was a neutral presence in the train, neither friend nor enemy of the passengers. The food sources were either the vending machines or the dining wagon, though the latter was apparently a bit problematic. He didn't know all the details about this, only that people tended to flee when their waiter had no face and that he had once seen a man cut his palm open when a white-haired woman had brought him a plate.
"Sounds like something I want to stay away from", I commented.
"Sure, the vending machines are safer, but trust me, you can only live off chips and candy for so long."
"Are you challenging me?" I grinned. "I'll see how long I can last. By the way, I'm hungry."
He shook his head. "You're really calm", he stated and he was right. I was calm. Right now, this sounded bad, but managable. I would be able to stick to a few rules. I would survive. I would find a way out of this mess.
On the bright side, I was as far away from my parents as humanly possible.
"We can't leave yet", he continued. "Five more minutes before the Fog's gone." He pointed at the door and I saw hints of white fog creep inside the compartment.
"Okay. I'll just cuddle with your dog." With that, I got off the bed and lay down on the floor. Kira seemed happy, because she cuddled against me immediately. That dog was almost as big as I was, with an unreasonable amout of fur. I loved her already.
When the Fog was gone, we decided to head out and get some food from the vending machines. Derek was nice enough, I thought. I was glad he had approached me, not only because he had saved my life and given me neccessary information, but also because it figured it was good to have a friend in here. Two idiots without a ticket and a dog, trying to find their way out. That was the stuff they made movies about.
Derek told me how he had stumbled into the train after finding his girlfriend with another man. He had simply taken Kira and ran off, entering the Midnight Train on accident, just like I had. I didn't tell him my reason to be here though. Like I said, I could use a friend in here and I didn't want to scare him off. He didn't need to know anyways.
"What do you want?" I turned my head to look at Derek, who only shrugged. As I looked back at the vending machine display, I blinked in confusion. The food, which had been brand new a minute ago, was now greyish and covered in dust. "What the...?", I started and turned to Derek again, who had gone pale like a ghost. Kira was growling lowly.
Everything in the wagon was turning grey. The light dimmed, a thick layer of dust covered the floor and furniture, the air was so dry it scratched my throat. "Shit", Derek whispered. "The Cinder Queen. Listen, do not run! Her minions are predators, you don't want to set off their hunting instinct."
"The fuck is going on??"
He didn't answer, just reached out and grabbed my wrist in a bruising grip. His eyes were focused on the other side of the wagon and I followed his look. What was approaching was the most beautiful and horrific thing I had ever seen.
The Cinder Queen was breathtaking. A tall woman with long black hair and ashen skin. Her dress was fitting for a queen, wide and flowing and detailed with intricate patterns, all grey in grey. She was thin, all skin and bones, sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, and she moved with the grace of a cat as she walked down the hall.
And behind her followed a crowd of monsters of ash and soot. Grey, hulking bodies that only vaguely resembled a human, walking on all fours while almost staying upright due to their grotesquely long arms. They had no eyes in their misshapen heads, only a wide mouth that almost reached around the skull, baring long, thin teeth and a snake-like tongue.
The world around us was silent as the Cinder Queen and her followers approached; all I could hear was my heartbeat echoing in my ears. I didn't dare to move an inch. She came closer and for a moment I dared to hope she would walk right past us, but of course the entity didn't have mercy. She stopped in front of us and now that I saw her up close, I realized that what I had thought to be sunken eyes were actually hollow voids.
Her hand reached out and long, boney fingers touched my face. From this proximity I could trace the cobweb of cracks in her dry skin. She opened her mouth and a thin, split tongue slithered out and flickered over my face. I shivered, frozen in place from fear. This was it, I thought. I was going to die.
And then she smiled and let go off me, only to turn her attention to Derek. I didn't relax in the slightest as I had to watch her grab his face like she had done to me before. Again, her lips twisted into a cruel smile and with that she grabbed him tighter and pressed her lips against his.
I bit down on my lip to keep myself from making a noise.
It was only a moment before she let go off him, turned away and continued to walk down the hallway, her ashen monsters always right behind her.
As she left the wagon, I got to watch the ashes fade away and the world regain its colour. My heart was racing, I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, but there was no time for me calm down. Derek had let go off my wrist and had fallen to his knees, coughing violently.
"Hey! Hey, are you okay? What did that bitch do?", I asked urgently.
He looked up to me, a pained smile on his face. "Nothing fatal. I'm okay, don't worry." His voice was hoarse.
"Are you sure?" I was not convinced at all, mostly because he looked pale as a ghost and had started to cough again.
"Yup." He got back up and brushed some dust off his clothes. "Come on, you were hungry, weren't you?"
"Are you going to explain what just happened?"
"Back in the compartment, okay?"
So we purchased some food at the nearby vending machines and walked back to the compartment. The way wasn't interrupted by anything, thankfully. We passed the pregnant woman again and I thought how terrible it must be for her to be stuck in place like this with an unborn child, and we walked past the bald man too, who held some chocolate in his hand. He looked up for just a moment, his bright blue eyes focused on my coughing companion, before he turned his attention back to the chocolate bar.
Back in the compartment, we were instantly tackled by Kira, who was overjoyed to have us back. After a very enthusiastic greeting, the giant dog settled on the floor at our feet, though her big brown eyes rested on her owner the entire time. Derek and I sat on the bed again, our food between us, but I was the only one that was eating.
"The Cinder Queen...", he began to explain. "She's the one thing the rules won't save you from. Nobody really knows how to counter her, she just shows up sometimes and turns the world around her into this dusty mess." He shrugged. "She unpredictable. Just stay still and wait... and maybe pray a bit."
"I'm not religious."
He chuckled. "Now would be a good time to reconsider."
Derek continued to cough and I asked him several more times wether he was sure he was alright, but he promised me that it was nothing and eventually I let it go. I ended up going back to my compartment after a while, because after all that had happened I wanted to rest for a bit. Earphones back on, I laid on my admittedly very comfortable bed and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the events of the day.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. Although I had stayed calm when talking to my new friend, I was absolutely terrified to be in a place like this. A place that, by all accounts, should not even exist. I had lived my entire life not believing in the paranormal, only to end up in a place filled with inhuman creatures that would kill me as soon as I made a single mistake. And worst of all, with one of them it was entirely up to chance wether or not I would survive an encounter. A terrifying prospect.
I fell asleep eventually and was plagued with nightmares of ash and soot. In my dreams I hurried through monochrome corridors, the Cinder Queen's ashen monsters at my heels, and when I woke up my heart was racing and I was drenched in sweat.
"Still better than home", I muttered bitterly to myself as I changed my clothes. The cabinet was filled with clothes in my size, which was weird, but far from the weirdest thing in this place. They were a bit to girly for my taste, but they would suffice. I chose something that didn't look completely atrocious and made my way back to Derek's compartment a few doors down.
My fears from yesterday were confirmed when I walked through the door.
Derek was lying on his bad and for a moment I thought he was dead. His skin was ashen, his mouth stained with dust, his breath shallow and interrupted with coughs. Kira sat on the floor next to her owner and whined.
"For fuck's sake", I cursed. "I thought you were okay?"
"Billie! Oh thank god you're here." He sounded weak, as if speaking demanded all his strength. "Listen, there's another... entity I haven't mentioned. The Blind Beggar Woman. She... she can help me. Just make sure..." He coughed. "Make sure to ask for her price first. She makes deals, she can... save me."
"Okay. Okay, Blind Beggar Lady. Got it." I nodded quickly. "Where is she?"
"She'll be there if you look for her. She always is. Please, Billie, please hurry."
"I'll be right back!", I promised, turned around and hurried out of the compartment.
I ran down the hall, not entirely sure what I was looking for. All I knew was that I had to find that entity quickly, because my friend had looked like he was about to drop dead at any given moment. Interally I cursed the man for lying to me, for claiming he was fine when the exact opposite was the case. Now it was my job to save his life and under normal circumstances that would be okay, but now that I had to deal with one of the train's entities, I wasn't so sure.
I left the wagon with the compartments behind and entered one of the common ones, only to find the person I was looking for sitting right in front of me. A woman in her thirties maybe, with dark skin and long dark hair, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a small bowl in front of her. Her eyes were completely white and she wore wrinkled, ill-fitted clothes.
"Hi", I greeted her, my voice shaking more than I had expected. "I want to make a deal."
"Yes, I am aware", she replied calmly. "Why don't you sit down and we discuss this?"
I decided to humour her and knelt down on the floor, so that we were at eye-level now. The Blind Beggar Woman looked so nice and painfully human that I had a hard time believing I was dealing with an inhuman thing. I wanted to trust her and it was a conscious effort to keep my guard up. "A friend of mine is dying. He says you can save him."
"He is right, I am able to save him, as long as you are willing to pay the price, Sybille."
So this lady just knew my name. That was certainly among the more freaky things that had happened up until this point. "Billie", I corrected automatically. "Why am I supposed to pay? It's his life you're saving."
"You came to me. This deal is between you and I, so you will pay the price", she explained. "Are you interested?"
I didn't like this in the slightest. "Tell me the price!"
She closed her blind eyes and smiled. "Your friend is on the verge of death, Billie. What you're asking from me is no small favour. Are you willing to give up one of your arms for his life?"
"What?" My blood ran cold. "You want one of my limbs?"
"This is the price."
Confused, I looked down at my hands. An arm. An entire fucking arm. I was supposed to become an amputee for a man I'd only known for a day. My only friend in this cursed place. A stranger.
It was probably a small price to pay for a life.
"So?", the Beggar Woman asked. "Will you pay?"
There was a lump in my throat. I took a shaking breath and swallowed hard, unable to speak at first. "I can't", I finally admitted. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not the person you should be apologizing to." The Blind Woman stood up. "If you hurry, you might get the chance to say goodbye to him."
"Already? Fuck!" Now I, too, jumped to my feet and without a goodbye to her, I ran back to the compartment. I had no idea how to explain this to Derek, but maybe I wouldn't even have to.
The way back was short, but I was out of breath when I arrived. I threw the door open and stopped at the treshold, frozen in place.
He looked like he was suffering a seizure. His body was convulsing, he screamed in pain as his skin turned grey, his form was changing and growing in the strangest proportions. Kira was barking in distress. Derek's arms were growing, his skull deforming. He looked at me and choked out my name in between agonized screams and then his eyes disappeared. It was the most horrible thing I had ever seen.
Before I knew what was happening, an ash monster lay where Derek had been just a minute ago and the creature moved, clumsily but fast. It staggered around the room, bumped into the walls, hissing and baring his teeth, and I couldn't do anything but watch as it stumbled around in its confused state before turning towards me and running. I threw myself to the side, out of the way, and the creature ran straight past me, out of the door. It ran into the wall before hurrying down the hallway, out of sight.
I collapsed to the floor, trying to calm down my racing heart.
Kira walked over to me and put her head into my lap. To hear her whine was heartbreaking, but I couldn't do anything but pet her. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't save him", I told the dog. "Don't worry, you just stay with me, okay? I won't leave you. You and I, we're gonna make it out of here. That stupid Cinder Queen won't get us."
Kira just looked up at me with her big eyes.
We stayed like this for quite a while. Derek, or rather the thing that had once been Derek, didn't return and I took the time to mourn his loss. Eventually though, I knew that waiting wouldn't do any good. I wanted to get out and I had to work for it. Derek was gone and since I didn't think I could do this alone, I needed a new friend.
And so I wandered into a common wagon hours later, Kira walking next to me. And there he was again, sitting next to a window and studying some piece of paper he held in his hands. My newly acquired dog in tow, I simply walked up to him and smiled. "Hi", I greeted the bald man with the bright blue eyes. "So, are you human?"
This is where I end this for now. The next part will be about new friends and deadly nightmares. But until then, don't lay your life into the hands of a stranger.
They might not value it quite enough.
- To Be Continued -

Godfather I and II, Goodfellas and Casino. These films were released in 1972, 1974, 1990 and 1995, respectively. They all roughly have a lag of 20 years: the Godfather duology portrays the 1940s/1950s era of the American Mafia, Goodfellas and Casino roughly take place in the 1970s and into the 1980s.
It's not a stretch to say that these are four of the most highly regarded films about the American Mafia. To varying degrees, they each have an epic scope to them. Godfather I and II feels like you are watching criminal royalty, and takes place when the American Mafia is undoubtedly at its peak. Goodfellas is about high-earning connected guys, but it is not centered around the boss. Henry and Jimmy cannot officially be members of the Mafia due to their heritage, but the stakes are very high, for instance, the multimillion dollar Lufthansa heist. In Casino we see the rise (and fall) of the go-go Mafia-backed Vegas.
What comes next in the pantheon of great American Mafia films? In my opinion: nothing for a long time. I believe the next great film about the America mob is The Irishman in 2019--this is a 20+ year drought.
After Casino, the next noteworthy film about the American mafia is Donnie Brasco, released in 1997. Based on the true story of Donnie Brasco, alias of FBI undercover agent Joe Pistone who infiltrated the Bonanno crime family via Lefty, an aging, going nowhere, drowning in debt street soldier. To me, this film represents the late stage Mafia, even though historically it overlaps with Goodfellas.
Goodfellas took us down to the level of associates, but there was still a lot of money rolling around. In Donnie Brasco, there is no glory at all. In one scene, Lefty is pathetically trying to crack open a sawed off parking meter for quarters. Lefty represents the soldier that does all the dirty work, does everything right, looks after his capo Sonny Black while he is in prison, and has nothing to show for himself. No money, broken family life, and no chance at rising up the ranks. At one point he rants to Donnie how he's respected all over the world, only to be humiliated by a high-earning capo Sonny Red later. Lefty has committed 26 hits, but he's often the joke of his own crew. Not only is Lefty exploited by his own crew, I think he's exploited by Donnie. Donnie sees in Lefty a washed-up soldier who will never have his own crew, and has an estranged relationship with his drug addict son. Donnie has to play the eager apprentice, but he's also got to be a cunning undercover agent. In Lefty, he senses someone who is respected but desperate to fulfill some sort of mentorship/authority role, and thus can serve as a foothold. There is a sense of vulnerability when Lefty meekly asks Donnie if Donnie wants to "check in with him tomorrow."
Lefty's failures represent the oppressive hierarchy of the late stage Mafia. Loyalty is not rewarded--in fact, it cannot be rewarded, there's simply not enough money for that. However, disloyalty is still punished, as Bruno Kirby's character is executed for conducting a drug deal outside of the crew. Just doing what you're told is not good enough, and trying to get something for yourself is punishable by death. The only way to succeed is to bring in a significant revenue source and make your boss look good. While this has probably been true forever, and the Mafia has always been organized as a pyramid, to quote the film: "Here you got 3,000 wise guys all chasing the same nickel." The pie, for whatever reason--either due to competition from other crews, other criminal organizations, RICO--is not growing anymore. At this point, the American Mafia feels like a husk of its former self. There's still money to be made, and the American Mafia is still around, but things have changed. Fast forward to 2023, sports gambling, once a primary revenue stream of organized crime, is now legal in many parts of the country, and around the globe. You can gamble on your phone, no need for a bookie.
As a film, it feels like Donnie Brasco is late to the party. By 1997, the public sentiment has changed. The glamor and stability of the American Mafia as an institution is fading. I believe at this point, the public had very little appetite for the portrayal of the American Mafia as criminal royalty, and Scorsese did a tremendous job of presenting its brutality and psychotic violence in a layered fashion. The American Mafia lost its "star power" and glory, and the public was now well aware of Sammy the Bull. Omerta, the code of silence, at best seems quaint, at worst, a childish pact. The subsequent higher-profile crime dramas of the 2000s represent pivots away from the American Mafia: Training Day (2001) portrays Latino and African American LA street gangs, The Departed (2006) is about Southie Irish gangsters, Eastern Promises (2007) is about the Russian mob, and American Gangster (2007) is about Harlem kingpin Frank Lucas.

Credit for the original story goes to u/spacepaladin15.
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Memory transcript subject: Trish, Venlil civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 30th, 2177
Location: Lower sprawl of City 23, Venlil Prime
The blankets haphazardly twisted around Trish felt like steel chains. The Terran grandfather clock on the wall dutifully marked each second of her prison sentence. Her eyes hurt from exhaustion, and it was all she could do to keep herself from lashing her tail hard enough to fracture it in frustration.
Several long, pointless hours had come and gone as she sat, self-immobilized with blankets in an attempt to sleep. But sleep did not come. There was a sick feeling of apprehension balled up in her stomach, a cold weight in her soul which silently sentenced her to sleeplessness.
Her instinct, that feeling of a frigid vice around her waist, could usually be counted on as a guiding star that commanded her to act decisively. Right now, it was commanding her to stay awake and alert even as the hours dragged by. Out of respect for its “wishes”, she had abstained from taking any sleep-inducing medication, but her meager patience was quickly waning. Simply sitting there in silence was nothing short of torturous.
The thought of how exactly they’d feed the Arxur still hung over her head like a guillotine, the evening’s furious debate having brought them little closer to a solution. Acquiring any organ-cloning tech would be a nightmare, not to mention the steep cost of life incurred from stealing rare medical equipment. There wasn’t exactly an abundance of wildlife for it to hunt. Maybe some DIY-biomedical tampering could expand its diet, but accidentally condemning it to an agonizing death was far more likely.
Perhaps their fixer had some advice to share. There were only a couple ways she could’ve gotten her hands on a fertilized Arxur egg, and her constant insistence on keeping hidden in every way pointed towards one obvious possibility. How exactly an Arxur had survived the fall of Wriss and stayed clear of the Federation’s all-seeing eye for so long, Trish couldn’t even begin to guess. But if it was possible for her, it would be possible for them, and she might have useful advice for keeping the hatchling fed that she garnered from personal experience.
That said, she couldn’t be blunt in her questioning. If their encryption was broken, they were most likely dead either way, but better to be cautious anyway. Most likely, this abundance of caution was how someone actively fleeing the Federation had to operate in all aspects of life.
Something in Trish’s chest protested. To hell with caution. She wanted to see their reptilian sponsor face-to-face, even digitally. Look her in the eye. If she was right, at least; if this was truly her own offspring she was entrusting them with. It would be hell to set up, and a completely pointless risk for both of them, but some things couldn’t be justified with—
A sudden crack of thunder tore through her thoughts, a rough noise which echoed from the bar above. She further entombed herself in blankets for comfort, letting the warm weight…
Not thunder. A gunshot. Someone had fired a gun upstairs.
Trish was out of bed and shaking someone else awake before her thoughts could catch up and form a plan of action. With her mind still reeling, instinct had taken hold, dragging her by the pit of her stomach to act. It issued clear, firm commands which she followed unthinkingly while her own conscious mind couldn’t keep pace.
Act quickly. Get everyone awake, and get them to the fire escape at the end of the hallway. It didn’t much matter if their assailants found the entrance to the Den or not; flames would start pouring down the stairs any second. They wouldn’t have time to gather belongings. Except her pad; if they found her pad, there’d be no escaping them even if they got away. Grab it. The fire would cleanse the rest of their tracks well enough to not be worth spending extra time.
Tressa was already up and alert, pistol drawn and taking aim at the door while crouched behind a couch in the living room as cover. Besides him sat the backpack, with the egg and incubator still inside. James stumbled out of his bedroom, being dragged out by a jet-black Venlil two thirds his size with such force that Trish was slightly worried she might hurt something in his arm.
When he saw the bag, he tore himself from her grasp and ran to the living room. After slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he rushed back to the hallway with Tressa in tow. Sasha was slipping her flame jacket over loose sleeping clothing, still blinking sleep out of her eyes. She didn’t see Burai anywhere; apparently, he’d slept straight through the noise. Trish was halfway to his room when she remembered that he hadn’t gone to sleep at all. He was upstairs, cleaning the bar.

He was upstairs, where the gunshot had echoed from.
Trish’s mind screamed in protest, but her body kept moving down the hall toward the fire escape. They were out of time. They needed to run. She tore open the fire escape hatch with force, praying that their assailants didn’t have the neighboring alley locked down too. The ladder swung down, missing her snout by a hair. Her limbs moved with a frantic, manic power, dragging her to the surface and forcing her down the street. Somewhere in the back of her head, she felt a pang of thankfulness that she didn’t feel fire on her back as she ran.
—
They stopped running by the time Trish was out of breath. She’d never been too fit even for a Venlil, and her endurance was meaningless compared to their human companions. However, in the dense decaying maze of the sprawl, even a few city blocks was plenty to lose anyone chasing. They gathered in the relative privacy of a burned supermarket, breathing heavily through cloth masks to block out the ash that poured from the walls in unrestored buildings.
Nobody spoke a word. There was nothing to say.
In better times, Trish might’ve broken down into tears, but right now adrenaline forced her into a sharp focus. They were still being hunted. Their options were slim, and growing slimmer every second of inaction.
“Tressa, did you bring your pistol?”
The words came out as choked and barely audible beneath the suffocating cloth that protected her lungs, but it was enough to break the silence. The rest of them jolted out of their stupor, minds visibly refocusing to tackle the problem at hand.
“...Yeah, but it won’t be enough to fight them off. I heard multiple sets of boots up there. If these are exterminators, it’s probably a squad of five. I can’t take that many with just a handgun.”
“It doesn’t matter either way. Kill them, and they’ll just send more. We need to run.”
“And run where, exactly?” James coughed a few times and readjusted his mask before continuing. “There’s nowhere the Federation doesn’t have eyes. Nowhere on Venlil Prime, at least, and we’d have better luck standing our ground than trying to board a ship offworld.”
“...a ship?”
“Yeah, walking into a spaceport is just asking to be— Trish?”
“...there’s a ship… there’s a wrecked UN ship on the dark side of Venlil Prime. It’s not too far from here, but far enough that nobody would ever bother checking out there. I’ve been inside it a couple times. There’s still working lights.”
Tressa muttered to himself, considering their prospects. “Working lights… imagine I could get heat working too. It probably has enough water onboard to last until we can dig a well. I… I could maybe even clone meat if they had Zurulian medical tech. You think we’d be safe there?”
“I don’t think there’s anywhere else to go.”
“And you never thought to tell us about this before now?”
“It never came up.”
James paced nervously, kicking up plumes of dust. It hung in the air for a brief moment, swirling dramatically in the cold light of a fluorescent lamp, before resettling as he leaned against the wall. “So you want to drag us to the dark side of Venlil Prime… Jesus, Trish. I thought there was a reason nobody bothered settling out there. Or at least a reason they didn’t scavenge those wrecks. Hell, even people like us avoid it.”
“There are settlements on the edge, and scavengers comb the darkness up to about a paw’s travel out. But no light means no farming, scarce power, and unyielding cold. Unless you just happened to find an abandoned ship with backup power still burning, it’s a death sentence. The Federation won’t look for us there.”
“...and you ’just happened’ to find one, huh?”
“A friend of mine— no, I’ll tell you about it later. We need to get moving now.”
Sasha sat up, brushing a layer of grime off her jacket. “We need to go back for Beast. No way we can make the journey out without her. Unless you think you can hotwire something, Tressa..?”
“Not a chance. Then again, our chances of retaking Beast seem pretty slim too. Do you have a plan for doing this, or is your ‘plan’ to throw me at them and hope I have more bullets than they have flamer fuel?”
“No. We’ll all go together, and try not to pick a fight we can’t win. Slip in, grab Beast, get out.”
“That’s not a plan, and you know it. That’s wishful thinking. If your best plan is ‘walk in and hope they don’t see us’, then we’re walking to our deaths.”
“If you have a better idea, let’s hear it. Until then, walk faster. The longer we’re gone, the more likely they’ll burn our escape to slag before we return.”
Tressa grumbled, but failed to make any coherent objection as he rose to his feet. He checked his pistol over, making sure ash hadn’t wormed its way into anything vital before slipping it back under his coat as the group stepped out into the street.
It was a common work claw, so the more ruined areas of the sprawl were near-empty. The only sign that people lived here in any capacity were the streetlights and a distant hum of life from more central streets and walkways. Not that their little entourage would draw much attention anyway; out here, ragtag herds of misfits were about as common as the burned-out buildings that permeated the land.
Their little ragtag herd of misfits wouldn’t hardly be missed if they went up in flames. Not by anyone important, that is; a few regulars at the Tipped Quill might be disappointed and some exterminator officer’s spreadsheet would need updating. The world would continue on without them. The world was going to continue on without them. Tressa was right; they were marching to their deaths.
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His vision was a void. Endless black was the extent at which he could see. No light was present even when he opened his eyes, but that was how they preferred it.
He opened his eyes and again there was no light outside. On the inside, there was a hum and chopping sound as many blades cut through the air to string them along on their journey.
“Closing in on drop zone, Almahar is now in sight”, the pilot relayed to them. His heart pumped faster and faster as the seconds drew by. No matter how many breaths he took it would not stop the impending fear of death.
“It's been quite some time since a new Incarnate has been spotted, hasn’t it?” A member of his squad asked the pilot. “Correct, Dark Force hasn’t been mobilized outside of Hirimazeth in many years”, the pilot answered. This news made his hands shake and his heart race faster.
“Lights on”, the pilot said, and all at once weapon mounted torches were aimed down at the sand. Ahead of them, a large spotlight beamed down drawing a path to their landing zone. What was he thinking getting cold feet now? There was no backing out of the mission. He was trained well and knew what they were asking of him. His heart eased and he regained control of his jittery hands.
The six of them hopped onto the sand on the outskirts of the city as they were just about to land. Similarly, another helicopter landed next to theirs and unloaded just as many men. “A backup team is on their way, but you're expected to capture the Incarnate without them”, a final order was commanded and the two SHOCK helicopters lifted off without them. Now there really was no chance for him to chicken out, but that steeled his heart now more than anything. They were trained and ready, he could do this. Flashlights lit up the walls as they rounded corners and shifted through alleys, guided by an overhead white beam.
They arrived at the Incarnate's suspected location and circled it. His team took the front of the warehouse while the other took the back and roof. Everything was still and quiet. An unnerving aura spread throughout them as no one had ever heard of a quiet Incarnate before. The two team leaders consulted each other on if they were at the right building, but they agreed they were. With hesitance, they followed the plan anyhow. Gas was dropped into the warehouse from any opening they could find and within minutes it filled the whole thing with billowing smoke. But still...nothing.
For minutes the team looked at each other with a sense of dread and pulled out their sealed masks. Now with renewed shaking hands he too put on his mask. They were going to breach.
Most of his team formed around one side of the wooden door while he was on the other. His task was to open it for the others to smoothly enter, but something was off. His hand shook on the handle as if it felt a presence on the other side.
Soon they were cleared for action and his heart rate once again began to build. “Three, two, one, go!” His heart rate was spiking but he built up his confidence. Through shaking fingers, he twisted the knob to open the door, but there was no need. The door suddenly became lighter and flung off its hinges with part of the beige mud brick wall soon following.
He was knocked to the corner of the building as his squad mates were launched through the air. Soon after, white nauseous gas poured out the side of the building alongside the scales and feathers of an Incarnate. He scrambled to find his weapon somewhere along the ground as the dazed and broken members of his team were cut down.
Two handheld crescent-shaped blades cut through the heavy sweat-soaked gear of his ally's before turning to him. His heart stopped as he locked eyes with the sneer of the beast. An electric cord then snapped into the wall beside its head causing its feathers to raise and its gaze to be focused above. The tip of his finger then hit the grip of his weapon and he launched his cable as well. Though it hit, the hooks didn’t properly latch into its skin. Even with a mere glance however, it was enough electricity to sting and drive it off. Through the winding narrow streets, the monster fled, and through those streets they had to follow.
He clambered to his feet and retracted his cable from the dirt. It wound back inside with an intense ferocity not even the Incarnate could match. “You’re the new team leader, call your copter I’m calling ours”, the other team leader told him as he approached. A bit startled he looked over to his team members' bodies, his eyes stopping on the previous leader. “What about their bodies, no one has even checked if any of them are still alive”, he hurriedly asked. “The bodies can be picked up later, even if some are alive, they won’t be for long”. He was then handed his team's radio and that was as much quarrel as he was allowed to give.
As the two helicopters landed, two members of the other squad joined him. They took off and found the Incarnate making its way toward the edge of the city in a straight line.
They set their lights on it and then made a swift gliding motion down closer to the ground and in front of its path as the other helicopter did the same on the other side. Both the soldiers flanking him fired their cords into the creature's upper body. His cable bounced and landed somewhere closer to its abdomen. The other side fired their cables as well however, weren't as lucky, with all of them bouncing off the harder scales and feathers on its back. Nonetheless, the three of them delivered jolts of lightning into its flesh causing it to spasm for the moment.
For that moment he really thought they had it, they were going to take down one of the few remaining Incarnates that plagued Durma. Then the two cables which sat beside him were yanked and into the darkness below they fell. Instinctively he unlatched his as its arm went for it, just missing the incredibly speedy cable as it wound itself back into his weapon. With another deathly stare into his eyes, it leaped for a back alley and bolted toward another part of the city. They followed it from the sky like nothing happened until it smashed through a cathedral wall and out of sight.
They naturally set down and made their way inside. Both helicopters then loomed above with searchlights circling the outside.
They crept into the dark open space that acted like a familiar void. On creaking steps, they spread out past chairs and tables a century old.
The five of them waited, scanning around with their torches. His torch shook more than the others but not noticeably so. There then came a creak and a bang which sputtered light around like a swarm of angry bees.
He slowly traced the direction of the sound until his weapon locked onto a door. Soon it seemed they were all in agreeance on the direction of the sound as all lights focused on his.
He edged himself towards the door and pulled the pin from his unused gas grenade. It rolled under the wood and filled the room beyond with smoke.
As white clouds seeped through the cracks, an unsettling feeling swept over him again. The gas didn’t work last time they tried it and he suspected it wouldn’t this time either, even if it was in that room which he now doubted.
He scanned once more with his light all around the room but there wasn’t any space they hadn't looked at before. There weren't any more doors or walls it could hide behind and then it hit him. Slowly he angled the light up and up until he found out the cathedral had rafters. He paused for a moment and then it came.
Over a ton of dense muscle and steel crushed one of the five and cackled a raspy voice all the while. The rasp then faded as it noticed its predicament. With one leg caught in the floorboards they spread out evenly and plunged their cords from every angle. The room then lit up with blue light as smoke rose from the points of contact. A deafening roar was then emitted as it slumped closer and closer to the floor, the sound of a beast defeated. The electricity stopped and they all waited. The other team leader brought out his radio and reported its state to his pilot.
While waiting for orders he heard another creak, then a low-toned groan and lastly the snap of wood. The floor suddenly gave way and he cut his cord from his weapon. He landed on the other side of a stone wall while his sparking cable snaked over it above.
His tailbone hurt immensely and his head felt dizzy. He removed the mask and breathed in what he thought would be a supply of air, but was now smoke from the flames on the other side of the wall. A burning piece of dried floorboard then fell from above almost crushing him.
He made his way down his corridor while pulling out his radio to alert the pilots. When he was about to speak he heard the order. “Permission to use emergency payload authorized”. His eyes went wide and he double-timed it down the corridor.
Bricks rained down from above with smoldering wood as he reached the stairs to a cellar door. He pushed open one side, then the other, and collapsed just before getting fully outside.
He lay there for a time absorbing the fresh air that smelled like gunpowder. After his moment of delusion, he found the searchlights in the sky again and heard something similar to “both four missile payloads expended” come from his radio.
His heart thought it was over as it was merely focused on the absorption of fresh oxygen but somehow, he knew it wasn’t.
He followed the white beams with his eyes which stopped somewhere inside what remained of the cathedral. Some kind of brass dinging pierced his ears and he flinched. By the time he opened them, he only caught a glimpse of a fireball careening down towards Almahar followed by a large bell. The remaining beam then lost less and less light as it went higher into the sky.
What emerged from the building was now most likely less than a ton in weight. It billowed out smoke from its nostrils and flared what remained of its feathers. Scales withered and fell off its body as it staggered toward the desert with one less crescent-shaped blade. The latch from a cord was still hooked into its torso with a gash wound from what looked like a knife mirroring it on the other side.
Although he expected his heart to sink and his limbs to shake when it scanned over him again, they did not. Instead of a cynical glance, he was treated to the maw of fulfillment.
His target trotted to the meager fence which kept out the open desert then stopped. The sound of far-off searing wind was picked up by the both of them and they turned to look at the heavens.
Four more explosions landed just beyond the fence and blew back the Incarnate.
What landed after didn’t bring the sound of chopping blades or determined men, but a simple thump and a wall of kicked-up sand.
Standing taller than the other was a metal feather-clad creature bearing the words SHOCK across its body. Two jet flames on either side of its wings began to simmer out and in a dazzling display of mechanical brilliance, sharp feathers rose out to tip them instead.
Half bird half machine feet sprung from the sand they planted themselves in and carried the creature closer to its target.
In a gasp that didn’t come from him, a raspy dead voice questioned back a name he had never heard. It opened up foreign dialogue to the abomination and yet didn’t meet a response. Severe loss and sadness carried through the words he couldn’t understand.
He had no understanding of the dialect and yet he somehow understood fully. He understood the grief and despair, the years seen and loved ones lost, the honors won and victories previously achieved, and yet the mechanical abominations beautiful eyes didn’t change. Its stride grew longer and its feathers extended until it was on top of the defeated hero centuries old.
The fight was not fair in the slightest. Large slashes formed quicker than he could see strikes swung and it was done.
The Incarnate collapsed into a pool of his own blood as he did not once attempt to strike his opponent.
Chopper blades could soon be heard far off and they landed, bringing fresh men in to collect their prize.
He clambered out of the ruins and into the spotlights where weapons were immediately trained on him then back onto the Incarnate.
Much after that was a blur.
He boarded a helicopter which strung them along, beside them the mimicry of a real jet.
The sun began to crest dunes far away and he was asked a question. He looked over to his superior officer and answered “If I get to work with it” then looked over at the mechanical abomination, “I'm in”.

PELINAL: You are about to enter the court-room of Judge Dagoth Voryn! The people are dead. The cases are argued in an aetherial tesseract outside of linear time. The rulings are final! This is Judge Dagoth!
...
DAGOTH: Please state your name for the record.
NOCTURNAL: I am UR DROTH, the part of the part that at first was all, part of the darkness that gave birth to light, that supercilious light which now disputes with Mother Night her ancient rank and space, and yet cannot succeed.
DAGOTH: Your legal name, please; not your Tumblr bio.
NOCTURNAL: I AM NOCTURNAL, MY TOUCH IS MINK.
DAGOTH: Of course. And what is your grievance with the defendant?
NOCTURNAL: This songbird sought shade beneath my bough. The terms were loathsomely clear: “My Shadow’s protection against all hues and snares. But in turn you shall attend to my Evergloam forever, Nightingale, singing for your supper.”
That he should rook me so, lending his music to the Doom Drum, draws my umbrage.
DAGOTH: Duly noted. Next plaintiff: state your name for the record, please.
HIRCINE: I am the flame that burns in every heart of man, and in the core of every star. I am Life, and the giver of Life, yet therefore is the knowledge of me the knowledge of death.
DAGOTH: Just asking for a name, please.
HIRCINE: I AM HIRCINE - HALF THE CONSCIENCE OF MEN!
DAGOTH: And your grievance with the defendant, Mr. Hircine?
HIRCINE: I swaddled that whelp in my livery! He is my footman, no matter the number of feet that he wears. I expect him at my flank, bearing my torc and implements when I take the heath. So take my heed, runt - if even you should elude me in this parlay, your soven home is no guard - my teeth shall not cease to flash.
Not until I wrench them on your neck.
DAGOTH: Noted. Next, plaintiff: state your name for the record. And I must stress, just your name.
HERMAEUS MORA: I'm just an old cowboy with twigs in my hair I'm 2/3rds Alligator and 3/4rtrs bear And 1/2th a liar but let it be known I've nevertold 1 lie that was not my own.
DAGOTH: [grievously frustrated sigh] Why did I give Nerevar the first blow?...You have standing to seek redress with the defendant?
HERMAEUS MORA: Those grains you fed them, contained hormones, The fruit was full of sugar.You should have known Your child could get brain tumors From that mobile telephone.
DAGOTH: Great. Just great. Alright, last plaintiff - your name, for the record.
MOLAG BAL: I’m Molag Bal! Who the fuck are you?
DAGOTH: I am Dagoth Voryn, Sharmat of the Sixth House, Love and Consolation of the Velothi Race.
MOLAG BAL: Never heard of you, Diego. Anyway, I let this dong-sheath crash at my pad in Bravil for like 6 months. Never paid me rent. Ate all of my goddamn poptarts. And his goddamn goat broke my butler table!
DAGOTH: You have a house in Bravil?
MOLAG BAL: It's an apartment. A studio.
DAGOTH: Alright. Well, anyway, would the defendant please state their name for the record.
DRAGONBORN: Bendu Olo. It means “hope” in Ancient Colovian.
DAGOTH: Your real name, please.
DRAGONBORN: I’d rather not shout, not just yet.
DAGOTH: I’m sure. And how do you answer the torts lain before you, Mr. Olo?
DRAGONBORN: Dead to rights. I owe them a soul.
NOCTURNAL: Hmm!
HIRCINE: Hrrm!
HERMAEUS MORA: [Abyssal Mollusc-Like Exclamation].
MOLAG BAL: I mean, I’m really just looking to get the butler-table referbed.
DAGOTH: Very well. However, we face a not inconsiderable problem in that extradition - spiritual or otherwise - doesn’t really allow for even splits.
NOCTURNAL: We are prepared to accept an uneven judgement, so long as it means the upstart is punished.
DRAGONBORN: But of course. And surely as the eldest, the Ur Droth, remember, you are the greatest of your siblings and most deserving of the contested prize.
HIRCINE: Fie! My sister is the most senile and inert of powers, content to sulk in corners and cellars. She is most deserving of cobwebs and mold, that is her kingdom.
NOCTURNAL: What a savage “hunt” you are, Hircine. I simply fear that you are too gorged on your venations already, field-mice and chickadees, and that you should have no palette for this little wyrm.
HIRCINE: Languorous Harlot!
NOCTURNAL: Dog Botherer!
MOLAG BAL: Meeeeooww…
HERMAEUS MORA:Sometimes in our lives, there is pain, there are headaches.But what a difference homemade onion soup makes.Boil a chicken to make a bouillonWith salt and tarragonAdd several chopped onionsSimmer over a low flame.Add carrots and celery,And (why not?) a cup of Champagne,And more onions.If you're depressed with phlegm in your chest,Lonesome in winter in the Midwest,Toss in sliced chicken breast,Add croutons or wonton,Call up Leon, Diane, Don Juan,Yvonne Dionne, William Shawn, Louis Khan, Pope John,That whole group,And serve them soup.
DAGOTH: Indeed, civility is essential to the proceedings. I’ll thank everyone for abiding by the decorum that this venerable tesseract demands.
DRAGONBORN: Truly…but there can be no civility without honesty. And honestly, one does have to admit, Hircine is the more…shall we say, volatile or reactive power? What is the greater boon? To be made the raptor? Or to be made to seek refuge from his rapture?
DAGOTH: Your point, Mr. Olo?
DRAGONBORN: Only that Hircine's gift constitutes the greater loss and therefore deserves greater remuneration. Allow me to demonstrate: Lord Bal, what grieves you more? The slinking, shadowy theft of your poptarts; Or the rambunctious goat that headbutted your butler-table?
MOLAG BAL: You said the leaf just fell off!
NOCTURNAL: This is asinine! I am the shadow! I am everywhere, even in idiom do I lurk - Hircine dwells in only speechless beasts and idiots!
HIRCINE: Asinine! ASININE?! Every “ass” is your demesne! None would tolerate your touch otherwise!
NOCTURNAL: Nimrod!
HIRCINE: That’s not actually an insult!
MOLAG BAL: Divayth Fyr gave me that table!
[Dagoth Ur slams his gavel several times]
DAGOTH: Order! Order! Everyone shut up!
[Everyone hushes]
DAGOTH: Goddammit, I thought Azura was annoying! Now if everyone is done with the childish remarks-
HIRCINE: She started it!
[Dagoth Ur slams the gavel another around]
DAGOTH: Don't shit on my head and tell me it's rain! You're all fucking culpable in this mess but somehow it's my eternal torment to sort it out, so I'd appreciate a just a cunt-hair of mature discourse out of you ageless, primordial entities. Unless you'd like to spend time in the hallway with Officer Whitestrake.
[Pelinal steps into view. He cracks his knuckles.]
PELINAL: Howdy Pardners.
[Everyone remains silent]
DAGOTH: Didn't think so.
DRAGONBORN: Your honor, if I may, I believe that I have a solution to the current tetralemma.
DAGOTH: Is that so?
DRAGONBORN: Quite. I happen to have contrived an ingenious method by which every member of the plaintiff suite may be provided with my soul, as befits their illustrious station.
[Dagoth slams his gavel again]
DAGOTH: Excellent. Done. Do it. I’m so fucking done with this case.
DRAGONBORN: As you will, your honor. Well, first come, first serve. So, Lady Knock-up, for the gracious gift of your shadowy cant (for nightingale song is most lovely!) here ya go,

MIR MUL NIR

[A luminous dragon-soul erupts from the Dragonborn. Its light is so great that every stray hint of Nocturnal is washed out of the room.]
NOCTURNAL: BLAAAH!
And for Lord Hurts-Just-Fine, who dearly needs a master to bait his game, may I safely present the most dangerous quarry,

NA HAG LIIV

[Another dragon-soul emerges from the Dragonborn. Hircine flees, but its flight swiftly overtakes him.]
HIRCINE: GLAAAH!
DRAGONBORN: Careful, he bites.
But who could forget Mr. Herman Moore? I know I almost always do, my memories of you are just a dumped abyss. Anyway, figure out this mystery,

VIIN TUR UTH

[Yet another Dragon soul erupts from the Dragonborn. It holds Hermaeus Mora’s paper in the toilet.]
HERMAEUS MORA:I should be writing my memoir,In March it's due.Instead, I'm in Miami,[Gurgling from being severely swirlied]
DRAGONBORN: Hint: It rhymes with Tragon.
Well now as I live and breath! Lord Moldy Balls!
MOLAG BAL: Hey now, I just want the table referbed. I don't even want your soul, man. I've already got closets full of 'em! Vivec's making me haul 'em to Goodwill! I'll even settle for the poptarts back!
DRAGONBORN: Don’t worry, lots of deities experience shrinkage in coldharbours like such. Not to worry though, I’ve got just the thing to warm ya up:

VUL JOT NAAK

[One last ropey dragon-soul shoots out of the Dragonborn. It violates Molag Bal thoroughly]
MOLAG BAL: The poptarts!
[Dagoth bangs his gavel]
DAGOTH: Case…uh, Case closed.

This post is about the Mysteries of Osiris at Abydos, an annual event on the ancient Egyptian religious calendar which commemorated the death and burial of Osiris and occurred in the fourth month of the season of the inundation. I will be mainly focussing on the version of the festival that was celebrated at Abydos in the Middle Kingdom but at the end I will mention how it later became combined with the Sokar festival celebrated at Memphis to result in its most developed form.
The Ikhernofret Stela is a Middle Kingdom stela which dates to the reign of King Senusret III and which records the actions of a high official named Ikhernofret who carried out the instructions of the king to renew the temple of Osiris at Abydos and to act as the chief officiant in the Mysteries of Osiris which were enacted at that temple. The stela begins with a copy of the king's decree giving Ikhernofret his orders and praising his good qualities that made him suitable for the job. He tells Ikhernofret to travel south to Abydos which is in the Thinite nome as he would presumably have started from the capital which was at Itjtawy in the north of Egypt at this time.
Ikhernofret says on that stela that he acted as Osiris's "loving son" which implies that he played the role of Horus in the mythic drama who, as the loving son of Osiris, carried out the funerary rituals for his father according to Egyptian myth. Therefore the actions which are attributed to Ikhernofret in the account of the Mysteries of Osiris on this stela correspond to the actions of Horus in the myth of the death and burial of Osiris which the festival was intended to commemorate.
The section about how Ikhernofret renewed the temple is very much as one might expect and involves each of the main items of temple furniture receiving some kind of improvement. Ikhernofret says that he repaired the sacred barque on the god and gave it a palanquin as well as sculpting new statues for the subsidiary deities in the temple and housing them in new shrines. He also embellishes the main cult statue of the great god himself with various precious metals and stones and instructs the priests on the correct way of doing the rituals.
The account of the Mysteries of Osiris on the Ikhernofret Stela begins with a procession of the statue of the god Wepwawet. Ikhernofret describes this ceremony as follows: "I conducted the procession of Wepwawet, when he proceeded to champion his father. I repelled those who rebel against the Neshmet-barque and I overthrew the enemies of Osiris." Wepwawet was one of the subsidiary deities in the temple of Osiris at Abydos whose statues were enshrined in that temple. In fact there were two separate forms of Wepwawet enshrined at Abydos, namely the Wepwawet of Upper of Egypt and the Wepwawet of Lower Egypt. This fact is mentioned on a stela of king Thutmose I who made further improvements to the temple in the New Kingdom.
It can be inferred that the procession of Wepwawet involved some kind of mock battle in which the enemies of Osiris were ceremonially defeated. The one who defeats these enemies is first identified as Wepwawet who is described as "championing his father" which is the same Egyptian phrase nḏ ı͗t=f so frequently applied to Horus in his role as Osiris's loving son who took care of him after his death and defended him against his enemies. But then the same role is assumed directly by Ikhernofret when he says "I overthrew the enemies of Osiris". In some mysterious way the chief officiant assumes the identity of the processional god in order to discharge his functions.
It is not explicitly stated in the text but from what follows it is to be inferred that Osiris was considered to be dead even before this first ritual event. The defence of Osiris against his enemies here relates to the efforts of Osiris's protectors to repel the attempts of Seth to mutilate his corpse in the interest of preserving his bodily integrity. The passivity of Osiris in this mock battle relying as he does on the work of his son Wepwawet to defend himself further alludes to his being dead at this stage.
The second episode in Ikhernofret's account of the Mysteries of Osiris which follows the procession of Wepwawet is described in the following terms: "I conduction the great procession and I followed the god in his steps. I let the divine ship sail, while Thoth directed the trip." This tells us that the next event was the departure of the great procession in which the statue of Osiris, Lord of Abydos, left the temple and began its journey to the tomb. Ikhernofret says that he "conducted the great procession" which implies that he took an active role in the transportation of the sacred barque containing the cult statue but then his statement that he "followed the god in his steps" seems to imply that he walked behind the cult statue in the procession and so he was not one of those carrying the sacred barque.
The clause translated as "I let the divine ship sail" is dı͗.n=ı͗ sḳd dpt-nṯr in the original ancient Egyptian which employs the grammatical construction [form of verb dı͗] + [verb] + [noun], which can be read as the stronger "I caused [noun] to [verb]" as well as the weaker "I let [noun] [verb], so his involvement in the sailing of the divine ship may be stronger than the translation implies. The god Thoth who is said to have "directed the trip" was also one of the subsidiary deities enshrined in the cult temple of Osiris at Abydos as the aforementioned stela of Thutmose I names "Thoth, Might of the Gods, Foremost of Hesret" among the temple's occupants. So this means that the statue of Thoth went ahead of the main body of the procession in order to lead the way though of course it was Ikhernofret who really was in charge of the direction of movement in practice.
The destination of the great procession which started from the main Abydos temple is specified in the following piece of text: "His beautiful weapons having been fastened, he proceeded to the district of Peqer, after I had cleared the path for the god to his tomb south of Peqer." The weapons mentioned at the beginning of this sentence are there to be used in the next ritual action following the arrival of the sacred barque at the tomb which will be described later. Peqer was the ancient Egyptian name for the location known today as Umm El Qa'ab which was the necropolis of the Early Dynastic kings at Abydos. The tomb of the First Dynasty king Djer was revered as the tomb of Osiris in the Middle Kingdom and so would have been the destination of the procession which is described here. This is how we know that Osiris must have been dead from the beginning as it says that he is going to his tomb.
Ikhernofret says that he "cleared the path for the god" which once again connects him to Wepwawet whose name means "Opener of the Ways". It is the same Egyptian word wꜣwt that is translated as the word "path" on the Ikhernofret Stela and "ways" in Wepwawet's name. The root of the word translated as "cleared" is ḏsr which can also mean "sacred" so that offers another layer of meaning to this action since another name for the necropolis was tꜣ ḏsr "sacred land".
The ancient Egyptian funerary practices were closely based on the Osirian mythos so we might expect to find an equivalent of the great procession of Osiris to his tomb in this context as well. This has been identified in the tradition of transporting the coffin in which the mummy of the deceased person was sealed to the tomb on a sledge dragged by a bull and accompanied by the mourners. This procession of the coffin to the tomb is depicted in the vignette to Chapter 1 of the Book of the Dead and is alluded to in the Pyramid Texts as well. In solar terms it can be interpreted as alluding to the setting of the sun in the western horizon of the sky in the evening as the necropolis was usually located to the west of the settlement to which it was attached so the procession of the coffin to the tomb followed the same direction of motion as the evening sun. The phrase "to go to ones horizon" was a euphemism for the simple verb "to die" which shows the link between the procession of the coffin to the tomb and the setting of the sun in the horizon.
The next part tells us that the Mysteries of Osiris included a mock battle and that Ikhernofret in his capacity as the chief officiant at the ceremony and therefore as the representative of Horus had to symbolically defeat the god's enemies. His account goes like this: "I championed Wenennefer on that day of great combat, and I overthrew all his enemies on the sandbanks of Nedit." The word nḏ which is translated as "champion" here again links Ikhernofret to Horus who was called nḏ ı͗t=f "Champion of His Father". Wenennefer is an epithet of Osiris which means something like "Beautiful Existent One" and reflects the idea that death is unable take away his existence. Nedit was the mythical location of the murder of Osiris at the hands of Seth in the Pyramid Texts which now becomes the place of the destruction of his enemies who are made to suffer the same fate to which they subjected him in a fitting act of retributive justice.
This episode in the Mysteries of Osiris featuring a mock battle may be alluded to in several places in the afterlife literature which is of course strongly Osirian. The Book of the Dead contains an example of this in Chapter 17, in the first gloss to the utterance associated with the vignette of the two lions facing in opposite directions with the sun rising in the horizon between them, when it says "As for yesterday, that is Osiris. As for tomorrow, that is Re on that day in which the foes of the Lord of All were destroyed and his son Horus was made to rule." The epithet "Lord of All" usually refers to Atum but in this case it must be referring to Osiris due to the fact that Horus is stated to be his son who inherited his throne. The destruction of the enemies of Osiris which is mentioned in this chapter must be alluding to Horus's defeat of the followers of Seth and this would have been the mythic prototype of the mock battle which occurred every year in the celebration of the Mysteries of Osiris.
The statement that Horus was made to rule on the same day that the enemies of Osiris were defeated may indicate that the coronation rituals may have involved a mock battle in which the enemies of the new king were symbolically defeated. This would need to be investigated further before reaching a conclusion on this matter so the idea should remain tentative.
The ancient Egyptian funerary practices were closely based on the Osirian mythos so we might expect to find an equivalent of the destruction of the enemies of Osiris in this context as well. This has been identified in the practice of slaughtering the bull which was selected to drag the sledge on which the coffin was transported to the tomb. The Pyramid Texts identify the bull with Seth who was sentenced in the divine tribunal to carry the body of Osiris to his tomb and be killed to provide for his funerary meal as punishment for the murder of his brother. The slaughter of the bull in the funerary rituals occurs at the same point as the mock battle in the celebration of the Mysteries of Osiris as in both cases it happens following the arrival of the procession at the tomb.
In the solar analogy that we considered previously the defeat of the god's enemies who attempted to violate his bodily integrity may be seen to correspond to the fight against the serpent enemy which takes place during Ra's passage through the underworld during the night. The passivity of the god is a common feature in both episodes with the actual work done by the servants of the god namely Horus in the example in which Osiris is the central figure and the crew of the solar barque in the example in which Ra takes that role. It also occurs at the right time sequentially as it happens after the setting of the sun in the western horizon in the evening which is equivalent to the arrival of the procession at the tomb and before the rising of the sun in the morning which is equivalent to the departure of the party on the return journey back towards the temple.
The next episode of the Mysteries of Osiris is omitted from the account on the Ikhernofret Stela which may be due to the fact that it was considered the most sacred part but we know from other sources that there was a night vigil at the tomb. The Lamentations of Isis and Nephythys were recited by two women acting in the role of those two goddesses who mourned the death of their brother. The sakhu rituals of transfiguration were then performed and from this point the resurrection of Osiris was then regarded as having been accomplished so the statue of the god could return to his temple where the people rejoiced at seeing him appear in glory having conquered death. In the equivalent part of the ancient Egyptian funerary practices there was no return procession as the sarcophagus was left in the tomb but it was believed that the person could go forth by day as a radiant spirit. In the solar analogy this correspond to the rising of the sun in the eastern horizon of the sky in the morning after having defeated the serpent enemy during the night in order to shine light upon the faces of the people living on the earth and cause rejoicing in their hearts.
In the New Kingdom the Mysteries of Osiris celebrated at Abydos became combined with the Sokar festival celebrated at Memphis to result in the most fully developed form of the festival which was identified on temple calendars as kꜣ-ḥr-kꜣ whence the Coptic name of the fourth month. The festival was celebrated over several days from the twenty-second to the thirtieth of the fourth month of the inundation season. It combined elements from the Mysteries of Osiris which ceremonially re-enacted the death and resurrection of the murdered god with elements from the festival of Sokar which were intended to assure the fertility of the land.
The first ceremony of the Sokar festival was hacking the earth which was originally a fertility rite with the aim of blessing the planting of the crops which occurred during this season but now it had another layer of meaning as it ritually opened the ground in order to enable it to receive the body of Osiris at his burial a few days later. The procession of the statue of Osiris to the tomb would be marked by the burial of figurines of the god Sokar made out of earth mixed with seeds so that the sprouting of the seeds would occur in time for the resurrection of Osiris to be celebrated. On the last day of the festival the chief officiant ceremonially would erect a Djed pillar to symbolise the resurrection of Osiris which was achieved by the dutiful actions of his son.

Apologies for the length and lateness of this post, past few months have been quite chaotic and haven't had much access to the internet, I dunno when I'll be back on this sub again after this so until then, more posts from me will be a Dream for ~~Spring~~ Summer (probably)
Over the years I've read a great many theories about the character of Varys, his motivations, his scheming throughout the series and his endgame, but none of them have ever truly sat well with me for how much his character feels simplified. He is one of ASOIAF's most complex characters who I still believe we haven't entirely cracked yet, and I for one still believe even after writing this post up and reflecting on it, there's still some of his character that I haven't figured out.
However, I want to propose an alternative character analysis to the character of Varys, one that drifts away from the more common take on his character - Varys is not a eunuch or a friend of Tyrion Lannister, and has spent his entire life lying about his manhood to deter anyone from thinking that he could father any children, so that fAegon, his true son, would always be protected while hiding.
Let us begin by breaking down each of the lies that define his character.
First, the lie that he was castrated as a young slave and had his manhood thrown into a fire by 'a certain man', which resulted in the fire turning magically blue and 'a voice' speaking out to Varys.

"One day at Myr, a certain man came to our folly. After the performance, he made an offer for me that my master found too tempting to refuse. I was in terror. I feared the man meant to use me as I had heard men used small boys, but in truth the only part of me he had need of was my manhood. He gave me a potion that made me powerless to move or speak, yet did nothing to dull my senses. With a long hooked blade, he sliced me root and stem, chanting all the while. I watched him burn my manly parts on a brazier. The flames turned blue, and I heard a voice answer his call, though I did not understand the words they spoke. "The mummers had sailed by the time he was done with me. Once I had served his purpose, the man had no further interest in me, so he put me out. When I asked him what I should do now, he answered that he supposed I should die. To spite him, I resolved to live. I begged, I stole, and I sold what parts of my body still remained to me. Soon I was as good a thief as any in Myr, and when I was older I learned that often the contents of a man's letters are more valuable than the contents of his purse. "Yet I still dream of that night, my lord. Not of the sorcerer, nor his blade, nor even the way my manhood shriveled as it burned. I dream of the voice. The voice from the flames. Was it a god, a demon, some conjurer's trick? I could not tell you, and I know all the tricks. All I can say for a certainty is that he called it, and it answered, and since that day I have hated magic and all those who practice it. If Lord Stannis is one such, I mean to see him dead." - ACOK - TYRION X

Now there is much from this excerpt to raise complaints and questions about Varys' story;

There are no known instances of individuals being mutilated and having their mutilated parts being sacrificed in the flames for the sake of blood magic or appeasing R'hllor. Individuals have often been sacrificed to the flames, but sacrificed in their whole bodies.
The details of how Varys was mutilated and that he was able to survive is unbelievable, and even more unbelievable that he went on to live as an orphan on the streets after this horrific ordeal with little to no medical treatment. Varys' simple claim that he "resolved to live" is very vague.
Varys can remember this mystic and mysterious voice, but not what it send or what the words sounded like. Melisandre claims to hear the voices of R'hllor in the flames and voices could be heard from Drogo's tent when Mirri Maz Duhr was performing her blood magic, but these voices are only heard by the sorcerers, and not the victims. By all accounts, Varys should not have been able to hear these voices, if part of himself was fed to the flames.

But the weakest part of all is that Varys says that he "hates magic and all those who practise it", yet he goes to great lengths to protect and look out for Daenerys, and try to join fAegon's forces with hers, despite knowing that she has three magical dragons by her side.

"How many days until we reach the river?" he asked Illyrio that evening. "At this pace, your queen's dragons will be larger than Aegon's three before I can lay eyes upon them." "Would it were so. A large dragon is more fearsome than a small one." The magister shrugged. "Much as it would please me to welcome Queen Daenerys to Volantis, I must rely on you and Griff for that. I can serve her best in Pentos, smoothing the way for her return. So long as I am with you, though … well, an old fat man must have his comforts, yes? Come, drink a cup of wine." - ADWD - TYRION II

Illyrio is Varys' best friend and closest confidant, who he works with to protect Daenerys for much of her life and is willing to crown her as Queen alongside fAegon even though she has magical fire-breathing dragons that Varys, a victim of magical flames, would despise.
Illyrio, the same man who praised R'hllor, a God that Varys despises;

Her brother was waiting in the cool of the entry hall, seated on the edge of the pool, his hand trailing in the water. He rose when she appeared and looked her over critically. "Stand there," he told her. "Turn around. Yes. Good. You look …" "Regal," Magister Illyrio said, stepping through an archway. He moved with surprising delicacy for such a massive man. Beneath loose garments of flame-colored silk, rolls of fat jiggled as he walked. Gemstones glittered on every finger, and his man had oiled his forked yellow beard until it shone like real gold. "May the Lord of Light shower you with blessings on this most fortunate day, Princess Daenerys," the magister said as he took her hand. He bowed his head, showing a thin glimpse of crooked yellow teeth through the gold of his beard. "She is a vision, Your Grace, a vision," he told her brother. "Drogo will be enraptured." - AGOT - DAENERYS I

Neither Viserys or Daenerys were followers of R'hllor at this point, or surrounded by any followers, meaning Illyrio didn't need to bring up this form of prayer to R'hllor unless it was genuine or near genuine on his own part.
It makes little sense that Varys would entertain the company of those who worship R'hllor or magical forms of fire, if Varys truly is traumatised by what seemingly happened to him as a slave child by fire.
As well as Illyrio, this is apparent in Aerys II, who would regularly burn people in the throne room with wildfire, in the presence of Varys;

Frustrated, Aerys turned to the Wisdoms of the ancient Guild of Alchemists, who knew the secret of producing the volatile jade green substance known as wildfire, said to be a close cousin to dragonflame. The pyromancers became a regular fixture at his court as the king's fascination with fire grew. By 280 AC, Aerys II had taken to burning traitors, murderers, and plotters, rather than hanging or beheading them. The king seemed to take great pleasure in these fiery executions, which were presided over by Wisdom Rossart, the grand master of the Guild of Alchemists...so much so that he granted Rossart the title of Lord and gave him a seat upon the small council. - TWOIAF - THE TARGARYEN KINGS - AERYS II

Not only would Varys be present to witness these burnings, but Varys even encouraged Aerys to burn other individuals suspected of treachery, and fuelled both Aerys' paranoia and bloodlust;

He floated in heat, in memory. "After dancing griffins lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him." Why am I telling this absurd ugly child? "He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins' men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King's Landing. Beneath Baelor's Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself. - ASOS - JAIME V

Varys developed a reputation for egging on Aerys' paranoia and encouraging him to execute apparent traitors by fire, so much so that people like Barristan lay chief blame for Aerys' downfall into madness on Varys for exploiting it;

"It is not a question of wanting. The throne is mine, as Robert's heir. That is law. After me, it must pass to my daughter, unless Selyse should finally give me a son." He ran three fingers lightly down the table, over the layers of smooth hard varnish, dark with age. "I am king. Wants do not enter into it. I have a duty to my daughter. To the realm. Even to Robert. He loved me but little, I know, yet he was my brother. The Lannister woman gave him horns and made a motley fool of him. She may have murdered him as well, as she murdered Jon Arryn and Ned Stark. For such crimes there must be justice. Starting with Cersei and her abominations. But only starting. I mean to scour that court clean. As Robert should have done, after the Trident. Ser Barristan once told me that the rot in King Aerys's reign began with Varys. The eunuch should never have been pardoned. No more than the Kingslayer. At the least, Robert should have stripped the white cloak from Jaime and sent him to the Wall, as Lord Stark urged. He listened to Jon Arryn instead. I was still at Storm's End, under siege and unconsulted." He turned abruptly, to give Davos a hard shrewd look. "The truth, now. Why did you wish to murder Lady Melisandre?" - ASOS - DAVOS IV

It makes very little sense that Varys, a eunuch who seemingly hates worshippers of R'hllor and pyromancers for burning people and sacrificing his manhood to the flames as a child, would be best friends with a man who praises R'hllor or encourage his previous King to burn several people, many of whom were likely innocent of the claims of treachery put against them.
But it makes a lot more sense that Varys actually never had a problem with R'hllor or wildfire, and instead chose to encourage Aerys' paranoia so that he would always both seem useful to Aerys and be on good relations with him, to solidify his position of power on the Small Council, given that he was just a young foreign man in Westeros and wholly dependent on Aerys' support to maintain his standing in King's Landing.
The second lie of Varys' character that I wish to tackle is his apparent concern for the wellbeing of children;

"No," Ned pleaded, his voice cracking. "Varys, gods have mercy, do as you like with me, but leave my daughter out of your schemes. Sansa's no more than a child." "Rhaenys was a child too. Prince Rhaegar's daughter. A precious little thing, younger than your girls. She had a small black kitten she called Balerion, did you know? I always wondered what happened to him. Rhaenys liked to pretend he was the true Balerion, the Black Dread of old, but I imagine the Lannisters taught her the difference between a kitten and a dragon quick enough, the day they broke down her door." Varys gave a long weary sigh, the sigh of a man who carried all the sadness of the world in a sack upon his shoulders. "The High Septon once told me that as we sin, so do we suffer. If that's true, Lord Eddard, tell me … why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones? Ponder it, if you would, while you wait upon the queen. And spare a thought for this as well: The next visitor who calls on you could bring you bread and cheese and the milk of the poppy for your pain … or he could bring you Sansa's head. - AGOT - EDDARD XV

Varys shows apparent disgust at the murders of Rhaegar's children, Rhaenys and Aegon, at the end of Robert's Rebellion, and the way in which they were brutally murdered.
However, we later learn in the series that Aegon seemingly survived and was swapped with a tanner's child, bought by Varys and swapped with Aegon, so that this bought child could be sacrificed to the Lannisters, who Varys presumed would want to kill Rhaegar's children;

"A true friend, our Lord Connington. He must be, to remain so fiercely loyal to the grandson of the king who took his lands and titles and sent him into exile. A pity about that. Elsewise Prince Rhaegar's friend might have been on hand when my father sacked King's Landing, to save Prince Rhaegar's precious little son from getting his royal brains dashed out against a wall." The lad flushed. "That was not me. I told you. That was some tanner's son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died birthing him. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of Arbor gold. He had other sons but had never tasted Arbor gold. Varys gave the Pisswater boy to my lady mother and carried me away." "Aye." Tyrion moved his elephants. "And when the pisswater prince was safely dead, the eunuch smuggled you across the narrow sea to his fat friend the cheesemonger, who hid you on a poleboat and found an exile lord willing to call himself your father. It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort." - ADWD - TYRION VI

This entire "splendid story" as Tyrion calls it, is full of inconsistencies and unbelievable acts.
The first red flag of this story is the idea that Varys, a former slave child who abhors slavery, would willingly buy another man's young child. Also pay attention to the mention of 'Arbor gold', which has been well documented on this sub for years for how its always a signal of lies, as individuals like Littlefinger mention it in passing whenever they are telling a lie.
The second red flag is the idea that Varys, someone who seemingly abhors the murder and suffering of innocent children, would willingly sacrifice an innocent young child and allow them to be murdered just to spare another, more valuable child. The idea that Varys would also take Elia's child away from her, either willingly or unwillingly on her part, is also questionable.
The third red flag is why Varys chose only to switch Aegon with another child, and not do the same for Rhaenys. Having two imposter Targaryen children raised to believe they are Targaryens could've helped to support their claims, build them up as a rival power in Westeros and also provide a backup option for Varys incase fAegon didn't survive his childhood.
The final red flag is the idea that Varys was able to foresee how the Rebellion was going to end, accurately guessed that Rhaegar's children would be murdered by the Lannisters, knew where and when to find Elia and her children, be able to remove one of her children away from her without anyone knowing, and knew that one of Tywin's men would kill the children so brutally that next to no one would be able to recognise them - the idea story is built on a series of flimsy conveniences and incredible predictive abilities on Varys' part.
If Varys truly cared so much about the protection and well-being of children, he would not have willingly bought and sacrificed an innocent child to be sacrificed in exchange for Aegon's survival, nor would he have abandoned Rhaenys to her fate if he could have prevented it. This means either Varys truly doesn't give a damn about the wellbeing of children and just lies to the likes of Ned and Tyrion about it, or that the entire story about Aegon being swapped with a tanner's child is a lie like some fans believe, or that both stories are lies muddled together to make it more difficult to discern the truth.
Perhaps the truth of Varys' lies is best exposed in this often cited excerpt from ACOK, a conversation between him and Tyrion about the infamous "Shadow on the Wall" riddle;

Varys smiled. "Here, then. Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less.""So power is a mummer's trick?" "A shadow on the wall," Varys murmured, "yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow." Tyrion smiled. "Lord Varys, I am growing strangely fond of you. I may kill you yet, but I think I'd feel sad about it." - ACOK - TYRION II

The question of who Varys refers to in this conversation has been debated for years on this sub. Some believe that Varys was alluding to fAegon, that if people believe he is the real Aegon then he will have power, even if he doesn't truly have power as a common non-Targaryen child. Others have suggested Varys was alluding to Littlefinger, who was once a young small man who rose very high in King's Landing and cast a large shadow over the realm by starting the WotFk through his schemes.
I however believe that Varys is talking about himself.
Varys was once a very small man when he came to King's Landing at Aerys' calling for him to join the Small Council. He was seen as a young ex-slave, without a lordship or house of his own, weak and powerless. But overtime, through his manipulation of Aerys, encouraging his paranoia and own self-inflicted downfall, Varys cast a very large shadow over the empire of House Targaryen in Westeros, and destroyed it forever. What Varys says here to Tyrion is a very veiled threat that he can be dangerous to Tyrion if he underestimates Varys.
Tyrion however, in his arrogance, believes that Varys is referring to him, being a "very small man" and begins considering him a friend.
This is the third and final lie of Varys' character that I wish to dissect here - the lie that he is a friend or useful ally of sorts to Tyrion.
The idea of Varys betraying Tyrion's trust and working against him is first presented to us by Cersei, when she lets slip that Varys informed her of Tyrion's plan to send the Hound into battle at the Battle of the Blackwater;

"Varys says so." The swan was too rich for his taste. A line appeared on Cersei's pale white brow, between those lovely eyes. "You put too much trust in that eunuch." "He serves me well." "Or so he'd have you believe. You think you're the only one he whispers secrets to? He gives each of us just enough to convince us that we'd be helpless without him. He played the same game with me, when I first wed Robert. For years, I was convinced I had no truer friend at court, but now . . ." She studied his face for a moment. "He says you mean to take the Hound from Joffrey." - ACOK - TYRION XII

On a first read, we are quick to dismiss Cersei's claims for how much she is built up as an antagonistic and untrustworthy character, but in later understanding her motives in her own POV chapters, we realise there may be an inkling of truth in her claims. In the case of the Hound, Varys has no reason to inform her of Tyrion's plan, however innocent and insignificant in the grand game of thrones they may be, other than to maintain some level of trust with her and to invoke conflict between the Lannister siblings, which benefits Varys.
There are frequent moments throughout the series in which Varys alludes to knowing key information and deliberately withholding it from Tyrion even if it may benefit Tyrion, including who ordered Mandon Moore to kill Tyrion;

Bronn had turned up all he could on Ser Mandon, but no doubt Varys knew a deal more . . . should he choose to share it. "The man seems to have been quite friendless," Tyrion said carefully. "Sadly," said Varys, "oh, sadly. You might find some kin if you turned over enough stones back in the Vale, but here . . . Lord Arryn brought him to King's Landing and Robert gave him his white cloak, but neither loved him much, I fear. Nor was he the sort the smallfolk cheer in tourneys, despite his undoubted prowess. Why, even his brothers of the Kingsguard never warmed to him. Ser Barristan was once heard to say that the man had no friend but his sword and no life but duty . . . but you know, I do not think Selmy meant it altogether as praise. Which is queer when you consider it, is it not? Those are the very qualities we seek in our Kingsguard, it could be said—men who live not for themselves, but for their king. By those lights, our brave Ser Mandon was the perfect white knight. And he died as a knight of the Kingsguard ought, with sword in hand, defending one of the king's own blood." The eunuch gave him a slimy smile and watched him sharply. Trying to murder one of the king's own blood, you mean. Tyrion wondered if Varys knew rather more than he was saying. - ASOS - TYRION II

When Tyrion presses Varys for information about Mandon, Varys deliberately skims over Mandon's life and offers vague beliefs about the perfect Kingsguard to try and derail Tyrion's line of questioning, and when Varys pretends not to have known about Mandon trying to kill Tyrion, he watches Tyrion "sharply" to try and gather how much Tyrion himself knows, whether or not Tyrion will seek retribution for it from the anger on his face, and almost openly mocks him for the smile he gives. Tyrion briefly considers the idea that Varys is deliberately holding information back from him, but chooses instead to talk about other matters, which is what Varys wanted.
On the matter of Varys' choosing to support the Lannisters or Stannis, Varys once again tries to confuse Tyrion with riddles and not directly answer the question;

"He accuses my brother and sister of incest. I wonder how he came by that suspicion." "Perhaps he read a book and looked at the color of a bastard's hair, as Ned Stark did, and Jon Arryn before him. Or perhaps someone whispered it in his ear." The eunuch's laugh was not his usual giggle, but deeper and more throaty. "Someone like you, perchance?" "Am I suspected? It was not me." "If it had been, would you admit it?" "No. But why should I betray a secret I have kept so long? It is one thing to deceive a king, and quite another to hide from the cricket in the rushes and the little bird in the chimney. Besides, the bastards were there for all to see." - ACOK - TYRION III

We know for certain that Varys didn't want the WotFK to start so soon or for the truth of Cersei's children to come out in AGOT because he wanted more time for Viserys' forces to grow in strength and come closer to Westeros in order to invade, either to take the throne for themselves or be the ones to kill the beloved Robert Baratheon and paint themselves as villainous usurpers to make fAegon more heroic and not taint him with Robert's blood on his hands.
However, like with Cersei and Tyrion, Varys needs to tell those on the Small Council a certain amount of secretive information in order to gain their trust and support, including Stannis. That Varys even chooses to give a deeper and more unsettling laugh about the matter is another example of him openly laughing about his treachery in Tyrion's face and Tyrion not realising it.
When Tyrion almost stumbles upon this ruse and Varys realises that his laugh was too deep and questionable, Varys tries to brush it off by saying its harder to keep a secret secret if so many people are investigating it, and insists that there were so many of Robert's bastards to find for Stannis to figure out the truth on his own. But again, this last statement from Varys is littered with half-truths.
Varys insists it is hard to keep deceiving King Robert about the truth of his children's true parentage, and even harder to keep deceiving the truth from those who are deliberately looking for the truth and wanting to find it. This in itself is a reference to his believe that Stannis was always power-hungry for the Iron Throne, and was just looking for an excuse to try to claim it for himself as Robert's true heir, regardless of whether or not Cersei's children were Robert's or not.
But his own comment about "betraying a secret I have held for so long" is a direct allusion to fAegon's existence, and his determination not to reveal the truth of his existence to anyone, including Tyrion.
Even when Tyrion rides with Illyrio and Jon Connington's entourage in ADWD, Tyrion is only led to believe that they are going to support Daenerys' claim for the Iron Throne, and has to work out for himself that fAegon is actually Aegon and the one Varys and Illyrio wish to crown;

Young Griff hesitated. "Lannister? Your father—" "—is dead. At my hand. If it please Your Grace to call me Yollo or Hugor, so be it, but know that I was born Tyrion of House Lannister, trueborn son of Tywin and Joanna, both of whom I slew. Men will tell you that I am a kingslayer, a kinslayer, and a liar, and all of that is true … but then, we are a company of liars, are we not? Take your feigned father. Griff, is it?" The dwarf sniggered. "You should thank the gods that Varys the Spider is a part of this plot of yours. Griff would not have fooled the cockless wonder for an instant, no more than it did me. No lord, my lordship says, no knight. And I'm no dwarf. Just saying a thing does not make it true. Who better to raise Prince Rhaegar's infant son than Prince Rhaegar's dear friend Jon Connington, once Lord of Griffin's Roost and Hand of the King?" "Be quiet." Griff's voice was uneasy. - ADWD - TYRION V

After Tyrion works out the truth and manipulates both fAegon and Jon Connington into riding for Westeros instead of joining forces with Daenerys, he disappears and goes off to seek her out.
This likely angers Varys, and is the reason why Varys no longer affectionately calls Tyrion by his name or by '"lord" and instead refers to him as "the imp" in ADWD's epilogue, a term that Varys knows Tyrion hates;

Ser Kevan tried to rise, but the strength had left him. He could not feel his legs. "I thought the crossbow fitting. You shared so much with Lord Tywin, why not that? Your niece will think the Tyrells had you murdered, mayhaps with the connivance of the Imp. The Tyrells will suspect her. Someone somewhere will find a way to blame the Dornishmen. Doubt, division, and mistrust will eat the very ground beneath your boy king, whilst Aegon raises his banner above Storm's End and the lords of the realm gather round him." "Aegon?" For a moment he did not understand. Then he remembered. A babe swaddled in a crimson cloak, the cloth stained with his blood and brains. "Dead. He's dead." - ADWD - EPILOGUE

Varys chooses to frame Tyrion for Kevan's murder, **deliberately and intentionally further putting his life in danger by Cersei's wrath, already knowing that Tyrion has a large bounty on his head because of her, and talks lowly of Tyrion by calling him an "Imp" and referring to his "connivance" in a very scorned tone.
Varys never considered Tyrion a friend or ally in ASOIAF and was just using him, another lie that he tells throughout the series, and by the end of ADWD, he hates Tyrion for his scheming and knowing too much information than Varys wished him to know.
But there is a bigger telling point about how much Varys uses Tyrion, and a more ground-breaking twist in the narrative that reflects both how much Varys underestimates Tyrion and how much Varys never cared for him;
In ASOS, Varys didn't tell Tyrion how to reach the Tower of the Hand to go and kill Tywin. Varys told him this key information so that Tyrion could go and kill Shae instead, who Varys considered a greater threat to him.
Shae is one of the few, perhaps the only, people in ASOIAF to see through Varys' disguises;

A whiff of something rank made him turn his head. Shae stood in the door behind him, dressed in the silvery robe he'd given her. I loved a maid as white as winter, with moonglow in her hair. Behind her stood one of the begging brothers, a portly man in filthy patched robes, his bare feet crusty with dirt, a bowl hung about his neck on a leather thong where a septon would have worn a crystal. The smell of him would have gagged a rat. "Lord Varys has come to see you," Shae announced. The begging brother blinked at her, astonished. Tyrion laughed. "To be sure. How is it you knew him when I did not?" She shrugged. "It's still him. Only dressed different." - ACOK - TYRION X

This catches Varys off guard, and any chance of seeing him being angry or looking threatened is waved away from the reader when Tyrion laughs it off and turns his attention again to his paramour Shae.
Wearing disguises is a very important part of Varys' many schemes, including visiting Ned Stark in the Black Cells as the gaoler Rugen;

"Wine," a voice answered. It was not the rat-faced man; this gaoler was stouter, shorter, though he wore the same leather half cape and spiked steel cap. "Drink, Lord Eddard." He thrust a wineskin into Ned's hands. The voice was strangely familiar, yet it took Ned Stark a moment to place it. "Varys?" he said groggily when it came. He touched the man's face. "I'm not … not dreaming this. You're here." The eunuch's plump cheeks were covered with a dark stubble of beard. Ned felt the coarse hair with his fingers. Varys had transformed himself into a grizzled turnkey, reeking of sweat and sour wine. "How did you … what sort of magician are you?" - AGOT - EDDARD XV

His disguise as Rugen is very important to Varys' plans after Tyrion's disappearance from King's Landing, as Varys seeks to frame Rugen as a Tyrell puppet who broke Tyrion from imprisonment on the Tyrells' behalf, to sow division and further paranoia between Cersei and the Tyrells;

Gold, yes, but the moment Cersei took it she could tell that it was wrong. Too small, she thought, too thin. The coin was old and worn. On one side was a king's face in profile, on the other side the imprint of a hand. "This is no dragon," she said. "No," Qyburn agreed. "It dates from before the Conquest, Your Grace. The king is Garth the Twelfth, and the hand is the sigil of House Gardener." Of Highgarden. Cersei closed her hand around the coin. What treachery is this? Mace Tyrell had been one of Tyrion's judges, and had called loudly for his death. Was that some ploy? Could he have been plotting with the Imp all the while, conspiring at Father's death? With Tywin Lannister in his grave, Lord Tyrell was an obvious choice to be King's Hand, but even so . . . "You will not speak of this with anyone," she commanded. - AFFC - CERSEI II

But this ploy to incite conflict between the Lannisters and Tyrells would have failed if Shae had lived, as she had seen through Varys' disguises and could've warned Cersei of it, something which Varys could not allow, especially given that he considered her one of Cersei's pawns after Tyrion's trial.
It is also fundamentally not in Varys' interest for Tyrion to kill Tywin, as keeping Tywin alive for now would ensure the Dornish would have someone to rise up and seek vengeance against for Elia's murder. As readers are shown in AFFC and ADWD Dornish chapters, the Martells are divided and frankly confused about how to seek vengeance for Elia's murder now that Tywin, Gregor and Armory Lorch - the three men involved in her murder - are now dead. **If Tywin had lived, Varys could've played on the Dornish thirst for vengeance against him and had fAegon promise them it in exchange for their support, something which they likely would've agreed to.
So by this point in the post, we've explored some of the key lies of Varys' character to know for sure what he is not;

He is not the victim of slavery or a sacrificial victim to magical fires, nor does he abhor those who worship R'hllor or magical flames
He does not hate the killing and suffering of innocent children, and has actually sought to profit from it in the past
He has never been a friend or ally to Tyrion Lannister but has instead used him, and even manipulated him into killing Shae to protect one of Varys' own future schemes

So who is the real Varys? Behind all of these lies and deceptions, who is he really deep down?
Well, Varys is not a eunuch, and in fact fAegon's true father by blood. Varys has deliberately spent his life lying about being a eunuch in order to discourage people from the truth that he is the father of fAegon by Illyrio’s sister, and wants to control the Iron Throne through fAegon.
Recall Varys' conversation with Tyrion in ACOK that I previously cited earlier;

"He accuses my brother and sister of incest. I wonder how he came by that suspicion." "Perhaps he read a book and looked at the color of a bastard's hair, as Ned Stark did, and Jon Arryn before him. Or perhaps someone whispered it in his ear." The eunuch's laugh was not his usual giggle, but deeper and more throaty. "Someone like you, perchance?" "Am I suspected? It was not me." "If it had been, would you admit it?" "No. But why should I betray a secret I have kept so long? It is one thing to deceive a king, and quite another to hide from the cricket in the rushes and the little bird in the chimney. Besides, the bastards were there for all to see." - ACOK - TYRION III

"Why should I betray a secret I have kept so long?" is the biggest hint towards fAegon's existence and Varys' own true motivations in the entire series. Varys makes this spur of the moment claim after being caught off guard by Tyrion and doesn't think it through before saying it and letting Tyrion realise there is more to him.
Varys was never castrated and he is not bald. He deliberately shaves his head to hide his true parentage and lies about being a eunuch to discourage people from believing that he is capable of fathering a child, a child with Blackfyre blood that he wishes to sit on the Iron Throne, a secret that Varys has cared for and kept so long.
The last time we see Varys in ADWD, he finally begins to tell the truth about fAegon's existence, and when he does, and speaks about the son he loves, he begins to speak in his real, deeper and non-emasculated voice;**

"Aegon?" For a moment he did not understand. Then he remembered. A babe swaddled in a crimson cloak, the cloth stained with his blood and brains. "Dead. He's dead." "No." The eunuch's voice seemed deeper. "He is here. Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them." - ADWD - EPILOGUE

This is who Varys truly is - not a eunuch, not a victim of slavery or castration, not a man who weeps for the suffering of children, not a friend of Tyrion Lannister, but a loving father who wishes to cast a very large shadow over the greatest empire the world of ASOIAF has ever known.
TLDR:
Varys is not a eunuch but instead the father of fAegon, a secret he has spent his life protecting, and a lie he has spent his life telling to better protect his son.
Varys does not hate R'hllor or those who worship magical flames, his entire story about his manhood being sacrificed to flames is a lie he tells to gain Tyrion's trust in their efforts to defeat Stannis in ACOK. Varys is close friends with Illyrio, a man who praises R'hllor, and spent the early parts of his life encouraging Aerys to feed innocent people to the flames of wildfire.
Varys does not hate the suffering of innocent children, he was prepared to buy an innocent child from a man and sacrifice him in order to protect the "real" Aegon, he was prepared to abandon Rhaenys to her brutal death even if he could have saved her too and prepared to send Viserys and Daenerys into a doomed invasion of Westeros that would've led to their deaths just to make fAegon appear a more heroic saviour compared to them.
Varys was never a friend or ally to Tyrion but instead was using him ever since they first met. He has repeatedly withheld important information from him such as who hired Mandon Moore to kill Tyrion and how Stannis figured out the truth about Cersei's children, and on frequent occasions has nearly openly laughed in Tyrion's face at both his misfortune and the information Varys withheld from him. Varys also manipulated Tyrion into killing Shae so that she would not expose Varys' identity as Rugen and didn't trust Tyrion with the information about fAegon's existence, something that Tyrion had to figure out himself. Varys also talks lowly of Tyrion at the end of ADWD as a "conniving Imp" which reflects Varys' true feelings about Tyrion.
Varys has spent his life shaving his hair and lying about being a eunuch to discourage anyone from believing he could father fAegon and better protect him, so that fAegon could one day take the Iron Throne, and cast a very large shadow over the Targaryen Empire forever.
Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed this theory be sure to read some of my other theories below;
All the signs that Tywin directly gave the Mountain the order to badly mistreat Elia Martell
The Father Rhaegaer, the Son Jon and the Holy Ghost Ghost, religious symbolism
Mance Rayder is a servant of the Others
Leyton Hightower is the Lord of Light and Malora the Mad Maid is Quaithe
2022 archive of ASOIAF theories available at the bottom of this post

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Liberated (GOG key)
STAR WARS: Squadrons (Origin)
Wanderlust Travel Stories (GOG key)
Dishonored 2 (GOG)

Software

Ashampoo Photo Optimizer 7
GameMaker Studio 2 Creator 12 Months
Music Maker EDM Edition
Pathfinder Second Edition Core Rulebook and Starfinder Core Rulebook
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GameDev.tv

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My REPs: 202 successful trades, 0 dispute.

112 Operator
911 Operator
Aarklash: Legacy
Agent in Depth
Alchemist's Castle
Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs + Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Among Us
Arcade Spirits
Armello
Army Men RTS
Assault Suit Leynos
Backbone
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Beat Hazard 2
Behold the Kickmen
Between the Stars
Bezier
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Bionic Commando Rearmed
Blade Assault
Blood And Zombies
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Brothers - A Tale of Two Sons
[email protected]
Builder Simulator
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Chicka Wars Chicken Meat
CivCity: Rome
Click and Slay
Concept Destruction
Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3?!
Corridor Z
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Cosmonautica
Crayon Physics Deluxe (may keep)
CROSSBOW: Bloodnight
Dagon - The Eldritch Box DLC
Darksburg
Dead Age
Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
Death Squared
Demon Turf
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Double Cross
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Doughlings: Invasion
Draw Slasher
Drawful 2
Driftland: The Magic Revival
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El Hijo
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Emily is Away <3
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Expand
Fallout
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Farming Simulator 17
Firegirl: Hack 'n Splash Rescue
First Class Trouble
Five Dates
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Forged Battalion
Fortissimo FA INTL Ver
Founders' Fortune
Frick, Inc.
Full Throttle Remastered
Fun with Ragdolls: The Game
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Garfield Kart - Furious Racing
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Hack 'n' Slash + Soundtrack (& Spacebase GIFT)
_ + Hack 'n' Slash_
_ + Hack 'n' Slash Soundtrack_
_ + Spacebase GIFT_
Halcyon 6: Lightspeed Edition
Harmony's Odyssey
Heart Fragment - Book Two: Belief Fragments (Shannon & Lana)
Helheim Hassle
Hellbound
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Hexologic
Hidden & Dangerous 2: Courage Under Fire
Hidden & Dangerous: Action Pack
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How to Sing to Open Your Heart
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Internet Cafe Simulator
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Mainlining
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Resident Evil Revelations 2 first chapter
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Sakura Alien
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- Sakura Forest Girls
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Sakura knight set
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Sakura MMO set
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Save Room - Organization Puzzle
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Yoku's Island Express
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ΔV: Rings of Saturn

DOOM 64 (Bethesda.net)
Command & Conquer Remastered Collection (ORIGIN key)
Liberated (GOG key)
STAR WARS: Squadrons (Origin)
Wanderlust Travel Stories (GOG key)
Dishonored 2 (GOG)

Software

Ashampoo Photo Optimizer 7
GameMaker Studio 2 Creator 12 Months
Music Maker EDM Edition
Pathfinder Second Edition Core Rulebook and Starfinder Core Rulebook
Polygon Farm, Polygon City, and Polygon Prototype

GameDev.tv

Complete Unity 3D Developer

Zenva Academy

Intro to Game Development with Unity

#########################################################

Region is NA

My REPs: 202 successful trades, 0 dispute.

Trigger warning: Discussion of food/feeding yourself but no calories, weight, or weight loss mentioned.

As I've gotten older my food issues have become worse instead of better. I have autism and ADHD and generally forget to eat until I'm starving, then overeat/overcompensate on highly-palatable foods late in the afternoon/evening. Whenever I try to meal prep or buy things in advance, I feel this impenetrable wall of resistance to eating what it is I've prepped or bought. I want to eat "healthier" in that I just want to incorporate more fruits and veggies in my diet, but I've become so averse to planning meals/dishes out in advance that produce and salads generally just wilt in my fridge or inevitably get freezer burnt. I've also ordered expensive meal prep that went bad in the fridge.

I also have a lot of guilt around food, as it was one of the main ways that my mom saved our family money back when we were low middle class. She looked down on people who ate fast food or in restaurants "too much," so I know I have that annoying moral layer with food as well. Like many people, I have hyperfixation meals that I will eat 2-3 times a day for a month, and then wake up never wanting again, so right now I have a cabinet full of spaghetti sauce and dried pasta that I can't get myself to eat. I'm honestly considering PAD (pathological demand avoidance) in large part due to all the issues I'm experiencing with food. So far the only thing that helps is allowing myself to eat out, but I don't have the time or money to do that three meals a day (and woman cannot live on spicy chicken nuggets/ghost pepper ranch alone, after all).

I'm not sure what I'm looking for with this post, but if it resonates at all with you, or if you just want to vent/share/commiserate I'd appreciate it. I don't really have anyone to talk to about this IRL who doesn't have their own food hangups or who is neurotypical, like my mom. I swear if I could just eat nutritionally-optimized beige bricks three meals a day or take an IV drip, I'd do it.

I've spent years tinkering with the idea, but everything I had come up with weighed the system down without creating any genuine depth, only contrivance. That seems to be the fate of just about every other implementation I've seen from other systems: layers of contrivance. Increase attack or increase defense
In my search for the universals of tactical or strategic depth among various game media, I came to the realization that games rich in depth commonly offer synergistic combinations of a small number of fundamental elements. For instance, DNA code is composed of four amino acids - adenine, guanine, cytosine, and thymine - and yet the resulting complexity is incomprehensible in scope.
With this in mind, I reconstructed my existing combat mechanics with the following principle: a combat element is defined by its relationship to other combat elements. An element's proximity to another element is what gives meaning. This sounds vague so I'll demonstrate it concretely.
I ordered melee combat along four dimensions:

Skill at the Hand
Skill at Strokes by the Implements of War
Skill at the Finer Science of Fencing
Skill at Taking Up Wards

In order to act out any behavior in combat, you have to be in the position to do so. For example, if your footing is poor, you cannot take up a fighting stance. If you cannot take up a fighting stance, you cannot perform highly efficient technique. If you cannot perform highly efficient technique, your mastery of fencing can't be brought to bear. I don't have to mechanically define these rules. They are natural corollaries of the statement "You cannot take up a ward if your footing is poor or if you do not have adequate space".
Thus, the fighting stance defines a specific range of possibilities. A basic, unmodified 3d6 roll on your action creates a bell curve of distribution where an attacker or defender can reliably predict what you're likely to do in any given stance. An example might look like this for an attack roll:
Ward of the Fool

3-5: switch to Long Ward (Plow if not enough space) and end turn
6-8: a provocation
9-12: a thrust
13-15: a provocation
16-18: switch to ward of choice and re-roll attack

It's quick to see how slight randomness allows a player more agency than perfect choice because it allows them to bait opponents by layers of ignorance and it allows you to cover your intent. Inversely, I can choose low risk stances to test an opponent's habits and abilities before I settle on a bolder strategy.
It's also quickly apparent how the other combat elements play their role. But where does character skill come into play? To start, your range of wards is limited by your skill level. Secondly, skill determines the efficacy of a technique. For instance, from the Fool's Guard, I roll "thrust". I'm a grandmaster, so it basically says I can target any area I like, including between the eye slit (as long as the point is thin and long enough)! So, if the opponent doesn't stop me, my estoc is going straight through his brain. [EDIT: can you imagine how intense that moment would be for a player on either side, waiting to see if the defense will stop a death blow?]
I can take it even further. Now it becomes apparent that the geometry of my weapon is extremely important for ordering my tactical considerations. I can see that if my weapon has poor thrusting capabilities, the fool's ward may not be immediately useful (although it can still be useful with the right setup and a bit of luck). If the enemy has broad plate coverage, this also means some other wards may not be that effective either. So I'll need a ward that allows me to close the distance and grapple the enemy or swing the blunt part of the weapon at them. "Half Ward" will do in this instance.
With that in mind, it stands to reason that no weapon will be universally dominant. A two handed sword will be less effective than a short sword in a crowded melee due to space limitations on wards, and a spear with a broad point will be less effective than a well tapered sword against full armor despite its reach advantage
Even further...
Facing requirements for stances can add natural consequences. Let's take the long guard. It only works in front of the character. Considering the tight action economy, it's not a simple matter of an opponent moving to the flank and attacking. However, if they are well developed in the fencing skill, they can choose a ward which gives them an opportunity to sidestep and attack or counterattack against an opponent who can't bring a skilled defense to bear. This means there is no need to define flanking rules, and at the same time, groups of enemies can be managed by clever use of footwork.

The keys on the list are global unless otherwise stated. Paypal fees if any is on the buyer side. Prices are in USD and included of Paypal Fees. Not open for game trade.
My IGS Rep Page: https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/xksm8m/zeplights_igs_rep_page/
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L

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O

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S

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T

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Hello everyone,

Imagine being trapped in a destructive cycle for eight long years, knowing you need to escape but feeling utterly powerless to do so. That was my reality. I'm a 26-year-old man who, from the tender age of 12, found himself caught in the relentless grip of pornography and masturbation addiction.

By 18, I was painfully aware of the damage it was causing and desperate to break free. I tried everything – NoFap, meditation, sports, cold showers, even punishing myself, but to no avail. It felt like my addiction was an unshakeable opponent. But then, something changed. I discovered a strategy that changed my life. If you're struggling, I want to share this with you...

Caught in the grip of this addiction, I would spend an average of seven hours per day, even peaking at thirteen hours sometimes. The toll of this habit was heavy, affecting my personal, professional, and social life severely. Yet everything changed when I discovered Jack Trimpey's Rational Recovery method.

While his book provided me with crucial insights, it was his comprehensive AVRT Demonstration, where Trimpey guided an alcohol addict towards permanent abstinence, that truly filled the missing pieces in my fight against addiction. The Rational Recovery method fundamentally shifted my perspective towards addiction, helping me to recognize and silence the voice of my brain (the Beast) pushing me to consume. Today, I want to share my experience, hoping it could be an effective solution for many of you. You can access the entire demonstration at the end in the 'Useful Resources' section.

Understanding Addiction and Navigating this Guide

Let's talk about what addiction really is. Addiction isn't about the behavior itself, but rather the desire to escape pain and seek a better life. It is marked by ambivalence, a feeling of being torn between two minds. Overcoming addiction involves breaking free from the grip of pleasure and reclaiming control over oneself.

Before I delve into how I applied the Rational Recovery method and the results I got, I want to pose a simple but powerful question: If I placed a big red button in front of you that, when pressed, would instantly eradicate your addiction, would you press it?

If your answer is 'yes', then you have all the reasons you need to quit. I've been where you are now, writing pages upon pages of reasons to stop, yet relapsing despite knowing how harmful it was. It's important to recognize when a pattern becomes harmful, it's time to stop.

As you explore this guide, remember the importance of keeping an open mind. Let's borrow some wisdom from Mark Twain, who once said, “It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.” It's a nod to the importance of being receptive to new ideas and methods. This guide may offer a different approach, but embracing it might bring about the change you're seeking.

What is AVRT?

AVRT (Addictive Voice Recognition Technique) is a transformative strategy that I've found invaluable in my journey to overcoming addiction. This technique helps you recognize and differentiate yourself from the 'addictive voice', the part of your primitive brain structure that fuels your addiction.

Think of AVRT as your personal defense mechanism that works under any circumstance, regardless of your emotional state – be it sadness, anger,boredom, loneliness, or stress. The aim here isn't to suppress these emotions, but rather to stay in control of your actions, no matter what you're feeling.

The 'addictive voice' – which we'll call the 'beast' – is a sneaky internal saboteur. It's the part of you that wants to continue with the harmful habit, despite you consciously knowing it's not beneficial. AVRT is about learning to separate this beast from your own true will, thus empowering you to reclaim your life.

The power of AVRT lies in this distinction between you and the beast. Once you master this technique, you'll learn to reject the rationalizations and temptations that originate from the beast. The dissociation from the beast is what makes it possible to make a firm, irrevocable commitment to quit your addiction. By not identifying with the beast, you can prevent yourself from suffering commonly associated with resisting addiction.

In essence, AVRT isn't about fighting or resisting; it's about recognizing, dissociating, and reclaiming control of your life.

What is the "beast"?

The "beast" is a term coined by the Rational Recovery method to denote the part of your brain pushing you towards your addiction. We call it the Beast because, like a wild, uncontrollable animal, it cares about nothing but fulfilling its need. It is a cunning inner voice, whispering that you need to engage in porn and masturbation to feel satisfied, relieved, or happy. This voice, often referred to as the Addictive Voice (AV), can be quite deceptive. It might paint you a picture of an enticing scene, produce alluring sounds, offer a moment of relief, or even present a false promise of control—"Just be more careful next time."

This beast manipulates you with excuses, deceptive emotions, and outright lies to make you succumb to your addiction. But let's make one thing clear: the beast is not your friend. It's your worst enemy. It's a parasitic entity that has latched onto your life, thriving on your addictive behavior. Like every living thing, it fears its end, and that end comes when you stop feeding the addiction. It has no regard for your well-being, your relationships, your life goals, or your health. Only its survival matters.

As you read through this guide, it's crucial to remain aware of the Beast's interference. Remember, the Beast manifests as a voice in your head or as an emotion, pushing you towards addictive thoughts and actions. You might experience feelings of resistance, discomfort, anger, fear, anxiety, or even a cringe reaction. These are the Beast's attempts to disrupt your progress.

While the Beast can attempt to manipulate your thoughts and emotions, it does not and cannot control your actions. It's your survival instincts that the Beast taps into, but your ability to make decisions, to govern your actions, thoughts, and emotions is uniquely yours.

The Beast may present itself in thoughts like, "This is too difficult to understand," "This won't work for me," or "I'm an exception to this method." Understand that these thoughts are not your own, but the Beast's desperate attempts to maintain control.

In its relentless quest for satisfaction, the beast views everything, including you, as expendable. It's the embodiment of your addiction, caring for nothing but its next fix. It's deaf to reason, blind to consequences, and immune to remorse.

If this description resonates with you, don't panic. You're not 'sick.' It's merely an error of association made by your body - an error in the script, so to speak. It mistakenly believes that this addictive behavior is as vital for your survival as breathing or eating.

Take these moments of resistance as signs that you are on the right track. You're threatening the Beast's existence, and it's trying to fight back. Recognize these voices for what they are, continue moving forward, and know that each step brings you closer to reaffirming your control and freedom from addiction.

[How to Proceed]

Recognition Technique

Let me share an effective exercise, adapted from the Rational Recovery book, that could help you end your porn and masturbation addiction right now.

Start by observing your thoughts and feelings about watching porn or masturbating, both positive and negative. The thoughts and feelings that encourage continued use represent your Addictive Voice (AV), while those advocating for abstinence represent the real you.

When you learn to identify and understand your AV, it becomes an easily defeated foe causing you to indulge. All it craves is pleasure. The main tactic of the Beast is to seize control of the pronoun 'I'. It will try to convince you by saying things like "I want to watch porn" or "I need pornography ".

However, you can effectively counter this strategy. By simply adding a 't' and shifting the 'I' to 'It', you can remind yourself that these thoughts are not truly yours, but are the Beast's manipulations. So the sentences become, "It wants to watch porn" or "It needs pornography ".

By changing "I" to "It", you dissociate from the discomfort or distress. Yes, it's that simple, placing it squarely on the Beast instead of yourself. It's crucial to recognize that these feelings are the Beast's attempts to coerce you back into addiction.

Now, tell yourself, "I will never consume porn or masturbate again", and listen for any negative reactions – this is your AV responding. Conversely, if you think, "I will consume porn or masturbate whenever I please," any pleasant feelings that arise are also your AV asserting control.

This recognition technique dispels short-term desire, making abstinence effortless. Complete separation of 'you' from 'it' results in complete recovery and hope for a better life.

Picture the AVRT technique as a form of gardening. The Addictive Voice is the weed trying to overtake your garden and sapping nutrients from the other plants. Recognizing the weed for what it is and uprooting it preserves your garden's health. Similarly, identifying and acting against your Addictive Voice safeguards a healthy and fulfilling life free from addiction.

Shifting Technique

Shifting is another powerful technique to help you dissociate from the beast of addiction. The idea is to alternate between viewing your addiction from the perspective of the beast and your own.

When viewing addiction through the Beast's eyes, you visualize what it craves the most about the addictive behavior and imagine the associated pleasure for a few minutes. It will express sentiments like "I want this now!" or "Please give it to me!", and you may start to feel the beast getting excited, happy, or impatient.

Then, shift to your perspective and reflect on the pain and negative impact the addiction has on you and those around you. Allow yourself feelings of disgust. Let your own feelings now take over, and you will find that your Beast withdraws and you feel either neutral or put off. This back-and-forth process allows you to dissociate from the Beast.

Think of Shifting as toggling between two TV channels: one projects a seductive yet distorted image of addiction, while the other reveals the harsh reality of its damage.

Introducing the "Big Plan"

The idea of the Big Plan in Rational Recovery is to make a personal commitment to lifelong abstinence from addiction. This commitment, for me, took the form of the decisive statement, "I will never consume porn or masturbate again". It involves pinpointing a day and an hour for your turning point. For me, that was a Sunday at 12am. This moment represents a clear and definitive end to your addictive behavior and the start of a new chapter in your life. You can decide to commit either immediately after going through this post or by specifying your day and hour. It's entirely your choice, and we'll discuss this in more depth later.

Your Power Over the Beast

The Beast, despite its intimidating name, is in fact harmless. It may try to coerce, manipulate, and instill fear, but it is important to remember that it is powerless without your consent. It cannot force you to return to the addictive behavior; only you can make that decision. In fact, you are the main authority, the one in charge, and it's the Beast that fears you.

The Beast is aware of your power and control, and it's terrified of it. It knows that you can shatter its illusions in a snap, without any difficulty. You're the one who makes the call, not the Beast, and it fears your unyielding decision to quit the addiction forever.

Its tactics may often involve fear. It's like the Beast is pointing a gun at you, but the truth is, its gun is empty. It's just a bluff, an illusion. You know it, and the Beast knows it too. It's simply trying to maintain its influence by resorting to fear tactics, but you can see through its lies.

"Don't trust yourself in tempting situations...you're not strong enough yet." – The Beast's voice:

The Beast tries to maintain control by suggesting certain places, events, or people will trigger a relapse. You might hear it whisper, "You can't go to that event, you might relapse," or "Avoid that location, it's too risky." This is simply the Beast's tactic to keep a hold on you, aiming to make you believe you're not completely in control.

By simply recognizing it for what it is - a tactic of the Beast to undermine your confidence - you can dismiss these fear tactics and reaffirm your control.

What if I Lose Control?

The Beast within you is a cunning entity, ever ready to exploit your moments of doubt and vulnerability. It whispers falsehoods, instilling fear and shaking your confidence. But don't be swayed, for you have always held the reins. The Beast may inhabit a corner of your mind, but it lacks the power to control your actions.

Not convinced? Try this: Extend your finger in front of your eyes and move it, then ask the Beast to do the same. The Beast can't because it doesn't hold sway over your physical actions.

The truth is, you've never truly "failed" in your endeavor against addiction. You've always had the choice, and sometimes you've elected to surrender to the Beast's desires. But that doesn't equate to losing control. It merely shows you gave in, momentarily, to the Beast's whisperings.

Expectations

Recovery from addiction isn't about becoming a superhero or uncovering the universe's hidden secrets. It's about realizing that we don't have control over every aspect of life. However, we do have control over our actions, our reactions, and how we choose to face life's unpredictable events.

Do you choose the path of self-discovery and freedom from addiction? Or do you prefer to remain confined by the restrictions that addiction imposes? Be cautious: the Beast may distort your perspective, asking, "Where are the benefits?" or suggesting, "You haven't gained anything," and even instigating impatience by incessantly asking, "How long until I see the benefits?"

But don't fall prey to these distortions. Escaping addiction isn't about immediate gain or fixing all your life's problems. Recovery isn't a magic solution; it's a step towards personal empowerment. It's about gaining freedom and unlocking your potential, not just as a person in recovery, but as an individual capable of resilience and authenticity.

Concentrate on the liberation that breaking free from addiction brings. Let's choose this path towards a life where addiction no longer controls us, allowing us to genuinely live and experience life to its fullest.

Understanding the Real Reason You're Engaging in This

Engaging in this addiction is solely for pleasure and nothing more. Every other justification is a fabrication of the Beast. It's designed to make you believe that giving in to your addiction is the only route to happiness or relief when you're feeling depressed, bored, lonely, stressed, or miserable.

Speaking from personal experience, I used to think that I turned to pornography and masturbation because I was lonely, stressed, or had a rough day. I thought that because I spent my entire day working alone on a computer, my environment or lifestyle was to blame for my addiction. These were excuses, a way to avoid taking responsibility for my actions, guided by the Beast's narrative.

The key to recognizing the Beast is noticing that the conversation always bends towards indulgence in your addiction.

Imagine you're having a tough day, and you begin to feel down. Instead of recognizing this as a passing mood, the Beast seizes this opportunity. It will amplify your negative emotions by saying things like, "You're always unhappy, aren't you? You know what would make you feel better... just one quick session won't hurt." Or, "You're so lonely, this is unbearable. Just indulge, it's your only comfort." These harsh whispers are the Beast's attempts to deepen your feeling of depression and nudge you towards the addictive behavior. Depression doesn't create addiction; addiction does.

The Beast's goal? To make you feel so low that resorting to your addiction seems like the only way out. Conversely, when you're content and joyful, the Beast will persuade you to give in, arguing it will amplify your satisfaction. Just think about it. If you're living what you perceive as a perfect life, the Beast will still argue you could feel even better with pornography and masturbation. It's a never-ending, destructive cycle.

Understanding and Separating Desire

Desire, in its essence, is not a negative emotion; it's a natural human condition. It propels us toward achievement, drives creativity, and gives meaning to our experiences. It also plays a crucial role in our relationships and our sexuality. The key in overcoming addiction is not to extinguish desire altogether, but to discern between healthy desires and those manipulated by the Beast.

Imagine your desires as a beautiful, roaring river. It's full of life, movement, and potential. This river represents your natural, healthy desires - things like connecting with others, pursuing your hobbies, personal growth, and even your sexual desires. These are your desires, part of who you are.

Then, there's the Beast's desire - a poisonous stream trying to merge into your river, attempting to hijack your natural flow. This stream carries the pull of addiction, steering you away from your authentic path, manipulating your thoughts, and distorting your perceptions.

Recognize this poisonous stream and refuse to let it merge with your river. This is not about damming the entire river or stifling your desires, but about rejecting the poisonous stream that the Beast introduces. It's about retaining your authentic desires and letting them guide you.

Identify that any thought associated with the desire to indulge in the addiction is coming from the Beast. By doing so, you begin to differentiate between what you truly want and what the Beast wants. This understanding will empower you, helping you keep your river clean, vibrant, and true to its course.

In the whirlwind of addiction, it can be easy to confuse the Beast's desires with our own. I, too, was lost in this confusion. I believed I was drawn to endless layers of perversion, thinking that I was attracted to the limitless exploration of perversion. But deep down, this wasn't me, it was the Beast's influence, its relentless push for more and more. Upon reflection, I realized my true desire was much simpler and profoundly more meaningful: to love and be loved. To have a wife, to raise children together, to share in the mundane and the magical moments of life. That's my authentic desire, not the empty promises of temporary pleasure the Beast kept pushing. This profound clarity is a stark contrast to the Beast's corruption, a beacon that can guide you back to your true self.

The goal is not to eliminate desire, but to reclaim it, to keep it authentic and personal. Desire is a part of your humanity; it's the Beast's manipulation of it that leads to addiction.

The Myth of Relapse and the Power of Perfection.

The Beast might sometimes whisper, "It's okay to relapse. You'll do better next time." This is a shrewd strategy designed to maintain its hold on you by normalizing relapse as a part of the recovery journey. It uses these tactics to sow seeds of doubt in your mind, aiming to eventually lead you to relapse. Rational Recovery, however, views this differently: the key is making a definitive decision—your Big Plan—to abstain from the addictive behavior and sticking to it under any circumstances.

Human beings are perfectly capable of achieving perfection in certain aspects of life. Consider the professional athlete who plays a perfect game or the musician who delivers a flawless performance. They do so by making a firm commitment to their goal and adhering to it diligently, without allowing any room for mistakes.

Similarly, your recovery journey can be perfect too. Once you make your Big Plan to abstain from addictive behavior, you can stick to it perfectly, without any relapses. This is the ideal that Rational Recovery promotes—not "try, fail, and try again," but "decide and stick to your decision perfectly."

Your Beast wants you to believe that perfection is unachievable, as this gives it room to persuade you to relapse. But don't let it fool you. You have the power to make a perfect decision and stick to it.

What if it's too Difficult or Painful?

Instead of pondering over this, consider a different question: 'For whom is it too painful or difficult?' Any discomfort or difficulty associated with ceasing the addiction stems from the Beast, not you. Observing the Beast's distress is a positive sign - it shows you're successfully dissociating from it.

Remember that humans can only fully experience one feeling at a time. When you start feeling discomfort from abstaining, it's crucial to recognize that this isn't your discomfort. It's the Beast that suffering. The Beast is protesting because it's not getting what it wants. This suffering isn't negative for you; in fact, it's a positive sign. It means you're successfully asserting control over your decisions, as the Beast's discomfort indicates that it's losing its influence over you.

Most importantly, remember: you are safe. You risk nothing by quitting this addiction. Every feeling of discomfort or fear is from the Beast, not you. Your well-being and safety are never in jeopardy by choosing to stop. By rejecting the Beast's influence and asserting your control, you reclaim your freedom from addiction.

How would I know what I will do in the future?

While predicting your future actions may be impossible, you can certainly define what you would never do. Consider the activities that you find disturbing, unhealthy, and reprehensible - those that you would never engage in.

Now, add porn and masturbation addiction to that list. As you do this, pay attention to your Beast. It might try to concoct far-fetched scenarios that seem to justify succumbing to the addiction. Recognize these for what they are: desperate attempts by the Beast to manipulate your thoughts. By doing so, you can effectively disregard its interference and remain true to your values.

I'm scared to relapse, what should I do?

Relapse anxiety is a common pitfall many encounter on their NoFap journey. You may be confidently progressing, then suddenly a thought creeps in: "What if I relapse tomorrow?" This thought triggers anxiety, shaking your belief in your commitment.

From the Rational Recovery standpoint, relapse anxiety is the Beast's deceptive voice trying to manipulate you. It incites fear and uncertainty, making you feel as if relapse is imminent. The Beast attempts to shake your confidence and sense of control. But here's the truth: relapse anxiety is an illusion, a tactic used by the Beast to tighten its grip.

Combat this by distancing yourself from the Beast and recognizing that relapse anxiety is a deceptive tactic used by the Beast to instill fear and weaken your resolve. Remember, you risk nothing by quitting this addiction; you are safe. Any discomfort you experience stems from the Beast, not you.

Reiterate your Big Plan: "I will never consume porn or masturbate again." By affirming your decision and distancing yourself from the Beast's influence, you can dispel the anxiety and stay firmly on your path. Remember, you are in control, and you will always stay in control, the fears conjured by the Beast hold no sway over you.

The Beast's Attack on the Dreamscape

The Beast's intrusion into your dreams should not be a source of fear. This isn't a situation that requires extensive concern, this is just a sign of the Beast's distress.

There are generally two types of dreams where the Beast tries to assert its influence. The first type are explicit sex dreams, designed to reignite the desires and cravings associated with your addiction. The second type are dreams where you see yourself relapsing, which can be distressing and seem all too real.

When your neocortex (the real you) goes to sleep, the Beast sees an opportunity to attack and tries to regain influence over you through these dreams. This is evidence that you are on the right track. Your progress towards your goal of freedom from addiction is causing this panicked response from the Beast.

Remember, no matter what happens in your dreams, you are in control in reality. These dreams are just dreams, and they do not have the power to make you do anything.

Understanding 'Blue Balls' and Nocturnal Emissions in Recovery

Experiencing discomfort or an aching in the testicles, often referred to as 'blue balls,' is something that some individuals might encounter during their decision to quit their porn and masturbation addiction. Similarly, you may also experience nocturnal emissions or 'wet dreams' during your journey to recovery.

These phenomena aren't signs of harm, danger, or relapse, but rather physical manifestations of your body adjusting to your firm decision to quit the addiction.

While your body is adapting to a new, healthier state, not reliant on constant sexual stimulation, the Beast might attempt to distort these occurrences into negative experiences. It might tell you that nocturnal emissions are relapses, causing unwarranted fear and anxiety. But remember, you're in control.

Consider these sensations and events as physical signs of your transformation, a testament to the changes happening within you. It's important to remember that not everyone experiences this, and even if you do, it's not something to be overly concerned about. These adjustments are something you are more than capable of handling. As your body adjusts to your new lifestyle, such events will likely decrease and eventually stop. Don't let the Beast use these natural bodily responses as a scare tactic.

Gradual Reduction: A Beast's Strategy

In your journey of breaking free from addiction, you might be tempted to adopt a "gradual reduction" approach - cutting back little by little rather than quitting outright. This strategy, while seemingly logical, is often a ploy from the Beast, setting you up for failure.

During my own journey, for many months, I was enticed by the concept of gradually reducing my addictive behaviors. The approach felt less abrupt, seemingly offering a smoother transition. Even the Beast within me suggested compromises such as, "Let's start by indulging only in the afternoon," or "How about we limit it to weekends?".However, I discovered through experience that this gradual reduction strategy often creates more problems than it resolves. Let me tell you why.

Firstly, by not making a clean break, you're continually feeding the addiction, keeping the Beast alive and active. It's akin to trying to put out a fire while still pouring small amounts of gasoline on it - it keeps the flames going, never fully extinguishing the fire.

Secondly, when you set specific times or days for indulging, you're not freeing your mind from the addiction; instead, you're refocusing it. You find yourself constantly counting down the hours or days until your next 'allowed' session. This fixation lead to a persistent preoccupation with the addiction, turning the process into something torturous and counterproductive.

Lastly, even on the days where you've decided not to indulge, the Beast is still at work. It doesn't take breaks. It try to convince you to deviate from your plan, asserting things like, "You're going to do it in a couple of days anyway, so why not just do it today? Why wait?" This becomes a recurring battle with the Beast, undermining your resolve.

The gradual reduction method keeps the addiction in focus, maintains the Beast's influence, and undermines your resolve. It's far more effective to make a clean break and assert your decision to quit outright. Remember, you're not losing anything by quitting - you're freeing yourself from the Beast's control.

Counting Days

Why should you spend energy on counting days for an activity you've resolved never to engage in? The Beast excels at setting goals and then weaponizing them against us.

Here's how the Beast use day counting against you:

Making a big deal of milestones: The Beast lead you to focus excessively on reaching a certain number of days, weeks, or months. While milestones can be motivational, the Beast use them to create unnecessary stress and pressure, saying things like "What if you don't make it?" or "Imagine how bad it would feel to start over."

Justifying a lapse: "You've made it 100 days, you deserve a reward!" or "One slip after so many days won't hurt." The Beast use the number of days as an excuse to suggest that it would be "safe" or "earned" to indulge in the addictive behavior.

Creating a false sense of security: The Beast suggest that after a certain number of days without indulging in the addiction, you're "cured" and could safely return to the behavior without becoming addicted again.

Undermining early progress: In the initial stages, the Beast belittle the small number of days you've been free from the addiction, making statements like "You've only managed two days, you'll never make it a week."

Leveraging bad days: If you're having a tough day, the Beast say, "You're miserable even after 30 days clean. See, quitting doesn't make things better. Might as well go back."

Remember, these are all tricks of the Beast trying to manipulate you into returning to the addictive behavior. The Beast will use anything, including the count of days, to try to get what it wants. The best way to deal with this is to remain steadfast in your decision and continue dissociating from the Beast.

So, instead of getting trapped in the Beast's game of counting days, surrender this act to it. We can concentrate on the broader scope - liberating ourselves from the Beast's clutches, embracing enduring change, and regaining our freedom. Day counting becomes insignificant because it no longer illustrates our path. Our chosen journey is one where the Beast's urges hold no power, and our authentic liberation takes the limelight. Let the Beast obsess over counting days, while we commit to a life of emancipation and self-discovery.

Why Punishment Doesn't Work

Self-punishment is a common response to addiction, yet it often proves ineffective. This can take many forms, from physical discomfort to emotional torment. In my own battle against addiction, I tried various self-punishment strategies. On the physical side, I would resort to self-harm. Emotionally, I burdened myself with negative self-talk, depression, feelings of hopelessness, anger, sadness, and even thoughts of death. It's important to note, however, that these intense feelings of guilt and self-condemnation were amplified by the Beast. The Beast utilizes such negative emotions to paint addiction as the only respite, the only 'good thing' left in life. It is a manipulative trick to keep you chained to the addiction.

Yet, over time, these painful memories have faded, while the seductive pull of the addictive behavior has remained vivid in my mind. It's a compelling illustration of the human condition: we often forget pain and remember pleasure.

Consider individuals who struggle with drug addiction. They might end up in a hospital after an overdose, experiencing immense physical pain. But as time passes, the memory of this pain dissipates, while the allure of the drug, the pleasure it brought, remains clear and tempting. This imbalance often leads them back into the cycle of addiction.

This became evident to me during the last week leading up to my final decision to quit - my Big Plan. It was the most challenging week of my life; I was counting the days until my liberation. Now that I'm free, when I think back to that week, the Beast tries to rewrite the narrative, calling it the "best week of all time!"

This disparity between the memory of pain and pleasure underscores why self-punishment is an ineffective strategy for long-term addiction recovery. Rational Recovery offers a different approach. Rather than relying on the fleeting memory of pain, it focuses on recognizing and dissociating from the addictive voice—the Beast.

Arguing with the beast

Let's clarify something: arguing with the Beast is futile. The Beast is single-minded, craving only the satisfaction of its addiction. Moreover, it's cunning, capable of playing both sides of an argument.

For instance, the Beast might implant thoughts such as, "You could indulge now, it's not a big deal." Then, to create confusion and feign agreement, it might echo that very idea, saying, "Yes, I could indulge now." It's essential to recognize that both these sentiments are from the Beast. It is a clear demonstration of how it can promote the idea of indulgence while also pretending to be 'you' to create an illusion of consent.

In the Rational Recovery technique, every thought or feeling associated with the indulgence in the addiction is identified as coming from the Beast, including its attempts to take possession of the pronoun "I".

You are the decision-maker here, you are in control. Your will is what truly matters, and the Beast must inevitably conform to your decisions.

Dealing with White-Knuckling and Intense Urges

Feeling urges, cravings, or hunger sensations is a natural part of the recovery journey. In fact, it's a positive sign, an indication that you are making progress. However, these feelings can turn into white-knuckling when you identify with the Beast's thoughts and feelings. When you start saying things like "I'm so horny" or "I need a relief ASAP," you're identifying with the beast voice. When you find yourself arguing with the Beast or doubting your decision to quit, you're in the grip of white-knuckling.

In my own journey to recovery, I experienced these urges, cravings, and sensations. But rather than identifying with them and turning them into a struggle, I recognized them as signs of the Beast's distress, not mine. It was the Beast who was desperate and frustrated, not me. This recognition made these moments not just bearable but even satisfying, as they signaled that I was on the right track in my recovery.

The power of these urges and cravings diminished with my Big Plan, my absolute decision to never indulge in the addictive behavior again. Even if you find yourself in a white-knuckling situation, remember that you can shift your perspective. Recognize that every thought encouraging the addictive behavior is coming from the Beast, and use the Recognition or Shifting techniques to help you dissociate from these thoughts and feelings. After that, reaffirm your Big Plan, stating firmly and clearly, "I will never consume porn or masturbate again." This firm commitment to your Big Plan will dispel all doubt, releasing you from the grip of white-knuckling.

The Big Plan: Your Commitment to Freedom

Taking a firm decision is a critical step in overcoming addiction, and this is what making a Big Plan entails. This plan is a complete commitment, devoid of room for negotiation or compromise. When you formulate a Big Plan, you're making a promise to yourself to never indulge in your addiction again, under any circumstances.

Choosing a specific day for your Big Plan can help add a sense of occasion and finality to your decision. For instance, I personally chose a Sunday at 12am. Your Beast will likely agree to this arrangement, looking forward to a "last hurrah."

But as you approach your chosen day to initiate your Big Plan, the Beast may start getting anxious. It may whisper, "I can't let this go!" or "Let's postpone the Big Plan, and enjoy this for now!" This is not your voice. It's the voice of the Beast, trying to make you delay your decision and panicking at the impending loss of its control.

Your declaration for the Big Plan could be: "I will never consume porn or masturbate again." This phrase embodies the essence of the Big Plan — a firm, unyielding decision that signifies your commitment to stay addiction-free.

In your journey to overcome addiction, the video I am about to share will be invaluable. It features Jack Trimpey, the founder of Rational Recovery, directly guiding you through the process of making a Big Plan. Although Trimpey focuses on alcohol and drug addiction in the video, his guidance applies to any addiction, including pornography and masturbation. Carefully absorb his words, understanding their relevance to your personal struggle.

watch this video, skip to 33:39 for the Big Plan section: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_n2YH8RLd_4&list=PLazOJVze5_z3BdcDSF3uPtN8Vu9VDqVJl&index=3where

Conclusion

I've spent a month compiling my experiences and sharing the tools that aided me on my journey. You are free to ask questions while I'm around, but please note that I'm not a regular Reddit user and won't be able to answer indefinitely. For those interested in Rational Recovery, all the information you need is in the "Useful Resources" section. If you found this post helpful, please consider upvoting or sharing it with friends who might benefit from it. Always remember to dissociate from the Beast and stand firm in your Big Plan. Holding unwavering trust in your decision is the key to defeating the Beast. May you embrace your journey to freedom and experience the liberation you've been longing for. Thank you for taking the time to read my post.

Useful Resources

Rational Recovery Book : https://www.amazon.fRational-Recovery-Cure-Substance-Addiction/dp/0671528580/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=rational+recovery&sr=8-1
AVRT Demonstration (AVRT Live Vol 1-5) : https://www.youtube.com/@DeborahSpringborn/videos

The Order of Prince Yaroslav the Wise, fifth class, is the highest rank a Ukrainian foreign national can achieve. Its newest inductee is back home in Florida and has been in the shower so long he’s lost track of time. His feel for the present moment will return in about thirty seconds when the hot water runs out. His hair has been both shampooed and conditioned. His body throughly soaped. It’s the shower’s warm solitude he cannot leave. There is plenty to do today; an interview at a radio station at eleven, lunch with his sponsor, an early dinner at his mom’s pastor’s. All of them want to know more about his experience overseas, they want to know how the war is progressing, they want to hear how he went from Highland Hills High School to war hero. What they don’t want to hear, what David does not want to hear, is how cold his new found notoriety makes him feel. Before can explore his melancholy any further, the hot water goes. The steam rising above the shower clears as a lukewarm solution rinses the remaining soap and warmth off David’s body. He remembers taking similarly cold showers in Ukraine, and how happy he was to have them. It’s shocking how clean a man can get with a half full bucket of water and a couple of towels.
“Ah look at Abie! Clean enough for a Russian bitch.” says Bone in his thick provincial accent. Words David can’t remember Bone actually saying or they only sound like something he would say. Sitting around waiting for mechanics, waiting on orders, waiting on food, waiting on the Russians to start shooting, David didn’t know war could be so boring. The only thing Bone said he liked more than killing Russians was fucking them. The rest of the guys in the platoon knew Bone was probably lying, but he was their instructor, and they were the international volunteers, so he was never questioned. He was the only person in their platoon who spoke Russian and Ukrainian and English. One guy, this kid from Belgium, called Bone a cunt after failing to pull the pen on a grenade during a training exercise, and Bone gave it to him.
“What is this? You do not have to pull pens in Belgium? Or do you like to give your enemies the grenade so they can throw it back?” said Bone. He then effeminately ran around the kid saying, “Here Mr. German. Take my grenade. They are loud and I am afraid.” Bone comes back to his real voice. “Killing Russians is no different than driving a truck. It is your job. Don’t think. Don’t be like this Belgian. Pull the pin. Kill Russians.” The Belgian kid said something to Bone but no one knew what it was because no one spoke French. This didn’t stop Bone from hitting him in the face so hard it broke his nose. The kid quit later that day, and Bone got written up which David told him is like a kid being put in timeout during a house invasion.
“What is this time out?” Bone asked.
The water is cold so David gets out. In the kitchen his mother goes over the day’s itinerary again, just to be thorough she adds.
“Do you know where you are going David? No, sorry. Do you know where you are going Abie?” she asks as David grabs a breakfast banana.
“Yes ma’am.”
“You know parking can be difficult downtown. Be sure to take quarters for the meter.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And be sure to be yourself. I hope they are nice to you. You know how the media likes to spin things these days. I don’t think they are too liberal but don’t let them put words in your mouth. If they ask you something you don’t want to answer, you just say ‘No comment'. You just tell your story. You are a hero. And then you’ll meet with Fred, and then dinner at Pastor's. Be there at four. If it’s ok with you I’m going to bring the medal. Pastor will want to see it. He’s a big fan of Zelensky.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Ok. Enough doting. That’s all you’re getting out to me today. Are you excited? Isn’t this exciting? News Radio 950 is doing a story about you. They want to hear about their local war hero…and that’s you. Give me a hug and get going before you are late.”
“Yes ma’am.”
In his car, David listens to Domination by Pantera at full volume. The heavy riffs, screaming and terrifying drums raise his spirit. Bone used to play it all the time. David hasn’t prepared anything for save his memory of his time in Ukraine. Perhaps Bone is giving an interview somewhere? You didn’t do anything wrong, he tells himself as he opens the station’s door. Inside he finds an attractive, young woman named Sara who has been emailing him for the past several weeks.
“Nice to officially meet. Right this way.”
David does his best not to stare at her as she leads him through corridor of offices and hallways.
“She looks nice. Go into an office with her.” says Bone.
“We’ve all been looking forward to having a more in-depth conversation with you. Our programming producer, who is also named David, will be asking you most of the questions. But I begged him to let me ask some too, so you might say I will also be interviewing you. I hope that’s ok?”
Sara’s blonde hair folds into a neat part on the left side of her head. David pictures her styling it in her bathroom, in a bathrobe. It’s been a while since he has smelled perfume. He found a bottle in an abandoned apartment in Zaporizhzhia and kept it. It had some Chinese lettering he couldn’t read, but it smelt nice. Some of the guys teased him when they found it saying he was going to attract Russian because he smelt like an Asian. Sara’s perfume smells expensive and French. She introduces him to David the producer and the three of them find three seats on the end of a conference room table. Sara sits on the same side as David. After introductions, David starts the interview by saying even though he is not sure exactly when the piece will air, he is certain it will before the end of the month. He then adds something about how David is a hero for doing what he did.
“So tell us how you found yourself in Ukraine?”
“Well it was pretty easy really. I went online and volunteered for the IVB, that was the name of my unit, the International Volunteer Brigade. I don’t think I talked to a real person until I booked my flight to Poland. It was mostly just forms I was filling out online. So yeah it was pretty easy. So I landed in Krakow and my recruiter picked me up. I stayed in a hotel for a few days while we waited on a couple more guys to show up. One was from Spain, another from Portugal. The Portuguese guy never showed, or if he did he didn’t come with us. I guess he could have volunteered with another outfit. I guess that’s the thing about the war I didn’t really expect. We were always just kinda losing people. And I don’t mean they were killed, although a lot of them were. I mean guys would just be with you one minute and gone the next. And then you’d find them a week later and I go, ‘Where have you been?’ ‘Oh I’ve been in Dnipro’ or ‘Oh I got picked up by the Regs.’ It was crazy. The only place where that didn’t happen was the front.”
“Who do you mean by ‘the Regs?’” asks David.
“The regular army. The Ukrainians. The good guys we were there to help. Sometimes they would be short a man so they’d just nab one of the volunteers. That was a bad gig. The Ukrainians wanted their most motivated guys fighting in the worst places. I only had to do it a couple of times, but…it was not something I did and wanted to do again. ”
David rubs his hand over his arm. He can’t smell the hot blonde anymore, only trench dirt and gun oil. The soil of Donetsk had a deep brown color to it he always enjoyed. Even with snipers supposedly in the area, digging was one of his favorite jobs. The earth smelled vibrant, full of worms and nitrogen and reminded him of his granddad, coming in from a day of field work, his jeans and boots caked in a rich layer of his land.
“So tell us what is it like being a hometown celebrity?” asks Sara. “You’re from here so people already know you, but what’s it like now? I mean now, gosh, everyone i know has been talking about this kid from Highland who won a medal from Zelensky. Did you get to bring it by the way? You were on the national news. It was NBC, but still…”
A bouquet of scents and questions. David looks across the room and sees Bone sitting with a heavy slouch in a chair at the other end of the conference table. He looks rough; still alive but not by much. He sits holding his side, his chin on his chest.
“It’s neat I guess. I walk down the street and people call my name. I take lots of pictures with people. Everyone is really nice. I felt like I was kinda a wallflower before.It’s something I think lots of people think about experiencing. I know I did, I just never thought it would be for this.”
“What did you want to be when you were a boy?” asks Sara.
“I don’t know. The normal stuff; doctor, fireman, my Dad was in sales, so not that. I think about it a lot. I think mostly I just wanted to be good. I didn’t like getting into trouble.”
“Oh my gosh, I was the exact same.” says Sara. Then durning her boss she adds “David, I don’t know if you knew this about me and this David, but we actually went to Highland High at the same time. I was a senior when you would have been a freshman, but I swear I remember you. I thought you were cute.”
“Don’t be trying to steal my assistant Dave. Can I call you Dave?”
“David’s fine.”
Bone perks up and tells them to call him Abie
“Ok so let’s get back on track. You’re over there, you’re fighting Russians, you’re helping the Ukrainians, can you tell us, what was that like?”
“What is war like?”
“Yeah the war, but you’re doing a good thing. You volunteered to help an oppressed people, to fight against tyranny, something I think our listeners think our government should have done a long time ago. But while our President sits on his ass, you bravely go do the thing that needs be done. God it must have been exhilarating, but I don’t know, I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”
Bone lays his head back on the desk and says something David can’t quite make out but thinks he knows what his commander is saying.
“Meta.”
“What?” asks David.
“It’s a Ukrainian word I learned while over there. It means purpose, but more than just doing a job, it’s your calling. It’s a word the priests with the beards use a lot. Everyday I knew exactly what was expected of me and what I could expect from everyone around me. I had clarity for the first time in my life. I felt like I could see for miles in every direction, like sitting on the roof watching all the cars going by.”
Bone stands up out of his chair and walks out of the office.
“Even when I was scared I knew that was to be expected. And when I was tired, I knew that too was to be expected. And when I was hungry, and wet, and cold, and angry enough to kill. I knew that too was to be expected because war is a cauldron. Everything gets boiled into a singularity. It’s terrifying but also pretty damn motivating. What sucks is that I can already feel everything starting to get cloudy again.”
Leaning his belly against the table, David leans in to ask his next question as if he does not want to be heard.
“Did you, you know…and this will be off the record…did you kill anyone else?”
Sara places her empty hand on the table, an offering for David to hold should his answer prove too much. But David knows the answer is not too much for his has thought of little else.
“Nope. Just the one.”
After another few minutes of hearing how brave he has been, how proud his family must be and how grateful the station is to have him come in, the interview is over. The producer shakes David’s hand and Sara walks him out. She mentions that friends of her’s are going to a new bar in the Depot and suggests David should come too. He says he can come but it will be late because he has dinner plans. “That’s ok. I’ll be there pretty late.”
—————————
Only a few blocks from the radio station, David pulls into a Waffle House parking lot. There is condensation on the windows of the building and cigarette butts near the door. Nothing here breathes well, David notes. Inside he finds his old sponsor sitting at booth by himself. David sees Fred before Fred sees him and for a moment considers leaving. However, he sees Bone sits in the corner of the restaurant, smiling and looking to flirt with a chubby waitress with grown sons.
“How the hell are you Abie?” says Fred. No turning back now.
“Sober for today.”
“Me too.”
The pair order eggs, toast and bacon. The cook makes each of them a waffle on the house after recognizing David. He finishes his plate before Fred can finish a piece of toast. Meals happen quick on the battlefield and David can’t seem to slow himself down long to enjoy his food. Bone is no longer in the corner. David sees him moving around the room; following an old lady into the restroom. He comes out with a grotesque look on his face. “That little woman took the biggest shit I’ve ever seen! Abie, come and look at it. It won’t flush. Call in a drone strike. We are going to have to pull back!”
“So” says Fred, “Mr. War Hero, how are you really? You’ve got recognition, a war recommendation, you’re doing interviews, you still got your sobriety. Life seems to be going well, but…”
“How I am really?” When he was in NA Fred could always sniff out if he was high. As his sponsor that was his job, but David never liked it. I know you say you’re fine, but how are your really. Effective, but crude. Fred taps his finger to the tip of his nose. Bingo kid. David looks around the room for Bone but doesn’t find him.
“I’m good man. Things are going well. Everyone always asks me how I’m doing, but I’m really fine. I honestly don’t feel much different than when I left. Same shit different day you know? Girls come up to me now, so that’s different I guess. So…yeah…things are good. Still sober. No real temptation to go back down that road. Been working the Steps since I got back. Doing the work. I didn’t even think about getting high when I was over there. I’m serious. Not once. I’ve got a therapist that I’m seeing. She’s really smart. And I get to see her for free. It’s part of some rehabilitation program from the federal government. I’m moving out of my Mom’s soon. I found an apartment through the church she goes to. There is a guy there who owns a bunch of places and he hooked me up with a really nice place for really cheap. He gave us a really good deal on it. The same guy said I could come work for him too when I felt I was ready. He has a real estate business and said he is always looking for new realtors. With my story, he told me, he thinks I could to really well.”
Bone sits in the booth next to Fred. His face his clean, empty. Without blinking, moving or saying anything he stares at David; human mirror he is unsure is alive or dead, in a Waffle House in Florida or an expensive dirty tank in Ukraine.
“But then I think, do I really wanna use my story to sell real estate? Some douchebag buys an apartment I’m selling him because I killed a Russian general. That’s not why I went over there. And who would even ask me to that? They don’t know what it was like. They make it seem like going over there was no big deal, that killing generals is something that happens all the time, or that the war is going well. Really man, I got so lucky with that shot. I’ve had trained snipers tell me they probably couldn’t hit a target at that range. But I did. I did that and I know I could never do it again. Even if I could, I don’t know if I’d want to. I didn’t know that guy. I mean I now know a bunch of stuff about him, but it’s only what I’ve been told. They told me that he supported Putin from the beginning and that a lot of the war planning was his idea. Ok. If you say so Bone. But I looked this guy up, he has a wikipedia page, and a wife, and kids, probably grandkids. I don’t know if his family is proud of him or not, but I know they will never see him again. And then just the charade of it all. So I got to meet the Ukrainian War Minister, Zelensky’s right hand man. Still not worth it. There’s just nothing noble or romantic about it. It’s all just a cold, black hole that runs on death and killing and for some reason you have to look at it…at least I do. I suppose I thought at some point I would see something. Never did though.”
Bone breaks his stare and cracks a smile.
“And for who, for what Fred? What is going to happen when all of this is over other than the same thing that happens after every war. A cabal of erudite assholes are going to meet in an overly secure room in the Netherlands and draw a new line in between Ukraine and Russia which is exactly what those same assholes did seventy years ago, and seventy years before that, and in seventy years we’ll do the same thing all over again. Wash, rinse and repeat. That line makes about as much sense as the first day of Spring. Sure, there is an official first day of Spring, March 20th or whatever, but we all know that there was some really warm days before the 20th and there is going to be some real cold days afterwards. But the 20th is the official day. It doesn’t make Spring happen. It just kinda helps sense out of a blurry situation. It wasn’t two days after getting there I realized the whole thing is so complicated. Half the regs were guys who had either lived in Russia at some point, gone to school there mostly, or had family living there. It felt like trying to break up a fight at a family reunion, only everyone is holding ARs as they argue about whether or not the 20th is the first day of Spring. The conflict goes back so far you can’t make out the start. And the profiteering my god, that’s what really gets me. Just like that asshole who wants to use the war to sell real estate, all the arms manufacturers who are pouring guns and bullets and tanks into Ukraine, propping this war machine so they can win another government contract. It’s sick. The people running those companies have the first available seat in hell. And Putin too. He started this whole mess. First him, then a nice row of CEOs and shareholders, that’s who I want to in hell. And there is never talk of any alternative. None. Not even a whisper. Just two sides trying to exhaust the other for a better seat at the bargaining table.”
Bone gets up to leave, but not before stretching his back, revealing a large, dark red stain in his uniform, just above his waist line.
“So here I am in all my hometown glory.” says David, “The renown Prince of the Order of the Ukrainian Shit-Show.”
There is a wet spot on David’s pants which he is not sure how it got there. He looks at Bone who is already out the door and running down the street. It’s ok, David thinks to himself, I know where he is going. ———————————————— At the 7-11 next to Waffle House David buys two tall boys and two shots of Jack. He pours the whiskey into the cans and kills the second one as he pulls into Pastor’s driveway where several Mercedes, Teslas and BMWs are parked. David clears his throat, spits into the bushes and unwraps a stick of gum. He enters the house after two hard knocks.
“Oh I think that is him.” David hears his mom say after shutting the large, dark front door. She comes around the corner of the corridor to tell him he is late and to take his shoes off.
“But my socks don’t match.”
“Well take those off too! Pastor just put down new carpet.”
“Ah well, since there is new carpet involved. Let’s not walk on the new carpet.”
The rest of the dinner party comes around the corridor in their socks. Each of them personally thanks David for coming and for his service. The men shake his hand. The women all give him hugs. By the end of introductions David has met two bankers, two retirees, and handful of housewives, as well as two more pastors and their wives. Bone is the last to shake his hand. He tells Abie he smells like old lady perfume. Elenor, Pastor’s wife, takes David’s arm, sliding her’s underneath his, leading him into their recently renovated kitchen. The rest of the group follows.
“Well dinner is almost ready. As we wait, why don’t you tell us about Ukraine.”
“Leave him alone Ellie,” says Pastor, “maybe he’s tired of talking about it.”
“I don’t mind.” says Abie. “I don’t mind telling people about blowing some Russian guy’s head off.”
“David Absalom!”
“It’s ok Mom. Yeah so I saw this column of tanks approaching our trench, which ran parallel to this road running west outta Horlivka. I don’t think they knew it was there, or if they did know, they sure as shit didn’t know we were in it, which was weird because we’d been trading fire with them all day. We were all scared shitless. It was only me and Jizzy and Bone. Right Bone? Oh yeah, it wasn’t Jizz it was that kid from Croatia. The one who fucking just ran off one day. I don’t remember his name. Anyways, Bone tells us to all be real still, play like we are dead. So this entire tank column passes by us. Takes for fucking ever. Couldn’t have been more than an hour, but it felt like ten. Finally it starts to let up you know, the last tank passes. So Bone takes the radio and tries to find a spot to call it in. As he is doing that I see the last tank, which was what Bone, about four hundred yards from us? Anyway, he comes to a stop, and out pops the unluckiest son of bitch in the whole war. The General gets out to take a piss, I take aim, figuring I’ll just scare him. And yeah. Bam. Headshot. He didn’t feel a thing; killed him with his dick in his hand. Speaking of which…if you will excuse me.”
“The bathroom is back down the hallway, first door on your left.” says Pastor.
“Is it a full bath?” ask Abie.
“Three-quarter.”
“Close enough.”
No one looks him in the eye, no one except Bone and Pastor. The bathroom has been redone in the same tile as the kitchen. David takes off his clothes, turns the steel knob in the shower to red, sits one floor and waits for the water to get warm.

Death layer chickens

Health, husbandry, and training of all Birds.

World & Scope

Main challenges

Secondary challenges

Wildlife

Lore

Story delivery

Mechanics

User interaction

Design, Art & Tech

MIR MUL NIR

NA HAG LIIV

VIIN TUR UTH

VUL JOT NAAK

Region is NA

Region is NA

What is AVRT?

What is the "beast"?

Recognition Technique

Shifting Technique

Introducing the "Big Plan"

Your Power Over the Beast

What if I Lose Control?

Expectations

Understanding the Real Reason You're Engaging in This

Understanding and Separating Desire

The Myth of Relapse and the Power of Perfection.

What if it's too Difficult or Painful?

How would I know what I will do in the future?

I'm scared to relapse, what should I do?

The Beast's Attack on the Dreamscape

Understanding 'Blue Balls' and Nocturnal Emissions in Recovery

Gradual Reduction: A Beast's Strategy

Counting Days

Why Punishment Doesn't Work

Arguing with the beast

Dealing with White-Knuckling and Intense Urges

The Big Plan: Your Commitment to Freedom

Conclusion

Useful Resources