I invented some of these, and took others from FA. My system:

• Anything death-related = "Graves" disease.
  
• John F. Kennedy = Addison's disease (he had it).
  
• Japan = Hashimoto's.
  
• Sweet = DM1
  
• Wolves = lupus
  

HLA
BAIT: "Fatal" Attraction for Many Guys
HLA-B8: Graves, Addison's, Myasthenia gravis
Three Sweet Japanese Wolves Buried Kennedy"
HLA-DR3: DM1, Hashimoto's, SLE, Graves, Addison's
Dr. Hashimoto Perniciously DRIVEs drunk
HLA-DR5: Pernicious anemia, Hashimoto's
("Drunk" to remind you that pernicious anemia is about B12 ... I tried.)
DiRTy Hay Pastures have Multiple Wolves
HLA-DR2: Hay fever, Goodpasture syndrome, MS, SLE
Be PAIRed By 27.
HLA-B27: Psoriatic arthritis, Ankylosing spondylitis, IBD arthritis, Reactive arthritis
(If this makes you feel negative, that's good, because these arthritides are seronegative.)
I "8" "2" much gluten at Dairy Queen
HLA-DQ2 and DQ8 = celiac disease
2 and 3, S-L-E
HLA-DR2 & DR3 cause SLE
Sweet John's ROOM has 4 walls
HLA-DR4: DM1, Addison's, RA
Cancer
Some ALKoholics "gain" Awful Lung Kancer
Gain of function in ALK causes lung adenocarcinoma (alcohol isn't tobacco, and adenocarcinoma is the LC that nonsmokers get)
Cool and Dry Harry Bean
Cladribine is for hairy cell leukemia
Harry TRAPped 11 Carnivorous Dinosaurs. Cool!
Hairy cell leukemia expresses TRAP-CD11c.
Prostate, Titties, ENdometrium
PTEN is a tumor suppressor a/w prostate, breast, and endometrial cancer (if you wanna remember suppressor, just remember that you're supposed to keep these body parts covered)
The prostate builds my "bone"r
Prostate is the only cancer with all-osteoblastic mets
Thalamic structures
Musical Genius
Medial Geniculate nucleus = auditory
Let's Gaze at that Body There!
Lateral Geniculate Body of the Thalamus = visual
Mmmm! Dat memory!
MedioDorsal nucleus = smell-memory association
Misc
Ted Cruz is a toxic megacolon with a big mouth
T. cruzi (Chagas disease) = toxic megacolon, megaesophagus
Antivaxxers make NEGATIVE SENSE
Measles is a negative-sense RNA virus.
Ew! Rats!
"Eu"volemic hyponatremia: RTA, Addison's disease, Thyroid disorders, SIADH
Calcified MegaloVentricles
CMV causes periventricular calcifications and ventriculomegaly
Prader, Paternal Problem
In Prader-Willi syndrome, the paternal allele is mutated
Everyone, feel free to add your own!

If there was one thing Soliloquy hated? She really hated being proven wrong. She knew she couldn't be right about everything but she HATED being 100% sure she was wrong. It made her look stupid and stupid was something Soliloquy most certainly was not.
She wasn't like the other kids. Mama said that was okay. We weren't meant to be like everyone else. What makes us different also makes us special. Soliloquy believed it because there's no way Mama would lie to her.
Mama was so smart. She'd picked up on all of the little things Soliloquy did as a baby and, then, a toddler. Mama knew Soliloquy was such a "special" girl. Only she truly believed in Soliloquy. She'd never known her Daddy. Mama didn't care for talking about him too much. From what little Mama did say about him? It's probably better off that way.
She'd been so little when the first incident happened. Mama knew for certain then. There'd been no doubt left in Mama's mind. Mama had been busy and didn't get Soliloquy's bottle warmed up for her in a timely fashion. She was just a baby and had no way of controlling her anger. It wasn't poor Mama's fault, either. She had her hands full being a single mother. It just exploded. Mama said that it scared her so! She was grateful she hadn't been close to the microwave because the glass went everywhere. Mama knew from that day that she could never be late with Soliloquy's bottle ever again.
Now? This turdy boy thinks a tomato is a fruit?! Why would he think that?! EVERYONE knows tomatoes are vegetables!
"Dummy! I'm trying to tell you! If you weren't so freaking poor? Maybe you could afford a cell phone and Google it, Stupid!" Grover Dill was not a nice, cute, clean nor smart boy. All he was to Soliloquy was trouble and headaches. He'd bullied her every since kindergarten and he hadn't let up one day from then until now. He hasn't even slowed down in the 6th grade. Mama always tried to talk Soliloquy down when he tormented her so. She really hoped she made it home this time so Mama could do it, again. Soliloquy knew if she had another "spell"? Mama would be so disappointed. Please, please, please, let her make it back home, again.
"At least I'm not named after a Sesame Street muppet!" Soliloquy could feel tears sting her eyes.
"And your name means you talk to yourself!" Grover just had to say something. He couldn't just let it go.
She was walking away. She was trying so hard. It was happening, though. She wasn't getting flushed. She was getting HOT!
"GROVER CLAUDE DILL! DON'T SAY NOTHIN' ELSE TO ME!" Soliloquy was burning up.
"NOTHIN', WHITE TRASH!" Grover was cackling and Soliloquy was coming unglued.
She kept trying to distract herself. It wasn't helping. Where would it go this time? What would it mean? She should "put it" somewhere. But put it where?
"Back off! Calm down!" Soliloquy shut her eyes and kept repeating the 2 phrases, over and over, more to herself than anyone. Something was cracking, splitting, something was breaking!
Soliloquy opened her eyes to see Grover Dill standing underneath a tree with a very heavy branch that was cracking and breaking. Of course? Being the hillbilly, redneck, The Hills Have Eyes inbred that he is? He was too busy cackling like an old mountain witch to notice.
"I should tell him. I should. Mama would be disappointed, but I just can't take anymore of him!" Soliloquy debated with her conscience. She knew it was wrong. You ain't suppose to be doin' wrong. Sweet little baby Jesus, she just couldn't take him, anymore. So? Soliloquy settled on, "What Mama don't know won't hurt her."
She looked up at the branch. It honestly could've went either way, at that point. She knew which way it would go this time.
The tree branch groaned in protest as it continued to break away from it's perch. Then? CRAAAAAAACK! In the words of John Mellencamp (one of Mama's favorites since she's from Indiana, too)? It came "Crumblin' Down."
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The branch completely broke free and plummeted towards Grover's useless head. Soliloquy thought, "It's going to be more useless in about 3 more seconds." And? Soliloquy stifled a giggle.
Boom! Soliloquy couldn't believe what she'd seen. The branch fell on Grover just as he threw his head back to laugh harder. BAM! Smack in his face! Grover let out a guttural scream as the branch slammed his face and the rest of his body folded like an accordion as he fell to the sidewalk. He was breathing really funny and it sounded wet. Oh, no. She thought it would just knock him out! This was more than she could deal with. Mama would know how to handle this. She was so sure of it!
"Better look around and see if anyone was watching." Soliloquy began scanning the school, playground and sidewalk she was on. School had been over for awhile. No one was around. Don't ask? Don't tell. She ran all the way home.
Contrary to the skid mark named Grover Dill's opinion? She most certainly was not white trash. It was true that all that Mama could afford was a trailer. The trailer was clean and Soliloquy had her own room and she was happy. She didn't have a problem so why did that poster child for abortion have to say such mean and hurtful things? Did that make him deserving of a death sentence? As Soliloquy peaked the little hill right before her house? She saw Mama out in the front yard. Thank the Lord! She'll know what to do.
"Soliloquy, Baby? That you?" Mama looked up as she rounded the corner. Soliloquy ran to her until she almost passed out.
"Mama! I didn't mean to, Mama!" Soliloquy began to plead her case just as soon as she saw her.
"Baby! What's happened?" Mama's furrowed brow let Soliloquy know she was very concerned.
"Mama! I swear, Mama!" Soliloquy finally reached Mama and hugged her like she'd never let go.
"Come inside, Baby, and tell me what happened." Mama took Soliloquy inside and they both sat on the couch. Soliloquy was so happy to be home if not happy about her circumstance.
"Mama! It was Grover, again!" Soliloquy was tearing up
"What did he do this time, Soliloquy?" Mama asked as if she were irritated that his name even got brought up.
"I didn't know, Mama. I really thought tomatoes were vegetables. Grover told me they are actually fruit." Soliloquy timidly approached the subject.
"And that was the fight?" Mama knew there had to be more to this.
"No, there was more. That's just what started it." Soliloquy replied and Mama nodded her head in acknowledgement.
"He just wouldn't stop, Mama. He just..." Soliloquy burst into tears.
"Soliloquy? Did you have another spell?" Mama always got right to the point.
Welp. There it was. The time to cough it up. "I tried not to, Mama. Please, believe me!"
"Soliloquy? Tell me what happened and tell me what happened right now. I'm not angry, but I do need to know." Mama was getting more upset.
"Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth." Soliloquy said to herself.
"Okay. We kept arguing and he was saying really nasty things and I was getting so mad, Mama!" She couldn't hold back.
"He was really hurtful and hateful and I... I....." Soliloquy tapered off.
"You had a spell?" Mama already knew.
"Yes, Mama. I did." Soliloquy replied and stayed silent.
"How bad was it, Baby?" Mama resigned herself to the fate of knowing it has most certainly happened, again.
"Bad, bad, Mama." Soliloquy placed her head in her hands and openly sobbed.
"Baby? Is he dead?" Mama needed to know.
"I don't know, Mama. I just don't know." Soliloquy was racked with sobs.
"Baby, this isn't your fault. I was hoping it wouldn't get this bad. I was hoping it'd would never go this far. This is something you just can't control. There's no way you can when you get older. It happened to me, too." Mama said without realizing she'd just turned Soliloquy's world upside down.
What did she mean it happened to her, too? Wait, what?
"Mama? What do you mean it happened to you?" Soliloquy was certain she'd feel better once she talked to Mama but she most definitely was not feeling better.
"Soliloquy, you've had these spells every since you were born. Well? Before you were born? I had them."
Mama had the spells when she was younger, too?
"I was born like you. I had spells from time to time and it was usually out of my control until I got older. I learned how to self soothe so nothing really bad happened. I thought it was all okay. I really did. Well, when I met your Daddy? I thought I'd never have another spell, again. I really did. I loved him so much. In the beginning? He was good to me, too. Then? Bethany. She just had to come along and screw it up. She was so much prettier and thinner than me and your Daddy just fell head over heels. I was crushed. I was devastated. How can I compete with skinny ass Methany? What could I do to make sure your Daddy stayed with me? Well, I thought of what women have thought of since time immemorial. I got pregnant. Your Daddy was happy at first. He really wanted you. As time went on? I got bigger and more unattractive as I got further along. Pregnancy isn't normally when a woman looks her best. Well, that just made your horn dog Daddy run to Bethany even more. I was losing him and couldn't do a thing about it. One day? A few weeks before I was due to have you? Your Daddy came to me and informed me that he's moving in with Bethany. He said he wanted nothing further to do with me and would see me in court over visitation and support. He very much wanted to be in your life, but not mine. Well, who in the hell does he think he is? I'll be damned if he's coming to see you but doesn't want me! So? As he stood at the bottom step of our front porch? Flames started licking his workboots and he screamed. I just laughed with delight the whole time he was burning up! When I had you? The "spells" moved onto you and left me." Mama just smiled at Soliloquy like she just told her what the weather was like outside.
Soliloquy's head was spinning. Mama killed Daddy because he only wanted me and not her? No. NO! THAT'S NOT IT!
"Mama, you just got mad and it got away from you, right?" Soliloquy hoped she said yes.
"Oh, no, Baby. The second he told me he wanted you but not me? I crisped him like bacon!" Mama laughed. She actually laughed.
Soliloquy didn't know how to get out of this. Mama actually KILLED her Daddy. She never got to meet him. She never got to love him. She'd never known anything more than the crappy little podunk town she'd been born and raised in. She could've known more. She could've known nicer. She could've known better.
"What's the matter, Baby? You look unhappy." Was Mama actually serious? What's the matter? WHAT'S THE MATTER? SHE HAS GOT TO BE KIDDING!
It started happening. The flames licked onto the outside of the trailer and climbed up its walls and doors.
"Soliloquy! What are you doing? Why are you burning up the trailer? Stop it this instant!" Now Mama was the one angry.
"No, Mama, I can't do that. You wanted me all to yourself. Well? Here I am. Both of us can head down to hell together." Soliloquy looked at her with a sinister smile. It was then she just had to laugh. Sesame Street was on the T.V. behind Mama sobbing. Guess Grover got the last laugh after all.

......FREAKING AMAZING. I followed the project since it was announced, but then grad school, COVID, and delays all got in the way of things. I've had my PS5 since launch month and barely had 30 hours on it. I've doubled that since starting 2077.
Pros:
The storyline(s) are intriguing and well written. I rarely found myself skipping conversations or scenes. It has kept me glued to the TV every second. While I have no completed the main line, Panam's story was fantastic. More on that in a bit....
The action is well done. I don't need wall running, super jumping (yes I know that's in the game but I have yet to find it to be a requirement), hacking, stealth, etc. It all just works so well. You can truly play the game how you want to and be successful. I'm normally a LEROOOOOY JEEEEEENKINS type gamer but I found myself really enjoying the stealth aspect.
The map design and layout really feels like a real city. Side streets, on/off ramps, multi layered roads, alleys, just everything design wise makes it feel real. I really like how they not only made the map design large in terms of L x W, but the tall buildings you can actually go INSIDE of just added, literally, a new dimension.
My favorite part....the graphics. My. God. They. Are. Beautiful. Now I've never been a person to play a game because "it has the newest RTX and requires a minimum of 1000w of CPU/GPU processing power". Hell, I still play SNES games and marvel at how well they look. Remember, I'm on PS5 in performance mode. The neon lights (HUGE FAN) just bring the city to life. They nailed the color pallet and environment together.
Cons:
I found the weapons to be bland. I didn't want Borderlands style but something....more. Not much else to say.
Still has some glitches and bugs. Simply annoying buy I've had two that hard stopped me, requiring a restart. Not game breaking but annoying.
Once you complete a storyline with a NPC, they might as well die. It would be cool to make friends in the game and then bring them on missions, interact with them, live life. Even taking insert chosen lover on a date to earn whatever (new clothing, weapons, vehicles, etc) after their main storyline would just deepen the immersion.
Overall, the game was worth the multiple years of waiting. What I'd love to see (it won't happen but I can dream right?), is the team to take the Cyberpunk 2077 world and almost do a life simulator. It sort of is now but add a more personal touch. Friends, dating, job, thirst, hunger, rent, etc. The world is made for it. Hell, I'd even pay monthly for it! Could be online/offline too. The team could just add a few new shops a week, seasonal events, etc. But that's a dream. It'll never happen. Damn. Damn. Damn.....

hello, i'm not sure where else to go for this. my primary care doctor and speech therapist have seemingly given up on me and consider me to just be a treatment resistant case. in 2020 i was in a drive thru window taking to the speaker box thing and all of a sudden i felt a sharp pain in my throat; i assumed i had breathed in a bug through the window. for a solid 2 minutes i couldn't speak or swallow the sharp pain. my voice came right back, but since then my throat hurts constantly. not just when i swallow or when i talk or sing. i'm just constantly aware of my throat. speaking became more and more tiring. after about 2 weeks i quit my job as a barista in order to rest my voice completely. and i did for about a month. in that time, i saw my primary care doctor who said it sounded like just a bad allergy attack and i was put on certizine. continued not using my voice, but the problem persisted. after a year of advocating, i was seen by an ENT who said they agreed with my doctor that it was just allergies and also put me on omeprazole for potential silent reflux. i had an extreme allergic reaction to the omeprazole (broke out in itchy hives) and had to stop it immediately. from there, i was put on pepcid. got a new job WFH where i don't have to speak much, but continued seeing friends and speaking normally to my housemates. problem persisted. with more and more push and advocating, i got to get a laryngoscopy and the ent determined that i had signs of reflux but otherwise everything looked normal. when i explained that i was severely allergic to omeprazole they put me on pantoprazole (which i've now been on for 3 months) and referred me to a speech therapist. i only get to see my speech therapist once a month, but the drills don't seem to be helping or even targeting the pain/issues i'm feeling. it's been incredibly disheartening, these last two years. i am a classically trained vocalist who loves to sing and am a stage actor as well. i've been able to perform stage shows nightly for weeks/months without any issues at all in the past, but i managed to hurt myself in a drive thru window?? it doesn't make sense to me and it sucks that i've had to push and push and push to be seen by specialists who don't seem to care. i dropped acting and singing when i started noticing problems hoping they would go away with proper medication and treatment, but it's been 2 years. i haven't gotten to sing in all that time and i feel like i'm losing my mind! singing is one of my passions and reasons for being, cheesy as it sounds, and not having been able to express myself through my voice in 2 years has been depressing. my speech therapist pretty much says i'm just treatment resistent, but i feel like there are more options to explore before just giving up! i'm wondering if anyone has an experience like this and was able to find relief/treatment? i have thyroid imbalances and am taking levothyroxine (had thyroid issues before all of this) and am wondering if maybe there's something there to do with my throat problems?? should i request an MRI or some sort of CT scan?? even acupuncture! i just don't know where to go form here, but my speech therapist seems to kind of just think i'm going to be like this forever now and it's really scary. any advice/shared experience would be appreciated.

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Jim Carrey lives for TV in the dazzling fantasy 'THE TRUMAN SHOW'
(By Owen Gilberman)
Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey) the hero of Peter Weir's beautifully sinister and transfixing entertainment-age daydream 'THE TRUMAN SHOW' (Paramount), lives in a storybook island community called Seahaven's that's as sunny and immaculate as a tropical postcard. Each morning, he says goodbye to his perky, beaming wife (Laura Linney) and leaves his gilded suburban home, which looks like one of those New Age gingerbread office buildings that began to go up about a decade ago. Arriving downtown, where he works as an insurance salesman, Truman swirls through lanes of traffic nearly surreal in their civility, whisks past perfectly stacked rows of interchangeable magazines, and makes small talk with the locals, who are as chipper as the droids in a candy-bar commercial.
Have we entered some creepy parallel universe? Or is Seahaven, with it's programmed-cherry settings and programmed cherry people, its meticulous, Magritte-goes-to-the-mall look of the '90s melting into the '50s and back again, the place America is fast becoming?
Actually, Seahaven is a fake – not a town at all but a gigantic domed television studio, where Truman has spent his entire 30 years as the unknowing star of an intricately rigged TV series, a voyeuristic epic beamed 24 hours a day into homes all over the world. The events of Truman's life are overseen by Christof (Ed Harris), the show's ominous creator-visionary, who sits up in his booth like a network Big Brother, molding everything before him. The streets and buildings of Seahaven are sets (the sun and moon are electronically operated light shows), and the citizens are round-the-clock actors, each equipped with a tiny camera. Even Truman's family and friends aren't what they seem. His buddy (Noah Emmerich), who regularly arrives to share a six-pack, uses macho-guy bonding to create an ersatz intimacy.
His wife is a '90s Donna Reed (Linney's overly synthetic character is actually the film's one flaw), and his memory of losing his father in a drowning accident is like a "haunting" TV-movie tragedy. Everywhere Truman looks, he's being filmed, observed, scrutinized; the whole world is watching him. Only he doesn't know it. The reason the show is a hit is that although everything surrounding Truman is an illusion, his reactions are innocently and utterly real.
The paranoid ingeniousness of 'THE TRUMAN SHOW' brings to mind David Lynch directing a smiley-faced '1984' – that or 'INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS' updated to the era of Jerry Springer and 'THE REAL WORLD'. The film takes off from a culture–ours– that erases privacy by turning reality into television and television into reality. That said, if 'THE TRUMAN SHOW' were just a 'TWILIGHT ZONE' satire of life, transporting experience in the way that Weir, working from Andrew Nicol's nimbly fanciful screenplay, allows us direct access to the eerie virtual reality of Truman's world, which is portrayed as a hyper-clear dream of our own homogenized, theme-parked lives, with everything from catchphrases to love dictated by the prerogatives of corporate central.
Jim Carrey has always been naturally stylized, a man gleefully unleashing his id and watching it bounce around the room. Here, he hasn't let go of that stylization, exactly. He's sculpted it down, reducing himself to slightly gawky mannerisms of a doofus everyman domesticated beyond his powers, literally raised to be a character on a TV show. As it dawns on Truman that there are vast forces mucking with his life, Carrey's happy smirk turns into a snarl of rage, and he inspires dynamic feels of audience revolt. What Truman is discovering and fighting, the surreal sense that everything in the world revolves around -him-, is really the core aesthetic of TV commercials ("This Bud's for you!"), now turned into a madhouse threat. A consumer-age Walter Mitty, he longs to escape, to go to Fiji and reunite with the bewitching coed (Natascha McElhone) he once, for a moment, loved.
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Unbeknownst to him, she was an actress on 'THE TRUMAN SHOW' who tried to shake free of her role (and was hauled off by network fascists). Carrey uses his timing and his ironic sincerity to fuse us to Truman's desperation, turning him into a postmodern Capra hero. We're dying for Truman to break through Seahaven's fourth wall – to become, for the first time, himself.
Weir gently tweaks the viewers who gather at a bar, or over pizza, to tune into Truman's latest exploits. Those viewers, of course, are us. Watching the movie, we're inside 'THE TRUMAN SHOW' and outside it at the same time. We feel the tug of its drama as surely as anyone on screen, yet we're never allowed to forget that for Truman, romance, friendship, even his own memories are a prefab series of events– a behavior-modifacation experiment drawn from the situational language of television. It may well have taken a clown genius like Jim Carrey to play someone who wakes up to the notion that his whole life has been a ghostly pantomime.
In its own ominously witty way, 'THE TRUMAN SHOW' is really asking, What happens to our experience when all we want to -be- is what we see? That may be the first essential question of the 21st century.
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FROM: 'ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE' – Issue #435 (June 5, 1998)

Over the past month or two I’ve binge-watched The Wire after my neighbor told me it is one of the best series ever made that still rings true today. And after finishing I have to agree. I’ve never seen a more artistic portrayal of American cities in any other medium. I will say, I don’t really have a “favorite” season but if I was forced to make a decision it would probably be Season 1, 2, or 4. The only thing that upset me about the entire series was the way Omar went out. I felt like it was built up to be an Omar VS Marlo all-out battle at the end and I was surprised that he was just over & done with out of nowhere. Especially when in the past he was always hyper-aware of his surroundings. Overall, other than Omar, a few characters resonated with me for different reasons.
D’Angelo- What a tragic story. Perhaps the best character out of the first season. He came off on first impression as a “dumb gangster” when he kept saying “the way you did that security guard.” But after we saw him in the Pit schooling the others, he showed he was actually really smart and a good guy just in a bad place.
Daniels- Perhaps the greatest character development from the show. At first we are introduced to him as a “dirty” cop who only cared about his career. But time and time again throughout the series he made decisions that were in his worst-interest in terms of moving up the career ladder. He sacrificed himself over and over again for his ex-wife and for his detail. And at the end of it all, he moved up by doing the right thing. And then Finally made a decision to leave the police by doing what was right.
Stringer- Probably my favorite character second to Omar throughout the series. We saw him try to leave the life of the streets and his past caught up with him. I was frustrated watching the third season knowing that Avon was holding him back. But when it was all said and done, Avon was the smart one.
Avon- The one thing that surprised me the most about him is that he sided with stringer over his family. I was almost certain that Stringer was a dead man walking after the reveal.
Marlo/Chris/Snoop- I hated these characters in a good way. You know a show is good when they truly make you hate the villains. What a bunch of psychopaths.
Prop Joe- I knew his death was coming and I think he knew too. My thoughts were he was scared of Marlo and thought if he could keep him happy he would be safe. There was nothing he could say to save himself as Marlo truly liked to kill.
McNulty- I have a love hate relationship with him. It’s very rare that characters on a show break the fourth wall and say what the audience thinks about another character. He truly was a great police officer in the most asshole way possible.
Lester & Bubbles we’re also great characters and the show nailed drug addiction.
Overall, I don’t think I’ll ever see a better show reflecting inner cities. I have it at my #3 spot in terms of all-time shows. 1- BB/BCS 2- GoT 4- Stranger Things 5- Sopranos.

Tech based characters in a superpowered/magical setting—be they mad scientists, genius inventors, disgruntled engineers, or something in between—always seem to be close to the top. Maybe their gadgetry enhances existing powers, maybe it stands on its own, but regardless, the judicious application of missiles and unobtanium reactors seems to work rather well for the lot.
I present an alternative, the other side of technology, where magic isn’t poorly understood science, but so far above it that those ants scurrying around with their poor substitutes stand no chance. To explore that, I offer two scenarios! To be clear, in both I’ll be playing the poor tech reliant sap who is out of their depth!~

1. Tech based superheroes:

Josephine slams against the wall, groaning in tandem with the metallic reinforcement within her suit. She slides to the ground, sparks flying freely from a severed wire in her left arm, grounding itself to a piece of metal scrap. She’s damaged, and something feels broken, but not out of the fight yet. She can’t fail here, not after so much work, countless hours of tinkering cannot come to naught. A quick turn of her head, and the internal targeting system gains a lock on her opponent. Data instantly transmitted to a support drone whirling around her.
The cannon mounted beneath it turns to the target, a soft hiss sounding out as the weapon opens its chamber and prepares to fire. Despite the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, Josephine grins. The drone mounts a light gas gun of her own design, perfectly suited to the occasion, far more powerful than conventional weaponry, there’s no chance in hell that it would—
The explosion cuts off her train of thought. Her target waves their hand absentmindedly, and the drone’s weapon violently detonates, sending it scattering in flaming wreckage around the street. The target vanishes, before Josephine can feel the emergency release valve on her powered armor trigger. She’s yanked out, tossed to the hard concrete, and a boot is planted firmly on her chest. Her foe looms over the girl. She looks so…small, without her equipment and armor. So vulnerable. Surely, they can put her to better use than this charade~

1. The artificer:

Janek crept through the underbrush, the massive boiler strapped to his back doing nothing for the young man’s stealth. Not that he ever had much of a hope that he would be sneaky, not with the clinking of the carabiners and tubing bumping against each other every 5 seconds. Even him and his ego had to admit, there were more elegant solutions to his particular conundrum. But it was a damn effective one, and he was more than proud of his invention.
The wild boars proved no match for his latest killing machine, even with their thick skulls and tusks. So Janek went in search for ever greater prey, thinning the predator population of the nearby forest quite considerably. And now it was time for the ultimate challenge, a real life field test against the most dangerous foes he could find in the forest! The magically inclined who made their home there, terrorizing settlements and caravans alike with their awe inspiring spells. But they would be no match for the likes of Janek Straka! He was practically trembling with excitement, readjusting his glasses and inspecting his choice in weapon once again.
A sort of rifle, one which had all the trappings of the basic prototypes you might see in a Kingdom’s armory, but with his own tweaks. A magazine holding long iron spikes was fastened to the top, in front of a series of rubber tubing which led back to a valve assembly on the boiler he was wearing as a backpack. A massive chamber of boiling water which, with the pull of a trigger, would flood the weapon with steam and send deadly spikes slamming through whatever was on the other end.
It did not take much longer for him to find his quarry. For they were strutting towards him, rather confidently. Through the dim light let in by the trees, he couldn’t quite make out who it was. The Elven warrior, a proud individual who had practiced magic longer than Janek had been alive? The necromancer, who wasn’t nearly as frail as her undead legions? Or maybe the local Vampire had finally made an appearance, a monster that even Janek had to admit hadn’t lost their allure over the centuries. Oh well, it wouldn’t matter in a few seconds. Janek shoulders his steam-rifle, takes careful aim, gently squeezes the trigger and…only hears a short hiss. A low chuckle comes from his opponent as they keep walking towards him
“Your weapon. I’m not familiar with it, but I can sense it needed fire to work? Someone of your alleged intellect should’ve known that pyromancy is one of the easiest magicks known to man. Snuffing out was child’s play”
Janek stammered together a reply, flipping open the boiler cover to find that the charcoal had gone out “Aha, very clever of you! B-But you are mistaken, I meant you no harm! Perhaps, perhaps we can talk things out?”
His ‘prey’ just smiles, shakes their head in response, and in a flash they are upon the poor artificer
I hope you liked the prompt! I tried to go for a balance there, with both modern/superhero ideas and a fantasy concept thrown in for fun. If you found any part of it interesting, or even if you had your own idea related to the concept, feel free to PM me!

I'm reaching out for some advice and suggestions. I know absolutely nothing about landscaping besides cutting, trimming, or lawn care. I am located in Pittsburgh. Weather has been good besides occasional raining. I can get good sun exposure on the front of the house and side closer to the street.
I probably should have a generalized list of landscaping tools to own to maintain the yard! I'm willing to learn and get experience. What are your recommendations for tools?
Here's a snapshot of my front yard that I want to fix up and cleaned up. I'd like to keep things maintained at a low level. I have kids to take care of. :) Picture: https://i.imgur.com/PdIb9nQ.jpg
I have three projects in my mind that I want to start off:
Project #1: Remove two Hedge Bushes -Left bush, mulch, and stump to be removed and let grass grow. Reason: It doesn't feel right to have that bush there. People and I would always have to swerve around the bush on the walkway.
-Right bush and stump to be removed
I've seen a comment that using a 'Leverage Winch Puller' tool to pull bush out. I have that tool and I can give that a try?
Project #2: Front Stone area -Remove stump -Clean up and rebuild same stones -Install new mulch and low maintenance small flowers (my wife pointed out that we could try rocks?) What are low maintenance flowers?
Project #3: Side Stone area -Clean up and rebuild same stones (you can see that the stone wall is pushing out. I want to level them up.) -I'll like to follow the same look with front/side stone area. Flowers or rocks?
Half of the time I spend time on thinking too much! I'm trying to understand everything before I go ahead and do them. I have low experience with landscaping and I can learn more! Many Thanks!

Hi, my friend received a hand-written riddle in the post. We have no idea what it means and have been stuck for a while! Can anyone help us solve it?:
FIRST, ALL AND WHOLE THAT DWELLING HOUSE AND YARD AT THE BACK THEREOF WITH THE STABLE BUILT ON THE WALL OF THE NORTH GATE PORT AND A LEIGH HOUSE BELOW THE STAIR LEADING TO THE HIGHER TENEMENT AND WHOLE PERTINENTE LYING ON THE NORTH SIDE OF THE NORTH STREET OF ST ANDREWS IMMEDIATELY ADJOINING TO THE WEST PORT BOUNDED BETIXT THE CROFTS AND PARK AND THE COMMON HIGHWAY LEADING FROM THE NORTH GATE PORT ON THE WEST SIDE OF THE HOUSE OF JANET ROBERTSON ON THE EAST SIDE OF THE HOUSE OF THOMAS ROBERTSON ON THE NORTH AND THE SAID NORTH STREET ON THE SOUTH.

Hi everyone, with the new API limitations possibly taking effect at the end of the month, I wanted to make a post about a self-hosted Reddit alternative, Lemmy.
I'm very new to their community and want to give a very honest opinion of their platform for those who may not know about it. I'm sure some of you have already heard about it, and I've seen posts of Lemmy(ers?) posting that everyone neeeeeeds to switch immediately. I don't want to be one of those posters.

Why would we want an alternative?

I won't go into all of the details here, as there are now dozens of posts, but essentially Reddit is killing off 3rd party apps with extremely high pricing to access their data. To most of us who have been with Reddit for years, this is just the latest in a long line of things Reddit has changed about the site to be more appealing to Wall Street. I don't want to argue here if the sky is falling or if people should or shouldn't be leaving Reddit, I'm simply here showing an alternative I think has promise.
Links if you do want to find out more of what's happening
Apollo Developer explaining how it will effect his one app
Mod post on how these changes will effect their communities
Hour long interview with Apollo Dev for more detail

What is it?

Lemmy is a "federated" Reddit alternative. Meaning there is no "center" server, servers interconnect to bring content to users. If you use Mastadon, it's exactly like Mastadon. I view it like Discord, where there are many servers (they call them instances) and inside those servers are different communities. You can belong to a memes community on one server and another server. The difference is these communities are in a Reddit forum format, and you pick your own home screen, meaning you can subscribe to communities from other servers.
Long story short, you can subscribe to as many communities (subreddits) as you want from wherever you are.
The downside is that it's confusing as hell to wrap your head around, and for most users it requires explaning. The developers know this, Mastadon had to release a special wizard to help people join, and I think Lemmy will need to do something similar.
So essentially, there are communities (analogous to subreddits) that live on instances (analogous to servers). People can sign up for any instance they want, and subscribe not only communities on that instance, but any Lemmy instance. To me, that's pretty neat, albeit complicated.

Pros so far:

• The community is extremely nice so far, it feels like using Reddit back in the early 2010s. No karma farming, cat pictures are actually just pictures of cats, memes are fun, people seem genuinely happy to be there
• Work is being done to improve it actively, new features are on the board and work is being done consistently
• Federated is a cool thing, there's no corporate governance to decide what is okay or not (more in cons)
• It's honestly the best alternative I've seen so far

Cons so far:

• As mentioned it's confusing just getting started. This is the number 1 complaint I read about it, and it is. Sounds like the devs hear this and are challenging themselves to get an easier onboarding process up and running.
• The reason for this post, second biggest complaint, missing niche communities. I'm hoping some people here help resolve this issue
• Not easy to share communities. Once created, instance owners have to do quite a bit of evangelizing. There's join-lemmy.org where if you have an instance, an icon, and a banner image it will start showing, but beyond that you have to post about your instance in relevant existing communities that you exist, and get people to join.
• It's very early. The apps are pretty bare bones, it's in it's infancy. I think it's growing though, and I think this will change, but there's definitely been a few bugs I've had to deal with.
• Alt-right/Alt-left instances. Downside of being federated, anyone can create an instance. There are already some fringe communities. You do have power to block them from your instance though, but they're offputting when you first get there, it takes a bit to subscribe to communities and block out the ones that are... out there.

Sure, but how does SelfHosted come in?

Since Lemmy is "federated", these instances come from separate servers. One thing I see about Lemmy right now is that there are a lot of "general" instances, each with a memes community, a movies, music, whatever, but there aren't a lot of the specific communities that brought people to Reddit. Woodworking, Trees, Art, those niche communities we all love are missing because there is not a critical mass of people.
This is where selfhosting comes in. Those communities don't fit well on other instances because those instances are busy managing their own communities. For example, there are several gaming communities, but there are no specific communities for specific games. No Call of Duty, no Mass Effect, no Witcher, etc. Someone could run an RPG specific instance and run a bunch of specific RPG communities. Same with any other genre.
This is where I see Lemmy headed, most people join the larger instances, but then bring in communities they care about.

What's it like running an instance?

Right now most communities there are very tiny, my personal instance has about 10 people on it. That is quite different from the subreddit alternative, but I see that as a positive personally. I'm hoping to grow my fledgling community into something neat.
If the hammer falls I see a mild migration to Lemmy. I don't think it'll be like the Digg migration, but I think there could be many users who give up on Reddit and I want them to have a stable landing place. Communities I've come to love I want to be able to say "Hey, I'm over here now, you're welcome to join me."
There are several million 3rd party app users who access Reddit through 3rd party apps. If only 10% of them decide to switch to an alternative once they are no longer able to access Reddit, that means a couple hundred thousand people will be looking for new homes. I think we have an opportunity to provide them.
I'm coming up on character limit, so if anyone is interested - the only requirements are a domain name and a host. Everything is dockerized, and I'm happy to share my docker compose with anyone. I followed the guide here but there were a lot of bumps and bruises along the way. I'm happy to share what I learned.
Anyway, thanks for reading all this way. I recognize this may not be for everyone, but if you ever wanted to run your own community, now is your chance!
Edit: Lots of formatting

Lets not mince words here, we all know what this is: Reddit is in the process of selling out to Wall Street. Wall Street tells Reddit to STFU and start making us money/influencing your users to our demands. Reddit admins bark like dogs to their masters and says "Yes boss!" while doing a jig and proceed to attempt to farm out their community for cash.
Time to get off Reddit, it literally has become everything it was created to go against. I hope the Wall Street investors lose any money they pour into the site and I hope a better alternative shows up quickly.
Edit: Copy and paste this to as many sub as you like, if you agree, and let the users know their data and behavior patterns are about to the sold to the highest bidder, to make the infinite quarterly growth.

Ellith Kensington, the famous horror author of the 1600's, was synonymous with controversy. Previously exiled from several communities, he now dwelled amongst the Plymouth Colony. The townsfolk were wary of him and his abhorrent writing. They fearfully pondered the rumors of his past, the stories of his creatures, and the inevitable disasters that seemed to always follow in his wake.
Kensington's publisher's deadlines encroached ever so closely onto him, in this, the hour of an impossible decision. Write the story so he can afford to eat and run from the life he's made for himself once again, or suffer in starvation and welcome death.
He wet his quill with ink. Flames leapt in the nearby fire, illuminating the vacant parchment that lie before him, along with his gaunt and slender face. Perspiration clung to his brow as he gripped his writing quill.
Food came at a cost and his writing brought the only chance of attaining what he so desperately needed. He was strapped for means of purchasing food due to the length of time since his last story. His publishers grew impatient and angry. He had waited as long as he could without eating, the hunger was killing him. Living in fear of his own writing and the certain doom that follows was no longer an option.
The hungered pains and shrieks of his stomach prodded along his relent. In a moment of weakness, He decided to abandon his morality altogether.
Fear grasped and tightened it's cold fingers round his shoulders as he pressed quill to paper. Once more, he breathed life into the macabre.
It's happening.
A portal blacker than the ink on his quill, stained the night sky cracking the dimensions between time and space.
Black liquid spilled through, splattering out a limp and lifeless creature onto the cobblestone street.
The creatures eyes open.
Its claws sheathe out of its massive paws and the creature's legs twitch. It stands tall and shakes off the inky afterbirth onto the nearing houses and rooftops. Towering over the town, the creature lifts its head and lets out a deafening shriek.
Inside, a startled Kensington fearfully fumbles, overturning his ink.
The creature scans the streets and targets a young woman desperately seeking shelter from its fury.
THE CREATURE POUNCES.
Kensington rushes to the front door and flings it ajar, stumbling back in terror. No more than three yards before him lay a woman in the street, pressed against the cobblestone by another of his cryptid creations. Its claws had pierced her lifeless body all the way through, curling into the dirt below.
It devoured the woman and triumphantly roared with a wicked delight, echoing amongst the screams and shouts of the nearby townspeople.
Kensington's guilt tore at his very soul. He scampered to back to his writing desk and, through his writing, directs the beast to his front door.
The massive beast fills the doorway, splintering the wooden beams and decimating the stone walls. as Kensington lifts his arms, accepting defeat. He Embraces death, so as to spawn evil in this world no longer.
The Beast clamps down on him. It's incredibly sharp sets of teeth serating his midsection to mush, accepting his offer and claiming the both of their existences.
An eerie silence danced amongst the town, the stars and the moon above; as the flame lighting the wick on his writing desk burnt out.
Kensington and his cryptids are no more.

I was doing some reading today that led me to some articles about ASD children being more likely to have uncommon or “unusual” fears. Thought I’d share one of mine and see if anyone else wanted to share experiences with this.
I adored Sesame Street as a kid and watched mostly in the very late 80s and early 90s. There was this one game show host character named Guy Smiley who was very loud and… exuberant, I guess. He absolutely terrified me. If I saw him on the screen or heard the theme music associated with some of his recurring segments on the show, I would literally run and hide behind the TV or a curtain until the next segment began.

Hi all - Is this any good? Does it feel amateurish? How can it be improved? Any feedback appreciated.
I stood in the street, behind a tree, as I watched the living-room’s open window. The curtain net fluttered with a light summer’s breeze. It’s a funny thing to be stalking your own home.
It wasn’t long before I heard their laughter, my two little girls: Lily and Olive. Your childrens’ joy shouldn’t puncture you with pain, but it did. A searing hurt bolted down to my heart.
How could they be laughing? How could they be happy when their mother was locked up in a mental institution? At least, I should have been. Earlier that day, I’d lifted the keys from Tony, a guard at Perry Hill Psychiatric Unit. I'd ridden the bus south, paying the fare with the lucky £1 my mother had gifted me for my eighth birthday.
‘Stop,’ one of the girl's shout spilled out into the street. I couldn’t tell if it was Olive or Lily. But I thought it was Lily for she had a mouth on her from the day she came out. You couldn’t blame me for not knowing who said it, it had been three years since I’d seen the two.
My husband John, ex-husband I should say, would be in there somewhere, probably working on a book. He was a writer of stories, or as I like to say a creator of fiction. Some of the fiction which he creates is only spoken though, like when he told the doctor I’d been speaking to invisible people. What a ridiculous thing to say. Helen was not invisible, far from it. She was huge, the biggest person I ever saw. I would step into the dining room, and there she was, all scrunched up in the corner of the room. Poor girl sat on the floor with her head bowed as the back of her thick neck pressed against the ceiling. Her black hair draped over her body as she hugged her knees. If she had stretched her legs, her feet would have pocked holes in the far wall. And we didn’t have money to fix it every other day. John had only published one book, and for all the hoopla, and partying we had done during its release, sales were low. Helen was just too big so she just sat there. She would not even reach for the jug of tea I would bring her as I sat for my cup. I thought a cup too small for her hands. Not even a custard cream biscuit could entice her, and once those delights touched the air, you couldn’t put them back in the tin, so it was more for me.
The girl always wore that white dress. It looked like she’d left a man at the alter, ran across a pond, in which she would have tripped before clawing out onto the muddy banks. Her black hair gleamed wet and hung over most of her pale face. She never spoke with her mouth. It was her black eyes which told me of her pain. She had been hurt, bad, I damn near know it.
During some evenings, the two of us would just sit there watching a game show on the television. She liked it - I could see her peering from between her clumps of hair. I did miss that poor girl when I locked up.
I thought I would check on her once I got in the house that afternoon.

--- Table of Contents ---
--- Part 1/2 ---
When Shon woke again, it was to be told he'd slept, not only the rest of the day and night of the incident, but the entire day after as well. Despite the Cleric assuring Shon that this was normal, he still had Shon eat breakfast in the infirmary while the Squires attended their morning lessons. He'd slept through drills, breakfast, and prayer.
The Cleric kept the curtains drawn over the window, though Shon's head wasn't pounding anymore, and had added a second set of standing curtains around the girl's bed. Shon's eyes flicked in her direction with every alternate bite he managed to force down, but there was no movement beyond the white cloth.
Master Daunas came in shortly before tenth bell and armor practice to inform Shon that he was to take the day off to rest but could rejoin the others in training the following day. He was at least allowed to leave the infirmary, though he waited until he could hear sparring outside before he did. He didn't want to run into any of the Squires.
As he opened the door to leave something flew by the window, catching Shon's attention enough to make him stop and look over. But it was already long gone. Just a bird... Assuming he hadn't imagined it. He shook his head, still aching all over. His mind swam with worries and memories, made worse by the fact that the Cleric was trying to hide shivers now that Shon was fully rested. He'd probably just imagined it...
Back in his room Shon huddled over his journal. He could still smell the smoke in his hair and had decided it would be best to shower soon, but finally alone, his thoughts and memories could no longer be ignored.
So he drew. He tried to start safe. Nangran atop his borrowed horse; Ivelm mostly naked and shaking a club in his doorway; the Archmage's workroom lined in shelves filled with magical components. That one had taken a while. But as he released these images onto the page, others forced themselves forward. Smoke billowing over treetops; a burning tower; charred bodies; and a girl reaching out through the flames. A girl lying asleep in the bed next to his. The stillness of the picture made her look dead.
He dropped his pencil, letting it roll right off the desk. Crossing his arms over the book, he rested his head on his desk. The wood felt warm compared to his skin, comforting. What more could he have done? What could a Paladin have done? Or Master Veon-Zih? Shon saw again the bodies and shivered.
No one could save everyone. To think otherwise was pure arrogance. But knowing the facts and feeling them were two very different things. The tower wasn’t that far from Hamerfoss. Shouldn’t they have known something was going on? Shouldn’t they have been able to do something sooner? Years sooner? Long before the fire killed those people?
A loud tapping startled him awake. When had he fallen asleep? Shon searched his room in confusion, trying to piece together his dream and what had awoken him. He'd been in the Temple chapel, but as he'd walked down the middle aisle, the pews had started to decay, the stone walls crumbling. Small plants, then trees began to sprout from the ground, overgrowing the once-holy place now in ruin. Shon pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, trying to remember what had come next... A man with white hair pulled back in a ponytail had been standing at the head altar... something with leathery wings on his shoulder...
The painful screech of something sharp on glass had Shon jumping up, his chair falling to clatter on the ground behind him. He looked to his window but saw only orange sky beyond. Was the sun already setting? He knelt on the mattress and looked out the window, unsure what he expected to see. He was on the third floor, but that was definitely where the sound had come from, and the window was the only glass in the room.
Nothing but open sky.
He opened the tiny window, the pane swinging up and letting in cold and refreshing air that helped clear his mind. Master Daunas's voice bellowed orders from the courtyard below, and Shon stuck his head out to look down and see his fellows working through their dagger forms. He'd slept through lunch and afternoon lessons. And he still needed a shower.
If he hurried, he would be able to shower before the others finished their lesson. Shon left the window open and even opened his door before he remembered to grab a fresh uniform. Obviously, he still wasn't thinking clearly.
The halls were blissfully empty, and Shon could almost pretend that even if he did pass someone, their breath wouldn't show in the air. It was a short-lived fantasy, however. He managed to make it all the way to the showers, but when he opened the door a voice called, "Squire! Why aren't you... Oh..." Shon performed a sharp about face to stand at attention before the Major General.
"At ease, Squire Shon," Selibra sighed, waving him down, "Did you get enough rest?"
"Yes, Sir," Shon answered but then caught movement out of the corner of his eye, again. He hadn't managed to turn his head far enough to see before the Major General started speaking. Shon snapped his head back to give the officer his undivided attention.
"You did well, Squire. Smith Nangran told us what happened at the tower." Sir Selibra managed a strained smile that faded quickly, "If you want to talk about what you saw there... any one of us will be more than willing to listen. You shouldn't have had to experience death so soon." an image of an arm pulling away from a charred corpse flashed in Shon's vision.
Shon swallowed down the accompanying nausea at the memory and managed a nod, adding a quiet "Thank you, Sir." for good measure.
Feeling the need to scrub even more than before, Shon was grateful when the Major General left, allowing him to enter the still-open room. The shower was only mildly comforting, however. What should have been scalding water felt merely lukewarm now, the mist billowing off his truly icy skin thick enough that he could barely see the spigots. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed and tried to imagine the images flowing off of him with the filth...
Something chirped, and Shon slammed the water off. Just the pipes creaking... How much longer would he have to rest before his mind stopped playing tricks on him? But as he moved for his towel, Shon stopped in shock, his new uniform had been scattered around the benches and floor.
He hadn't heard the door open, but had heard the pipes creaking? But who here would even do something like this? Shon started to search the showers, but as he did, he heard something else—voices in the hall. The Squires were done with their practice. He still didn't want to see them and dressed quickly, rushing from the shower and slamming the door behind him.
Something thumped into the door from the other side. Shon held his breath and turned slowly. It was his imagination. It had to be. He reached for the handle again and, standing behind the swing, opened the shower slowly.
"He's been gone three days... Do you think they sent him away?" Thom's voice sounded from around a corner, and Shon jumped in surprise, pulling the door open fully as if he could hide behind it.
"No way. he's the best Squire we have, so what if he's a Sorcerer." They were talking about him... Shon definitely didn't want to see them yet. He dashed down the opposite way, taking a long way around through the Paladin's barracks and back to his room. Or that's what he'd planned before he remembered the Squires hall would be full of people now taking their break and trying to get into the shower before everyone else. His feet faltered, and he turned away again, to one of the hardly used stairs that would take him down to the rest of the fortress.
Barred from his room, Shon made his way to the place he associated the most with comfort, the chapel. It wasn't empty, three Paladins knelt in prayer near the front, but it didn't matter anymore. He felt a wash of calm as he entered the incense-filled room, the sweet-smelling smoke finally banishing the stench of burning hair from his memory.
Shon took a spot near the back, kneeling to pray as he stared up at the statue of Hengist behind the altar. He was dressed in full plate mail, his arm raised in triumph, holding his mighty sword, Darkspliter.
Shon sighed and felt himself smile for what felt like the first time in a very long time. He could tell Hengist anything and everything, and none of it out loud... But then his smile faded. What would he say...?
I'm sorry. I feel like I've been lying to everyone, to you. I've known there was something different about me, something wrong with me. That's why no one likes to touch me, why everyone pulls away at the feel of my skin, like it's somehow dirty or painful. I should've realized... Should have known...
But I worked so hard... You know that, don't you? And I'm not ready to give up. I'll do whatever it takes, atone anyway I can if you just tell me how. The Major General said something about it being a sign. I want to believe he meant the unlikely convenience of Smith Nangran knowing an Archmage who could make an item so I won't have to get the tattoo. Thank you. I just hope I don't disappoint after getting a second chance...
The bell for dinner sounded. Feeling better, Shon considered going with the Paladins as they left the chapel. Until one of them shivered as they passed. "Winters right around the corner," another muttered.
"We'll need to install the heating orbs soon." the last answered before the door closed... He wasn't hungry anyway.
Please, Hengist. Don't let me hurt anyone else. Kefir was trying to help me, and I answered that kindness with pain. What if the healers hadn't gotten to him in time? Would I have smothered him in ice? Please, I'll give up everything if it means that will never happen again...
But he didn't want to give up anything. He wanted to fight, to reach his highest potential, and lead a life of meaning. He thought of Master Veon-Zih. The Monk had told him that he didn't need to be a Paladin to fight for justice, and he was living proof of that. But...
I don't want to be alone... At first, I thought I just wanted you, a god, as a guiding light in my life. But now I realize that being a Paladin gives me even more than that. It gives me brothers and friends, and I don't want to lose them either. But I especially don't want to hurt them.
Shon clenched his hands tighter, as tight as he could, digging his fingers into the spaces between his knuckles; as if external pain might dull internal strife...
They say I'm scary... And I know they aren't really joking. I can see it in their eyes and hear it in their nervous laughs when they try and make it a joke. But they only mean when they fight me... don't they? And I'll never try to hurt them. It's only sparring... they know that... don't they?
He squeezed his eyes tighter shut,
But what about now? Will they be even more afraid? Even when we aren't sparring? Can I blame them if they are?
He actually found himself waiting for an answer... Of course, none came. He wasn't a Paladin yet, and wouldn't be able to feel the god until he swore his Oath and took a piece of Hengist into himself. For now, Shon took in a deep breath, as deep as he could, then let it out slowly, relaxing his hands and face as he attempted to release his anxieties unto his god.
I won't give up. I'll fight this danger within me as hard as I will fight any threat without. I ask for your help with this. Please don't give up on me yet. I'll prove I'm worthy, I swear.
The bell ending dinner and starting study time sounded. Shon stayed in the chapel until a handful of Squires came in to pray themselves. They hesitated by the door, but Shon didn't look at them. He knew he couldn't hide forever. But he also wasn't sure what he should say to any of them. Or if he should say anything at all. Shon waited until they moved away from the door to finally stand. If he had to face any of them, he wanted it to be the ones he considered friends first.
Shon left the chapel and made his way to the library, fighting the urge to just go back to his room. Heads swiveled in his direction the moment he opened the library door. Shon flinched, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it, pulling his energy in as best he could.
He stepped in, and the Squires exchanged looks, but then the Paladin on library duty coughed, and they quickly went back to reading.
His typical spot was available as usual, so Shon made his way there. The others would want to talk after... and if not, he would just go back to his room. Distracted by his continued worries -and the silent effort to hold his energy in- Shon still heard when something behind him hissed along the stone.
He spun quickly, scanning the floor. This time he definitely wasn't imagining it...
"Squire Shon... Shouldn't you be resting?" He turned back to find the Squires trying to make it seem like they weren't staring at him, while the Paladin who called looked openly concerned.
Shon's cheeks flushed, now feeling cool rather than warm. Another change... He cleared his throat, "No, Sir..." and when the Paladin's worried expression didn't let up, Shon added, "I've been resting all day."
"Three days..." Zihler muttered.
Shon met his eyes and the Squire smiled, but Shon couldn't tell if the expression seemed strained or not. He nodded anyway, taking his seat alone at the table by the window.
Books on their current subject of study were already laid out, and he pulled one forward, opening it without checking the title. As he read, he could hear the others occasionally whisper and even caught snippets of what they were saying,
"I found another one. Do you think this will be enough?" Thom asked.
"We have the rest of the hour; we should find all we can," Rerves answered. It didn't sound like they were studying, but Shon had missed three days of lessons; maybe they were working on an assignment... He went back to his reading. He would get any missed work tomorrow.
When the bell rang that would finally begin their last hour of free time, Shon closed his book. It would be best to just go to bed early; everyone seemed to think he should be resting anyway; they could talk after he got the sealing item... But he hadn't stood yet when his six closest friends jumped up, books in hand, and crowded around him, preventing him from leaving. From running away.
"We're glad you're okay." Rehlien blurted out.
"The Major General told us what happened," Baradin added.
Shon looked from him to Kefir and took in a sharp breath, "I'm..." he started to apologize, but Kefir interrupted with a broad smile,
"I'm fine. I even got a day off for it. I didn't need it though, they healed me up right away."
Rerves placed his book down on Shon's table, "It was just really surprising, you know? But hey! Now we know why you're so cold all the time."
Shon looked down at the massive tome on the table, not wanting to meet their eyes. He didn't know what to make of what they were saying. There was no way it was okay. How could they be alright with a dangerous magic user that could kill them all on accident...
"We found these. We thought they might make you feel a little better," Thom whispered, stacking his book on top of Rerves' and opening it to a page he'd marked with a ripped piece of scrap paper. It wasn't a textbook, it was a record book. Shon furrowed his brows down at the page, reading 'Sir Patrich, served 4876-4929, died 4955. Paladin of Hengist, General. Air Sorcerer...'
Shon looked up to find them all smiling down at him. Zihler set his book down over Thom's, opened to another personal record, "This one was a fire Sorcerer, and they're supposed to be the most destructive."
Rehlien took Baradin and Kefir's books and stacked them with his own beside the open records. He ran his fingers over the slew of bookmarks sticking out of the closed pages, "All Sorcerers and Paladins." Rehlien said.
"Master Daunas said you would be back in a few days, but just in case we wanted to find these for you," Thom explained in a rush, "You know... in case the officers or Mages needed to be convinced..."
Baradin cleared his throat before he spoke, clasping his hands behind his back, "We haven't found any ice Sorcerers yet, but they're also the rarest, so that really shouldn't be surprising."
"Yeah, and there are plenty of fire who are crazy dangerous even when they're trained," Kefir added quickly.
Shon could feel a burning in his eyes and blinked furiously, looking away from his friends. He wouldn't cry.. he wouldn't. "Thank you..." he managed to croak out, finally giving in and rubbing his eyes. None of them commented on his show of emotion, or the frost clouding his window.
Rerves took the seat across from him with a smile, "So, what type of familiar do you think you'll get?"
Shon managed to stop blinking enough to arch an eyebrow. Hadn't Ivelm said something about a familiar too?
"I bet you it'll be something really lame." Zihler laughed, "To balance Shon's badassness."
"Squire!" the Paladin librarian barked, "Pushups! Now!"
Zihler groaned, mumbling as he stepped back to perform the punishment, "How do they always do that?"
"Divine hearing," Rehlien snickered as Zihler started the pushups, "Probably only works for curses, though."
"You can join him," the Paladin called without looking up from his book, and Rehlien groaned, dropping down next to Zihler.
"Seriously though," Rerves said, ignoring the boys huffing and puffing through their punishment, "Familiars are animals, they're supposed to be even closer to their Sorcerer than a Paladin and their mount! Like an extension of yourself. You can see through their eyes and talk to them with your mind. It's awesome!"
Thom actually blushed, confessing, "We read up on it a bit over the last two days..."
They knew more about what he was than he did. Shon actually smiled, starting, "I don't..." but chittering, like a particularly loud squirrel, interrupted him. The Squires all swiveled their heads to look around, Rehlien and Zihler jumping to their feet with the Paladin, who stood so quickly his chair fell over. The chittering turned to chirping, and then to a purr, as Shon finally found what was making the noise.
On top of the bookshelf closest to the door, sat a tiny dragon.
The size of a large barn cat, its scales were mostly brown but had streaks and blotches of red and orange, like the few deciduous trees that still held their leaves in autumn. Its leathery wings were folded against its back and its front claws grasped the edge of the bookshelf. Its long tail, complete with a scorpion-like stinger, flicked back and forth, its sinuous neck held high as it surveyed the library.
Some of the Squires let slip breaths of wonder, and the little dragon seemed to preen at the attention, holding its head a little higher and purring even louder. The Paladin, however, stepped around his desk and commanded, "Stay back, Squires," before he started chanting. The little dragon tilted its head at the Paladin, as curious as the rest of them. A moment later, the knight's spell washed over them to fill the room, sending a shiver down Shon's spine and making more than one of the other Squires shudder.
The little dragon let out another string of chittering and hissed down at the Paladin, whose eyes went wide as he announced in a breath, "It's real."
"How did it get in?" a senior Squire asked. Shon started to stand but then fell back again as images flooded into his mind. He watched a window opening from outside the fortress, and saw himself lean out. Then the image shifted, and he saw himself digging under his bed for a new uniform and towel as the him that was watching slipped out the door. It shifted again, and he saw himself in the shower, mist billowing off his shoulders before he dug through the piles of clothes left on the bench. It shifted again, and he darted into the library and behind the bookshelf, watching as he, Shon, walked in and sat down at the little table.
Shon blinked and shook his head furiously to try and clear it. All the pictures had flooded in so fast that no one even had time to answer the question or pose their own, "I let it in..." Shon whispered, then looked at the Paladin, explaining quickly, "I didn't mean to. I left my window open to air out my room and..."
"It's okay, Squire," the Paladin was actually smiling, and the little dragon whistled, "They're goodly creatures, though elusive. I've never seen a live one." the dragon leaned forward on the bookshelf, crouching down on its front claws and wiggling its hindquarters before it leaped into the air, opening its wings to spread as wide as it was long. It glided a lap around the library then hovered in front of the Paladin, chittering again and flapping hard enough to blow the man's short hair back before flying right towards the group of Squires around Shon.
It brushed Baradin's head with its claws, the boy ducking as it swooped down to land on Shon's table. The dragon looked from the open books to Shon, then, before Shon could pull back, climbed up his arm and to his shoulder, purring hard enough to vibrate Shon too. It weighed considerably less than it looked like it should, though its claws were sharp enough to pierce through his clothes as it climbed. It brought its face right up to Shon's eye, and though he tried to pull away, it followed him with its long neck, rubbing its cheek along his face. The scales were smooth and lacked temperature, like being touched by a gloved hand. It nuzzled his cheek again, then down his neck and into his shirt.
Surprised, Shon tried to throw the dragon off, but it just dug its claws into his sleeves, chittering angrily then clawing its way around to his back before lifting itself up to drape over his head. "What..." Shon started, but the Paladin cut him off with a laugh.
"I think that answers your friends' questions, Squire."
Shon was too confused to even arch an eyebrow at the man, but Rerves apparently understood what he'd meant because he said, "But I thought only animals could be familiars, like cats and crows and stuff..."
The Paladin nodded but then shrugged, "That's usually the case, but sometimes, rarely, there will be a Sorcerer who gets something a bit more special, like a winged serpent, fairy dragon, or in this case," he nodded at Shon, "A pseudodragon."
The pseudodragon purred, vibrating Shon's head. The Squires all gaped slack-jawed in awe at it, and Shon reached up slowly. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do, pet it? Push it off? But before he'd even touched it, it lifted its head, stretching its long neck out and nuzzling into his hand, obviously not caring that his skin was colder now than it had ever been.
"Damn..." Zihler muttered in obvious disappointment, "I was really hoping it would be a toad so I would have something to make fun of..."
The little dragon's answering twitter almost sounded like a laugh.
***
She groaned, rolling over and nuzzling deeper into Her pillow. Except it didn’t smell like Her pillow. Her eyes flew open, and She sat up. Then fell back down. That was stupid. Ran and Brom had probably taken more blood than usual again… except She couldn’t remember them taking Her for samples. Not for weeks and weeks…
“It’s alright, you’re safe here,” the kindly voice of a man spoke from Her right, and She sat up again, more slowly this time. A stranger in white robes with a sword embroidered on the chest reached out to help Her up, but after touching Her back he pulled sharply away.
She was too confused to apologize for burning him. “Where?” She asked, looking around the room. Like the stranger, it was covered in white. White blankets, white rug, and white curtains hanging to either side of an open window. A window that looked out onto a blue sky. She gasped, scrambling from the bed and nearly tripping over Her white gown. Of course it was white. How in all the hells did they keep it all clean?
She shook Her head and rushed for the window. The man behind Her gasped, his chair scraping loudly as he stood to follow. She pressed Her hands on the cold glass, staring up into the sky, “I’m on an upper floor!?” She grinned excitedly over Her shoulder as the stranger stared at Her, mouth hanging open.
Turning back to the window, She used Her arm to wipe the fog from Her heat off the glass, letting Her gaze trail down. She didn’t see the treetops She expected. Not close anyway. Instead, the forest was beyond a wide clear field, which in turn was beyond a tall stone wall with people dressed in silver walking along its top. She stood on Her toes to look down through the window. Between the wall and Her was a courtyard full of more people swinging things that glinted in the sun.
This wasn’t the tower. None of those people wore robes except the nice stranger. She spun to him, “My treasures, where are they? Brom? Ran? Where…” She saw a flash of red, heard a pained bark, and smelled iron. She fell to Her knees, grasping Her chest and breathing hard, remembering bits and pieces. He killed them. He killed all of them. Then what? She couldn’t remember...
“You are in a training facility of the Temple of Hengist, Hamerfoss, in Clearhelm.” a new voice, deeper, less kind though not cruel, spoke from the doorway. Lifting Her head, She saw the new man wearing a crisp, white, uniform, with a sword hanging comfortably from his belt. Hengist… so that explained all the white.
The kind man in robes had rushed to Her but dared not touch Her. Wise. With Her head spinning so fast, there was no way She was controlling Her heat properly. “How long has she been awake?” the new man asked the kind one.
“She just woke up, Major General,”
“He killed them…” She whispered, squeezing Her eyes shut, pushing back the rage and sorrow, trying to fill in Her memory. What happened next?
“It will be alright. You're safe here,” the kind man said again.
She pulled Her own hair, lacing Her fingers into the golden strands and squeezing. What had happened? She had run down the hall, but how had She gotten out of Her room? There were strangers in Her tower. These men? She glared up at the brown-haired man who looked down at Her, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you? What did you do to the Mages?” She could feel the hair rise on the back of Her neck and a familiar tingling where the collar should be.
The Major General remained calm before Her building fury, saying only, “Calm down.” It was a command backed by magic. She felt the power flow over Her and try to settle on Her mind. She could almost sense the peace it promised but shook Her head, clearing it of the spell.
He could've used his magic to hurt Her. Perhaps not with the collar as the Archmages did, but in other ways. And yet, he hadn’t moved from his spot, his hands still behind his back. She looked again at the sword of Hengist at his side. She'd read all about the gods. Hengist was good and noble, all about self-sacrifice and protecting the weak… A fool, the Mages had said. And yet his Temple ruled this province. The Mages of Her tower would never work with the Temple of Hengist. Or any kingdom order…
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She didn’t need his help to calm down, not when She had something to focus on. She shoved Her grief to the back of Her mind. “How did I get here?” another image flashed in Her mind, fire all around, a white path, blue eyes.
The Paladin didn’t answer right away; instead, he motioned for the robed man - a Cleric? - to bring him a chair. She tilted Her head curiously at him, but he only sat down with a weary sigh, then gestured towards the bed, “Please, have a seat.”
She stood, returning to the bed and eyeing the door over his shoulder. He hadn’t locked it. “We saw smoke from the woods and found you in a burning tower.” the blood drained from Her face, “We have recovered several bodies from around the structure, but there were no other survivors.” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fixing Her with a piercing stare, “What happened? What was going on in that tower?”
She brought Her feet onto the bed and hugged Her legs tight, “I don’t… I can’t remember…” a fire, the tower burning… But it was made of stone. Her fire couldn’t burn that hot… Could it?
“Sir Selibra,” the kindly Cleric sounded stern, crossing his arms and glaring down at the Paladin, “She has just woken up from what was obviously a terrible ordeal. Show some compassion.”
The Paladin, Selibra, actually looked ashamed, leaning back in his chair and clearing his throat, “I apologize, miss…” he drew out the last word, looking at Her expectantly. She tilted Her head. “What is your name?” he asked more clearly. She tilted Her head the other way. Were they going to play that game here too?
The Cleric hummed then said, “Please forgive him, miss, we are all very troubled by the events and deaths at the tower. The Major General merely got ahead of himself. If you could tell us your name, then we can let you rest and…”
“I don’t have a name.”
The two men blinked dumbly at Her, and She rolled Her eyes, “I knnnooowww,” She let Her legs fall back down, so She was sitting properly again, “But I don’t know it yet. As soon as I do, I'll tell you.” She assured them. The men exchanged looks as She glanced again out the window. Maybe She should've just told them what Brom and Ran called Her… But those weren’t names. They were descriptors. No better than ‘Firewyrm.’
If these Temple men were to be believed, everything was gone. She had no room, no books, no clothes, no treasures, and no name. What did She have? She pulled Her hair over Her shoulder and stared out the window as She stroked it. She had Her hair. They hadn’t cut it in months. She had Her body. She straightened Her posture, holding Her head high. And She had Her power—the fire crackling deep inside Her soul. The Mages had taken the first two. The third had destroyed them.
“You should rest,” Selibra stood, and Her eyes snapped back to him, “You can send for me when you feel ready to talk. Until then, focus on recovering your strength and your memories.”
He made it all the way to the door, even swung it open before She called out, “What are you going to do to me?”
Selibra turned back, his eyebrows raised in surprise. The Cleric placed a hand on Her shoulder, slowly and carefully, gauging how much of Her heat he could handle. She turned to him, and he let Her go. He'd held on longer than expected. “We will keep you safe, child.” the Cleric assured Her.
The Paladin grew stiff for a moment, then brought his right fist up to his chest, “By the sword of Hengist’s honor, we will safeguard your life and freedom,” Freedom? “Whatever injustices you endured there, you will find justice in the laws of Clearhelm.” She didn’t know what to say, and so, after an awkward moment of silence, Selibra turned for the door again and left.
She didn’t lay down. Instead, She walked back to the window. The view seemed to stretch on forever from so high up, higher than She'd ever remembered being before. Even when She used to climb the trees around Her tower.
Selibra hadn’t locked the door, but the Cleric bustled around behind Her, and the wall below Her clanked with armored knights. What was freedom anyway?
--- Table of Contents ---
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

My sister and I were always close. There was only a year difference in age, her being the eldest one. We liked similar things, had similar interests, and protected one another. We went through things together, like getting over a first boyfriend or realizing how bad period cramps actually are. I was grateful for this, to have someone that understood me so deeply. Of course there were fights too. A lot of “you stole my shirt” and “is that my lip gloss?” But what sisterly relationship doesn’t have a bit of bickering scattered in the mix.
But then… the bickering got worse.
I don't mean to complain, especially on the internet to strangers I’ll likely never know. But lately, my sister has been… extra hostile. It started simple enough. I’d bump into her in the narrow hallway that separated our two bedrooms. She’d groan like normal, but there was a sharpness to the “fake” insults she would sling at me. “Jesus, take up enough space?” There was an underlying venom in her tone. I was used to our average bickering, but this put a crater in my chest. “Sorry, sheesh.” I brushed her off and kept moving.
The day after, I asked her if I could borrow something from her closet. “You’re so fucking annoying, Alice.” She didn’t say it with a tone nor did she yell at me. She said it like it was simply a fact. Her words were flat and she didn’t even spare a glance at me. “What the hell?” I retorted, but she just ignored me.
I started trying to avoid her after that. I figured, maybe she was going through something that she wasn’t ready to talk about yet. It happens, right? Whatever it was, I didn’t want to be in the middle of it. More and more, my sister started shutting everyone out. She would go to school, come home, lock herself in her room and… that was it. We barely saw her around the house. Later in the night I would hear her door unlatch and the sound of her feet scurrying down the hallway. Probably to the kitchen, since she never came down for dinner.
When mom would ask what was wrong, she would shrug her off and call her annoying. Always buried in her cell phone, always with an attitude. I started taking notice of her appearance. Now my sister is pretty, I won't deny it. I was always jealous of how perfectly her hair laid in comparison to my cow-licked part. Her teeth were straight and shiny, and she was a swimmer so it was rare for her to be out of shape. But she started to look… sickly? Her face was always pale, with big black bags under her eyes. Her lips were cracked and dry, even her fingernails started to look brittle. She was chewing on them and ripping the skin along the side of her nail bed. She always looked nervous and her eyes would dart around the room like she was constantly looking for a threat.
Months went by, I started my sophomore year and she was a junior. She wouldn’t acknowledge me in the hall, and even her friends started to avoid her. They said she was gloomy and weird. A drastic change in comparison to the previous summer. She was vibrant, full of life, and usually lit up any room she walked into.
But now she was miserable to be around. She would hurl insults at us, and berate us every chance she got. She would walk by me and pinch me hard enough to bruise the skin. When I'd yell at her for it, I was simply met with a wide grin and a shrill laugh. She made me nervous, like I had to be on guard any time she was around.
This wasn't Gemma. Something was wrong. As her sister, I needed to do something. So, one day, I decided to go into her room and do some snooping.
Now hear me out, I know snooping is wrong. I would never normally invade someone’s privacy like that. But I knew just asking her wasn’t going to get me anywhere. So snooping it was. I started by combing through her closet. I figured if she were to walk in on me, I could just say I was looking for something to wear. I brushed my fingers gently over the hanging clothes. Vibrant colors of pinks, purples, and yellows swirled together as I shoved them to either side. Her clothes would tell me nothing. Especially since she didn’t wear vibrant stuff anymore.
Her closet was pretty empty, just shoes and hanging clothes. A few random pieces of paper but nothing of value. I emptied out some of her spare handbags to find empty tubes of lip gloss and tissues. Useless, I thought.
I moved on to her vanity. I searched each drawer carefully. Vials of lip gloss, palettes of blush and eyeshadow, but nothing to indicate something was wrong. I shut one in frustration and sighed. This is stupid, I thought. She’s a moody teenager. I turned towards the bedroom door when something under her bed caught my eye.
A little piece of paper jutting out from underneath. I moved to the bedside and dropped to my knees. The paper had nothing but numbers scribbled across it, but behind it lay a small… journal? Diary? I picked it up and felt it over. It was damaged, the binding was loose and the cover was worn down. The edges of the paper inside looked… burnt? I stared at the small book for a minute. For some reason I felt a lump of nausea climbing up my throat. This small, seemingly harmless journal felt like a rock in my palm. Sweat broke out down the back of my neck.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I murmured to myself. With a sigh I pulled the front cover back. My hands shook as I skimmed the pages. I swallowed hard. I guess I had every reason to be nervous.
On almost every single page, there was one message.
He is coming.
What the fuck does that mean? I blinked hard as I shifted through the pages. The handwriting on each page got worse and worse. It looked less like an average teenager’s handwriting and more like scribbles from a toddler as the pages went on. The writing started to look desperate the further into it I got.
He is coming
He is COMIIing!!!
HEe IS COMINg!!!
HE IS COMING!!!!!!!!!!!
More of the same as I scanned the pages. I was almost to the end when I heard a thump in the hallway. My heart fell out of my ass as I scrambled to shove the tiny book back under her bed. I flew to the closet and yanked the door open, shifting through her clothes. When her bedroom door swung open, for some reason, I felt uneasy.
“What are you doing in my room?” She snapped.
“Hey, Gemma. I was looking for something to wear.. I was going to a friend’s tonight.” I lied as calmly as I could. I could feel her moving behind me. I was scared she was going to get closer. This is ridiculous, I thought. She’s your sister. Still, I felt like a helpless gazelle being taunted by a lion.
I turned to look at her and was met with a gaze I have never witnessed before.
Her face was twisted into a snarled grimace. Anger seethed from every pore on her face. Her mouth fell open as she stared at me. “I-I’m sorry, Gem. You never used to care..” I suddenly felt very trapped and claustrophobic. Her bedroom door was closed and she stood between me and my one way out. Her head fell to the side as she blinked at me. “You’re useless.” She murmured faintly. “What?” I blinked at her. That was cruel, even for how Gemma was now. “You’re useless.” She shrugged as her head lay to the side in observance of me. It was like she was surveying how I was going to react. Her mouth started to fall open into a wide grin. “You’re useless and one day, Alice, I’m going to rip your tongue from your mouth.” She made a horrible gurgling noise from the back of her throat, followed by her usual shrill laugh. I stared at her in shock. Tears poured over my cheek as I shoved past her to the door. I had nothing to say, I just wanted to get away from her.
After that, we didn’t talk. If she walked into a room, I walked out of it. I didn’t know what was wrong with her, but I knew it had to have something to do with that weird little book. Her moods got worse, and it was making everyone in the house miserable. She started screaming at our parents, throwing glass plates on the ground. She would slam doors so hard the hinges would break. My dad had to replace her bedroom door twice. She would corner me or my mom, getting in our faces and taunting us. My mom tried taking her to therapy, but Gemma refused to go. She would sit in the car and scream until my mom let her out at the house.
And then one night.. Everything changed.
It was late, well past 11 pm. I was laying in my bed reading a manga I’d bought recently when I heard the familiar creak of her door opening. This was a usual routine for her now. She didn’t eat dinner with us, she would wait until we all went to bed and sneak down to the kitchen. I heard her soft footsteps walking up to my bedroom door when they suddenly stopped. I knew she was standing outside my door. My heart thumped in my chest. I stood up from my bed and hovered at the edge. I wanted to walk to my door, to open it, to just.. see her standing there. Hopefully apologetic and asking for forgiveness.
The thought made me laugh. And tear up, if I’m honest.
But instead I slowly approached my door. My heart was beating a mile a minute. There was no reason for me to be so nervous. She was just my sister. Her behavior had been weird, cruel even, but she hadn’t done anything too crazy for me to be fearful of her like this. My palms started to sweat and I felt a lump in my throat. I stood in front of the door and placed my hand on it gently. I stared at the doorknob, and I don’t know what possessed me to do it but… I locked it.
“Alice?”
Her voice startled me. I jolted in position. My mouth was dry and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. “Alice?” She tried again. It was her voice, definitely. But something about it seemed so unlike her. It felt almost… sinister. “Alice.” This time it came as a statement rather than checking to see if I was actually there. “Are you gonna let me in?” I felt her tap against the door. I still couldn’t bring myself to say anything. My hand hovered above the doorknob, but I wasn’t trying to let her in. I was prepared to grab it if she tried to open it.
Suddenly, she began knocking on my door. Relentlessly. It started as a few light taps, then turned into banging. She was banging on my door. The whole thing vibrated and shook as she smacked and pounded on the other side. “Alice!” She screeched. The doorknob started shaking violently. I grabbed hold of it with as much strength as I could. Tears brimmed my eyes and my heart felt like it was going to seize up. ”ALICE!!!” She was screaming now and my bedroom door was hanging on by a thread. The lock had already busted, and it was just me versus her holding it. I could hear my parents start to shuffle around, and I heard my mom’s voice down the hall. “Gemma? What’s going on?” She sounded half asleep and dazed.
Everything got sickeningly quiet. I took several quick breaths and tried to steady my body weight against the door. “Gemma?” My moms voice traveled down the hallway. I took a breath and pried my door open, just a crack, to try and see what was going on. I was met with an image that is seared into my brain.
Gemma was staring at me. But not just staring. Her mouth was hanging open in a twisted grin. It was an elongated smile, her lips were cracking and bleeding from how wide she had stretched her lips. Her eyes were like saucers. The white spaces of her eyes were filled with black that bore into me. She was making this awful… clicking sound? Like it was coming from the back of her throat. Every time she clicked her head would twitch and bob. Her face was nearly pressed against my door. Very slowly, she reached a hand up to touch her jawline. Her fingers were bloody, and I quickly realized it was because she had ripped her nails off. When I say ripped them off... I mean it looked like she had just peeled them from her nail bed. Quicker than I could react, she shot a hand out into the crack of the door. She snatched a fistful of my hair and with a sharp tug, she ripped a chunk from my scalp. I screamed as my hands flew to my head. She giggled like an excited little kid at how horrified I was. I slammed the door in her face. “Gemma what the fuck!” I smacked my door and let out a sob. What was happening to my sister?
I heard my dad from the end of the hall. “Gemma.. Are you okay? Can we take you to the hospital?” He sounded so desperate to help her. Sadness welled up in my chest for my parents. How could they fix her?
Without warning, I heard her take off down the stairs. Her feet smacked the ground and I heard her jump off the last few steps. I flung my door open and ran to my mom. She threw her arms around me and cradled me. My dad stood there for a minute, like he was weighing his options. Gemma was downstairs throwing glass around in the kitchen. Every few minutes we could hear her shrill laughter followed by those sick clicking noises. “You two, in the bedroom. Now.” My dad ushered us into my parents’ room. My mom and I sat on their bed while my dad paced back and forth. He decided to call 911, to ask for a mental health check. My mom sobbed quietly on the bed beside me. We could hear the loud crashing of glass and things being knocked over downstairs. I couldn’t get that horrible gaunt look out of my head. That wasn’t Gemma, I wouldn’t accept it.
Suddenly, everything stopped. The shattering of glass, the shrill laughter and the awful clicking sounds. Our house became deadly quiet. My dad stared at the bedroom door, his hands balled into fists. My mom kept an arm around me. There was a thump at the door that jolted all of us.
“Mommy?” It was Gemma. She spoke so softly she almost sounded like her old self. I went to call out to her but my dad motioned for me to stay quiet. Small, faint sobs traveled from the other side of the door. I could feel my mom tense beside me. There was a scratching sound, like she was scraping her nails down the side of the door.
Except it couldn’t be her nails… she had ripped them all off. I seized up at the idea of her dragging a knife up and down the door.
Gemma began to laugh. She wasn't just laughing, though. She was sobbing, and cackling, at the same time. It sounded like two different voices bubbling up from her throat. One would wail like it was in pain, and the other would laugh maniacally. I chose to believe the maniacal one was the voice dragging the knife across the bedroom door. She began knocking, or rather banging, on the door. "LET ME IN!" She shrieked, still heaving a mixture of laughter and sobs. The banging increased and I thought for sure the door would bust. My mom was pale and trembling beside me. My dad stared at the door, in disbelief or fear, I couldn't tell.
"You can't hide from me forever, Alice." She spoke so quietly I thought I made it up. I glanced at my mom who put a finger over her mouth, a sign for me to stay quiet.
Suddenly, an echo of footsteps bounded up the stairs from the end of the hall. “Police!” We heard someone shout. I felt my mom shift beside me as my dad approached the door. “Put it down!” We assumed he was talking to Gemma. We heard her giggle maniacally, and what I’m still assuming was a knife dragging back down the door. But following the shrill laughter was a plea that reverberates in my mind. "Please.. help me." She choked out a sob, but as soon as softness came it went. Her feet pounded against the hardwood floor of the hallway. “Stay put! I said don’t move!” But faster than I think anyone could react, we heard a sickening cackle followed by a heavy thud.
Silence.
My dad waited about 10 minutes before pulling the door open. Gemma was gone, but there was a trail of blood streaking down the hallway. It reeked and made my stomach turn in knots. I was panting, both from the smell and the fear. There was a man laying at the end of the hallway, an officer, and it was clear he had been stabbed. We followed my dad down the hall, carefully trying to avoid stepping in blood. The officer groaned and my mom heaved a sigh of relief that he was alive. Backup was called, and an ambulance. They said he was stabbed 11 times, and miraculously survived. I don’t think that was an accident, though. I think if Gemma wanted him dead, he would be dead. I think that softness... that small sign of weakness was actually Gemma trying to save him. From whatever she had become.
There was no sign of her, though police followed a trail of blood through our front yard and onto the street. Strangely enough, it ended there. There was blood on our front door and, I guess, when police arrived the door was already open. That warranted them to search inside, where they found busted glass and shattered windows. Blood was pooled in the kitchen, and handprints stained the wall from floor to ceiling like… like she had been crawling on it. Even the police were at a loss about what happened. They’re still looking for her but, I don’t think she wants to be found. Not by them anyway.
The next day we packed as much as we could to leave. I was stuffing things into my suitcase, snagging a few books from my shelf to bring along, when a familiar sense of dread washed over me. My hands began to sweat and my fingers trembled as I brushed over the tiny diary. My mouth felt like cotton as I skimmed through the pages. I hadn’t seen Gemma, but somehow, I knew she had put this diary in my room. I’m not sure when… but judging by the blood on the pages, it was sometime during the previous night. The pages all looked familiar, except the very last one. This is why I’m reaching out for help, advice… anything. Because I’m pretty sure she’s coming back for me. I’m scared… and I feel like no matter how far away we go, Gemma is going to know exactly where I am.
Hel. He's. he lp here me…. Alice. Alice. Alice. ALICE. ALICE!!!!!!!

So I know it sounds bad, but just read this and you will find out why we won't give her back.
Ok so rewind a few months ago (about 3-4) we was driving down the road and there was a van in the middle of the road and this guy was shoving a dog out of his car, at first we thought he was rescuing it or it was his and it got out, but he was pushing it out of the car and as soon as he seen us behind him he slammed the door shut jumped in his van and sped off, the dog was desperately chasing after him but he did not stop. For the next few weeks we noticed the same dog(a brindle and white female dog) running down the street with another dog(very overweight tan female dog) desperately looking for someone or something with NO collars or a harness on, we finally caught them, and we was 100% sure this brindle dog was the one that was abandoned. we put them on Facebook. Nothing came from that, and we went to the vet and got the brindle one checked for a microchip because she is fixed. We already have 2 dogs of our own and we have some cats, so we couldn't bring both of them in because we didn't know if they were sick or had fleas or ticks(we rescued kittens, so we can't risk that. We have already delt with a flea outbreak in both of our dogs and all of our cats because of bringing them in constantly) we do however have a outdoor kennel/run for our dogs (it has shelter, dog houses, straw or blankets, heater in the winter if they go outside, and more then enough food and water, plus a big area for them to run in) so we made the decision to put them out in the kennel until we got them treated for fleas and got our dogs some prevention, they only stayed out there for a few days and we constantly stayed out in the kennel to give them attention and feed them, my sister took the tan one, and so we decided to keep The other, one day she got out and we had to find her because we live on a very busy road, we found her in some neighborhood right behind us, one of the neighbors that we almost caught her at told us that she does have an owner, she showed us where he is and told us that he doesn't take care of his dogs(the brindle one and we later found out the tan one is also his), we wouldn't have taken her back to him, but it was his dog so we did. We took her there and he opened the door, and as soon as he seen her he said "I wish you didn't bring her back" and he also said he had the other one but we didn't take her and we definitely wasnt giving her back, the whole entire time we was there he talked badly about them "oh those darn dogs, they poop and pee everywhere, they knock the grandchildren down and chew on the walls!" None of that was true(we had brought them in, they didn't do that at all). Apparently she was his daughters dog and the other one was her puppy, his daughter and wife passed away and he didn't want the dogs anymore, he even said "Ive tried everything to get rid of them! I've called shelters and they won't take them!"but yet he still took her back(before telling us how much he wished we didn't bring her back and how horrible she was) We told him that we work in rescue and we could take her and get her a home, and he said "no, I'll give her another chance. But if she 'gets out' again you can just keep her" we checked her as much as we could for the next few months after we left, she was always outside chained up and in a chain link fence with no shelter, no shade, no food and water that we could see, and no one ever came outside to her. Well just yesterday about 2-3 months after we gave her back, we seen her AGAIN no collar and no harness, just roaming the street with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, so we caught her again, this time if she hears yelling or shouting she just freaks out, she starts whining and tucks her tail and runs and hides, she didn't do that last time. She is different, but still a sweet and friendly dog. We might keep her, and if we don't we will re-home her, we will not even consider giving her back.
Are we in the wrong for this? We haven't told the pathetic excuse of an owner that we found his dog again, but we think he knows considering we drove by his house to look for her the day we seen her and he was peeking out the door like a coward, he has a limp or something but that's not an excuse to just abandon your dog not one time but two times!
(Sadly we have no proof that he said this, so we don't really know if we can report him to animal control, considering it would be our word against his)
What would you do in this situation?

Hello Everyone,
I intended to write a long preamble, but then decided it's not worth it. Suffice it to say, things happened and I'll likely query this project before querying my political fantasy.
To those curious: I queried this book 1.5 years ago to 24 agents. I got exactly 0 bites. It can still go to 20+ other agents - maybe more, if they open.
The query and words you'll see have gone through minor changes, but are by and large the same I sent back then. The changes include:
- moving the housekeeping to the beginning and cutting it down (it used to include words like "complete" and had some other extraneous details).
- cutting down my bio, including the mention that I live in Poland, rephrased to the more vague "I'm from Poland"
- minor tweaks of word choice and sentences in the pitch - I think I did 3 little changes?
So... I guess this was still quite a long preamble for PubTips' standards. But that's it, that's why I'm asking for your feedback again so soon.
​
Query:
Dear [Agent],
Vampire SHERLOCK HOLMES meets THE WITCHER in THE MONSTER WITHIN, a 97,000-word adult fantasy mystery. It’s a standalone with the potential to be the first in a trilogy.
Arkady is a century old vampire born to be a monster like his parents, but he refuses to inherit their taste for bloodshed. In a world where humans are rapidly industrializing and rediscovering the supernatural at the same time, he’s spent the better part of the last forty years slaying strigas, drowners, and wraiths. Nothing excites him like a good murder—to solve—until a mysterious criminal appears in his city, putting his resolve and skills to the test.
When a striga kills one of the guests at a party Arkady attends, he becomes the prime suspect. The leading officer of the investigation lost her father to a vampire, making her even more prejudiced against his kind than most humans. Arkady teams up with her to prove his innocence. When another demon strikes in the city’s heart, he realizes the striga’s turning was more than a simple tragedy. Someone is desecrating graves and summoning monsters that prowl the streets and prey on the hapless humans. They must be stopped.
Every new demon means new clues in the puzzle that spans the entire city, but also lives lost and a step closer to the criminal’s elusive goal. If Arkady solves the mystery in time, perhaps he can finally prove to himself and everyone around that he’s not one of the monsters. And if he can’t, well, the more people demons kill, the stronger they get—and they can prey on vampires too.
I’m from Poland and I used the region’s history and culture as inspiration for my plot and world building. Please see the first [number] pages of my manuscript below.
Thank you for your time and consideration,
[signature and contact]
​
300 words:
The scent of blood was distracting. Arkady was the only person who smelled it—he could tell that by listening to the merry chatter of the guests around. As he closed his eyes, their laughter and footsteps became almost as loud as the beating of their hearts, and the scents seemed to amplify.
Coming in with the wind. He felt the slightest breeze wafting through the ballroom. From upstairs.
The scent was not the kind caused by a cut finger. It was deep and pungent, whispering of a human’s heart ripped open and the blood spilling free. It was a small victory, really, that looking into the nearby platter, his eyes remained pale blue instead of turning red.
Now what? Arkady picked one of the glasses of wine, careful to avoid touching the silverware. Go there?
He was positive that he could maintain control even when faced with a massacre. He was not his father. However, it would be hard to explain barging into a room full of blood and gore to other guests. They’d only just entered the hall; many were still in the antechamber, shedding their overcoats. Inevitably they would wonder how he’d known where to search or even that there was something to find. It was safer to let someone else discover the body. Sooner or later, the scent of death would reach their mortal senses, and before that happened, Arkady could freely investigate the mansion, asking questions people would later hesitate to answer.
He strolled through the crowd as the trickle of newcomers dried up. The ballroom was simply the hall of a large mansion, now with tables set by the walls and many of the doors open to let the guests into the sitting rooms and the library. One wing led to the kitchens and servants’ quarters, and it was constantly crossed by servers carrying appetizers. [...]

Hi guys
Is there a specific name for the sub-type of emotional abuse that makes you feel "less than human"?
Lately I've been thinking about the specific things my mom would do or say to me, and I tried to find a name for it on the internet since "emotional abuse" seems too broad. The most accurate term I could find is "moral abuse", but even that doesn't really capture it... so I wanted to ask you if you had any idea what kind of sub-type of abuse this could be. Labeling what happened to me would be really helpful... I guess this would help make more sense of it.
(I'm using the voice of the abusive parent - in my particular case, my mother - to give you some examples of the things she said to me:)
"You destroyed my youth and my marriage. Do you remember that time when you begged me as a little girl to divorce your father? It just shows how wicked you are!"
"You wanted to destroy our family!"
"We would have been happy without you."
"Your father couldn't stand you. He often complained to me about how insufferable you were."
"You made your dad sick. You killed your dad." (She told me this a month after my dad died of cancer.)
"You are evil."
"Don't approach me. I don't like your energy, you just make me sick."
"Why did you make this desert for me? Do you want to poison me? I'm sure you would be able to do that. I trust nothing coming from you." (She then threw the desert I made for her for Mother's Day in the garbage bin.)
"I only wish you the worst. I want you to suffer once you leave this home. Like a beggar in the streets, miserable and abandoned. That's what you deserve."
(speaking to my baby sister:) "I forbide you to talk to your sister. She's evil and she doesn't love you. No, don't cry, because your sister doesn't deserve it."
"You made your baby sister sick!"
"You are so autistic." (To be clear: I don't believe that autism should be associated with any insult. But in this context my mom wanted to make it clear that I am not behaving like a "normal" human being.)
"You are not really a human being, are you?"
"You are a monster."
"You are a psycopath."
"Do you want to kill me? I think you would be capable of killing someone."
"You make me want to kill myself."
"You are incapable of feeling love. I pity those that get too close to you."
"It doesn't surprise me that you have no friends at school! I wouldn't want to hang out around a person like you."
"You want me to love you? I can only love you if you help around the house! And you do nothing! (It isn't true, I do help, but she denies it when it suits her.) I cannot love you as long as you continue to behave like a parasite."
"It is very sad to realise that I have invested so much of my energy and time for a monster like you. And what do you give me now in return?"
"I just can't love you anymore."
"You only fake your sadness. You cannot feel real emotions."
"I can't believe you started self-harming. Now you want to guilt-trip me? You want to manipulate me into being sorry for you?"
"Nobody likes you." (She told me this after observing me having a mental breakdown during Covid.)
"Don't call me "mother". You are no longer my daughter."
​
There are many other things she did that I won't mention here.
I am not sure if it's only BPD or a combination of BPD and NPD, but my mother's personality disorder has certainly made my childhood and teenage years very miserable. I don't remember much of my childhood because I've spent the majority of the time dissociating. Before talking to anybody about this, I was convinced that I was indeed "less than human". When I was a bit younger (15) I would even reflect on the possibility of being tortured and killed and it surprisingly didn't bother me.
I was conditioned to think that I was an evil creature and that I only deserved the worst. Now that I understand that my mother's behavior is abnormal, I don't know what to do. I still feel like I'm not really fully human, and that I don't deserve to be treated with dignity. Let alone be loved.
So to repeat again my question: Is there a specific name for the sub-type of emotional abuse that makes you feel "less than human"? What do you think? Have you also experienced it?

Feels bad not being able to have a unique build without throwing. The current passives can stay and still boost the mobility of the associated skill, but the +0 versions of every transformative mobility passive (anything that isn't just a speed boost on foot) should be basekit, with maybe the exception Wall Kick probably
Instead, just buff the absolute crap out of those specific terrain passives if we won't be able to see the map while in lobby (we should also be able to Raider in lobby before ready-up). +100% for double speed on foot for specific areas of a map wouldn't even be that crazy tbh
Midair Jump, Sprint, Jump power boost, Hovering Device, and Slide at the very least
An argument can be made for Swimming Savant, the Vehicle boosts, or Landing Delay Null (without the speedboost or something) but I feel like the swimming should be included as well.
Would make map terrain a lot more interesting and interactive as well, and overall a lot more fun instead of needing to dedicate 3/4ths of your passives every game because you literally can't move otherwise

Selling digital codes. All codes redeemable through Movies Anywhere unless stated otherwise. iTune,Vudu and Google Play doesn't give the format listed. Paypal preferred. I can also do Cash App and Venmo.
iTunes, Google Play or Vudu Movies
After Yang (Vudu, Google Play) SOLD
Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (iTunes, Vudu) $2
Bad Grandpa (Itunes, VUDU) $2
Bumblebee (Itunes, VUDU) $2
Cabin in the Woods (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Call Jane (Vudu, iTunes) SOLD
Chuck Season 5 (WB) $4
The Commuter (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Daddy’s Home 2 (Vudu, iTunes) $2
Deepwater Horizon (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Divergent (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Divergent Series: Insurgent (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Django Unchained (VUDU) $2
Dredd (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Everything Everything All at Once (Vudu) SOLD
Ex Machina (VUDU) $2
Gambler (iTunes, Vudu) $2
Hacksaw Ridge (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Hands of Stone (Vudu) SOLD
Hansel and Gretel Witch Hunters (New Unrated Cut) (Itunes, VUDU) $2
Hateful Eight (VUDU, Google Play) $2
Hostiles (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Hunger Games (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Hunger Games Catching Fire (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Hunger Games: Mocking Jay Part 1 (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Hunger Games: Mocking Jay Part 2 (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Imitation Game (Vudu) $2
Jack Reacher: Never Go Back (iTune, Vudu) $2
John Wick (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
John Wick 1 and 2 (Vudu) $3
John Wick: Chapter 3-Parabellum (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
La La Land (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Lords of Salem (Vudu) $2
Mad Men The Final Season Part 1 (Vudu) $4
Mandela (Vudu) $2
No Escape (Vudu) $2
Now You See Me (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Paranormal Activity 3 (iTunes, Vudu) $2
A Quiet Place (VUDU, iTunes) $2
Rambo: Last Blood (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Rogue (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Silver Linings Playbook (VUDU, Google Play) $2
Sinister (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Southpaw (Vudu) $2
Star Trek Beyond (Itunes, VUDU) $2
Star Trek Into the Darkness (Itunes, VUDU) $2
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (VUDU, iTunes) $2
Top Gun Maverick (iTune, Vudu) $3
Transformers: Age of Extinction (itunes, Vudu) $2
Transformers: The Last Knight (iTunes, Vudu) $2
Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
Walking Dead The Complete Fourth Season (VUDU) $3
Walking Dead the Complete Fifth Season (Vudu) $5
The Wolf of Wall Street (Vudu, iTunes) $2
Wonder (VUDU, Google Play, Itunes) $2
World War Z (iTunes Vudu) $2
Standard Definition:
Bad Boys for Life (2020) SD $2
Call Me By Your Name (2017) SD $2
Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017) SD $2
The Night Before (2015) SD $2
Superfly (2018) SD $2
HD
Alita Battle Angel (2019) HD $3
Almost Christmas (2016) HD $3
Amazing Spider Man (2012) HD $3
American Reunion (2012) HD $4
Back to the Future Trilogy: Back to the Future (1985) HD Back to the Future 2 (1989) HD Back to the Future 3 (1990) HD $8
Bad Boys (1995) HD $3
Bad Boys for Life (2020) HD $3
Bad Boys 2 (2003) HD $3
Bad Moms (2016) HD $4
Batman (2022) HD $4
Batman: the Long Halloween Deluxe Edition (2022) HD $5
Best Man Holiday (2013) HD $3
Black Adam (2022) HD $5
Blockers (2018) HD $3
Bourne Legacy (2012) HD $4
Casper (1995) HD $3
Colombiana Unrated (2011) HD $3
Curse of Chucky Unrated (2013) HD $3
Darkest Hour (2017) HD $3
Despicable Me (2010) HD $4
Despicable Me 2 (2013) HD $4
Despicable Me 3 (2017) HD $4
Die Hard (1988) HD $3
Dolittle (2020) HD $4
Downton Abbey: A New Era (2022) HD $4
8 Mile (2002) HD $4
Fast & Furious 9-Movie Collection: Fast and the Furious (2001) HD 2 Fast 2 Furious (2003) HD Fast and the Furious Tokyo Drift (2006) HD Fast & Furious (2009) HD Fast Five Extended Cut (2011) HD Fast & Furious 6 Extended Cut (2013) HD Furious 7 Extended Edition (2015) HD Fate of the Furious (2017) HD Fate of the Furious Extended Director’s Cut (2017) HD F9: The Fast Saga (2021) HD F9: The Director’s Cut (2021) HD $20
Fast & Furious 6 Extended Edition (2013) HD $4
Fate of the Furious (2017) HD $3
Fifty Shades Freed (2018) HD $4
Fifty Shades of Grey Unrated (2015) HD $4
F9 The Fast Saga and F9 Directors Cut (2021) HD $4
Free Guy (2021) HD $4
Furious 7 Extended Edition (2015) HD $4
The Girl on the Train (2016) HD $4
Greatest Showman (2017) HD $3
Gunman (2015) HD $3
Harry and the Hendersons (1987) HD $3
Hobbs and Shaw (2019) HD $3
Hop (2011) HD $4
How to Train your Dragon: 3-Movie Collection HD [Includes: How to Train Your Dragon, How to Train Your Dragon 2, How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World] $9
Insidious: The Last Key (2018) HD $4
Isle of Dogs (2018) HD $3
Jason Bourne (2016) HD $4
Jordan Peele 3 Movie Collection: [Includes: Nope, Us, Get Out] HD $10.
Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle HD Jumanji: Next Level HD $7
Jurassic Park (1993) HD $3
Jurassic World (2015) HD $3
Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom (2018) HD $3
Jurassic World: Ultimate Collection Jurassic Park (1993) HD Lost World Jurassic Park (1997) HD Jurassic Park 3 (2001) HD Jurassic World (2015) HD Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018) HD Jurassic World: Dominion (2022) HD Jurassic World: Dominion Extended Cut (2022) HD $15
Kick-Ass 2 (2013) HD $3
Les Miserables $4
Lone Survivor (2013) HD $4
Love Simon (2018) HD $3
Lucy (2014) HD $3
Madagascar 3 Europe’s Most Wanted (2012) HD $3
Maze Runner: The Death Cure (2018) HD $3
Megan Leavey (2017) HD $3
Minions (2015) HD $3
Mummy (1999) HD $3
1917 (2019) HD $3
Nobody (2021) HD $4
Non Stop (2014) HD $3
Nope (2022) HD $4
The Nut Job (2014) HD $3
Oblivion (2013) HD $3
Peter Rabbit (2018) HD $4
Pitch Perfect (2012) HD $3
Pitch Perfect 2 (2015) HD $3
Pitch Perfect 3 (2017) HD $3
Predator (2018) HD $3
The Purge (2013) HD $3
Ride Along (2014) HD $4
Secret Life of Pets (2016) HD $3
Secret Life of Pets 2 (2019) HD $3
The Shape of Water (2017) HD $4
Sing (2016) HD $4
Snow White and the Huntsman Extended Edition (2012) HD$4
Sound of Music (1965) HD $3
Spider-Man No Way Home (2021) HD $4
Spotlight (2015) HD $3
Star (2017) HD $3
Straight Outta Compton (2015) HD $4
Ted: Unrated (2012) HD $3
This is 40 (2012) HD $4
Ticket to Paradise (2022) HD $4
Trolls World Tour (2020) HD $3
Truth or Dare: Unrated (2018) HD SOLD
2Guns (2013) HD $3
Unbroken (2014) HD $3
Vivo (2021) HD $4
Warcraft (2016) HD$4
West Side Story (2021) HD$4
Widows (2018) HD $3
Woman King (2022) HD $4
Zombieland (2009) HD $3
Zombieland Double Tap (2019) HD SOLD
4k Movies
Batman (2022) 4K $5
Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) 4K $5
Elvis (2022) 4K SOLD
Home Alone (1990) 4k $5
Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom (2018) 4k $5
Mortal Engines (2018) 4k $5
Secret Life of Pets (2016) 4K $5
West Side Story (2021) 4k $6