“Pete knows what he saw, Martha!”

“Bunch ‘a frightened children ain’t exactly the--”

A door slammed shut.

Clark Kent, only a young boy, squeezed his eyes shut until it hurt and pressed his hands against his ears until his temples throbbed.

One step after the other. Heavy. Crunching grass.

“You think I’m an idiot, Martha?!”

“Now, I never said that.”

The pained look on Clark’s face softened -- softened, so it could be remolded into a whimper while the rest of his body stiffened.

“He ain’t done nothing wrong, all I’m saying is--”

“All you’re saying is that you’d rather not talk about it!”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

Then why wouldn’t they stop talking! All of these voices, the thousand-million voices screaming at him, and all Clark could hear were the two arguing over him! Him!

A long, creaking groan. Wood shuddering.

“CLARK!”

The word, his name, knocked the other two sources of dismay from his head, an instant of soothing comfort before the pain took hold again and even more intensely, now as if he were pressing his head against a bass booster. “Pa!” Clark cried out, only to regret it as quickly as he had acted on the impulse.

“CLARK!”

His father called for him again and, judging from what should have been the imperceptible way the wind whistled, began dashing around in search of him; it took nothing less than an eternity for Pa to finally find him and one thunderous thwump after the other to finally lay eyes on him.
Pa pulled down the last barrel of hay -- Clark had stacked some around himself in an attempt to muffle the noise -- before breathing a sigh of relief; little did he know, it was a veritable wind storm to his son. “Remember…” he made sure to whisper, his small crisis finally abetting, if only a little. “This is all you. You’re inside your own head and that’s making it so much worse. You are the one in control.”
Clark’s only response was a strangled noise and to curl up further into himself.
To that, Pa felt his own throat tighten. “So open your eyes, son, get on back to the rest of the world… I’m right here.” He extended his hand, gently nudging Clark.
Again, no response and, again, Pa’s throat tightened, twisting and winding until the strain became too much to bear, and finally snapped loose under the pressure.

“DAMNIT, CLARK!”

He burst out, the sudden snap of tension giving each word a trembling quality as it all came pouring out. And then Clark flinched, like all boys do when they’re scared or hurt or both, and the dam was suddenly closed again, sealed with a silent promise.
“Son, I--” Pa stammered, his voice the sort of wreck so mired with cracks and creaks that it was a miracle it held together at all. “I didn’t--”
It was then that Clark finally stirred, hands at last unwrapping themselves from around his head, which peaked up ever so slightly to look out beyond his hay-fort at his father. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice so small that Pa struggled to hear it.
His body screamed a thousand different things to say, but he knew that just was the last thing Clark needed right now. So, fighting back to the calm, measured tone he had managed just a scant few moments ago, Pa said, “You best not be sorry, you ain’t done nothing wrong,” and pulled his son out from his refuge.
“Seriously?” Clark seemed dumbfounded by the statement, so much so that he even resisted the tug, if only for a passing second. “You seen what’s happening back there?” He jabbed a finger towards the house. “It’s all me. Literally. They’re arguing about me. ‘Cuz I-I’m some sort of freak or something!”
Pa was quick to correct him. “You ain’t no different from any other boy I ever met.”
He was met with a piercing glare from his son.
“You know what I mean, aside from your gifts--”
“How the hell’re these supposed to be gifts!” Clark threw up his hands in his best attempt at exasperation, but even an ear without super hearing could hear how his throat stiffened with each word.
Pa smiled, shrugging. “Able to race the car, leap the barn in a single bound…”
“But I don’t want to do any of that!” he said, voice finally breaking. “And w-when it comes with stuff like… this…! I just wanna be Clark Kent: Pete and Lana’s friend. Your and Ma’s son. Not some freak!”
“Clark--!” A cross of anger and dread flared in Pa’s voice, and he caught himself from pulling Clark into a hug. Swallowing hard, he instead summoned the warmest smile he could, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“You are my son, but you are so much more than that too.”

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DC Next Proudly Presents…!

SUPERMAN: HOUSE OF EL

The Return of Superman - Part 3, Moving at Super Speed
By JPM11S
Edited by ClaraEclair & Deadislandman1
< Next>>
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To say silence hung thick in the air would have been an understatement, because even silence was something more than being frozen in a single, inescapable instant: Kal-El staring down the man clutching his throbbing hand, the man’s friend looking on flush-faced, and the rest of the establishment bracing for whatever happened next. It was a rare thing that Jon Kent found himself slipping into Bullet Time on accident -- a state of heightened awareness where the world seemed to grow still around him -- and an even rarer thing that it should happen when a bright red cape wasn’t slung around his shoulders; simply put, as an instinctual reaction to being threatened, there needed to be, well, something that could threaten him, and there weren’t very many things that seriously could: Kryptonite, which Jon was confident wasn’t in play, and being yelled at, which he couldn’t have even known.
It was then that it dawned on him, so obvious that the muscles and tendons along Jon’s arm tensed in anticipation of slapping himself upside the head before he stopped himself -- a small thunderclap born from his own embarrassment was likely to only make the feeling worse. ‘Just an adrenaline rush…’ Jon explained to no one but himself. ‘Because… you know… watching dad do… that.’ The recently appeared doppelganger of his father had broken a man’s finger to “teach him a lesson” -- something his father most certainly would not have done; what he would have done, and what Jon was currently doing, was take a deep, relaxing breath, easing the stress away so that he could “hit play” on the rest of the world.
It came as something of a mild surprise when… nothing happened; Jon panicked, doing a double take as the terrible thought sprung into his mind: What if this was something else, some time-weapon unleashed just then on the city? Or what if he had failed to slow himself down? Would he be forced to wander the world a waking ghost? Jon shook his head, knocking such silly notions from his mind -- and also getting the attention of Natasha Irons.
“Something up?” she asked, broken from her spellbound trance.
Jon blinked. “Nope. Nothing.” The Ace ‘o Clubs could be a little rough around the edges, so what didn’t even qualify as a minor scuffle at the bar hardly registered with many of the patrons, who merely kept about their business as if nothing had happened -- because, to them, nothing had. Jon shook his head again, chidding himself for thinking that a cursory glance in that general direction had been any real indication of interest; his own bias, he supposed.
Kal-El returned to the table, his sheer weight and size making it known despite the fact that Jon’s attention had been elsewhere. No one said anything, and it took the visitor from another world a few passing seconds to realize that fact -- like they were all waiting for him to do something.
Kal looked up, a look of restrained puzzlement on his face.
Lois’s lips went thin. “What was that?”
“What was… what?” Kal-El’s eyes darted across everyone’s face, searching for an answer.
Irons nudged him gently.
“Wait, really?” he almost recoiled, tilting his chin up and cocking his head, confusion finally overtaking him. “I--”
“Was wrong.” Lois finished the sentence for him. “The hell were you thinking?!”
Jon and Natasha exchanged looks.
Kal-El shrugged it off. Literally. “The way I see it, a broken finger or two isn’t going to impede him in any real way, while also being something he’s not going to just forget.”
“So that makes it alright?!” insisted Lois, leaning forward.
“...yes?” he answered. “Though I feel like that’s… not the answer you wanted.”
“That’s not how we do things here.”
At that moment, with just how each word was frozen in a block of ice, Jon could have swore his mom had spontaneously developed Frost Breath; ironically, that was what inspired him to finally intervene. “You know, mom,” he explained, “In class, the professors always talked about how different all these cultures were from each other: food, clothing, language, medicine, you get the idea… Their sense of justice, how they handled punishments and such… that was one of the big ones too. Judeo-Christian morality versus something like Hammurabi's ‘an eye for an eye.’” He paused, making sure his mom was actually listening. “So, you know, on Kal’s Earth, maybe that was perfectly acceptable. Heck, there’re a lot of people here who would agree with him.”
Lois stopped to consider her answer, though it seemed more an imitation of the action than a genuine attempt. “He’s here now, and that wouldn’t make it right if he wasn’t.”
“Listen, I’m really sorry if--” Kal-El raised his hands in apology.
“No, no,” Jon waved him off, gaze never breaking from his mom. “You can’t just force your values onto another culture.”
“Like he forced that guy’s finger back?” she countered, rising to the bait. “Seems like that’s exactly what you’re talking about.”
“If I was talking about him right now, sure, but I’m talking about you,” insisted Jon. “You’re just doing the same thing you’re complaining about him doing.”
Lois lowered her chin, motioning towards herself. “So, wait, I’m the one who’s done something wrong here?”
“The both of you, yes.”
“So you’re saying it was perfectly alright?”
“I just said it wasn’t.”
“Oh, so you’re not judging him based on your own values?”
Jon shook his head, grinning. “You’re trying to distract from the point!”
“No, I just think the entire argument is flawed, since by criticizing someone like that, you’re inherently impressing your own values on them,” she explained. “You know, the thing you’re taking issue with.”
“But you’re from the same culture as I am: he isn’t.”
“He isn’t sitting right here, yes…” Kal-El groaned.
Lois and Jon kept going like he wasn’t.
“He’s impressing his own cultural values on someone from another.”
“Right, and I agree, but I’m taking issue with you right now, because--”
“Because it’s time for this conversation to end,” Irons finally interjected, much to the audible relief of Kal and Natasha, whose shoulders visibly relaxed. “Seriously, I think I speak for all of us when I say I can hardly follow what you two are going on about.”
“We’re saying--” Jon and Lois began in unison, only to be cut off with a raised hand.
“We’ll manage without it,” he chuckled.
There was a brief lull in the conversation, a time where the most activity was Jon’s eyes scampering about the place and the beat of Kal-El’s fingers against the table. Eventually, Jon’s gaze locked onto something or, more accurately, the lack of something.
With his mouth hung open just slightly, Jon asked, “Hey, did anyone notice Mr. Bibbowski?”
“Yeah,” Natasha spoke up, glancing around the table. “Didn’t you guys’s see?”
She took the blank stares as a no.
“Didn’t you guys catch the sign-note-thing?”
More blank stares.
“Okay, seriously, two of you have literal super senses and the other two are, like, super geniuses.” Nat waved her hands around. “You know what, doesn’t matter. I’m getting off topic. Bibbo’s in the hospital. The sign was about raising money.”
“What?” Lois pressed, immediately leaning forward. “What’s wrong?”
His gaze a million miles away -- or, more accurately, only a few -- Jon answered first. “Lung cancer. He’s in Metropolis General. Room 414.”
Irons chewed his lip, then looked up directly into Jon’s eyes. “First thing tomorrow, you pay him a visit, ‘kay?”
“But I was just going to now…?” Jon cocked his head. “What don’t I know about?”
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In retrospect, the thought that Kal-El would need somewhere to stay really should have occurred to him sooner than it had -- well, that might have been putting it a little too generously: had occurred to him at all. To be fair, though, it wasn’t every day that you met your deceased father from another world, though, also to be fair, he dealt with weirder things on a regular basis.
The Fortress of Solitude, Superman’s icy abode at the top of the world and one of the scant few remaining pieces of Krypton, seemed the most logical place to house Kal while they worked on returning him -- and everyone else -- back to the proper Earth, and it seemed that Jon wasn’t the only one who thought so. Following their malaise-laiden departure from the Ace ‘o Clubs, it was the immediate destination of the not-so-merry band, traveling up across the globe to it’s frosty doorstep, where they needed Jon to heft the Fortress’s giant, golden key above his head and unlock an equally gargantuan front door. The key was made of Supermanium, a metal forged by Clark from the heart of a dying star, and weighed an incalculable millions of tons, the only security measure needed despite it sitting out in the open.
Jon slotted the end of the key bearing the Crest of El into the groove, turning it to trigger the rumblings of icy shards as they peeled back to reveal a wall of blinding, cleansing white light. The group took a step forward, entering into another world -- almost literally: born of materials not of Earth and minds born far from it, the Fortress resembled something best described as an alien, crystalline landscape. The ground was a maze of large, roughly hexagonal spires with smoothly shorn tops, each of which peaked at a slightly different elevation and tapered off in the distance to create a sheer drop; at the edge of that cliff sat a circular array of crystals gently pulsing with light and humming just barely above perception. Placed around what was assumedly the central chamber of the Fortress, judging from the hewn hallway entrances at the perimeter, were trophies and mementos from Clark’s decades-spanning career as Superman, items ranging from the mundane, like Lex Luthor’s shrinking ray, to the absurd, such as psychic sand from the dimension of Quarm, to the profound, like the precious Bottled City of Kandor, a shrunken Kryptonian city rescued from the clutches of the vile Brainiac many years ago.
Kal-El loosed a low whistle. “Wow,” he said, eyes flitting about the place, jumping from the looming pillars that came together to form an arched ceiling, to the large, gaping voids dotted around where the spires didn’t conjoin. “It’s so… clean.”
“Come again?” Jon quirked a brow.
With a flutter of his cape and a look that Jon almost mistook for melancholy, Kal-El raised several inches above the ground and began drifting between the various exhibits on display. “Clean. See, I… I live in my… Fortress of Solitude, so--”
Jon finished for him. “Like a dirty room.”
“Exactly,” Kal looked up from the display and flashed him a subtle smile. “Like a dirty room.”
Lois, unable to fly and wearing shoes ill-begotten for her husband’s arctic-O.S.H.A.-violation, carefully stepped across one hexagonal tile to the next until she finally approached the black-suited Superman. “Little lonely living at the top of the world, no?”
“It is called the Fortress of Solitude.” There was a slight edge to his voice, though Lois could tell it wasn’t one pointed towards her. “Maybe, I wanted to be alone.”
Lois cocked her hip, rested her hand on it, and considered for a long moment pressing deeper, giving in to the gut screaming at her that this was the thing to pick at. Her heart, though… her heart counseled now was not the time, and she had long since learned the wisdom of always following her heart. “If you’re looking for solitude, we might have brought you to the wrong place,” she suggested instead.
In the same manner Jon had not a moment ago, Kal quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”
“A thousand apologies.” From across the room, a voice not unlike his carried, though distorted to an almost unnatural bass and strained with what was best described as someone fighting hard against a thick accent. “If I had been expecting guests, I would have prepared something for you all to enjoy.”
The comparisons to Clark and Kal-El didn’t end with just the man’s voice; while his face and form were the same general shape, his skin was ashen and craggy, like a smooth stone. With every step forward he took, the mass of rippling, coiled muscle underneath his purple-blue Superman t-shirt strained against their confines. “Ah, I see we have another visitor, unless my brother decided death didn’t suit him.” He inclined his head, placing a large hand over his even larger chest. “For now, you can call me Bizarro.”
Natasha, a gleaming smile on her face, chimed in. “We’ve been working on choosing a name!” she said, bounding towards the behemoth and wrapping herself around one of his hulking arms.
Bizarro returned the affection as best he could. “It was Nat’s idea. We were watching Space Trek: Pathfinder one night and--”
“And I was there too,” Jon interjected.
“And Jon was there too,” he chuckled. “But one of the characters was searching for a name and, considering the circumstances, it seemed appropriate that I do the same.”
Floating over towards Bizarro, Kal-El dragged his sight up and down the man, the doppelganger of his enemy from another world, eyeing him with a mix of reservation and curiosity. Eventually, Kal paused on the Crest of El worn on his chest. “You’re not like mine.”
Bizarro nodded. “In one key respect, yes. I’m not as--”
“Dumb.”
“Slow,” he finished, correcting him with a side-eyed glance. “While Jon was working a case with the Flash, Mister Allen devised a way to ‘speed up’ my thought processes.” (Author’s Note: See The Flash #19!) Bizarro paused for several more long moments, looking at Kal like he had to him not a second ago before shaking his head, seemingly perishing the thought. “You’ve met me,” he said, smiling. “Have you had the chance to meet our other housemate?”
Kal cocked his head. “Other housemate?” He threw his eyes behind Bizarro, expecting someone else to enter the chamber, but no one came. “Another reformed villain?”
“Your cousin,” Jon interjected, taking a step forward. “Kara. She got here only a few months ago.”
The spark of joy on Kal’s face lived up to its description: appearing in a bright instant, only to vanish as soon as it came, replaced now by a deeply furrowed brow, emphasizing the lines on the man’s face. “How’s she taking the adjustment? Losing one world, then another, I can’t--” Kal cut himself off when he saw Jon’s eyes widen slightly and his mouth open in response: he didn’t need to wait for the correction he was about to receive. “She’s not from another Earth like me… Where is she? I’d like to meet her.”
Lois shrugged. “She’s busy in National City right now, if I remember correctly, but--”
Irons stepped behind Lois, his hulking form framing her. “But we’d like to wait a minute and figure out how to break the news to her first.”
“No,” Kal said, every muscle in his powerful body visibly tensing, rearing. “She needs my help! You don’t understand what it’s like! You’re not like her! None of you, not really. Only I can understand.”
With a withering look, Irons replied. “You’ve never even met her, how can you know better than her own family?”
“I am her family,” asserted Kal, beginning his ascent into the air. “I helped my Kara through this once already, I can do it again.”
“And you’re the problem! You know how much she’s going through right now?!” Irons shouted up at him. “You died! The person she was sent here to protect! Dead! And now here you are in the flesh and blood! She’s got a lot to process already without that!”
There was a lengthy bout of silence between Kal and everyone else, only coming to an end when the otherworldly Man of Steel asked, “And who’s going to stop me if I try anyway?”
Jon swallowed.
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To be continued in Superman: House of El #4, Don’t Call her Supergirl!

Race Information

• Name: Boston Marathon
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Time: 2:40:XX

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Under 2:42 (PR)	Yes
B	Under 2:45	Yes
C	Finish strong	Yes

This is a bit late for a Boston recap and very long for a casual read (consider yourself warned). It’s kind-of about the race, but it’s also just a bunch of semi-connected thoughts and feelings about training, injury, results, and what comes next that have been floating around for me over the last couple months.

Prologue

I started running during the pandemic, transitioning away from my long-time sport of Ultimate Frisbee to try to run a sub-5 mile (report here). I did it, and it was good. And I had caught the running bug. Ready to extend my distances, I declared to my coach that my next goal (after a short hiatus to play one more season of frisbee) was to qualify for Boston. Boston was, in fact, the only marathon I had ever spectated: I remember sitting at Coolidge Corner in 2009, watching runners speed by. I was young and springy then, and had no desire to run farther than 3 miles continuously. But now it was 2021, and time had run out on my fast-twitch abilities: it was time to go long. I wanted to run Boston, which meant I had to run something else - and hopefully just one “something else” - first.
We decided to target Eugene for 2022, to qualify for Boston in 2023. I began building up my base in the fall, testing my weekly mileage limits. I remember a “long run” of 70 minutes the first Sunday after I returned to regular running. I nearly gave up and walked 60 minutes in. But the next Sunday I did 80 minutes, and it was better. By the end of the fall, I was comfortably hitting 50 mpw and 2 hour runs. By the time Eugene came around, I had sixteen weeks of generally healthy training and six 20+ mile runs in my legs. felt ready, and I was: I ran a 2:42. I was a freshly minted 36 at the time, so with the BQ time for my age group and gender at 3:05, I was firmly in the clear.
I'll pause here to say that although I am far from an elite runner, I am also keenly aware that many people work their asses off for years to qualify for Boston, and that some never do. I worked hard, too, and my history of sports can’t have hurt, but at the end of the day I know I have some (unearned) talent for running that made my path to Hopkinton easier than it is for many. I will leave it here in saying that I have immense respect for everyone who laces up and puts in the work, regardless of their pace and outcome.

The Build

After Eugene, I had turned my attention away from the roads for about six months. I put the bank of fitness I had developed to work on trails and on mountains. I got to cover (and bonk on) a few of the many thrilling backcountry objectives in British Columbia, and even ran a 50k in Washington. (It went about as well as most people’s first 50k, which is to say that I ran out of food, water, fully supermanned down a trail, cramped every muscle in my lower body, and shuffled it in. Huge success.) But when December came around, it was time to get back to the roads.
Working with the same coach, my road fitness came back surprisingly quickly. I was hitting high-water marks for volume, pushing my average up to the high 60s/low 70s. I felt, well, not good, but I did feel fast. I remember hammering out a 30 minute tempo on the track at 5:41/mi, a workout I never would have been capable of during the Eugene build. I was tired after, but confident and elated. I got compliments from the youngsters rolling 600 repeats around the track, and their coach. I felt like I was on track for a new PR, and not just a PR but a crushingly fast time, maybe somewhere in the mid 2:30s. But somewhere, offscreen, ominous music played. I had my wings on, and I was headed towards the sun.
The sun took the form of a work trip to Bozeman. I flew over Thursday, found a gym to do a tough 60 minute “mountain fitness” workout that evening, ran for an hour Friday morning in the snow, and skate skied 2.5 hours hard on Saturday. Sunday morning, I took on a treadmill workout that was something like 7x(7 min @ 5:41/mi, 2 min off). After two intervals, I knew I didn’t have it. I stepped off the treadmill. I’ve failed workouts in the past, and I’ve been able to move on, but for some reason this one stuck. It stuck, as they say in the South in my craw. Annoyed, I went back to my hotel room and tried to regroup. With my muscles already starting to tighten up with the effort, I resolved to partially salvage the day with an easy run around town. But it didn’t feel like I had salvaged anything. So, after an 8-hour, two hopper flight home, I made another attempt to soothe my bruised ego. With night falling, I hit the pavement, starting out easy but picking up speed. Tired, tight, and without any food or water, I hammered away, deep in the no-man’s land of Zone 3. I had heard the warnings. I paid no heed. I was invincible, and I was going to reclaim the fitness I had missed out on that morning. I ran the distance of a half marathon and got home after dark, and you know what? It felt good, at the time. It felt

The Injury

The next morning, I woke up in a pile of melted wings. My left leg couldn’t take any weight without shooting pain and was tender to the touch around my mid-shin. I felt the dubious benefit of immediate and regretful clarity on what had gone wrong. My ego had let me believe that I could or should try nail a workout on a foreign treadmill at altitude (Bozeman!) after an exhausting couple of days. Failing that, it had convinced me that I should make up the workout with a long, unfueled run. Ego is a hell of drug.
It took several days for me to accept that I was injured. Looking back on my training log, it seems insane, but I ran the next few days on my program, including a track workout. My leg would throb and ache, but I would get through it, only to wake up in more pain that would abate just enough for me to try it out again that afternoon. Eventually, I fessed up to my coach and she immediately sent me to a PT and had me stop running for a week. I thought this was excessive at the time, but in retrospect I think it might have saved the build. The PT I saw said I had a stress reaction, probably brought on by a combination of weak glutes (it’s always the glutes) changing my push off and some good old-fashioned overdoing it.
For the next month, I cross trained with uphill biking, skate skiing, and water jogging. We re-introduced running gradually, starting with once every three days, then every other day, then two out of three days. The shin seemed to get better slowly, and we gradually reached a kind of homeostasis: I knew how far I could push it, and as long as I didn’t overdo it, it seemed to recover slightly faster every time. But the injury had come at a bad time, and missing most of February meant that I couldn’t race the local half marathon I had planned on or a local trail race (though I still participated in them as long runs).
By mid-March, I was feeling mostly better. In addition to Boston, I had also signed up for Chuckanut 50k, a trail ultra renowned for its smooth runnable trails and its timing: it often drew some of the elites of US trail running as an early season opener. I didn’t feel quite ready to hammer the downhills, but if anything, limiting myself kept my quads intact almost through the end of the race. I didn’t tear the roof off, but I ran most of the way and felt pretty good doing it. When I woke up the next day with the usual soreness, but no acute pain in my shin, I knew I was going to finish the build and run an honest race at Boston.
The only problem was that a week’s recovery brought me to March 24: only about three weeks before Boston. With a weeklong taper, shorter than usual by necessity, we really only had two weeks to get into Boston shape. My coach put on a masterclass in programming: she designed workouts that required exactly as much as I could give at the time, while preparing me for the unique qualities of the Boston experience and course. One in particular stands out: 4x(15 min MP effort, 8 min T effort, 4 min jog), but on a route that included a 300-foot hill, which I ended up going up and down 3 times. The key was to maintain effort going uphill, but to not go any faster than 6:10/mile downhill. That and another long run gave me two 20+ milers in the books. That was it.
Going into Boston, I knew I didn’t have the sharpness I had even three months ago. I had started the cycle hoping to PR, maybe by a lot, but before the marathon I set more conservative goals: my C goal was to get to 20 miles (where my mom would be) feeling strong; my B goal was to get under 2:45. My A goal was to PR. I wasn’t feeling brave: I wanted to minimize the possibility of blowing up, while still giving myself a fighting chance at a one-second PR if I was having a really good day.

The Marathon

There’s not much to say about Boston (the marathon) that readers here haven’t read before. The logistics are impeccable, but overwhelming for a first-timer, the fanfare and the fans are legendary, and the course is the running world’s version of the Strait of Messina: athletes must navigate Scylla’s ego-tempting downhills and Charybdis’ ill-timed uphills to survive. While it is literally impossible to make it to the Boston marathon start line without having at least one hundred people tell you to not hammer the downhill at the start, people still do it every single year.
In a way, I was lucky have reckoned with (and lost to) my ego early in the build. I came to Boston healthy but wary of too much self-belief. We set a target and hard limit on the pace I would set through the first 15k: 6:15s would be ideal, but at most 6:10s: I wouldn’t run faster than I had down my training hill. At the start line, a small inspiration struck. Boston sets bib numbers by qualifying time, and my 2:42 at Eugene gave me something in the 1100s. Within my corral, I found the people around my number and then walked about 30 meters back, placing myself closer to folks wearing 1500s. I reasoned that if most people overcooked the start, then I wanted to be with the folks overcooking it at a pace I could be comfortable with.
Once the race started, it was virtually impossible, for the first couple miles or so, to shift my pace much above or below what the people around me wanted to run. If thought at first that I had let myself sit too far back: I ran a 6:35 first mile down the two-lane streets of Hopkinton. But as the crowds thinned a bit, I found a rhythm, and clicked off my first 5k at around 19:14, around a 6:12/mile pace. The next 5k, still downhill but slightly less, was a 19:12. The third was 19:13. Rolling through the small towns that make up the western side of the Boston metro area, I didn’t feel good, exactly, but I also didn’t feel bad. I wasn’t sure what kind of day I was having. That’s the odd thing about the marathon, so far as I can tell: you might know you’re having a bad day early on, but deciding that you’re having a good day is inviting disaster.
A quick aside: it can’t be overstated how impressive the Boston crowds are. There was no point on the course that I can remember where we were without support for more than 25 meters. Wellesley and Boston University are extreme even in that context, though: you actually feel the roar at those points in the course before you hear or see it. Bless you, you drunk and joyful undergraduates.
By 25k, we were through half and quickly approaching the Newton Hills. After a long downhill, we turned at the fire station and started to charge up. I shortened my stride and began to pump my arms, lifting my effort from a 6 to a 7 but no higher. I didn’t look at my watch until the end of the first hill, so you can imagine my shock when I saw that the last mile had been a 6:06. I cruised the lengthy downhill after the first hill (nobody really tells you about those) and regained my composure. The second hill was punchier, and brought me down to a 6:10, but I still felt good, and was starting to pass quite a few people. The third hill was mostly forgettable, which left only Heartbreak. While not objectively a big hill, it’s big enough for that point in a marathon, and you definitely see it coming. I was determined to hold my early race pace through it, though, and pushed the effort up again. I was breathing hard, but I got to the top still holding a 6:11 pace.
Even at the top of Heartbreak, I wasn’t fully ready to believe that this was going to be a really good day. I’m told that much better runners have lost entire races in the so-called “haunted” mile following Heartbreak, and I wasn’t sure what my quads had left in the tank. But while it still didn’t feel good, I kept pouring in gas and they kept responding. The last few miles of the race are a bit of a blur: I remember pushing the pace down to 6:06, then 6:00, then even below 6:00 for a mile or so. There are a couple very short and punchy climbs just before the last turns that took something out of me, but by the time I turned left on Boylston I knew I had more than the balance left over. I started sprinting at the turn, only to realize that the 600 meter long stretch was a bit more than I had bargained for. Still, I closed respectably: I ran last mile was a 5:41, exactly what I had worked on maintaining in that early tempo workout.
I finished in 2:40:XX and negative split by about 2 minutes. It poured like crazy 15 minutes after, while I huddled under a restaurant awning. I watched other runners come in. Some, like me, had the elation of a good day to soothe their tired muscles and joints. Some had no such balm, and were left to untangle the end of a long, challenging cycle from a disappointing final result. I was reminded, too, that it’s all relative: as I sat under the awning, I heard a runner near me lament his 2:35, while another came in over the moon with his 3:15. Kipchoge had a bad day, and he finished more than half an hour before I did. We are comparison machines, and expectations versus reality is the oldest routine we know.

Epilogue

The marathon is a harsh race, and I feel genuinely lucky to have had good experiences on my attempts so far. Two months on though, my body still feels beat up: I’m struggling to recover, my knees ache, and my workouts seem to be going the wrong direction. I don’t think I gave my recovery the respect it deserved, so I am once again tangling with my own hubris.
Assuming I can rest enough to properly recover, I also find myself in the position of figuring out what’s next. Boston was a big goal for me, and I didn’t set any real running objectives after it. All I have on my schedule this summer is a couple of local trail and road races. I thought Boston would be my last marathon before I moved entirely to the more forgiving pastures of trail running, but I’m also tempted to see how far I can push the needle on my road running before age claws my aerobic fitness back from me. I’m 37 now, and well aware that at some point the PRs will no longer be on the table, but I think that day is still a few years off. If you were me, what would you aim for next?

"With a trial that Renzo the Destroyer has started, and the Unseen now on high alert, Willow and I must continue our part in helping Thunder rescue Evie and undermining the Unseen's Grand Scheme. This is now venturing into some disturbing levels of dark." The Order of the Vault walks down the Kevolution Materia-infested halls of The Renzone, searching for the next member of the Unseen to beat up and steal a key from. The groaning of Cube Monsters is heard throughout the halls of The Renzone, audibly getting louder as the group nears the source. Once they return to the main party area, the Cube Monsters in the area immediately grow angry at the sight of the Vault Guardians. Ableton shoots a few Fiends with his Shadow Tracker and takes them out, while Thunder mows down loads of them with his Havoc Suppressed Rifle. The room is cleared... for now. Thunder looks around and speaks. "We should find that thieving fox, Stray. I have a suspicion that he's nearby." With everything Thunder said, the Vault Guardians all follow him, as they continue looking through the halls. After what seemed like a while, the group uncovers a room, almost looking like the main hall in Kenjutsu Crossing. Thunder looks around and speaks. "The architecture looks similar to the main palace at Kenjutsu Crossing. The palace the River Guard resides in. Stray has to be nearby." As they wander the room for a bit, Ableton is then surprise attacked. Suddenly a whirlwind appears, bringing a duo of deceiving Unseen members. Who are these two? The Unseen's thieving tricksters, Stray and Highwire. Thunder looks at Stray and responds. "Masaki! I should've known. Your stunt at Steamy Springs could've potentially killed your sister, Mizuki. What dark intentions are you playing at?" Stray looks at Thunder and answers him. "Dark? Dahlia is having me do this for fun. She doesn't want any other syndicate getting in her way of taking over Mega City, and so do I. The Fox Clan was only slowing me down, and now I will help the Unseen rule over Mega City." Thunder pulls out his two knives and yells. "'I'll make you eat those words, you smug punk!" Ableton and Willow run into battle beside Thunder, as the three charge towards Stray. Highwire jumps in front of Stray and pulls out an Enhanced Havoc Shotgun, as she fires a shot into Thunder's chest. Thunder is knocked to the floor, as he looks at the shotgun in Highwire's hands. "That's Evie's Enhanced Havoc Shotgun! Where is Evie, you bunny-eared psycho?" Highwire points the Enhanced Havoc Shotgun at Thunder head and responds. "That's none of your concern. The Unseen should've gotten rid of your Peace Syndicate long ago." From behind, Ableton quickly Crescent Kicks Highwire and knocks her to the floor. Rinzler is then immediately shot by a blast of ice, as Stray channels some Zero Point energy into his Foxfire Edge and concentrates it into some form of an elemental attack. Ableton is frozen into an ice cube, as Willow rushes Stray with her katana, rigorously swinging at her enemy. Stray knocks Willow back, as he swings the Foxfire Edge and unleashes three ricocheting balls of Riftstorm energy. The balls ricochet around the arena, as Willow manages to dodge the attack. Amara runs into battle with Willow, as the two ladies now proceed to take down Stray and Highwire. Highwire pounces onto Amara and attempts to shred her apart with her Plasmacore Claws. Amara retaliates by whacking Highwire in the head with her Goldenbane Mace. Willow clashes with Stray, as he tries to skewer her with his Talisman. "Rip this ghost apart, Saigai Dagger Dance!" Stray summons his Talisman, as Willow evades the converging daggers and knocks Stray back. The battle is nearing its closure, with the Unseen's members on the losing end. Stray pulls out a smoke bomb and faces Willow. "You'll never win, Willow... I still have a trick or two up my sleeve..." Stray then throws the smoke bomb at his feet, as it malfunctions and releases the smoke too early. Stray begins to cough and react to the smoke bomb. "Dammit! That was not supposed to happen!" Amara immediately kicks Stray in the head and knocks him to the floor. A symbol appears above Stray, as the Kevolution Artifact begins to react. Two keys down, another two to go. Thunder faces the group and speaks. "Another key has been found. We must hunt for the others." As the Order of the Vault leaves the room with Thunder, Stray yells out. "You will not succeed! Styx will make sure of it!" Thunder then reenters the room and kicks Stray in the chest, as he then leaves the room again. Ableton looks around and comments. "Whoever Styx is, he appears to possess the next key we need. We need to move quickly. This area has a bad atmosphere." As the group wanders around the halls of The Renzone, they stumble by a room with the lights slightly dimmed. Some voices are heard inside the room. "Triarch Nox expects us to ensure that the Kevolution Artifact is back in our possession, and at full charge." Geometrik's voice is heard, as he responds. "Exactly, Bytes. Nothing that us three can't do." Bytes brushes his hair and speaks. "For we are Team Too Black, Too Strong..." Geometrik speaks after Bytes gets done. "Too black..." Zyg then immediately speaks after Geometrik. "Too strong..." Bytes then speaks after Zyg is done. "Two blacks? Two strongs?" Zyg turns to Bytes and responds. "Nox wants us in the Dark Room. It's a matter most exigent." A corrupted Rift opens in the room, as Bytes, Geometrik, Zyg, and Choppy all exit the room. Outside the room, Ableton turns to Willow and speaks. "Well... That was an interlude. We should find Styx and collect our third key." The group continues wandering the halls, until they begin hearing voices down the hall. "Hello... Is someone there?" Thunder listens out to the voice and responds. "Hold on... Evie?" Thunder slowly walks towards the origin of the voice, as Ableton responds to Thunder. "Thunder... I don't think..." As Thunder rounds a corner, he notices what appears to be Evie enclouded in some smoke. Thunder faces the anomaly and speaks. "Evie! We're here to rescue you!" Willow turns to Thunder and yells. "Thunder! That's not Evie!" The creature slowly loses Evie's shape and begins to unveil its true form, revealing it to be a Cube Monster. Splode shoves a grenade into the creature's mouth and blows it up. Thunder looks at the creature and comments. "A Mimic... Styx must be close..." The group searches the area, looking for Styx. This mysterious Unseen member must be hiding somewhere. Styx then fires a shot at Ableton and misses. Styx walks out and reveals himself to the group. He then speaks, as he lets out an unnerving grin. "Looking for Evie, Thunder? Dahlia wanted to make sure Evie is getting the dark treatment from the Unseen. You should've left our client alone." Ableton faces Styx and responds. "We're not here for your demented game, Styx. Give Evie back to us and we'll promise not to severely beat you to a pulp." Styx stares at the group and responds. "Over me and Dahlia's bodies will we even consider giving Evie to you. You Peace Syndicate scumbags always think there should be peace in Mega City. Always enforcing peace as if you call the shots around here. Let our chaos do its thing and fill Mega City with darkness." Some doors open beside Styx, as a few Cube Monsters flood into the hallway. The next battle begins. Thunder charges for Styx and attempts to tackle him, while Ableton and Willow assist in clearing out the Cube Monsters. Styx pulls out his Combat Shotgun and begins firing shots at Thunder, as he skillfully avoids the shotgun blasts. Thunder then kicks the Combat Shotgun out of Styx's hands and picks it up. Thunder fires a shot into Styx's chest and knocks him to the floor, alongside blasting his chest open. Inside Styx's chest is an orb of condensed Kevolution Materia. Ableton looks at Styx's blasted open chest and comments. "Yikes! That's some serious indigestion!" Styx gets off the ground and speaks. "Yehehehehes! Let's gohohoho!" The Kevolution Materia orb inside of Styx's chest begins to react, as he appears to be making the Cube Fiends near him stronger, turning them into Elite Cube Fiends. Thunder observes the chaos and responds. "Look out! Styx appears to be making those Cube Monsters stronger. We need to take him out before he makes those Cube Monsters too strong." With no time to waste, the Order of the Vault helps Thunder with taking down Styx. Ableton and Willow rush for Styx, as he knocks them both away with some quick shoves. Amara headshots an Elite Cube Fiend with The Dub, while CRZ-8 slices some Cube Fiends apart with his Lucky 8's. A Cubed Blightfather crawls out of the stomach of a Cube Fiend, as Styx uses the Kevolution Materia in his chest orb to turn it into an Elite Cubed Blightfather. Ableton groans in exhaustion at the sight of the Elite Cubed Blightfather. "Oh... You got to be kidding me..." Willow reacts alongside Rinzler. "Nice! Styx managed to amp up something that was already tough to kill." The Vault Guardians now have to focus on killing the Elite Cubed Blightfather before taking on Styx. Splode sticks a Clinger onto the Elite Cubed Blightfather's face, as he yells out. "Chew on that, ugly face! Yeah!" The Clinger explodes, dealing heavy damage to the Elite Cubed Blightfather and staggering it a bit. Willow then executes a quick slash of her katana at the Elite Cubed Blightfather's head, killing the bipedal terror. Thunder walls over to Styx and kicks him in the groin, knocking him to the floor. A symbol appears above Styx, as the Kevolution Artifact begins to react. One key remains, and the Order of the Vault can advance to the trials next puzzle. As the Kevolution Artifact absorbs the symbol, Styx gets up and screams, aggroing loads of Cube Monsters throughout The Renzone. A large horde of Cube Monsters run down the hall, ready to feast on the Vault Guardians and Thunder. Everyone makes a run for it, hoping to find safety from the horde. Within the horde, Stray, Highwire, and Renzo the Destroyer all chase down the Vault Guardians, alongside several Renzo units. Once they head out towards the elevator that leads into the Dark Room, Dahlia stands in front of the group and knocks everyone back with her Code Carver. The Order of the Vault are surrounded by Cube Monsters, Renzo units, and various Unseen members Ableton and Willow defeated earlier. Dahlia looks at Thunder and speaks. "Looking for Evie, Thunder? I've handed her over to a special ally of mine. He won't like it if the trial is finished before he can set anything up." Everyone is now at a standoff, as Thunder faces Dahlia. "If the Unseen chooses to be enemies to Mega City, then the Peace Syndicate will fight like we always have." Thunder pulls out his Kaiju Cutter and begins wildly attacking Dahlia. Dahlia pulls out her Lock-On Pistol and unloads half its mag into Thunder, only to miss. Thunder then roundhouse kicks Dahlia away from him, causing her to bump into Renzo. Dahlia yells out to the Cube Monsters in rage. "Don't just stand there! Kill that Peace Syndicate scum!" After Dahlia gets done yelling, Styx lets out a loud scream, as the Cube Monsters immediately run full sprint towards Thunder. Thunder pulls out his Havoc Suppressed Rifle and mows down the horde charging at him. As Thunder manages to kill the last Cube Fiend in the horde, Dahlia rushes him with her Code Cleaver, causing Thunder to retaliate with a swift kick to her face. Dahlia is knocked to the floor, as a symbol appears above her. The Kevolution Artifact reacts heavily to this, as the wall of Kevolution Materia blocking the elevator door dissipates. Thunder faces the Vault Guardians, as they all quickly get inside the elevator. Dahlia screams to the other Unseen members in anger as she watches the group enter the elevator. "Quick! Shoot them!" Stray, Highwire, Styx, Renzo the Destroyer, and the other Renzos all begin firing their guns into the elevator. Willow quickly tries to close the elevator door, as more gunfire riddles the interior. After a few more seconds of shooting, the elevator immediately breaks, causing the whole thing to begin falling at rapid speeds. Ableton looks at Thunder and yells. "Not good! The elevator took some extreme damage from that gun show!" Thunder faces Splode and screams. "Whitty! Activate the elevator's emergency brakes." Splode runs over to the buttons and begins mashing the emergency brakes button. This attempt works, as Splode successfully activates the emergency brakes and slows the elevator to its normal speed. After a few minutes, the elevator arrives at its stop. Everyone walks out of the elevator, as Ableton looks around. "Alright. I see a large tunnel with cave-live features... but where is this Dark Room?" The Kevolution Artifact reacts, as Ableton begins hearing more voices. Ableton speaks out, as the Kevolution Artifact provides the next step of the trial. "Light the Beacons..." Willow looks around after hearing what Rinzler said and comments. "Hmm... Nothing in here looks... beacon-ish, and I suspect that we fell into something worse." Everyone looks around the area, looking for anything that could help in understanding the current step in the trial. Splode uncovers a generator near some wood pallets and turns it on. Some lights on the ceiling turn on, brightening up the area a bit. Splode faces Rinzler and speaks. "I think these generators might be key to this step. We should probably find more of them and turn them on." Everyone continues walking down the tunnel, looking for more generators that Splode mentioned. Amara uncovers another generator near some large CUBE chunks, with Thunder finding another towards a pile of broken debris. More lights turn on in the area. As they near the end of the tunnel, Ableton turns the last generator on, as all the lights turn on, revealing a large steel door blocking the path. The Kevolution Artifact begins to react heavily, as the steel door opens. Once the door fully opens, the Vault Guardians enter inside. At the center of the room, there is a small, shallow body of... water? Splode walks towards the liquid and steps into it. "You know? This stuff seems pretty viscous for water, I'll tell y'all that." Willow turns to Splode and responds. "Whitty... That's not water. That's... blood..." As soon as Splode heard what Willow said, he looks below him and notices the slight redness the liquid has. Splode screams out in disgust and steps out of the liquid. Ableton looks around the area, until he hears Evie's voice yelling from above. "Guys! I'm up here!" Thunder looks up, and notices that Evie is strapped to a large machine, pumping Kevolution Materia throughout the Dark Room. Thunder yells out to Evie in response. "We're here, Evie! We're coming to get you!" Triarch Nox's voice is heard, yelling at Thunder in rage. "No, you're not!" One of Bytes' Chromatic tendrils grabs the Kevolution Artifact out of Rinzler's hands, as Bytes hands the Artifact over to Nox. Nox looks at the group and speaks. "No! Somehow those insects have passed my trial! No matter... The Kevolution Artifact has sufficient charge for what it needs to do." Triarch Nox walks up some stairs around the walls of the Dark Room, as he places the Kevolution Artifact into the device. Triarch Nox looks at the group below him and yells. "Awaken my soldiers! Slay these pawns of the Peace Syndicate!" Zyg jumps towards the blood pool at the center, as the liquid begins to transmogrify, projecting what appears to be the Mothership's interior within the liquid. Evie yells out with worry. "Watch out! It appears this Triarch Nox guy is intent on defending the device while it charges up. Don't get killed out there!" Zyg pulls out his Ray Gun and fires at the group, making sure to defend Nox's device. Ableton tries to Mantis Leap around the area to pick off Zyg, until Choppy throws down an Alien Nanite and stops Rinzler in his tracks. Thunder begins firing his Havoc Suppressed Rifle at Zyg, as he takes slight damage from Thunder's attack. Zyg then fires a laser from his eye and sweeps the floor with it, causing Thunder to jump and avoid the attack. Amara rushes into Zyg and blasts him with The Dub, launching Zyg and Choppy into the walls of the Dark Room. Zyg jumps up and out of the group's reach, as Bytes drops down. The liquid in the center transmogrifies again, as the liquid now turns Chrome. Bytes conjures the Nothing's Gift in its Siren's Spear form and begins to attack Ableton with it. Rinzler quickly dodges the attack and counterattacks by pistol-whipping Bytes in the face with his Shadow Tracker. Bytes then summons some Chromatic tendrils to attack the Vault Guardians, making sure to keep them away from him. CRZ-8 pulls out his Lucky 8 Blades and slices through the tendrils to attack Bytes. "Epicness approaches!" CRZ-8 kicks Bytes in the groin and uppercuts him onto the upper catwalk above the arena. Triarch Nox yells, as Geometrik drops down into the arena. "Intruders! Tell the Peace Syndicate I will not be stopped!" Once Geometrik drops into the arena, the liquid in the center transmogrifies again, as it begins to project the Sideways from within. Geometrik wildly swings his Sideways Scythe around, attempting to slice everyone apart. Willow grabs ahold of the Sideways Scythe and tries to wrestle it out of Geometrik's grasp. Willow succeeds, as she throws the Sideways Scythe away from Geometrik. After losing his weapon, the CUBE fragments around Geometrik begin to glow golden. Splode walks towards Geometrik with his Shrapnel Axe equipped. "This fight's in the bag. Time to beat him up and shut down the machine." Before Splode could land a hit, Geometrik fires a large laser out of his golden CUBE head and almost hits Splode. Splode immediately reacts to the attack. "What the hell? You have a new attack?!" Amara charges an attack with the Goldenbane Mace, as Serpicus the Goldenbane begins glowing on Amara's back. Geometrik charges for Amara, as she winds up with her Goldenbane Mace and whacks Geometrik in the face. The impact of the Goldenbane Mace was enough to send Geometrik crashing into the wall and losing the fight. Triarch Nox looks at the Vault Guardians and yells. "You will not deny Darkeon his return!" Triarch Nox jumps down to the arena, as Cube Monsters begin to manifest around the blood pool. Triarch Nox yells, as the Cube Monsters all turn to face the Order of the Vault. "Rise, warriors! Slay the unworthy!" The Cube Monsters charge for the Vault Guardians, as Rinzler shoots down some Cube Fiends within the horde. Willow teams up with Amara Luxe and Splode to take down a Cubed Blightfather, while Thunder slices a Corpse Eater apart with his knives. Once the Vault Guardians clear out the horde, Triarch Nox begins yelling. "No one will save you from Darkeon's wrath! I will not fail my plans!" As Nox gets done yelling, someone begins speaking from within the blood pool. "No, Nox. You did everything according to MY plan. You brought me back. And once your construct repairs my fractured body I shall thank you, by wiping this island from existence." It appears time has run out, and Darkeon has partially returned, in a slightly messed-up form. Both Stray and Highwire break into the Dark Room, as they confront the Vault Guardians. "Now you did it! You will not escape the Dark Room alive!" Darkeon sets his sights on Stray, as several clouds of Kevolution Materia fly out of the blood pool and into Stray. Stray succumbs to the Kevolution Materia, as his white coat turns black with CUBE runes all over, and his eyes start glowing purple. Darkeon begins speaking from Stray, as he yells. "Rest assured... I will destroy this world just as soon as I kill you here!" Dark Stray summons Saigai Dagger Dance, as he attempts to attack everyone with the converging daggers. Highwire runs towards the Vault Guardians in fear and speaks. "That weird... CUBE thing just took control of Stray! We gotta get him out of Stray!" Thunder faces Highwire and responds. "If we save Masaki for you, you better help us contain that Darkeon freak." Highwire nods, as the Vault Guardians get to work. Dark Stray pulls out his Kinetic Blade and dashes towards Ableton, leaving behind a burning trail of Kevolution Materia. Willow distracts Dark Stray with some yelling, causing Dark Stray to throw a plasma grenade at Willow. Willow gets away from the grenade, as the explosion leaves behind a small area of molten plasma. Dark Stray then swings his Foxfire Edge at Highwire, launching three orbs of Kevolution Materia towards her. Highwire dodges the attack and scratches Dark Stray in the chest with her Plasmacore Claws. Dark Stray kicks Highwire away, as he screams loudly. "The insanity of Darkeon is upon you!" Splode slaps Dark Stray in the face, planting a Remote Explosive beside his head. CRZ-8 throws his Billiard Grenade at Dark Stray, as the grenade splits into three explosive billiard balls. The explosion knocks Dark Stray into the air, as Splode presses the button on the Remote Explosive's detonator, blowing up the explosive on Dark Stray's face. Dark Stray is knocked out, as Darkeon seeps out of Stray and back into the blood pool. The blood pool begins to transmogrify again, as the liquid is now contaminated with Kevolution Materia. Two large arms rise out of the liquid, followed by a torso. A cracked CUBE manifests on the body, forming Darkeon's head. The entire area begins rumbling, as roots begin tearing through the walls of the Dark Room. Ableton looks around in fear and yells. "What's happening?!" Highwire faces Rinzler and responds. "He's drawing power from the Herald Tree! Nox mentioned the tree as being part of the plan, but not like this!" Loads of Cube Fiends begin manifesting around Darkeon. Amidst the rumbling, the ceiling begins to tremble. An IO Drill drops down from the ceiling and lands near the Vault Guardians. The top hatch of the IO Drill opens up, as Huntmaster Saber begins shooting at some Fiends with his Thermal Scoped Rifle. Amara faces Saber and reacts. "Saber?! How did you find us?" Saber faces Amara and responds. "No time to explain, Luxe!" Saber gets out and continues shooting the Cube Fiends around Darkeon, as Drift, Mizuki, Mystica, and Doctor Jekyll exit the Drill and help out in the fight. Darkeon begins yelling, as Mizuki begins slicing him with her Kinetic Blade. "You test my patience! I will take all your lives!" Drift then slices one of Darkeon's arms off with his Rift Edge, slowly breaking his body apart. Splode looks at the reinforcements and yells. "Hell yeah, folks! Show Darkeon how we fight!" Ableton faces Splode and reacts. "Wait... Did you call them all here, Whitty?" As Mystica attacks Darkeon with her Ashglow Blade, Splode responds. "Yes I did, Able!" Huntmaster Saber drops down to the group with Evie in his hands, after having freed her from the machine she was strapped to. Thunder faces Ableton, Willow, and Splode and speaks. "All the beacons have been lit. You've done the impossible. You've united this city. And reminded us that we need each other." Evie turns to Thunder and responds. "So, how do we feel about making Splode's friends here honorary members of the Peace Syndicate?" Thunder faces Evie and answers her. "Of course. And you're getting your own signature menu item at the Thunder Roll." The entire Dark Room begins to fall apart, as Jekyll yells. "The area is collapsing! Everyone to the Drill!" Everyone immediately piles into the IO Drill, as Highwire quickly grabs Stray's unconscious body and gets in. Triarch Nox tries to get into the IO Drill, as Jekyll reacts to him. "Stay here and die, you bracket-faced trickster!" Jekyll kicks Nox away and shuts the hatch, as Saber maneuvers the IO Drill into the wall and begins drilling everyone's way out. Darkeon's body begins to crumble, as the Dark Room collapses due to all the roots overgrowing in the area. Inside the IO Drill, Evie responds to Thunder's earlier answer to her. "How about the City Saver Supreme? You could make that roll a lunch special! Ooh! How about Hero Meat? Just a big piece of meat with the word 'HERO' cooked into it." Thunder turns to Evie and responds to her. "Hey, who's chef around here? You stick to playing with knives." Evie reacts to what Thunder has said. "Haha, deal! Don't need to tell me twice." Evie turns to Ableton, Willow, and Splode and speaks to them. "If you ever need any backup... We owe you one. Call us, and we'll be there!" Evie then throws up a peace sign at the Vault Guardians. "Keep the peace, heroes." Willow tightly hugs Rinzler, as they enjoy their ride within the IO Drill. Above ground, near the fault line adjacent to a gas station, Xander Necalli, Marigold, Grimey, and Gnash all observe the roots sprouting around the fault line. Xander faces Marigold and comments. "Ooh... These mysterious roots. Something is happening to Asteria, and I'm not sure what." Marigold turns to Xander and responds. "I'm not sure either. Grimey noticed these earlier, and had me come over to check." Gnash looks around and comments. "Well... This has been an eventful evening, Necalli. Can we go now? This place just doesn't feel right." As Xander and his mercenaries prepare to leave, Xander faces the roots and whispers. "Will you take me closer to el Punto Cero?" Evie has been rescued, the Unseen has been trampled, and Nox's plans on bringing back Darkeon have been foiled. This turned into quite a spectacular display of teamwork and mayhem for me and Willow. Although... This does leave a major question for us to figure out... What exactly did Darkeon do with those roots? Whatever he did, it will prove to be something... Wild... for me and Willow.

Hank’s main attack is frustrating to go against.

• His main attack can instantly deal 3000 damage up to 5.33 tiles away from him once released. This becomes a problem when factor in that it’s almost impossible to miss if a brawler is in range and the very high uptime, he’s able to control a large area. Now factor in that he can change the direction of the attack and aim through walls and you have a brawler who can control 100 tiles around him with the threat of an instant and unavoidable 3000 damage.
  
• while any other brawler would have a penalty when controlling such a large area around them, hank maintains is 720 movement speed and even gets a bonus 20% with his SP, putting him at 864 speed almost constantly.
  
• you can’t even see the instant damage threat when he’s in a bush. There is not set up required, there is no risk, no limited resource being used, he just gets to hide and instantly hit you with 3k damage with no way to dodge or have the slightest warning.
  
• the slow on top of all this is absurd
  

If I were to balance hank right now and make him far less frustrating, I would do the following;
Health:

• 9000 -> 8100 (Why did he have 9000 to begin with???)

Main Attack:

• Cannot charge trajectory of attack when charged 80% or more
  
• Revealed in bushes when charged 80% or more
  

Gadget:

• Slow: Duration: 3sec -> 2sec

Purchased a 2019 I-Pace back in. November 22, and so far the ownership experience has been very disappointing, that can't be made up by it being one of the best looking cars in production today..
Admittedly a portion of my disappointment is not with the the car but the dealership and service. Getting a slot for a dead 12v battery was initially 5 weeks out. Only after a second tow back to the dealer did they find time to diagnose the issue and replace both the 12v battery and a faulty telematics module
The biggest issue is with the car itself though. Range is mediocre at best, charging speed is embarrassingly slow and almost getting stranded on the shoulder of I90 is the last straw.
Efficiency is well below average, in a recent 600 weekend trip it averaged over 400 wh /m, giving an effective range of 180 miles on a full charge. With charging speed only reaching 100kw from 10 to 30% it takes way to long to get on way at each charge. On this same road trip though it almost stranded me at Snoqualmie Pass on I90, initially the guessometer estimated I could get to a charger 25 miles further and still have 20 plus miles in the battery, though I took this with a grain of salt. I did expect however to reach the charger at Snoqualmie Pass summit with range to spare. As it turned out I was just able to make it to the charger with the car basically shutting down and a top speed of 15 mph at full throttle. It went from 10% charge to empty in 8 miles. Never in 8 years of driving fully electric cars have I experienced this sudden drop in available energy. Is this normal to go so rapidly to 0 and almost die at the road side or is there a possible issue with the battery or BMS on my car?
So want to love the I-Pace but it is darned hard to when it's and Jaguars performance is so lackluster. And now with the recall will the I-Pace become nothing more than a luxurious city car?

BACKGROUND
Long story short I spent 8 years on the West Coast holding increasingly important positions in the energy industry, but I hated it with every fiber of my being. I started taking nursing prerequisite courses in January of 2020. Family trauma happened. I moved home to Texas to be closer to my family, quit my job (was making ~$130k with bonus), and took the plunge and went to back to school for nursing at 31. I am half way done with an accelerated BSN program and I have a 4.0 GPA. I love it so much despite it being very difficult. I have externship currently and I have an ICU internship lined up for my final semester, which is basically a guaranteed new grad job.
I currently live with my mom and brother. We are remodeling our house so we are in an apartment for a bit. Very tight quarters but thankful to be with them. Boyfriend just successfully made a big career move and is now a superintendent for an important and well respected organization in town making $60k annually with a 8% bonus. Very proud of him and very excited for our future - we are talking about getting engaged in the next year. He is getting an apartment in the next couple months after living at home with his family due to some major family health issues he has been helping out with so you will see some of the apartment search start to happen in this diary!
Currently boyfriend and I split going out expenses pretty much down the line, but with this new job we had a discussion last week about how he will pay for the majority of our going out costs moving forward once he gets his first paycheck this month until I start working full time again in January!
Previous money diary from August 2022 here.
ASSETS (comparing last money diary to now):
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	August 2022	June 2023	Difference
401k	$156,400	$158,600	$2,200
Roth IRA	$68,000	$68,500	(500)
Saving's account	$41,001.43	$26,572.63	($14,428.81)
Checking Account	$3,024.58	$915.41	($2,109)
HSA	$8,800	$7,100	($1,700)
Brokerage	$440	$444	$4
UGMA	$85,000	$84,000	($1,000)
Pension	forgot to include	$27,000	N/A

NET WORTH: $373k
**I don’t carry any credit card debt / no student loan debt / no equity in any kind of home. I was lucky enough to be in a position where I saved up over $40k cash to pay for living expenses when in school. My UGMA account will be used as part of a down payment for a house in the next couple years. My current BSN degree is being covered through family. Also, trying to figure out what to do with my pension - depending how finances go the next 8 months I am in school / if I have any emergencies (I have 2 senior pets) I could cash part of it out or completely roll it over into an IRA.
INCOME
Income Progression: I worked in the energy industry for 8 years; my starting salary was $35,000.
I worked in the Seattle area starting out at $35k in 2014. Moved to a new job in 2016 for $65k and then another new job in 2018 for $85k +12% bonus. Got up to $104k + 20% bonus before I quit. Also worked as a CNA on the weekends for about 6 months for $15 an hour during COVID to make sure I really wanted to go to nursing school.
Main Job Monthly Take Home: It varies but the average so far this year it is $535. I have an incredibly flexible externship at a hospital very close to where I live where my director literally just lets me show up whenever I want to work. I make $17 an hour. I met a couple incredible mentors but I think I am going to quit soon since it just won’t be feasible to work this semester and I already have my ICU internship lined up for September. Trying to be easier on myself and put myself first and I feel very lucky that I don’t need to work. Don’t get me wrong the extra money is SO NICE but I want to concentrate on school, myself, family, partner, and friends. Work on top of an accelerated nursing program is too much. I am actually the only one working in my cohort currently.
Any Other Monthly Income Here: I live with my mom right now and she pays for most of the groceries, utilities, etc. I feel incredibly privileged and lucky that I can live with her and that she is able to support me in this way while I transition careers. I do lots for her to support her such as chores, errands, paying for big Costco runs, etc. My boyfriend also helps out with pet expenses and other things I want / need.
MONTHLY EXPENSES

• Rent: $400 to my mom for a very discounted rate at our current apartment. I don’t pay rent when we are at the house. I will not be paying rent when I semi-move in with my boyfriend in the next couple months. Our goal is to get our own luxury apartment next year close to both of our places of employment after a year lease at a cheaper place. Between now and then I’ll split my time with him and my mom.
• Cellphone: $15 (on family plan & I just pay for additional data)
• Spotify: $5.40 (student plan)
• iCloud: $2.99
• Prime: $8.11
• Gym membership: $20
• Regular therapy: $5 a session and I go biweekly
• Health insurance: $122.54 monthly
• Costco: $60 annually

I allocate the following to my biggest expense categories monthly:

• Gas: $120
• Groceries: $300
• Eating out: $400
• Pet expenses: $200
• Other discretionary spending: $400

WEDNESDAY - DAY 1
8:45: I slept 10 hours last night and it was glorious. I worked a 12 hour shift at the hospital yesterday and our patient acuity was very high.
9:30: Make a coffee and walk and feed my pup. I walk over to the pool for a morning swim. I love a quiet morning swim so much.
11:30: I had a nice 500 yd swim, drank a Premier Protein shake & ate overnight oats with blueberries for breakfast, had a relaxing shower, and started some laundry. Feeling anxious about everything I have on my plate currently. Also I feel hungover from work yesterday. I was going to work another 12 hour shift tomorrow but now I don’t know if I can handle it with school also starting on Friday and a very busy social weekend coming up. Luckily, my director literally lets me show up whenever I want so I may do 7 or 8 hours tomorrow instead of a full 12. Try to table my feelings to discuss in therapy this afternoon.
11:40: Sit down to finish some online orientation for my internship that is coming up my final semester.
13:03: Orientation stuff only took about 20 minutes thank god. I ran to the grocery store and grab a 4 pack of watermelon Celsius, frozen veggies, Eggo waffles, tea bags, string cheese, coffee filters, Wheat Thins, and lean ground beef ($37.01). Head up to the rooftop lounge at the apartment complex to FaceTime a friend that lives across the country since there is zero privacy in the apartment.
14:15: Get off FaceTime, work on some more laundry, and head out to therapy.
16:15: Good, productive, fun, and validating therapy session and I make it over to my friend’s condo to check on her kitties. I had set up a reoccurring biweekly therapy appointment now that I know my school schedule for the upcoming semester too. We talked about money fixation and anxiety and trying to let that go. We agree that I should sleep in a bit tomorrow, walk my dog, go for a swim, and then go to work. I don’t ~need~ the money so working 12 hours vs 7 or 8 is not an issue. My mental health is more important. Also the work hangover from yesterday is real.
17:00: Boyfriend comes over after work and jumps in the shower while I’m a couch potato (Disclaimer: he’s friends with my friend too and she’s 100% comfortable with him hanging out too.) We relax and hang with the kitties and catch up on our days.
18:45: We head to dinner. We grab burritos at one of our favorite local spots and I pay ($25.88). We look at houses for fun on Zillow and discuss what apartments we want to tour in the next couple weeks.
20:00: I make it home and have a long talk with my mom about her friend who ended up in the hospital today with a compound fracture. Long story short I’ll need to stay up until midnight to hand off the house keys, garage door opener, etc. to a friend who is driving into town that can take care of her dog. Her dog is a pit bull that is vicious to strangers so no one else can go over to the house other than this friend who pet sits and knows the dog.
23:30: The friend makes it and we hand him the keys and everything he needs. I had spent the evening tidying up and meal prepping and looking at more apartments. It’s amazing to me how much time goes into keeping a clean and tidy home.
12:08: I spent a half hour setting up my June budget and then pass out.
TOTAL: $62.89
THURSDAY - DAY 2
9:05: I finally wake up to a bunch of texts from multiple different friends / friend groups. Ugh. I’m just feeling really anxious about school starting tomorrow, my mom being very distraught over her colleague / friend, working today, and a busy weekend coming up. I make some coffee and walk my pup.
9:33: I call my mom while feeding my pup breakfast and tell her how I’m feeling and we both agreed I ran around too much last semester and I told her I am setting firm boundaries with myself to basically not do anything social during the school week once clinical start (Monday - Thursday) unless it’s like a super casual dinner and I truly have the capacity for it. I burned myself out at the end of last semester and spent weeks putting the pieces back together.
9:55: I make another cup of coffee and take myself for a morning swim. It brings me so much joy and grounds me. I swim 500 yards and then jump into the shower, throw my scrubs on, kiss my pup goodbye and head to the hospital. I drink a chocolate Primer Protein shake and call my friend L on the way to hear how her trip has been going so far. It was nice to catch up even though we saw each other over the weekend lol.
10:54: Ate my overnight oats made with half and half and some blueberries, clocked in, and headed out to the floor. Immediately get asked to be a sitter which literally never happens. Thank you universe. Feeling a little less anxious now that I’m here and feeling thankful for the little bit of extra money I’m making and being here for my community.
14:04: Maybe not thank you universe - the patient slept for a while then got extremely combative and was trying to punch me. I switch off with a coworker and head to the break room to eat a bowl I made with frozen veggies + rotisserie chicken from Costco + cheddar cheese on top.
19:09: I finally clock out. I had a snack of 2 rice cakes and some almonds at one point. Rest of work was wild (i.e. a psychotic patient that pulled out his IV and was throwing things everywhere, someone screaming in pain for hours nonstop, etc.) and had me questioning what I am doing making this career change. I am tired.
19:49: I make it home after swinging by L’s to check on her kitties. Jump in the shower. My mom has dinner ready and I scarf down this gorgeous basil, mozzarella, peppers, tomatoes, avocados, and olive salad + a couple Trader Joe’s dolmas + a couple pieces of fresh bread. Delicious. I force myself to get my food and my school bag ready for tomorrow and lay my scrubs out before I crawl into bed a little after 9.
TOTAL: $0
FRIDAY - DAY 3
06:22: Alarm goes off and I roll out of bed and take my pup for a nice walk. Give him breakfast / shower / throw on my scrubs / pack my lunch / give the pup a big kiss goodbye and I am out the door a little after 7:00.
07:47: I get to school and I am NOT feeling it lol. I stopped at Costco for gas on my way ($20.67) and I also swung by a very Texas niche store that sells all kinds of beef jerky my brother really likes to grab some for his birthday coming up ($17.98).
10:00: Class is boring - it’s tough getting back into it with an 8 hour cardiac lecture. It’s good to see my friends but struggle is real. I run into my favorite professor and she makes my morning. I tell her all about my upcoming internship and my boyfriend’s new job and she was stoked and told me to “lock him down” hahaha. I also make 2 phone calls to apartment complexes we are interested in cause my boyfriend doesn’t get great reception at work during business hours. One place doesn’t have any current availability but the lady was so nice and will be sending me a virtual tour later today. Schedule another tour on Monday afternoon.
11:30: We break for lunch and I eat the same thing as yesterday - rotisserie chicken + frozen veggies + cheddar cheese.
12:30: Spend the afternoon in class completely unable to concentrate. The professor is throwing ECG rhythms around left and right. 8 hours of ECG lecture is NOT a productive way to learn the material. I work on a couple study guides during class cause I cannot.
3:30: We get out a little early and I rush to meet my mom for a walk through of the house. I follow her back to her office because I sent a big Chewy order there. Pick up the box along with a Diet Coke, order us Cava for dinner, pick up Cava, check on my friends cats on my way home real quick, and then have a shower and relax. Mom pays for Cava and I thank her multiple times.
7:00: We eat dinner all together when everyone is eventually home (harissa avocado bowl for me!) and then my boyfriend calls right when I head out to walk my dog. Perfect. I miss him and have been having anxiety around our new schedules. We have a good 30 minute chat about our days before I spend the evening basically doing nothing. I chat with my family and mess around on my phone. Text boyfriend about different apartments.
22:44: Bed time after I brush and floss my teeth. I’m zonked from the week.
TOTAL: $38.65
SATURDAY - DAY 4
08:30: I’m awake! Did not sleep well at all cause thunderstorms. My pup is deathly afraid and will not stop shaking for hours so I end up sleeping on the couch on and off. We were up and down all night but somehow I feel okay. We go for a quick walk, feed him, and start a load of whites in the washer.
09:08: I have a shower, and then I head out to get my family coffee from one of our favorite spots.
10:45: Make it back home with 2 cold brews for my brother and I and a latte for mom. I also picked up 5 breakfast tacos and a German chocolate cake for Sunday dinner tomorrow ($56.24). I eat a bean and cheese taco and a potato and egg taco, start some laundry, and put air in my tires with my home compressor since my low air light has been on in my car for an embarrassing amount of time. Brother needs air in his tires too so turns into a production lol.
12:18: Spent a couple hours putzing around dealing with the tires and more laundry and packing a bag for tonight. We are headed to the lake for a friend’s bday party and I have no clue what I want to wear so I pack a lot of options and clothes for church tomorrow morning too. Now it’s time to drive around for a little bit and check out some potential apartments and do a small Target run.
14:02: I make it home from apartment cruising and my Target run. I bought a 3 subject notebook, tire pressure gauge with valve caps included, two bags of frozen veggies, mini coke zeros, and a bag of Lesser Evil popcorn ($21.50). I was so tempted to stop for lunch on my way home but lines were long everywhere so I made myself some cheesy eggs + 2 Eggo waffles when I got home. Put the valve cap on my tire that is missing one.
14:36: Make it to L’s condo and clean up after the cats and start the Roomba. Boyfriend texts that he is out of work and on his way over! He’s been up since 4 am this morning for work and I am feeling some type of way with everything on my plate / anxiety so we will see how long we make it tonight lol.
15:30: S is showered and we are out the door!
16:30: We make it to the rental, change into our bathing suits, and walk down to the river.
19:00: We hang out in the river for a good 2.5 hours. It was a good time - nice to chat with my school friends and their partners. Boyfriend and I head out before the real partying starts lol.
20:00: We eat dinner at this cute Tex Mex place. Boyfriend has some kind of alcoholic mixed drink and we share a fajita for 2 plate. Boyfriend pays - it was $70.56 with tip. I drive us back because he does not like to drive even after one drink which I am 100% here for. We are so tired lol.
21:15: Make it back to L’s condo and we take a hot shower and get into bed in the guest bedroom. It takes forever for us to both fall asleep.
TOTAL: $77.74
SUNDAY - DAY 5
6:50: Oh boy neither of us slept well. There was another thunderstorm. One of the cats was yowling nonstop outside our door. The ceiling fan was clanking on and off. The bed was way too soft. Up and down again all night for a second night in a row for me lol.
8:11: I’m showered and we are both dressed and we head out to one of our favorite taquerias for breakfast. I get 2 bean and cheese tacos and one machacado + egg taco. Boyfriend also gets 3 tacos and we both get coffee. We sit and chat for a while until it was time to go to church. I pay on the way out ($22.98 with tip).
11:40: After an hour of church and an hour meeting for a committee I’m on - I’m wiped out. Still have a house walk through to do with my family and boyfriend so I head over there and we are there for about an hour.
13:10: Finally made it home, walked my pup, and made myself a late lunch of Dave’s Killer bread toast + peanut butter + banana.
13:54: A girlfriend calls and asks if I want to get a pedicure this afternoon. We decide to get dinner together on Thursday instead. I’m actually very touched she called me because we are friends through another friend and normally don’t get together just the two of us. I’m really happy she reached out. I also invite one of my friends from school - I have been wanting them to meet for a while.
14:30: Nap timeeeee! I knock out for an hour then realize how thirsty I am and how badly I need to get out of the apartment. I get up, take the pup for a spin with my brother, and head to Sonic to get a large diet cherry limeade and then head to L’s condo to check on the kitties and chill ($3.34).
18:00: I spent a couple hours chilling on the internet - working on my google calendar, school organization, church emails, reviewing some apartments we may drive by tomorrow, and I download the remaining episodes of season 1 of Nurse Jackie to watch tonight. I had bought the complete first season over a month ago and still haven’t watched it all lol. That’s how little I watch tv.
20:00: We had bibimbap for dinner and German chocolate cake for dessert. Delicious. I clean up the dishes and do more laundry because that’s my life between school, work, working out, having 2 hairy pets, etc. Unpack my bags from the river day and sleepover last night too. Chat with my family.
22:00: Crawl into bed and watch some Nurse Jackie before passing out.
TOTAL: $26.32
MONDAY - DAY 6
7:33: I slept better but still tossed and turned. Still just anxious with everything going on, especially the start of another intense semester.
8:47: Pup is fed and walked. I open the windows because it is 68 degrees which is unheard of in June in south Texas.
10:06: I ended up doing a deep clean of my room hahah. Wiped down and vacuumed every surface. So much hair. My pup is shedding so bad. I change my bedding and toss my comforter in the wash. Thank goodness I have 2 sets of sheets now. I had only 1 for the longest time lol. I take a break and eat some Greek yogurt + pecans + banana + drizzle of honey.
11:03: I vacuumed the common areas in the apartment, took a long shower, and I’m dressed and ready for my boyfriend to pick me up. I felt like being cute today so I put on this new leather skirt from Alice + Olivia my boyfriend got me as a present that I haven’t worn yet + a white crop top + my cheetah old skool Vans. I’m so tired though lololol. This is one of the only Mondays we both have off for the foreseeable future so I am gonna rally and make the most of it!
11:15: Boyfriend is so tired too bahah. We go grab coffees at this cute little coffee shop I’ve been wanting to check out. I get a cortado. Boyfriend gets an iced caramel almond milk latte and I treat ($11.82 with tip). We sit and chill and map out what apartments we want to check out today.
12:30: Walk across the street to grab Tex Mex for lunch at a pretty famous place in town. I get the enchilada plate and boyfriend gets a chicken quesadilla plate. He pays and it is $27.89 with tip.
1:30: Go for our first apartment tour of the day and it is depressing. We drive around and check out the other apartments we are I interested in and then go on one more tour at a place that we are really impressed by. It’s $1.3k or so for a 500 sq ft one bedroom and that’s a stretch. Ideally he wants the base rent to be $1,000 or less which is quite doable. Yet again - south Texas prices for the win. He is looking at older buildings, but they are well kept up and in good neighborhoods. They are not in the hottest places to be in town, but definitely still nice.
16:00: We go back to L’s condo and chill and take care of the kitties. Discuss the apartments and ask my brother if he wants to get dinner with us and he agrees.
18:00: We head back to my apartment, pick up my brother, and head to dinner. We order a large caesar salad, an arugula and sausage pizza, and a mushroom and pepperoni pizza. This spot does $10 two topping pizzas on Monday and it slaps. I treat my boyfriend and brother to dinner ($48.01 with tip).
20:00: Home and boyfriend walks my pup with me. Brother makes us both tea and we have a nice cup of tea and chat until boyfriend heads home. I put together my breakfast and lunch tomorrow and then lay down to chill and have some quiet time.
22:30: Bed time! First day of critical care didactic is tomorrow and I am feeling mostly excited.
TOTAL: $59.82
TUESDAY - DAY 7
6:22: My alarm goes off and wakes me from a deep sleep. I finally slept a good 8 hours though!
7:10: I am showered and throw on some black Lululemon Align leggings and a swiftly tech tee. I was gonna wear real pants but screw that haha. I am really dragging this morning.
7:50: Make it to school and lecture starts at 8. Honestly - that lecture could have been given in 45 minutes but we spent the first 2 hours simply going over the schedule and clarifying assignments since everything is such a disorganized hot mess at the beginning of the semester.
10:05: We take a break and call a fellow church congregation member to see if we want to meet today to tour an organization that supports people immigrating. We are debating if we want to allocate church donation funds to them. We agree to meet at the location at 1:30.
12:41: We are done with class and I stayed a bit after to start making my study guide for our first test even though it isn’t for 5 weeks. I realize the time and quickly pack up and go heat up my lunch. Chat with an MSN student who I had met in orientation for my internship a couple weeks ago and he expressed his frustration about how the start of this semester is rough for him too.
2:38: We finish our tour and we are very impressed at the clean and organized operation. We agree to each write our own follow up email to the rest of the group before the end of the day supplying the church donating.
3:30: I make some jasmine tea and have some quiet time when I get home before starting on some dosage calculation problems that are due on Friday.
5:45: I end up spending almost 2.5 hours on homework - dosage calculations, an article summary, and start on a medication sheet. Ouch. I lay down for 20 minutes, take my pup out, and then head out to meet my friend for dinner at Cava.
6:30: I get the lemon chicken bowl and pita chips ($13.69) and we sit and chat for a 1.5 hours. We just saw each other a couple weeks ago, but so much to catch up on.
20:00: We agree to go on a double date in the next couple weeks and I head home. I walk my pup with my mom and brother, pack my gym bag and my food for tomorrow, write my follow up emails from today’s visit to the church committee, and relax in bed.
TOTAL: $13.69
TALLY OF DAILY EXPENSES:

• Food + Drink: $240.36
• Fun / Entertainment: $0
• Home + Health: $0
• Clothes + Beauty: $0
• Transport: $30.67
• Other: $17.98

TOTAL EXPENSES: $279.11
REFLECTION
I spent quite a bit on going out to eat this week with my boyfriend, family, and friends. It was the end of my school break and boyfriend is transitioning to a new job so we were a bit out of whack with spending on food. Usually we eat at home with our families more, but it was nice to go out and enjoy ourselves too. It was a super busy week for me too - which is the norm lately. I have a great community and social life here compared to the West Coast and I do not take that for granted. Trying to make myself more of a priority so I don’t burn out again, which is difficult for me.

Spoilers for Naruto and Naruto Shippuden

Conditions

1. Healthy pre-reaper death seal Orochimaru (not war arc)
2. Shippuden Jiraiya
3. Both start in base
4. Edo tensei restricted (otherwise it would turn into a stomp since Jiraiya doesn't have a lot of sealing jutsus)
5. Location: The grassy area where the three way deadlock battle happen in the search for Tsunade arc
6. Starting distance 20m
7. Victory by killing or subduing the opponent

The other day I decided to simulate a battle between the two so I thought I would post it here to hear opinions and have a discussion, but before that I will do an analysis of their abilities so that we're all on the same page. First we will start with:

Jiraiya

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Taijutsu:
​

Jiraiya isn't a taijutsu heavy fighter but he is not too shabby in the field. Strength wise he is easily able to lift and toss around boulders in base scoring a 4.5 in strength in the third databook. In terms of speed, he was able to keep up with an armless Orochimaru while being at 30% of his power scoring a 4.5 in speed in the third databook. Additionally he scores a 4.5 in stamina in the third databook. Finally Jiraiya is durable enough to tank a kick from guy. With all this Jiraiya scored a taijutsu point of 4.5 in the third databook.
Ninjutsu:
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Jiraiya has a plethora of different ninjutsu, let's take a look at them

1. Fire style: Flame Bomb Jutsu

A C-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya shoots a ball of fire which then causes a mini explosions. Not too powerful as Konan tanked its with no issue.
2.Fire style: Dragon Flame Jutsu
A C-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya shoots out several bullets of fire
3.Fire style: Toad Flame Bomb
A B-rank ninjutsu which is a combine attack between Jiraiya and Gamabunta where Jiraiya shoots fire while Gamabunta shoots oil that enhances the flames. Attack was strong enough to incinerate Manda's shed skin
4.Earth release: Swamp of the Underworld
An A-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya summons a swamp of sticky mud to trap opponents. Note that the swamp can be formed on any surfaces including ceilings. The swamp in strong enough to trap one of Orochimaru's big snake summons and also trap the human path on the ceiling.
5.Rasengan
An A-rank ninjutsu, I think we're all familiar with this rotating ball of chakra so I won't be talking about it.
6.Rasengan Barrage
An A-rank ninjutsu, its just 2 rasengans on in each hand
7.Odama Rasengan
An A-rank ninjutsu, a bigger rasengan
8.Needle Jizo
A B-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya hardens and wraps his hair around himself to become a porcupine
9.Needle Hell
Can't find the rank of this jutsu. Jiraiya hardens and shoots his hair in a barrage of hardened hair, this attack is strong enough to destroy boulders
10.Wild Lion's Main Jutsu
A B-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya strengthens extends his hair, the technique is strong enough to rip Nagato's crab into pieces
11.Barrier: Canopy Method Formation
A B-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya creates a spherical zone around him where he can sense anything within. The zone moves with Jiraiya.
12.Hiding in a Toad Jutsu
A C-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya hides in a small toad
13.Toad Flatness - Shadow Manipulation Jutsu
A B-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya flattens himself and hides in a targets shadow. While doing this he can also control the targets actions, and after the jutsu is dispelled the target has no memory of being controlled. However Jiraiya has to hold his breathe for the duration of the jutsu
14.Toad Oil Bomb
A C-rank ninjutsu where Jiraiya shoots sticky oil, was able to prevent Konan from dispersing into paper
15.Shadow Clone Jutsu
A B-rank ninjutsu, I think we're all familiar with this jutsu
With all these Jiraiya scores a 5 in ninjutsu and 4.5 in hand signs in the third databook
Genjutsu:
Jiraiya doesn't use any genjutsu by himself in the series but he scores a 3 in the field according to the third data book. However he does have access to one of the most broken genjutsu that we'll get into later.
Summonings:
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Jiraiya has various toad summonings, we'll take a look at them
1.Summoning: Food Cart Destroyer Jutsu
A B-rank summoning jutsu where Jiraiya summons a massive toad above the target which falls on them and crushes them. This jutsu is powerful enough to oneshot one of Orochimaru's big snake summon.
2.Summoning: Toad Mouth Bind
An A-rank summoning jutsu where Jiraiya summons the oesophagus of the great fire breathing toad to trap opponents. Jiraiya can manipulate the flesh of the toad to attack opponents.
3.Summoning: Crushing Toad Stomach
Can't find the rank of this jutsu. Jiraiya reverse summons both himself and anything nearby into a toads stomach where they are crushed. Though this sounds like a suicide attack, Jiraiya can get a shadow clone to perform it.
4.Summoning: Toad Shop Jutsu
A B-rank summoning jutsu where Jiraiya summons a small toad which has the ability to transform into a shop.
5.Barrier: Toad Gourd Prison
A B-rank summoning jutsu where Jiraiya summons a gourd toad which he can enter its stomach. It can also drag opponents into its stomach. Inside its stomach is like a rooms sized chamber filled with gastric acid.
6.Summoning Jutsu
A C-rank summoning jutsu where Jiraiya can summon various animals. Most notably toads, lets look at a some of the more notable toads.
a) Gamabunta
The chief toad of Mount Myoboku is a massive toad that wields a giant samurai sword. Gamabunta is extremely agile being able to jump great distances in a short duration. He is heavy enough that when summoned in the air, was able to knock Kurama, the nine tails, to the ground. He is also skilled in ninjutsu able to fire toad oil in his combo jutsu with jiraiya, Toad flame bomb. He can also shoot out powerful water bullets capable of clashing with the air bullets shot by a weakened Shukaku, the one tail, and durable enough to tank a hit from said air bullets. He was also intelligent enough to come up with a strategy to cancel Shukaku's awakening by waking Gaara up.
b) Gamaken
A giant toad who wields a giant sasumata and a giant shield attached to giant bandages which allows him to both use the shield defensively, and offensively as a flail as well as a rope to grab onto poles and swing around. Gamaken was durable enough to tank several bites from Nagato's dogs and did very well against the canines. He also defeated Nagato's rhino with his sasumata. Finally he was also able to create at least one shadow clone which acted as a decoy and was reversed summoned into the crushing toad stomach.
c) Gamahiro
A giant toad who wields two large swords and is proficient in close quarters combat.

1. Shima and Fukasaku (Ma and Pa)

The two great sage toads, to summon them, Jiraiya has to keep his hands together for several minutes. They are easily Jiraiya's most powerful summons and are his trump cards. Shima and Fukasaku are both physically very strong thanks to infusing nature energy with their own chakra. They can also merge with Jiraiya allowing him to enter an imperfect form of sage mode which we will get into later. Shima is capable of extending her tongue to great lengths to attack and restrain an opponent. Her tongue can move at an immensely fast speed, to the point where even pain was surprised by how fast it was. Additionally she can detect opponents with her tongue in a matter of seconds. Finally it can also release a corrosive mucus from the pores. Fukasaku is capable of firing powerful jets of water which sliced Nagato's chameleon in half. Together with Jiraiya, they can use a combine attack: Fire Style: Goemon, which we will get into later. Finally, the two of them can use one of the most broken genjutsu in the series: Demonic Illusion: Toad Confrontation Chant, where they sing a complex frog song which puts opponents in a powerful genjutsu where they are stunned and feel like they are drowning. This genjutsu was powerful enough to defeat 3 paths of pain despite the numerous powerful genjutsu barriers Nagato placed in each path. The only drawback being that the jutsu takes some charge up time to cast.
Senjutsu:
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Jiraiya can enter an imperfect form of toad sage mode by merging with Shima and Fusakasu. In this form, not only is Jiraiya's physical stats vastly improved but also his ninjutsu.
Taijutsu: Jiraiya gains a massive strength boost in sage mode, capable of shattering the ground just by jumping down. He was able to send human path flying and destroying the boulder the path flew into with just one kick. Do note that the human path also casually blocked a punch from sage mode Jiraiya with just one hand so he is still nowhere near as strong as a perfect sage like naruto in terms of physical strength. Jiraiya also gain access to frog kata where he can hit opponents with his aura. To top it all off, Jiraiya also gains the sensing abilities of sage mode.
Ninjutsu: Jiraiya gains various new ninjutsus as well as enhancements to previously mentioned ninjutsus in sage mode, lets take a look at them:
1.Fire Style: Giant Flame Bombs Jutsu
A B-rank ninjutsu which is the enhanced version of the previously mentioned Fire style: Flame Bomb Jutsu. It now adds oil along with the fire to create a bigger flame bomb.
1.Sage Art: Goemon
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. This is the combination attack with ma and pa mentioned prior where Shima shoots fire, Jiraiya shoots oil and Fukasaku shoots wind. This awesome attack unfortunately has no AP feats since it was absorbed by the preta path but I would imagine it has similar AP to Mei's lava release.

1. Cho Odoma Rasengan

Can't find the rank to this jutsu but its an even bigger rasengan.

1. Ninja Art: Needle Senbon

Again can't find the rank of this jutsu but it is just the enhanced version of needle hell. It's basically the same thing just faster and stronger, it is also apparently the fastest attack in Jiraiya's arsenal.
Fuinjutsu:
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Jiraiya doesn't have many sealing jutsus so we'll just quickly look over the few he has.

1. Sealing Jutsu: Fire Seal

A B-rank sealing jutsu where Jiraiya uses a scroll to seal fire. The seal is even capable of sealing Itachi's Amaterasu.
Other Notable Facts:
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Despite his goofiness, Jiraiya is actually very intelligent being able to analyse the quirky abilities of the 3 paths of pain he fought and come up with a counter strategy. He also has an excellent memory being able to craft a coded message using the page numbers of his book Make Out Tactics, with the first word on each page serving as his message in a couple of seconds while he was dying. This scored him a 4.5 in intelligence according to the third databook. Additionally, Jiraiya is one of the most experienced shinobi, like ever. He completed the most number of missions in the entire hidden leaf village, totaling out at 1,839 official missions, 138 of them being S-rank missions.
That sums up the abilities of Jiraiya the Gallant. (That was way longer than I expected) Now onto:

Orochimaru

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Taijutsu:
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Orochimaru is extremely strong wielding enough strength to punch entire trees down, this scores him a 3.5 in strength according to the third databook. Orochimaru is also extremely fast being able to blitz four tails naruto in his snake tail form while sick, he was also the teacher of hebi sasuke who has been complimented numerous times by the likes of deidara for his speed, as his mentor, Orochimaru should scale above Hebi Sasuke. This scores him a speed of 4.5 in the third databook. He also scores 3.5 for stamina in said book. The most notable component of Orochimaru, is tenaciousness and durability. Apart from his absurd regen that we will get into later, Orochimaru is very resistant to blunt force trauma, capable of tanking numerous punches from Tsunade , with her final punch being specially infused with extra chakra. Note that Tsunade's punches casually broke Madara's susanoo in its ribcage from. All these scores him a 3.5 in taijutsu according to the third databook.
Kenjutsu:
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Orochimaru masterfully wields the legendary Sword of Kusanagi (as seen in the image above lol), which Orochimaru keeps in the mouth of a snake, which is then is kept in his mouth......snek. Enma commented that even in his Diamond-hard Staff form, the Kusanagi blade still hurts. It should be noted that it couldn't pierce V2 jinchuuriki cloak. Orochimaru can extend and retract the Kusanagi blade at will, and by extend, I mean extend. Orochimaru doesn't have to fully pull out the sword from the snake in his mouth to attack, he can partially pull out the blade from the snake in his mouth and just swing his head around. Finally the Kusanagi has one last hidden trick that we will get into later.
Ninjutsu:
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Orochimaru has a lot of unique and weird ninjutsu's, let's go through them

1. Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu

A C-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru fires a fireball out his mouth
2.Wind Release: Breakthrough
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Orochimaru fires a powerful gust of wind out his mouth
3.Wind Release: Great Breakthrough
A C-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru fires a hurricane level gust of wind capable of easily uplifting multiple trees out his mouth.
4.Wind Release: Gale Palm
A C-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru fires a strong gale of wind out his hands.
5.Earth Release: Hiding Like a Mole
A C-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru turns the earth around him into fine sand, allowing him to burrow into the ground. While underground he can sense the magnetic forces, effectively allowing him to sense what is happening on the surface.
6.Earth Release: Shadow Clone
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Its a shadow clone made of mud.

1. Hiding in Surfaces Jutsu

Can't find the rank to this jutsu. With this jutsu Orochimaru can phase through his surroundings, allowing travel undetected.

1. Sound Wave Jutsu

Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Orochimaru releases a burst of deadly sound, it was powerful enough to instantly kill 2 anbus.
9.Temporary Paralysis Jutsu
A D-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru temporarily paralyses his target
10.Sword of Kusanagi: Longsword of the Sky
A B-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru can control the Kusanagi blade telekinetically.

1. Soft Physique Modification

Can't find the rank to this jutsu. It allows Orochimaru to stretch and bend his body however and whenever he please, extending it to great lengths and retracting it again. He most commonly uses this with his neck and his tongue, with the latter being strong enough to give Tsunade trouble in pulling it away from her neck, and with the former, when I say extend, I mean extend.

1. Living Corpse Reincarnation

A S-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru transport both him and his target into the dimension inside Orochimaru. In this world which comprise of and endless plane of flesh which Orochimaru can manipulate, Orochimaru can transfer his soul into his target stealing their bodies.
13.Four Black Snakes Formation
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Orochimaru and his clones stand in a square formation, erecting a large barrier between them. On command it incinerates its contents.
14.Oral Rebirth
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Orochimaru regurgitates himself fully restoring himself from any injuries. Note that this jutsu takes up a lot of chakra, like hebi Sasuke used it once and he ran out of chakra. However Orochimaru managed to use it 4 times while sick (like literally days away from coughing blood on his death bed). Healthy Orochimaru should be able to spam this way more.

1. Binding Snake Glare Spell

A C-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru summons a snake out his sleeve which coils around his target.

1. Hidden Shadow Snake Hands

A C-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru summons several snakes from under his sleeve to strike opponents.
17.Multiple Striking Shadow Snakes
A B-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru summons EVEN MORE snakes from under his sleeve to strike opponents. This jutsu seems to strike incredibly fast as it was capable of catching Yamato mid jump and even Hanzo the Salamander.
18.Gathering of the Snakes
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Orochimaru is able to reconnect his body with snakes if he is severed into pieces.
19.Slithering Snake Mode
Can't find the rank to this jutsu. Orochimaru turn his legs into a snake's tail allowing him to move at unbelievable speeds.
20.Twin Snakes Mutual Death Jutsu
An A-rank ninjutsu which we never got to see what it does but it is suppose to cause the death of both the caster and the target.
21.Formation of Ten Thousand Snakes
A B-rank ninjutsu where thousands of snakes crawl out of Orochimaru's mouth to attack opponents. The snakes can also extend blade out of their mouths to attack opponents.

1. Eight Branches Jutsu

A S-rank ninjutsu where Orochimaru transforms into a massive 8 headed and 8 tailed serpent with immense strength. This is said to be Orochimaru's strongest snake related jutsu. When using this technique, Orochimaru can emerge from the mouth of one of the heads and use his Sword of Kusanagi to attack. Finally the serpent is said to possess a powerful healing factor.
Additionally Orochimaru scores a 5 in hand seals according to the third databook. With all these Orochimaru scored a 5 in Ninjutsu according to said book.
Genjutsu:
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Orochimaru doesn't use any genjutsu in the series apart from his killing intent which isn't really a genjutsu. His killing intent paralyses his targets in fear making them visualise their own death. Despite this Orochimaru scores a 5 in genjutsu according to the third databook.
Summonings:
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Orochimaru has various summonings, we'll take a look at them.

1. Summoning: Rashomon

A B-rank summoning jutsu where Orochimaru summons a demonic gate from the ground to block an incoming attack. The gate was able to block Kiba's twin fang attack but dented.
2.Summoning: Triple Rashomon
An A-rank summoning jutsu where Orochimaru summons three demonic gates from the ground to block an incoming attack. The gate was able to heavily reduce the damage of a four tails naruto's bijuu dama to the point where it Orochimaru wasn't disintegrated by the bomb but instead knocked to the ground.

1. Summoning: Edo Tensei

RESTRICTED
Snake summons: Orochimaru has many different giant snake summons, one even having three heads, but the most notable being Manda which is said to be the strongest colossal serpent. Manda is extremely large and powerful, he was also skilled in combat taking on both Gamabunta and one-tenth of Katsuyu simultaneously almost killing them both. He was agile enough to dodge Katsuyu's acid spit and durable enough to remain intact even after tanking Deidara's suicide jutsu, though he did die as a result. Manda also has superb regeneration claiming that he will only take a weak to heal a hole caused by Gamabunta's sword. He could shed his skin to evade attack and quickly burrow and move underground with his wicked gong mouth technique. He is intelligent enough to deceive Gamabunta by distracting him with his tail to leave him open for a bite.
Senjutsu:
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Orochimaru utilises senjutsu in combat through the form of curse marks. He can give a curse opponents curse marks by biting them, usually on the neck. He can give various curse marks but the most suitable one for combat is the one he gave Guru Guru which paralysed him for a couple seconds. This is impressive as Guru Guru was holding off the entire Kurama enhanced shinobi alliance along with the five kage and edo Hiruzen.
Other Notable facts:
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Orochimaru still has some abilities which don't really fit into any category. For one he can absorb someone's chakra by simply touching them. Orochimaru can also enter his true form which is a massive white snake made of smaller white snake and attacks with said smaller white snakes by extending the smaller white snakes to strike foes. Snake. The most notable feature of this form is that it's blood will evaporate into the air creating an undetectable numbing neurotoxin that paralyses anyone who breathes it. Even Sasuke who possessed the sharingan and a pseudo sage mode with his curse mark was unable to detect until he was already paralysed by the toxins. To add on, Orochimaru is also vastly intelligent being an excellent scientist and has a vast array of knowledge. With this he scored a 5 in intelligence according to the third databook. Much like Jiraiya, Orochimaru is also highly experienced in combat having completed the second highest amount of missions in the hidden lead with the total count of 1,468 missions with 108 being S-rank missions. Finally, Orochimaru might be able to test opponents through the air like a snake or use his snake taste them for him since Sasuke warned Itachi about that when they fought Kabuto claiming that he had to research that before taking on Orochimaru.
And that sums up the abilities of Orochimaru the Snake Sannin.

Simulation

That was longer than I expected but now we can finally move on to the simulated battle. In case you forgot, these are the conditions:

1. Healthy pre-reaper death seal Orochimaru (not war arc)
2. Shippuden Jiraiya
3. Both start in base
4. Edo tensei restricted (otherwise it would turn into a stomp since Jiraiya doesn't have a lot of sealing jutsus)
5. Location: The grassy area where the three way deadlock battle happen in the search for Tsunade arc
6. Starting distance 20m
7. Victory by killing or subduing the opponent

Note that in the battle whenever anyone uses a named jutsu I will have a "(insert jutsu name)!" to make it clear on what their doing. Since I am running out of character limit, I'll write the battle in the comments:
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edit: The simulation is posted in 3 parts since I ran out of character space. Note that it ends with a

KO!

I had three things on my mind walking home.
Firstly, figuring out how to get a ride back home. My best guess was that I was a good thirty minute drive from any type of civilization. There was a small possibility a car might come along from across the distance, but the chance they were heading in the same direction I was, was even slimmer.
I mean, I could probably manage to hotwire a car back at the farmhouse. But I didn't want to go back there. Not yet.
The second thing on my mind was my lack of shoes. The rocks were tough and sharp under my feet, scraping them raw with every aching footstep. I had settled on walking on the muddy, yet less painful, grass on the side. But I still wondered why. Of all the thing the man at the table could've taken from me, he took shoes.
It was a pretty clear answer, however. Mental games. He hires someone to drop me off in the middle of nowhere, with no feasible way of getting back. He knew the first thing I'd want to do is leave. So he took my shoes. He gave me two options, and he wanted to make one that displeased him hurt me, even if it was only in a small, petty way.
Mental games.
The last thing was that I had messed up. Badly. I had continually played into the man at the table's hand. He had always been two steps ahead of me and in hindsight, it was foolish of me to go confront him. I suppose I had visions of bravado, and of revenge, but all I had to show for it was one less arm, and a dead friend.
I can admit that I shouldn't have done that. But I can also change. One short phone call to the police, and I'd get rid of this nightmare. I had an address. I had a confession. I had evidence. And I had made up my mind. No longer I would face all this by myself.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911. No service. Great.
I continued walking for another twenty minutes, before I heard the roar of a car engine behind me. I turned around. There was a car peeking over the horizon, coming from where I came from, and going the direction I was going. Perfect. It was an old blue Chevy, that rumbled across the gravel, kicking up a plume of dust as it went.
I stuck my thumb out.
In that moment, I probably didn't look like someone you'd want to pick of the road, with missing shoes and only one arm, and all. But there was no harm in trying. I was hoping it was a kind farmer from hereabouts, heading to the main town to do some weekly shopping. The Chevy made its way to me, and I saw the driver eye me up and down, before pulling onto the shoulder of the road.
I opened the door and hopped into the passengers side, thanking the driver. He shifted his position to look at me. Well, rather look past me. He had short, cropped hair, three-day stubble, and a faraway look in his eyes, as if he couldn't rest his gaze, or if he was always searching into the distance.
It was the paramedic, from earlier.
I opened the door and got out. I wasn't doing this again. I would rather walk home. The paramedic drove forward a bit, cutting me off from the road, so that I would have to walk around his car to go forwards. I stopped walking. The paramedic got out of his car.
"Hey, Jonathan." He said, waving.
I didn't respond.
He moved forward towards me and extended a hand. I didn't accept it. He held it there for an uncomfortably long period of time, before placing it back by his side. "Look. We got of on the wrong foot here. The name's Michael. It's a pleasure to meet you again."
"The pleasure's all yours." I said, dripping with distaste.
He looked forward, his gaze shifting in and out of focus. "So. . .uh. You called 911. I can't let you do that."
"How did you know that?" I questioned.
He shrugged. "GPS tracker. In your arm. Shows us your location, and interferes with phone signals as well. Took the liberty of inserting it when you were out cold."
It wasn't a service signal problem, then.
He shifted position, and leaned against his car. "So, I'm going to set it to you straight. Come back with us. You obviously can't be trusted to not go back to the police. Let's make this fair. We're not here to hurt you. You said you'd work for us. Come back, Jonathan."
"And how would you stop me from going?" I said, tensing up for a fight.
He shook his head, looking hurt. He grabbed his keys from his pocket, and pressed a button connected to the keychain. I fell down in pain, as a sharp buzzing sensation shook my body, the intensity increasing ever few seconds.
Michael let go off the button. "I forgot to mention. The tracker also doubles as a. . .safety precaution. You just experienced setting three. Trust me, you wouldn't like setting eight." He tapped his eyes. "Messes up your internal hardware, as I'm sure you've noticed. Setting ten straight up kills you."
I automatically looked at my right arm. Inside of it, somewhere, was a small death machine.
"So, Jonathan. Will you come back?"
I didn't have much of a choice.
The drive back was uneventful, and spent mostly in silence. Every time Michael tried to start a conversation, I brushed him of with one word answers. I wanted to make it clear I didn't want to be here.
He pulled up the small driveway towards the farmhouse. The man at the table was sitting on the porch waiting for me. He knew I was coming. He tells me I have a choice in whether I leave or not, but I never really did. The illusion of choice.
Mental games.
He stood up to greet me as I got out of the car. "Jonathan! You're back! I am so glad to see you!" He waved me inside. "Come on in. I've got so much to tell you! The others are eating breakfast."
I walked in with him, towards the dining room where I had first met him. Seated around the table, there was a large group of nineteen people eating bacon and eggs, and various other breakfast items.
I knew most of them.
There was Sgt Langley, slathering some butter on bread. She smiled and waved at me as I came in.
Eddison was sitting beside her, pouring milk into a glass. He turned away from me, not wanting to look me in the eyes, I suppose. He was embarrassed to be here.
There was various other people I had seen in my time in the field,. Other paramedics and police officers, politicians, journalists, doctors and surgeons. All sharing a pleasant meal together. In the house of a murderer.
The man clapped his hands from behind me. "Ok, everyone! Let's make Jonathan feel welcome around here. He's the latest Keeper, but we're still expecting many more"
"Welcome, Jonathan." A unison of voices said.
I scanned the room, my throat dry and constricted. This was too much.
The man walked away and beckoned me towards him. He continued to walk through the house, pointing out every room, and giving a rundown of the layout. A kitchen, two living rooms, and three bathrooms spread across two stories. There was also a couple of bedrooms inside, but it seemed to me everyone was sleeping in tents outside.
He then took me down to the basement. "This is where the magic happens." He said, with a wink.
It was as I left it. A large operating table covered in dried blood filled the middle of the room. It was surrounded with various machinery, and tools. It was a stark contrast between a sterile IV machine on one side, and a rusted saw hanging of a nail on the other. And in the middle of it all were cameras, set up on tripods around the room.
I inspected one more closely. "What are the cameras for?" I asked.
The man chuckled slightly. "How else do you think I get the money to pay for all of this?"
I turned around to face him, the cogs clicking in my head. "You. . .sell videos of people being tortured."
He smiled. "You get it. Torture porn is extremely popular in some places of the internet. It's not the main reason I do this, of course. But it helps the cause. The video of your arm being sold, for example, was sold for just shy of five thousand." He clasped his eyes behind his back, seemingly very pleased with himself. "I cut paid to cut off a few legs, and then I have the money to cut off more than just legs. It's an endless cycle. It's perfect. You've seen firsthand the fruits of this system." He nodded towards the door on the side, still marked with elephant.
He continued. "That's where I keep my work-in-progresses. Of course, it's empty now. Which is a shame. He was shaping up to be my best elephant yet. No matter, we've got a cat picked out and coming in soon."
I shuddered at the way he talked about Thompson with such blasé. As if what had happened to him was a natural, everyday occurrence. It sickened me. There was no way somebody could do this all day, and believe themselves to be good.
There was something else as well, burning in the back of my mind. "You said before that the night my sister was kidnapped, she was doing something that I didn't know. What was it?"
He was silent for a moment. "How close were you with your sister?"
I shrugged. "Close enough. We talked about once a month, and came over every Christmas."
"Do you know what she did for work?"
"Yeah. She was studying something. Some sort of advanced anesthetic. She never worked it out, however."
"She did." He simply said. He waited for me to process that before continuing. "I met Alice on an online forum. From the beginning, she fascinated me. She talked about how the world was corrupt and poisoned by humanity, and her ideas for rebirth and restoration. She had plans, Jonathan. So many plans. Everything you see here is a result of her work. We met up at one point and clicked. She was perfect. She was smart. And she was mine."
"Then. . .why did you kill her?" I asked.
I could see his eyes clouding up, as if he was on the verge of tears. "Her anesthetic didn't work as intended. Instead of removing pain, it increased it. The way it truly works is beyond me, but even a little dose causes the most unimaginable pain. It feels as if your body is being removed from the inside and replaced with fire, atom by atom. Death would be preferable. But that's the thing, the anesthetic one small side-effect. It's downright impossible to die when the effects take hold. You just have to endure through the pain."
"So all the people I saw. . .?" I let my question trail of.
"It's easy to manipulate someone's body when they don't have the strength to retaliate, nor the capability to die." He paused, his body quivering with each shaky breath. "Alice wanted to be the first. She wanted to be the pioneer as the world transitioned into her vision. I begged her not to, as there were other, more suitable candidates. But she insisted.
And so we staged a kidnapping. There was no evidence because there was no struggle. There was nothing. She came to this farmhouse, and was the first person to be operated on that table. I spent years placing toothpicks in her skin, while she was drugged up under her special anesthetic. She pushed through the pain, and continued to talk to me. Sharing ideas that I would have never thought possible.
She told me to find others. In places of power. And if they wouldn't join willingly, then find a way to force them. Soon enough, they would come to realize we're working for the benefit of humanity. She told me to create animal-human hybrids to begin with. An evolution of our species. And the last thing she told me, before I laid her to rest in a park, was to find you. To hire you. To change your vision. And here you are."
I stood in silence. I, in fact, didn't know what to say. Everything that I though I knew about my sister was shattered in an instant. It was possible the man was lying. There was no way she really was a some sort of insane fanatical, hell-bent on torturing people.
It just wasn't the person I knew.
And yet, everything made sense. I didn't want to believe him, but I didn't see any way that I couldn't. He was right, and I knew it.
The man looked back at me. "Come, Jonathan. I've got one more thing you need to see."
He led me up, out of the basement, and through the back door. He led me past a large vegetable garden, and rows upon rows of tents, most of them unoccupied.
They were expecting many more.
I followed him past a fireplace, with upturned stumps placed in a circle around it, to the large barn behind the farmhouse. It was painted a classic red with a sloping roof, and white barn doors. I could hear various noises emanating from inside, different loud sounds, moans, and scrapes, seemingly as if a large machine was inside.
Or a large number of people.
"This," The man said, gesturing at the barn. "Is my crowning achievement. My life's work. It is the beginning of the vision that Alice had for the world. This is where your induction will take place, and you will become a fully fledged Keeper. You will learn to be a bringer of justice, and a waymaker into the new world."
He walked in front of me, and opened the large doors., letting me take a glimpse inside. It was dark and musky. "Welcome, Jonathan." He exclaimed. "To the human zoo!"
I stepped inside.
The smell hit me like a tidal wave. It smelled strongly of blood and fetid remains that permeated the air like a blanket. It gave me a nauseous feeling, and sent my head whirling, as it tried to breathe in clean air. It was no use. I felt a rush of bile spill out of my stomach and into my throat. I turned to the side and threw up onto the floor. And judging by the mess down there, I was not the first.
There was rows upon rows of cages, all lined up from wall to wall. In each cage there seemed to be. . .someone, and by the looks of it, most of them were already dead. Each cage was labeled with a different creature name. There was a worm, who had all of her limbs removed, and seemed to have segmented body parts every couple of inches, and was forced to crawl around by using her head as an anchor.
There was various dogs and cats, long needles inserted into the cheeks in place of whiskers, they had everything below their elbows and knees removed, forcing them to walk on all fours. Other human-animals had parts of their bodies elongated or exaggerate, turning them into various creatures. It didn't seem possible to look like that and live.
All of the inhabitants of the human zoo were filthy and ragged, cramped up in small living conditions and forced to eat small portions of what looked to be rotting meat, only fit for animals. When I walked past, they looked up at me with sorrowful, pleading eyes. They wanted freedom, just like Thompson. They were broken and they were hurt. But they seemed resigned to the fact that they were going to live out the rest of their lives here. There was no resistance in any of them. There was no struggle. They had all given up.
This place was hell.
It was hard to think clearly, the smell continued to invade my brain, and dampening my vision with black patches. My heart was pounding in my chest, a result of the horrors that laid before me. I couldn't breath. I couldn't move. This was all too much.
The man continued walking forwards. "This is where I hold all current specimens, before I decide to release them into captivity. And this is where you and all the other Keepers will work, feeding the specimens, continuing their evolution, and cleaning their chambers."
My blood boiled. He didn't care about the pain he caused. Nothing fazed him. "You're treating people like animals! This is inhumane!" I yelled at him.
He looked at me with disappointment. "Look at them. They are animals. This is all for the cause, anyways. Later on they will be glad to learn that they were the first steps in the evolution of humanity."
He led me forwards, until we ended up at a massive hole in the floor, in the middle of the barn. It was about ten meters in diameter, and the bottom seemed to stretch downwards for five or so meters. There didn't seem to be any way in or out.
The man spoke. "This is where every Keeper before you has proved themselves worthy of Keeper status. Your induction begins now."
I felt a large shove on my back. The momentum carried my body over the edge of the hole, with my feet quickly following suit. In an instant reflex, I covered my head with the nook of my remaining arm, and leaned forward, hoping to catch the grunt of the fall on my knees, before rolling away.
I landed with a large thump, which sent volts of pain rippling through my body, and spread me flat across the ground. I laid there, still. The breath was taken out of my lungs, and my knees felt if they had shattered. I tilted my head up, to get a clearer look at where I was. A small, dusty hole, in the middle of a barn where people went to die. Nothing special about it.
There was movement in the corner of my vision.
It was something circling me, walking with a slight strut, and over-the-top movements, as if it was hard to stay balanced. Every step it made caused a sharp clacking sound to echo throughout the hole. I slowly got up, despite the pain. I swiveled my body to the side to get a better look, even if it was under dim light.
The first thing that made itself clear was that the thing had no neck. Its head ended at its shoulders. The second thing was that it had no eyelids. It stared at me with large, unblinking eyes, taking in every movement. The third was the sharp, steel talons that protruded from every fingertip.
And then it opened its wings. It spread its arms out wide, to reveal a quilt-work of human flesh stitched together under its arms. It looked at me for a few moments, head cocked, arms in a display of aggression, then it swiveled its head around. A full one hundred-and-eighty degrees. I was looking at a human owl.
The owl lunged forward, talons aimed directly at my chest. I lunged to the side, fearing for my life once more since the past few days. I wasn't fast enough. Its talons ripped through my clothes like butter, and left three large gashes across my chest. I ignored the pain, and immediately turned around to face the owl. The penalty for letting my guard down would be death.
The owl was still facing the inner wall of the hole. It twisted its head around to face me, its large eyes looking at me with an intense hatred. I panicked, and hopped backwards, aiming to avoid another attack from the owl. But then I came to my senses. If I was going to survive, I knew I had to make a move right away. The longer I tarried, the weaker I would become, and the lower my chances of living through this would become.
I threw myself at one of its wings, hoping to bring the owl down. It avoided me. In a lapse of judgement, I forgot to realize there was still a human under all of that, wanting to avoid death as much as I did. I rolled backwards, and leaped to my feet. The owl lunged at me again, talons extended. My first instinct was to dodge once more, but I suppressed it. The owl would be expecting that. I instead waited until the last moment, and threw myself into the steadily approaching owl.
I caught it off guard.
The owl flailed backwards, stumbling under my weight. I dug my fingers in the small gap between its head and shoulders, and started tearing of the stitches that held them together. The owl continued to thrash, realizing what I was doing. It dropped to the ground, and tried to claw me of its back, but couldn't reach because of its wings.
I continued to tear. One after another. I could feel the tension loosening. Another couple minutes of this, and I would be home free. The owl's movements started to decrease in intensity, and hit seemed to realize the battle had been won. I removed on last stitch, and the rest of the owl's head came of easily, dripping with blood.
I threw it to the ground and collapsed, exhausted.
I woke up in one of the bedrooms. My chest hurt like hell. I sat up in the bed, and pulled the covers away. There was three large scars across my chest, painful and tender to the touch, but obviously treated by someone. I looked outside a nearby window. It was the dead of night. I couldn't hear any noises inside, so I assumed everyone was outside in a tent, sleeping. Everyone except the man. He was sitting in the chair, and simply watching me sleep.
Mind games.
He looked at me as I stood up and raised an eyebrow. I began to walk over to him, despite the pain. He clasped his hands together. "Well done. You are now a Keeper."
I continued my slow journey.
"You asked me once what my main purpose was in doing all this. It's for everyone. You. Me. All the peoples of earth. Humanity is the highest lifeform. I am treating it as such. With my guidance, and your help, humanity will enter a new era. A new evolution."
I still made my way towards him. Everyone's outside. I'm alone with him.
"This was your sister's vision, and then it became mine. I am eager to see it become yours." He tensed up in his chair slightly. "This is not the only human zoo out there, we have spread our philosophy, and we are many. But go ahead, kill me. Continue the cycle. You will follow your sister's footsteps and lead the world into salvation."
I didn't think about it twice. I grabbed a vase of the bedside table and ran at him, weapon raised. There was a flash of fear in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't actually expect me to do that. He wasted precious seconds fumbling for his key chain.
I swung the vase onto his head.
He pressed a button on his keychain.
The jolt of electricity struck my entire body. The pain was so much worse then I had previously experienced. Each separate buzz sent my entire body thrashing against itself. I tried to push past the pain, and get a hold of the button, but I couldn't move by myself, let alone think.
Setting ten will straight up kill you.
My vision turned a searing white. I could feel my organs vibrating within myself. The pain was endless and unrelenting. This was how I went. The electricity was frying my insides, turning it into a liquid mush.
And then it stopped. It took a while to regain my vision, but even then it was unfocused and blurry. The man was still lying on the ground, breathing but unconscious. Pieces of the vase were still ingrained into his skull, sending small trickles of blood down his face. I removed one and slit his throat. It wasn't the death he deserved, considering all that he did.
But it was what he got.
I stumbled out of the room, to see Eddison pouring what looked like to be gasoline on the floor. I tensed up, ready for another fight. He put the gasoline can down and put his hands up.
"Hey, man. You can relax. I'm the one who helped you out there. You would have died if it wasn't for me."
I scanned his face, and I believed him. I put my fists down.
He continued. "I hated it here as well, but I could never find an opportunity to strike back. What you did was very brave."
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Blowing up this fucking hellhole." He simply said.
We worked together for a few hours, silently and in the dark. He had almost finished with the farmhouse, so we moved onto the barn, and finished with the tents. We ended up at Michael's car, and Eddison handed me a lit match. Signifying that he wanted me to do it.
I didn't give a damn anymore. Everything could burn.
I threw the match into a puddle of gasoline, and quickly drove of with Eddison, before the small fire turned into a raging inferno. We were about two miles out when the night sky was lit up in a burst of white light.
It was done.
Eddison turned to me. "Where are we going, then?"
I gazed into the rearview mirror, watching the horizon be engulfed in flame. There was the wail of firetrucks moving in from the distance. Someone must have called it in. I looked forward, at the gravel road in front of me, pondering the question.
"Home."
x

Hello, I have a 2014 Grand Cherokee Limited with a 3.6 V6 flex (gasoline) engine and I wanted to know if the transfer case is 2-speed. It has a button on the land selector (same as the photo). It has a button on the land selector (looking sitting in the driver's seat at the top left) that is to activate low traction (4 low).
Thanks in advance.
I live in Canada, it shouldn't have anything to do with it, but I'll clarify it because from what I understand, cars change depending on the country.

To many of us, NAFO is a place to make memes that bonk on Ruzzia cause it makes them look bad and boosts the moral of our brothers and sisters fighting in Ukraine. This is good, keep it up.
What I want to discuss, is how we can use the cyberspace to cause massive impacts with regards to undermining Ruzzian propaganda and by extension, support for the Ruzzian regime.
The topics I will discuss will make this post quite lengthy and it may seem on the surface that the points I a making are irrelevant or that I am taking a very long winded approach in order to get to the ultimate points I am making - but I will do my best to communicate the key components of each topic and why they are all related.
If that's okay with you, read on and buckle up - we're going to be covering a lot of intermediate and heavy topics first before we can get to the good stuff.
--------
Before we get started, I want to give you my perspective on how I see the World, the Universe and everything around me (yes, just bare with me...).
The Universe is this great big mathematical object. I theorised this some years ago, only to realise that a much better physicist than myself had the same idea with far superior backing and research for the theory than I ever could have applied (The Mathematical Universe Hypothesis - Max Tegmark, 2014).
The best that we can observe is that there are these little spikes of data representing what we understand to be subatomic atomic particles from the Standard Model within these spaces called "Quantum Fields". Actually - these particles aren't so much individual particles themselves, the particle is the excitation in that Quantum field. These excitations follow very rigorous mathematical laws - they won't change unless there is some external stimuli that affects them. When these excitations coalesce due to the physical laws of our Universe, we say that these particles have formed larger structures such as Pions, Hadrons and even Atoms. These atoms go on to form larger structures such as planets, stars, cellular life and the human brain.
All this is to impress upon you the idea that everything, absolutely everything, is the product of mathematical determinism. Even if we consider the probabilistic nature that Quantum Mechanics implies, this is in itself is a deterministic construct if we were to consider that probabilities are determined by the nature of the events leading up to the new event as yet to be determined - further, many scientists reason that this is evidence for a "Multiverse theory". Personally, I speculate that the probabilistic appearance of the Quantum world is indicative of axial dimensions that are additional to the classical x, y, z, t dimensions most of us are probably use to.
Regardless, the point remains. You do not have free will. No matter how much you may or may not want to believe it - Everything you are, everything you believe, everything you know, is a product of everything else that has happened before you.
"If the moon, in the act of completing its eternal way around the earth, were gifted with self-consciousness, it would feel thoroughly convinced that it was traveling its way of its own accord on the strength of a resolution taken once and for all. So would a Being, endowed with higher insight and more perfect intelligence, watching man and his doings, smile about man's illusion that he was acting according to his own free will." - Albert Einstein
The "decisions" you make are not so much a choice you ever really had, but the manifestation of the synapses in your brain responding to external stimulation.
---
To think about the Brain for our purposes, we need to think about it as a physical object. This object, and the conclusions it makes about the world around it, can be influenced, guided, manipulated and/or programmed. In a funny sort of a way it can kind of be thought of as a computer...
We are the products of our environmental conditioning - the events of everything that has happened before us and all the events that have shaped our experiences, make us who we are today.
Nature plays its part of course, nurture is nature. Both genetics and epigenetics will play significant roles in how we interact with the world; but consider this:
If a baby born to Chinese parents were to be adopted at birth and raised in Houston, Texas, will they speak English or Mandarin? I suspect that they will probably end up speaking English with a thick Texan accent, and that they may also find it difficult to identify many persons of Chinese origin due to a lack of exposure they have had to Asiatic faces.
“Give me just one generation of youth, and I'll transform the whole world.” - Vladimir Lenin
The stimuli that affects the brain can come from all forms of external sources. It will manifest itself by the way that we literally sense the world - every sight we see, every sound we hear, every smell, every touch, every temperature variable, every pattern we recognise. Recognising this and understanding how this relates to shaping the very experiences and views that people have of the world is the key to understanding how and why people believe what they believe.
---
Belief is a natural product of human evolution. There are no papers on this - this is my own theory, but I would bank a lot of money on it if I had any.
Imagine a hypothetical scenario in cave man times to keep things simple. Tribe A and Tribe B are at war with each other. Tribe A aren't the most abstract of thinkers, but they are all united on a common belief that Tribe B are "bad dumb-dumbs" that need their heads bonking. Tribe B, meanwhile, are arguing and debating amongst themselves about the ethics in their approach to fighting Tribe A and about who's method amongst themselves is the best to be adopted when dealing with the Tribal War Issue. Unless Tribe B can be unanimous and expedient in developing their strategy for dealing with Tribe A, then their advantage of greater capacity for abstract thought will be rendered effectively useless - Tribe A will wipe the floor with them (I'm looking at you Ancient Greece).
Human beings, for the most part, have a natural propensity for adopting belief systems irrespective of irrefutable evidence. Evolution does not require you to consistently choose and believe the objective truth. Evolution only cares that you adopt the strategy that is most likely to increase your survival, and more specifically, the survival of your group whom are likely to share similar genetic material as you. Belief, regardless of objective truth, is therefore a survival strategy in and of itself - the underlying strategy of which being to obtain social unity and cohesion.
In reality, a groups survival will depend upon a multitude of factors - but this survivability will increase if that group has many different members more capable of different skills and different kinds of abstract reasoning. It's why the concept of "Time and Motion" works, why the cells in our bodies all function to serve unique purposes, why symbiotic relationships in the animal kingdom work so effectively... Our collective capabilities, and therefore our odds of survival, are increased when individual members are able to specialise in areas the group as a whole can benefit from. We are very much a social animal - Mother Nature has dictated that we should be this way.
[As a side note: This also adds into my theory for why Autism in many is not so much a disability, but rather an evolutionary strategy that makes the neurological trade-off in the autist themselves that sacrifices social capabilities for increased pattern recognition and abstract awareness. Their social skills are not required if the group is well off enough and able to take care of them - the autistic person is able to provide a level of abstract thought and reasoning that can provide technology with the capability of increasing the groups probability of survival massively.]
For more information on this topic, I thoroughly recommend this Ted-talk on Homosexuality and Epigenetics.
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"Neuro-Linguistic Programming" (or simply "NLP") is, more or less, an applied science on how language and communication techniques can be used to influence (other people as well as ourselves). It is a "science"* that is exploited immensely in the fields of sales and marketing (*long story, some people hold the opinion it is a pseudo-science). NLP is used by psychologists and hypnotists and what it boils down to is the idea that communication techniques (as well as the utilisation of intelligently placed external stimuli) can be used to influence people into certain ways of thinking.
NLP can be used, and has been used, to alleviate people of their phobias. NLP is used to provide therapy for people to overcome trauma and depression. NLP is used to sell products. NLP can be used to convince people into sleeping with you. NLP can be used to manipulate large swathes of people into believing what you want them to believe. NLP can be used to elicit emotions like happiness, sadness, anger and practically any other emotion you can think of. It is used to achieve results. It is used, by those with the inclination to do so, as a means to achieve the outcomes from people that they themselves want to see in them. The most common use of NLP is in by making you believe that a choice you've made is the result of your deciding on a matter, and not the result of some smart fucker hacking into your neurological programming.
NLP is a tool. It is neither good nor bad. How it is used provides the basis for our own subjections as to whether something has been used for "Good" or "Evil".
Remember that the brain is just an object that is malleable and can be influenced by external stimuli? This is what it is about. Along with another field called Behavioral Economics, NLP is about controlling the perceptions and behavior of people - Behavioral Economics is the same thing but on a large scale. Just as Sales is to the Marketeer, NLP is to the Behavioral Economist.
---
This is propaganda. Now do you understand me? The underlying objective is to assist the propagandist in their (or their Masters') objective to attain, or retain control of, Power. The means by which they do this is by calculating the most effective ways to achieve the results that most fit their desired outcome. Do we want more people to quit smoking? Let's make legislation so that packs of cigarettes must have NSFL imagery on them so more people have an adverse negative reaction and association to it. Do we want Western nations to be divided so as to undermine their internal security? Let's pump out reactionary memes and propaganda to outrage the people and polarise the population into demonizing "the other side".
"Divide et Impera" - Latin: Divide and Rule - sometimes translated as "Divide and Conquer", Antiquity
Do we want to win the election by any means necessary irrespective of the values of freedom and democracy? Let's use AI technology to send out specific messages via social media designed to bring about strong emotional responses in those with the potential to be galvanized to voting in our favour, and other messages designed to make those who would vote against us apathetic to the voting process.*
"The greatest danger to our future is apathy." - Jane Goodall
[*This actually happened in 2016 during the Brexit and Trump Election campaigns using technology by a company called Cambridge Analytica - it's a wild story in and of itself, so check it out if it interests you.]
Do we want to convince the population that, what would otherwise be considered an unjustified war, is entirely necessary for our defense and security? 9/11 Let's blow up an some apartment blocks, kill hundreds of civilians, and use this as a justification to invade Chechnya!
Minds can be controlled. People can be manipulated. The results of these manipulations have real world effects and are very much considered by top military analysts as being major components of modern warfare along with other little known dimensions of conflict such as espionage, economic and political interference.
---
What happens when you train an Artificial Intelligence algorithm into identifying and producing propaganda unique to an individual?
To do this effectively, you'd need data... a lot of data... petabytes upon petabytes of data... both to train the AI algorithm in identifying the psychological makeup of a person and to train the algorithm into understanding what kinds and forms of stimuli are going to be most effective when trying to influence this kind of person. How would you do this? You'd need some kind of platform with an unfathomable amount of human resources.
Now imagine you have an application, with the structural architecture for keylogging, that aggressively harvests data from users phones, with a known history to censor content critical of authoritarian regimes, and has over 1 Billion active monthly users...
... what do you think they're going to be using all that data for?
For the love of all that is FUCKING good in this world. STOP. USING. TIKTOK.
---
We are up against individuals who are hellbent on their own power. These people will use the technology I have discussed to manipulate as many people as possible in ways that most suit them. They will divide us. They will make us apathetic, or they will galvanize us into blindly supporting policies or actions that suit them. Their fight is for control over hearts and minds - they had no intention of alleviating you of your chains, only replacing them with shackles they alone hold the key to.
---
By all means, carry on bonking vatniks with your clubs and your sticks when they carelessly wonder upon our turf - I certainly don't object... but I have the basis for a toolkit to help you develop highly accurate strategic information missiles to help you make significant impacts in the places where it most matters.
When you are making memes to combat Ruzzian disinformation, think about who the meme is for... is the meme for other fellas so we can fratbro with each other confirming what we already know and how great we all are? Well, you'd be preaching to the crowd... ofc we're fucking awesome! We haven't necessarily convinced anyone else of that though and we might have even pissed off some vatniks hard enough they want to go out there way to use slimey techniques to underhand us...
Maybe the memes we make could be aimed at those who are falling victim to Ruzzian (and Chinese) propaganda... maybe we could take a calculated approach to consider exactly what is going to be most effective method in dispelling the beliefs held by those who are sympathetic to Ruzzia. Maybe we can talk to people in such a way that gets them to change their minds.
Remember: the mind is malleable - it is a programmable object, we're not trying to program people with our own ideas, we are trying to alleviate people that have had virus's infect theirs.
---
We don't have to be looking at those spouting Ruzzian bs like vile creatures and enemies... if you're friend had a brain tumour, would you hate your friend or the cancer? (Fuck Cancer).
There's a good chance we will be more effective with removing the cancer from peoples minds if we adopt a position that is explicitly non-hostile. Imagine, from their point of view, what it would be to convince them to rethink their world-view. For the vast majority of those on the opposing side, they will need a way out accepting that they have done wrong in their lives without fear of being treated as a pariah (this is why the forgiveness and "born-again" narrative works so well for so many religions) - of course we want to treat them like pariahs because of the hurt we and our people have endured; but I ask you, what is better: hating on someone who is helping to push the Ruzzian narrative or letting it go and maybe having one less vatnik to worry about?
Our true enemies after all are those pulling the strings on the marionettes we see before us. To them, we should also be measured since they are likely calculated but with their own interests in mind.
---
To develop the perfect memes for our cause, you need to consider:

• What is going to have the most impact?
• What will spread to the most amount of people?
• What will have the greatest likelihood of alleviating our side from apathy?
• What will have the biggest impact in dispelling the beliefs of those who might be sympathetic to the other side? What will make them question the legitimacy of the false narratives they have been told?

When dealing with victims of Vatnik propaganda in person, you need to let them know that you are their friend and not like all the propaganda has led them to believe about you. Be NICE!
You can use techniques from NLP in order to communicate more effectively, but do it responsibly, it is not a tool to be abused.
In time I will try and develop this system so it is easier and more succinct to follow for your regular everyday normal fella. For now, and for those of you who have been brave enough to read this far, I have given you the underlying framework for understanding how communication can be used as a tool to directing people into a directed frame of thinking.
What I'm really trying to impose upon you more than anything else is the idea that we should be thinking strategically about our methods for addressing the issues of Ruzzian disinformation. Consider exactly what it is you want to achieve in combating misinformation and calculate the most effective means of communication in order to achieve it.

I'm sure you can guess who gets credit for the original universe.
CW: cursing, spacism, gunfire, predatory activities
Memory transcription subject: Jackson Kern, Human-Venlil Exchange Program Candidate
Date [standardized human time]: September 3, 2136
The news that Salvek got a whole 8,000 credits Not much money at all, but this business is cheap so it's more than enough. was a blessing to me. Ever since I was little I wanted to become a rich businessman in a fancy suit who ate caviar every night, despite the fact I hated seafood. In my defense, I didn't know what caviar was when I was 6, I just knew that rich people ate it.
But I quickly learned that starting a business meant I needed money, and my family was poor. Since my options were either crippling student loan debt, a job at McDonald's or the military, I chose the military. I invested my salary, which was actually pretty decent money for a guy whose only job was to shoot Russians, and I had a good chunk of money and a few profitable investments when my service ended.
I was on the path to success, but the divorce got messy and when she left me and took the kids she also took 167,564 dollars and $200 a week in child support payments.
When I tried to get my kids back, I was framed for stalking and harassing her, probably by a cop friend of hers, and the judge agreed to drop the charges on account of my military service. The sole condition was that I cease all attempts to get partial custody and cede another 80,000 dollars. I told my friends what they did, so some powerful friend of my ex's cooked up a scandal against me. They said I had PTSD from what I did in Russia, and they accused me of beating my wife. I couldn't believe it.
Now, I know she stole 200,000 dollars from me, and I know I served in the military, but I've always hated violence. No one believed me, though, and despite there being no evidence, I was forced out of town.
I decided to take it a step further and left my home planet because fuck those crooks.
I should've known that they were just out for my money in the first place, but I figure that regret doesn't do fuck all so I should stop regretting so damn much.
The tiny bit of my money they didn't steal was invested in several orbital shipyard firms, and I had it set up so that every week, 200 bucks get deposited from my account to my ex-wife's because the day they don't the UN or a squad of exterminators would break down my door.
Does Salvek know about ex-wives? Probably. I should give the furry son of a bitch more credit.
I was probably never going to be broke, since I was smart with my investments, or out of a job, since I was a soldier and every PMC or bouncer-less nightclub needs someone who can fight. I could make even more money on Venlil Prime if someone had the balls to hire me, but that's just one of the many downsides of species-wide racism.
Well, not quite species-wide. Salvek was cool, and I've met around a half-dozen other Venlil from the exchange program who didn't actively avoid me. (In Venlil terms, this means they're real Gs) My UHerd account had exactly eight followers, which is a great achievement on Planet Racist.
My pad buzzed, and I took it out to see that I had a ninth follower, who was a Yotul called Osori. A whole nine followers! Almost ten aliens tolerated me! Okay, that wasn't exactly the best thing to be proud of, but when you used to shit in a can in foxholes in Russia and a bucket was a godsend you kinda learn to take what you can get.
I was forced back to reality by the shuddering of the Venlil train stopping abruptly. God damn, are good brakes a strictly human invention? Or did the retards in charge of the Federation label wanting a smooth and easy way to stop 'predatory'?
I got up, remembering to crouch this time because fuck the designer of Venlil Prime trains for not anticipating that a 6'3 man named Jack would need to use them one day, and the monotone voice that announced everything on the thin slice of planet the Venlil called home droned "Welcome to the Grove District." That was my stop, so I and Salvek left. Salvek and I is the proper grammatical usage, but who gives a damn?
Salvek's third-floor apartment was just eight blocks from the train station, and I left this particular station without any problems of the flamethrower-wielding nature because exterminators here weren't as racist as exterminators everywhere else.
They gave me a few suspicious looks, more than a few but potayto, potahto, whatever but I was with Salvek and he was always protective of me so no one bothered me.
If someone told me a month ago that a tiny alien sheeple would be taking less shit than I did I would have referred them to a therapist, but the last few weeks have been crazy for me anyway.
Me and Salvek got to his apartment around nine PM, which is 'kill yourself' in Venlil time, but it was still fucking bright outside so I wasn't gonna sleep a wink. Why? Because God hates me, that's why.
The second we got inside and Salvek closed the door, I ripped off my mask and dropped it on a nearby table. Salvek had seen me many times before without it, and he didn't visibly panic at the sight of my forward-facing eyes anymore. *Incredibly common Salvek W *
Instead of pissing himself in fear like he did the first time he saw me maskless, Salvek just told me "I'm gonna take a nap. Next claw is my work claw, so wake me up in a bit." and went to his room. Claws are around five-ish hours, so I set a timer for four and a half hours and started doing Jack shit. Not jack shit, as in nothing, but Jack shit, as in shit that Jack does. Why did I refer to myself in third person?
First thing's first, I ate a hearty meal of some alien vegetables that I had no idea what to call but God, they tasted good. I will never understand why Venlil cuisine is so mediocre when they have ingredients like these to pick from.
After I finished off my salad, I poured some U.N. mandated vitamin mix into a blender along with some water and protein powder to make myself a protein shake. That was gonna come in handy later.
Once my protein shake got finished, I started working out since you can't get ripped without working out.
Venlil Prime is a high-G planet, so Venlil bodybuilders must be jacked under all that fur! I wonder if Salvek is ripped or not. Maybe he is ripped and I just can't see it? Maybe all Venlil are ripped but since the Feds tell them they're weak and scrawny they just took that to heart. Their minds might be the only thing stopping them from kicking ass.
Those were just some of the thoughts running through my head as I did my workout routine. For those wondering, I did 150 push-ups, 150 sit-ups and 150 weighted squats every day in sets of 50 each, and there wasn't much else to do but be tired and think when you're working out.
Once I was done with my grueling workout, Venlil have to be shredded if they work out in these conditions. I guzzled my protein shake to get bigger and turned on the TV. The remote felt like lead in my hand, half because of my workout and half because of Sheep World's gravity. Your average sheeple could probably beat the piss out of your average human, so why are they so damn scared of us?
I flipped through the channels Turns out even racist aliens have cable. Who knew? until I found an episode of this one show called The Exterminators. Turns out even racist aliens have cop shows. Who knew? Salvek always changed the channel when it showed up, probably for my sake, but I was kinda curious about how bad it really was.
It was bad. Really bad. Imagine if, back during the 40s and the civil rights movement, somebody made a show about the Ku Klux Klan. That's a pretty good analogy for The Exterminators.
Come to think of it, the extermination guild and the KKK are pretty similar. Too similar, really. But it's not like I can do anything about it.
A cheesy space cop show jingle played from the TV's speakers as the screen displayed a group of lizards Technically Harchen, but whatever. If they call me 'predator' I call them lizards. in silver flameproof suits running around and doing exterminator things. They torched a predator's nest, they torched a cartoonishly embellished Shadestalker with orange splattered on its mouth That was unusually graphic for a Fed show but ok., they torched a lot of things. It was their job to torch things.
As the main theme reached its climax, a beetle-like exterminator truck with a machine gun on top zoomed through the streets of a crowded Harchen city. Finally, the camera zoomed out and the lights of the city winked off until the only ones left spelled 'The Exterminators' in Venlilese. Thank god I could read Venlilese.
Below the main title the text 'Episode 389: Terran Trickery' popped up and I sighed. Why did everyone have to be so damn racist?
In spite of the blatant and unapologetic racism, giving the term 'Show about the Ku Klux Klan' a whole new meaning, I watched the whole episode. It was actually quite good, if you looked past all the racism and anti-human propaganda.
Twitter must have had a coronary when they found out about these motherfuckers. It would've been funny as hell to see, but you get what you get on Venlil Prime.
The episode opened with a scene of our exterminator protagonists chilling in the extermination office when a call came in to investigate a predator attack. They answered it, dropping a few cheesy one-liners along the way, and when they got there they saw three body bags, two cops and a human in handcuffs.
This next part was so fucking racist I can't even make it up. I bet somebody could, because somebody did, but I swear this is what I saw.
The human had claws, fucking eight inch claws that were coated orange, and your average shitty human canines were replaced with sharp fangs that were also splattered with orange alien blood. He tugged at his restraints, screaming threats, and the cops didn't do anything except for keeping a safe distance since no one had the balls to muzzle him.
When the exterminators showed up, the first thing they did was to muzzle the spacist caricature of a human and beat his ass with their electrified batons. Then they asked him if he knew anything about the bodies, to which he responded something along the lines of "You can't prove I ate them." The exterminators beat his ass again for that one.
Holy hell, and these were supposed to be the good guys. It's like a KKK member on an escalator the way the racism is on another level. If I wasn't such a kind and forgiving soul, I would throw a molotov cocktail into the show's filming studio.
The exterminators tortured the poor man for a little longer, and he kept saying things like "I bet you taste great raw!" and "I'll kill all of you like I killed the... no one!" because he was a racist caricature in a Fed propaganda reel.
Then, finally, the Venlil authorities showed up and released him, saying that humans had "diplomatic immunity, so you are not to touch him." That would've been fucking nice. Oh yeah, another thing. The guy who called off the flameproof SS squad was obviously in a trance. He had those spirals in his eyes and everything.
Was this meant to be human mind control? Probably.
The exterminators left, and then they started gathering dirt on the human in a boring detective sequence that was also incredibly racist so I used that time to pull up my pad and work on my business. I had four thousand and two hundred credits in my UN/Venlil Goverment sponsored bank account, which was more than enough for what I wanted to do.
I placed an order remotely for 100 shirts, all with the text "Dear Exterminators, My Eyes Face Sideways" on it. After that, I placed an order for some other household items of various shapes and sizes because fuck it, I have money. Those, unlike the shirts, would be useful to Venlil, so that increased my customer base.
That cost me around 2,300 credits since I was buying in bulk, so I used another 500 to rent a storage unit for 4 months and my last purchase of the day was 500 credits for a transport service to bring the merchandise to the storage container.
I paid my last 700 credits of the loan Salvek took out to a web designer to make a website for my business since I needed a website to sell things on. Two minutes after that, I asked for a refund and resolved to put all my shit up on TradeHerd since it was free. The 10% fee it charged per sale could just be countered by a price increase.
The show was getting interesting now, so I finished my business dealings and turned off my pad. The exterminator buggy had just pulled up to an abandoned Predator Disease facility, and the gang were getting out of it while armed to the teeth. From what I could gather, they had found the human's lair and they were going to put him down.
Of course they have to fight a serial killer in an abandoned mental asylum. Even aliens have clichés.
The exterminators swept the place corridor by corridor, using flashlights to illuminate anywhere where their victim could hide and always carrying flamethrowers. I had to admit that this was a tense and entertaining scene. Racists make good TV, who knew?
Finally, we got some action. The exterminators started to see moving shadows, some huge beast type thing, the usual "hunt down a dangerous ambush predator" type things. I know we're not ambush predators, but the Feds never got the fucking memo now did they?
Finally, the exterminator squad formed a circle to protect themselves and the human revealed its monstrous form. God, I sound just like a Fed right now. Is racism contagious?
He had fangs like knives, claws that were also like knives, and muscles like a bodybuilder who vehemently refused to take a drug test. Even I would've been scared if I met this monstrosity on the street.
One exterminator yelled "It's the predator's final form!" I wish it was. Imagine how much I could bench like that! and they all raised their weapons. The battle I was about to witness would have been well worth the 30 minutes of racist drivel before it. I need to use better words than racist. Bigoted, maybe?
I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for the exterminators to fight the roided-up superhuman, when there was a crash from the kitchen window.
Oh, for fuck's sake! Now I have to miss my show.
I stormed to the kitchen in a fury, scanning for the source of the crash, and I slammed the door open with a force I never would have done with Venlil around. I barged into the small room, looked around, and found what caused the problem.
There's a brick on the floor! How sturdy is this building, anyway?
My initial suspicions were overturned by the sound of another brick thudding against the wall, very close to a broken window. Damn, the window's broken. I'm cracking somebody's skull for that one.
The antics of a group of alien pranksters were nothing compared to what I had seen in Russia, so I was totally calm and collected as I stuck my head out of the window and yelled "Fuck off, my show is on!" Well, maybe not totally calm and collected.
The recipients of my harsh words were a group of two Krakotl, a Gojid and a Venlil who were piled into something that looked a lot like a pickup truck. The Venlil's fur was black, and cut quite short.
Exterminators. It's always exterminators.
"You're not welcome here, predator!" A Krakotl shouted at me before hurling another brick at my head. He missed, because aliens without depth perception couldn't throw for shit, but I ducked back behind cover anyway.
Another projectile also bounced harmlessly off the wall, so I poked my head out again and yelled "Just fuck off! You're all gay retards, and you should kill yourselves!" One of the Krakotl reached into his bag, and I yelled "Oh, yeah, throw another rock! Your dumbasses are just lucky I've got depth perception!"
He did not, in fact, throw another rock.
He drew a gun.
And he shot at me.
I didn't even know exterminators had guns.
If I hadn't served in the military, I probably would've died. But I did serve in the military, and I served in some of the harshest battles they could find, so I immediately recognized the metallic object as the gun I had seen a hundred times before, usually in the hands of people who qualified as civilians 3 seconds ago, and I took the expected response of ducking behind cover.
If I had my own gun, this would have been light work for me. But I didn't have a gun, and I wasn't Rambo or Batman, so I pulled out my pad and called the police.
"1234, what's your emergency?" Came a tinny voice on the other end of the line.
"I'm being shot at!" I blurted out, and I was sure the dispatcher could hear the loud gunfire going on outside. Did that bird-brain think his shitty pistol could breach a brick wall? Maybe Venlil bricks are weaker than Earth bricks.
There was silence over the line for a good two seconds, making the sharp cracks of the Krakotl's pistol the only sound, then the dispatcher stuttered "We- we're t-tracing your call now. Officers are o-on their way." Damn. I should have disguised my voice so as not to spook the poor sheeple. On a very related note, would the Venlil authorities delay the squad cars just because I was a predator?
It seemed like a pretty in-character thing for them to do, so I knew I had to take matters into my own hands at least for the time being. They were only shooting at me with a pistol for now, but what if they had grenades or Molotov cocktails stored in that truck? An exterminator could probably procure a firebomb, or at least a flamethrower, and if they used either one on me I was done.
The sensible thing to do would be to leave the apartment. The exterminators wouldn't know, and even if they used heavy weapons I would be safe from the fallout. As I began to crawl through the debris and broken glass, however, I noticed one thing was wrong.
Where the hell is Salvek? Can that bastard really sleep through a gunfight?
I've heard of and seen soldiers fast asleep while their comrades fired automatic weapons right next to them, so it wasn't impossible for Salvek to be snoozing. Plus, I had no idea how deep a Venlil's sleep was.
If it was just me and my show, I would've evacuated faster than we did in Russia, but I would never leave a friend to die.
Man, times like these make me hate my moral code. I love Salvek, but I don't wanna get shot for the guy!
I picked up a brick that the exterminators chucked through the window, adrenaline pumping through my body, and waited for the pause in gunfire that meant the gunman was reloading. Maybe it was a gun-woman? It doesn't matter, these hands preach equality.
Finally, after what felt like hours under heavy machine-gun fire, the gunfire ceased. I had to be quick now. Only a few seconds remained before the alien reloaded, and I couldn't waste even one.
With speed and accuracy that would make Babe Ruth proud, I took aim and hurled a brick at the Krakotl's head. This is why you don't get into a throwing contest with a species designed for throwing, you stupid pyromaniac fucks!
It hit him as he put the magazine into his pistol, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Only then did I realize that Babe Ruth, the guy who I just compared myself to, was not a pitcher.
The other Krakotl immediately began first aid while the Gojid went for the dropped gun. The Venlil, who was the getaway driver, sped away with typical Venlil cowardice. What? If they can call all humans bloodthirsty meat-eating savages I can call all Venlil cowards. At least I have a pass.
As the truck and its bigoted occupants made their escape, one of them tossed a match onto the space-grass lawn in front of my kitchen windows. It was not flammable, because alien grass does alien things, but a pattern of fire began to form on it.
I had seen that symbol before, when Salvek was clearing out all his religious stuff. It was the sigil of Inatala, the Great Protector. "Holy shit." I breathed, astonished.
"It's the fucking KKK in space."
First Previous Next comes when I say it comes

There’s a saying in my hometown: “Nobody leaves Copper Hill for good.”
For years, I’d mostly managed to defy it. In the decade that followed my graduation from Copper Hill High School, I hardly set foot in its vicinity.
Instead, I absorbed myself in my studies at an out-of-state university and, eventually, my career. I spent the little free time I had with my girlfriend, who I’d met as a sophomore in a chemistry lab, and her friends. When we eventually broke up, I lost not only her, but also what little social life I had.
It was in this state of loneliness that I found a letter from my old high school in the mail. This surprised me, as I hadn’t realized that anyone there even knew my current mailing address.
I opened the envelope to find an invitation inside. Its design was fancier than I’d expected, complete with gold-colored glitter, a royal blue background, and a finely-drawn silver border. It read, in cursive letters: Cheers for 10 Years! Zachary R. ___, Please Join Us for the CHHS Class of 2013 Official Reunion. It went on to list a start time and the school’s address.
On its back, it even contained a personalized handwritten note: I know you live far away, Zach, but it would mean so much to me if you can make the trip. Paul and I will be there, and Arthur may fly in as well. I’d love to catch up! Hope to see you soon – Vince K___, Co-Chair, CHHS Reunion Planning Committee.
Vince had been one of my best friends, once. You see, Copper Hill is one of those rare small towns where you can easily graduate from high school alongside the same friends you first made in kindergarten – in my case, my buddies Arthur, Paul, and Vince.
I’d spent most of my youth with them. The four of us were in the same scout troop, played on the same sports teams, and took mostly the same classes. On weekends – and on weeknights, when we felt like sneaking out without permission – we often stayed up late together playing video games and drinking whatever cheap beer we managed to keep hidden from our parents.
We’d meant so much to each other once. So why, since graduation, had I neglected them so badly? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d talked to any of them.
Perhaps this reunion could serve as an opportunity for me to reignite friendships I’d let fade. At a minimum, I knew that spending time – even just one evening – with my old pals would do me a lot of good, especially considering how lonely I’d been lately. Accordingly, I resolved to attend.
~
By the time I reached Copper Hill, I was an hour behind schedule due to congestion caused by an accident. As I approached town, I observed amidst the fading evening light that it appeared even quieter and more deserted than I remembered. Bars that had reliably drawn decent crowds on a Friday night ranged from boarded-up to barely occupied. Meanwhile, the few other cars on the street drove lethargically at speeds far below the limit, and I spotted no pedestrians.
In my memory, the school was only a short distance from the courthouse, city hall, and post office that formed most of ‘downtown,’ but my GPS took me down a long, unfamiliar route bordered on both sides by tall cornfields. I was about to pull over and double-check the address I’d entered when, sure enough, my headlights illuminated a sign in the school’s distinct black and red colors that stated: CHHS: Home of the Patriots.
The brick building that loomed behind it was just as I remembered, from its tall, towering middle section to the two narrower wings that stretched out to the left and right. Through the rectangular windows that lined the main building, I made out indistinct, shadowy figures milling about inside.
A banner displaying Welcome – 10 Years – CHHS Reunion stretched over the stairs that led to the main entrance. Underneath it, a familiar figure scurried towards the main entrance. “Arthur,” I said to myself with a smile.
Seeing Arthur improved my mood. He was the only other member of our class to leave town after graduation, and I suspected that he might share somewhat of an outsider status with me.
It’ll be just like old times, I reassured myself as I approached the building. Strangely, though, it still didn’t feel that way.
For one, the air had a staleness to it that was difficult to describe. It felt artificial and thin such that, as I climbed the front steps, I found myself needing to breathe in more of it than usual to avoid getting winded.
Plus, the school’s location still seemed off somehow. It didn’t make any sense – it’s not like a building this large could have been relocated. But, amidst the eerily quiet surrounding countryside, everything felt more isolated and remote than I remembered it being.
I tried to stop worrying. After all, with any luck, I’d soon be laughing and reminiscing with old friends who’d be happy to see me.
Inside, balloon garlands, multicolored streamers, triangle flags, and small banners welcoming attendees decorated the main corridor. I observed tables stocked with snacks, pamphlets, and information about fundraisers.
The only noise came from the intercom, which planned an era-appropriate Calvin Harris song. Everything necessary for a reunion was there, with only one notable exception: the people.
As I approached an unmanned table marked “Check In,” I wondered where everybody had gone. Perhaps the event had moved to a different room? I was late, after all.
As I added my signature to a sign-in sheet, my eyes scanned the list of other attendees who were marked as having already arrived. I recognized many names on it.
Like Alice, who’d shared a stand with me in orchestra. Our conductor was a hard-ass, a real disciplinarian who snapped at us constantly, and Alice was one of the many students he’d driven to tears on a semi-regular basis.
I’d had this petty fantasy of comforting her after class, and then mustering the courage to ask her out. But I never did it. It was Vince, actually, who’d ended up with her.
That had always annoyed me. I’d confided in Vince about how I felt about Alice and, soon after, the two of them were together. It felt as frustrating as it sounds. But, oh well, that’s what I get for hesitating for as long as I did.
Drifting down the hallway, my eyes caught the words “Reception” displayed over double-doors that led to the gymnasium. It made sense as the main location for the event – that’s where homecoming, prom, and plenty of major sports events were held, after all.
I could hear chatter, laughter, and the loud thump of dance music just beyond the gym doors. I approached it excitedly.
But, when I stepped inside, all the noise instantly cut out, leaving me in an eerie silence. Even more perplexingly, the room before me, like the entrance corridor, was entirely devoid of people.
A party had just been here, no doubt. I spotted a makeshift bar stocked with a standard assortment of liquor, tables holding half-finished drinks and refreshments, and an area cleared for a dance floor in the room’s center, but there were no people around. Had I missed everyone again? Where had they gone?
“Hello?” I called out, to no avail, as I drifted around the room in a state of bewilderment.
As I did so, I came across the entrance to the boy’s locker room. Just a whiff of the musty, sweaty smell emanating from it unlocked long-buried memories of the time I’d spent in there.
I remembered one occasion, in particular, where Paul had gotten pissed at me. Paul was usually a pretty low-key guy, but when he lost it, he went wild. On that particular occasion, he’d been angry with me, hadn’t he? But why?
I recalled his hot breath as he got in my face and screamed at me. When I gently nudged him away, he responded by slamming a locker door into my head.
My memories from that moment forward were hazy. There was a growing pool of blood, the pain of his fist against my cheek, and the cheering of the classmates who had encircled us. They were egging us on to continue the ‘fight,’ as if my beating could be called that.
I hadn’t thought about this event in years. How could I have forgotten something like that? My mind churned in confusion. Feeling dizzy, I took a seat on a bench that appeared to be part of a crude photobooth setup as my mind continued to replay this repressed memory.
As Paul had continued to pummel me, I’d spotted Vince among the gathered crowd. I’d begged for him to intervene. But neither he, nor our strangely absent instructor, had done anything to help me. It was only when Arthur got between us that Paul had reluctantly cooled off.
It had taken weeks for those bruises to heal. Had Paul ever been punished for it, or even apologized? Surely he must have. We’d remained friends, after all.
A strange pressure around my shoulder and a sudden bright light jolted me back to the present. The flash on the camera facing the bench I was sitting on had…gone off, somehow, even with nobody around to operate it. How was that possible? Maybe it was automated to go off every so often?
It didn’t make sense, just like so much else that was happening. Where was everybody, and whose voices had I been hearing? I’d seen people from the road, and I’d even watched Arthur come inside, but, as far as I could tell, the event was deserted.
I texted Arthur asking if he’d found anyone. For all I knew, he could have changed his number in the many years that had gone by since I’d last used it, but I figured it was worth a shot. To my relief, he responded right away.
Hey man, long time no see! Paul just called me. He says everyone’s up on the third floor, in Mr. Minelli’s old room. I’m on my way there now. Meet you there soon.
I couldn’t fathom why the entire event would relocate from the area clearly designated for it to the third floor. There wasn’t much up there, after all, aside from classrooms and a few administrative officers.
Nonetheless, I resolved to head up there. Arthur was there, after all, and hopefully the rest of my friends would be as well.
Navigating off my memory of the building’s layout, I hopped up a small set of steps that connected the gym to the second floor. From there, it would just be a short walk past a few classrooms before I’d arrive at the central staircase, which would take me to my destination.
I’d never seen the school quite this gloomy before. Each footstep echoed through the halls. The classrooms were weirdly empty, too, bereft of any decorations or other signs of use.
I recognized one as my calculus classroom. I remembered how, after class had ended one day, I’d come across a group of students congregating in the hallway.
Mary, Michelle, and Abby, like so many of my classmates, had grown up with me, and I’d always gotten along with them. But that day, they were harassing a shy girl – Morgan, I think. Calling her all sorts of names – ‘slut,’ ‘whore,’ ‘bitch’. She was trying to get away from them, but they wouldn’t let her leave. Their taunting of her became a regular thing, and it often left Morgan in tears.
What ever happened to Morgan? Like most of my friends, I’d known her since I was a little kid. She was quiet, but she was perfectly nice.
Then, one day, gossip about her started to spread. The type of nasty, embellished rumors that often make their way through high schools, full of sexist undertones and double standards. Her former friends shunned her, and she’d been subjected to taunting and ridicule as she walked to class and sat alone at lunch. And, one day, she was just…gone. I’d always assumed that her family had moved away, but was that true?
Growing up, Mary, Michelle, and Abby had always been sweet girls. I’d never seen them treat another person the way they’d treated Morgan. But Copper Hill High School had a way of bringing out the worst in people. There was just something about this building, this place, that ate away at their – at our – souls.
Had I bullied Morgan, too? Maybe not, but, once her mistreatment started, it’s not like I’d made an effort to be kind to her, or ever invited her to sit with me and my friends in the cafeteria. I could have done more.
I reached the central staircase. With each step that I took up towards the third floor, a feeling of dread ran through me. I’d seen something terrible happen up here, hadn’t I?
It was Paul and Vince. Arthur had done something to offend them. It could have been the rumors spreading about his reasons for never having a girlfriend, his diminutive size, or the way he’d reacted when Paul had beaten me half to death.
Whatever the reason, Paul and Vince – without my knowledge – had decided to subject Arthur to a cruel prank. After school one day, they’d lured Arthur up to the third floor, where they’d taken hold of him and tried to wedge him into his own locker.
Now, there’s a reason this sort of thing occurs primarily on 90s sitcoms: most people simply can’t fit inside of a locker. Arthur, as short and skinny as he was, turned out to be no exception, but this only made things worse for him.
As Arthur later related to me, Paul and Vince laughed rowdily as they slammed him repeatedly into the metal frame. By the time they finally relented, Arthur had bruises all over his body.
There were other horrible acts, too. Other victims, other beatings. It dawned on me that this place had been an absolute hellhole. It’s no wonder I – and Arthur, too – had gotten as far away from it as we could at the first opportunity.
The peculiar thing was that, in the years that had passed, I’d somehow forgotten all of this until just now. Instead, my recollections of high school were all happy, all positive. Had false memories of camaraderie and friendship drawn Arthur back as well?
Finally, I reached the third level. The overhead fluorescent light fixtures flickered sporadically, revealing, in brief spurts, dilapidated lockers, litter, and layers of dust and dirt that coated the floor.
I approached Mr. Minelli’s classroom. Through the shaded hallway window, I could discern the outlines of roughly a dozen figures inside. I heard a voice, too. It was muffled and indistinct, but I could tell that the speaker was giving some kind of speech. She stopped, and a loud round of applause followed.
I reached for the door handle, unsure of what to expect. Hopefully, it would just be the people I’d driven four hours to see. But, after the events thus far, I half-expected the room to be empty. If so, I was jumping ship and going home.
To my surprise, just before I made contact with it, the door slowly opened on its own. The brightly-lit room before me was filled not with people, at least in the general understanding of the word. Rather, the still, bony forms before me resembled the kind of props a biology teacher might use to teach human anatomy.
The skeletons that stood silently throughout the room – that stood posed with drinks, that sat at desks, and that had assembled around a speaker - had to be props, right? Even though Mr. Minelli was a history teacher?
My mind searched desperately for some kind of explanation. This had to be an elaborate prank, right? Had Vince and Paul lured me, and maybe Arthur, too, out here just to freak us the fuck out? I wouldn’t put it past them – it’s precisely the kind of thing they’d do, even if the whole set-up, complete with an array of prop skeletons, was a bit extreme.
But, then, who was making all the noises I’d been hearing? Was that part of the prank, too?
Fuck it, I thought. If this was a big gag at my expense, then I’d just have to deal with the embarrassment later. I was getting out of there.
“Zach,” called a strained voice in the hallway.
“If this a joke, then it’s not-”
The voice interrupted me. “Zach, help me, please!” It was Arthur’s voice, and it was coming from the hallway nearby.
He sounded like he was in serious trouble, so I hurried after him. Eventually, I found myself in a corner of the hallway – one where, if I remembered correctly, he and I used to have lockers. But, once again, I found myself alone.
I yelled out his name several times: “Arthur! Arthur!” It was no use. I appeared to be at a dead end.
That’s when the locker next to me shook. I jumped back, surprised.
It was shut, but not locked. I gripped the handle and pulled it open.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw inside: it was Arthur’s torso. The rest of his body was gone, and something was dragging what was left of him further away, further back into a dark abyss where the wall should have been.
Blood gurgled out of his mouth as he gasped my name one last time. He reached out a blood-covered hand. Hoping to somehow pull him out, I tried to take it, only for whatever unseen force had taken hold of him to pull him away, leaving behind a wide hole in the back of the locker. More blood gushed through it, leaking onto the hallway floor.
“So glad you could make it,” said a monotone voice behind me. I whirled around to see two fleshy arms emerge from another locker across from me. The skinless figure left wet, red stains on the white surface as she got to her feet and stepped towards me. “Don’t you recognize your old crush? Surely ten years haven’t been that rough on me.”
“A-alice?” I stuttered, stepping backwards.
Lockers all around me started opening, each accompanied by a new pair of bloody, seemingly boneless arms of figures that slowly crawled outwards.
My survival instincts kicked in. I sprinted away, my legs frantically carrying me towards the main staircase. All around me, figures emerged, reaching out to me as I passed by. Through an open door, I noticed that another classroom was filled with skeletons, just as Mr. Minelli’s had been.
When I reached the main staircase, it was guarded by a tall, fleshy figure. “Don’t you want to be with us?” it asked in a familiar, deep voice that I knew to be Paul’s. “We can be complete. A full class. All of us, together again. Like old times.”
He lurched for me. Just barely, I managed to dodge him, but I lost balance in the process. Before I knew it, I was tumbling down the stairs. Pain shot through me as I collided with step after step.
Finally, I landed on a level surface. Dizzily, I climbed to my feet and did my best to ignore the soreness that spread throughout my body.
A quick glance upwards confirmed that the bloody figures – the ones that somehow resembled my old classmates – were, indeed, heading towards me.
Meanwhile, the temperature inside was rising noticeably, and the walls around me were steadily changing in color from a dull gray to a deep red.
As I scrambled down the rest of the stairs and across the main corridor on the first floor, an intense tremor ran through the building, sending me sprawling to the ground. Despite a sharp pain that spread through my ankle, I hobbled as quickly as I could to the exit.
I didn’t look back as I made my way across the parking lot to my car. I started the ignition, backed out, and headed towards the long road I’d used to get there.
In my rearview mirror, I chanced a glance back at the school. It was shaking violently, like it was being struck by an earthquake.
My car lurched in different directions as the ground underneath me also started to rumble. In an effort to avoid my car being sent off the road and into the neighboring fields, I frantically steered it to the center, between the lanes heading into and out of town.
When I looked back again, the school was, somehow, even closer to me than it had been before. How was that possible? Was it following me?
I floored the accelerator. Row after row of cornfield flew by me as I drove at the fastest speed of my life.
~
I was on the edge of town, close to the nearest interstate ramp, when local police pulled me over.
As the officer approached me, I stared into the rear view mirror. At the first glimpse of whatever it was that had chased after me, I’d hit the road again, law enforcement be damned. In truth, I hadn’t seen my pursuer since I’d exited the cornfield a few minutes ago, but I hardly felt safe.
“Clocked you going nearly a hundred, son,” said the officer.
I stayed silent. My baffled self was unsure of how to best handle the situation.
The officer gave me a quizzical look as he examined my ID and registration. “You’re Don and Fran’s son, aren’t you? The one who left town?”
I nodded.
“Why’d you come back?”
“There was, uh, a ten-year reunion. For my graduating class.”
He shook his head. “I doubt that.” He looked down, then at my perplexed face. “Where, exactly, was this ‘reunion’?”
“At the school,” I said. I struggled to understand his reaction. What about my story didn’t make sense? And, regardless, was I about to be booked for driving fifty miles over the speed limit? Is that something they throw you in jail for?
“Wait here,” barked the officer. He went to his car where he proceeded to have a long conversation over his radio. After a few minutes, he returned to me. “Get out of here, son. Leave, and don’t come back. Don’t do something like this again. You hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” I said, astonished.
“Then scram,” he ordered.
I obliged and began the long journey home.
~ I had no idea what to make of what occurred. I can hardly find anything at all online about Copper Hill High, or any of my classmates who went there, and I’m not exactly eager to reach out to any of them.
I can’t make much sense of what happened, but I am sure of one thing: that I barely made it out of that situation, and that I shouldn’t press my luck much further.
My ankle needs some more time to heal. Once it does, I’m going to try joining a social club and making new friends. After what happened to me in Copper Hill, I decided that the past is not a place where I need to dwell any longer.
Two weeks have passed since the reunion. Today, an envelope with no return address arrived with my mail. It contained a single photograph on glossy paper with a short note written underneath.
The photo featured me on the bench in the photo booth. Sitting to my side, with his arm over my shoulders, was Vince. He wore a blue collared shirt and looked…normal. No missing skin, no bloody imprints on the surface around him.
Paul crouched behind us, a dopey grin on his face. He, too, looked just as I’d imagined he would in his late twenties. To Paul’s right, Abby, Morgan, and Michelle posed together with their arms around each other.
It was…a perfectly ordinary image - the exact kind of photo you’d expect to be taken at an event like that.
The handwritten caption underneath read, “Although your visit was briefer than we preferred, we all had a splendid time catching up with you, Zach! Please feel free to come by anytime! Nobody truly leaves Copper Hill, after all. – Vince K___, Co-Chair, CHHS Reunion Planning Committee.
P.S., the note continued, We are delighted that Arthur has finally joined us. Maybe you will, too, at our 20th.
The writing up to this point was cursive font in traditional black ink. The last few words, however, were larger in size, messily scrawled, and colored a deep shade of red: See you then, buddy, if not sooner.
X

With 10th edition right around the corner and with its focus on the Nids. I thought it be fun to showcase the Swarmlords various battles and try and get a good idea where he should stand as threat. Since he can comeback stronger every time, I hope we get to see him fight someone like Trajann Valoris. If the nid are going to invade Terra that is.
BATTLES:

• Vs Calgar: Couldn't find a quote, however it comes from "Codex Tyranid (5th & 6th edition)". At "the Battle of Cold Steel Ridge" on Macragge the Swarmlord directed Hive Fleet Behemoth to defeat every one of Marneus Calgar's tactics. Calgar himself was almost killed by the Swarmlord, but managed to escape alive with the help of his Honour Guard while Swarmy killed the Commander of the Guard Aloyseus. The Swarmlord led the attack on the polar fortresses of Macragge defended by Captain Invictus of the Ultramarines' elite 1st Company. In the end, the entire 1st Company was killed and official Imperial reports listed the Swarmlord as slain at that time. Calgar has a rematch with Swarmy in Ichar IV. With Calgar evening the score by killing the Hive Tyrant.

​

• Vs Ortan Cassius: Couldn't find a quote, however it comes from "Space Marine Legends: Cassius". He killed the Swarmlord & his Tyrant guard with the assistance of a squad of like 10 marines. However, the only reason he managed to pull it off is because, the Swarmlord wanted to end the fight quickly. So, he resorted to a psychic attack. Unfortunately for Swarmy Cassius had been training with Tigurius on his psychic resistance. So, while the Swarmlord had his back on him. Cassius manage to recover quickly, and surprise attack Swarmy. He hit Swarmy's head with a powered crozius. The Swarmlord's head was then doused with fire from Cassius' combi-bolter's flamer and was forced onto its knees. There Cassius' squadmates pumped its vital organs full of Hellfire rounds while the Chaplain repeatedly beat its head with his powered Crozius. This continued for a few minutes until Swarmy died.

​

• Vs Prince Yriel: to be honest not much of a fight. Swarmy kinda just gets one-shot by Yriel using a Crone-Sword. - (Valedor):

”He landed lightly upon the gory corpse of a fallen giant. Before him the swarmlord loomed, taller than a wraithknight and greatly more massive. Its eyes glittered at him with malign intelligence.
‘Great Dragon!’ Yriel called, holding aloft the Spear of Twilight. ‘I come to slay you, as my forefather Ulthanash slew the wyrm Draoch-var with this very blade!’
Three huge creatures lumbered at Yriel, directed by the psychic command of the leader-beast, but he leapt aside from their swipes, the spear granting him unparalleled reflexes. One and then another fell, pierced by the pin point lance beams of the prince’s followers as he bounded closer to his prey. Roaring, the swarmlord attacked, driving down a claw twelve paces long at Yriel. He back-flipped, the wind of its passing stirring his hair. The tip of the claw slammed down into a carcass, slowing the hive tyrant for the merest heartbeat as it tugged it free, but it was enough. The prince landed on his feet. Smoothly he drew back his arm and cast the spear of Ulthanash at the creature. The spear screamed a polyphonic wrath-song as it hurtled through the air, passing in an eyeblink to pierce the jaw of the swarmlord, drive up through the soft mouth into the swollen brain case, and emerge, gleaming, from the top of the armoured skull.
The swarmlord toppled, lifeless. Yriel yelled in exultation, feeling more alive than he had in many cycles. He had become jaded by his life as a corsair. But this! This was the theatre of life full in the round!

​

• Vs 3 Custodes: Fought three Custodians, killing two and was fighting on par with their Shield Captain. - (Duty Unto Death):

”A single pod cut through the toxic fumes and the burning sky, hammering into the centre of the plain and the milling confusion of the alien horde. There was an instant realignment, like constellations suddenly clarified in the heavens. The army turned as one, unified by singular purpose once more. The thing which tore itself free from the spore-pod was immense, the pinnacle of genetic mastery and a paragon of inhuman might. The greatest bio-scholars of Terra could not decide whether it was a consciousness in its own right, or an immune response of the hive mind – brought into being when the tide was set against it.
The swarmlord raised its head and bellowed as it rushed forward to meet them.
iIt closed the distance in what seemed like moments. A blur, the storm given form. Blades scissored down against the Custodians. They blocked, even their movements too slow. Bio-electric fields warred with the power fields of their weapons in a whine of feedback and a shower of sparks. It forced Varamach to his knees, and the great cleaver blade descended, burying itself in the armour of his neck. There was a spasm and a gout of blood, and he had only a moment to drive his spear up and into its flesh before he fell. Another loss, too massive to countenance. Natreus ducked under its guard and slashed across its chest, but the swarmlord brought all four of its blades to bear. It pinned Natreus, blades barely containing him as he struggled, blood coating them in furious smears. The Custodian’s spear fell from his grasp, and the swarmlord cast him to the dust.*
Only Tamerlain remained. He broke into a run, swinging his axe as he advanced. The heavy castellan blade impacted against one of the boneswords, chipping it. There was no surprise in its dead eyes, only a snarl of alien hate.
‘This is His domain,’ Tamerlain said, not caring whether or not it could hear or understand. ‘I am His servant, and you shall not end me with my duty yet undone.’ He moved beneath its dance of blades, feeling them scrape against his armour – turned aside by angle, speed and the armour’s inherent strength. It snarled, dripping venom as it stabbed down at him. He dropped to his knees, his hand finding Natreus’ spear. ‘Forgive me,’ he whispered, and drove the unpowered blade up with such force that it cracked the monster’s armoured sternum. It slammed one of its blade limbs into his side, and he brought his axe up again. An arm flew free in a gush of sour fluid, and it batted him aside with the flat of another blade.
They were evenly matched. Opposites. Mirrors. One the pinnacle of human genetic mastery, the other a crescendo of accelerated hyper-evolution. One was golden, the other base.
They fought down the burning slopes, even as the tyranid swarm wove around them in a tightening noose. By-blows obliterated swathes of brood organisms. The swarmlord did not care as it scythed through its own, as it drove Tamerlain back. He fought with every century of his experience behind him. He could feel the names carved into his armour, pressed against his flesh. Each carried a burden.
He moved as fast as he was able, raising his axe to block and parry or to cut and slash. Their melee devolved into a grinding brawl, drawn out and bitter. He tensed as he fought, feeling the dull ache of fatigue. He struck for its thorax, cleaving it open even as it brought two of its blades round.
It pincered him in place. He felt something break in his armour’s systems, his gauntlet clenching in palsy. He closed his eyes and focused. It was more gruelling and more intense than any Blood Game he had run in the service of the Throne, more pressing than any battle of his long years. He felt his fingers close, finally, around the hilt of his misericordia dagger, and pulled it free. He pushed it up and drove it into the thing’s snarling visage. Dissonator spirits engaged with a flare and the blade blazed golden for a glor­ious instant as it sank through flesh and chitin. The beasts screamed, every last one of them howling in animal agony.
Tamerlain kicked out his leg and drove the dying monster back. Behind him, the world roared again – in sympathetic victory.

​

• Vs Dante: - (Devastation of Baal):

" Fifty yards away was the largest hive tyrant Dante had ever seen. Upon backward-hinged legs it stood taller than a Dreadnought. Red spore clouds pumped from the chimneys on its high back. Bonded to its fists were four matched boneswords, with heavy ends as square and brutal as cleavers. He had heard of this thing, the galaxy’s bane, the hive mind personified.
Commander Dante faced the Swarm Lord.
His perception coalesced around the monster. Reality reasserted itself, his visions driven off by the sheer physicality of the hive mind. The past gave way to the present. The sounds of battle returned, albeit muted. The horde was broken into pieces. The howling of his blood-mad warriors was scattered, so isolated there could only have been a few of them left.
In the monster’s eyes glimmered an ancient and powerful intellect. As old as he was, Dante felt like a newborn babe compared to the intelligence staring at him through that unblinking gaze. He sensed that there were two beings looking at him. The monster, and the being that controlled it. They were separate, yet one. A sense of crushing psychic might emanated from it, so great its grasp encompassed galaxies. There was sophistication there, and terrifying intelligence, but all were outweighed by its bottomless, eternal hunger.
For the moment that the man and the monster stared into one another’s souls, Dante pitied it. The hunger of the hive mind made the Red Thirst trivial by comparison.
A rumble sounded in the monster’s throat. Muscle fibres exposed by gaps in its chitinous armour contracted; that was all the warning Dante received. There was no threat display, no roar to intimidate, it simply hurled itself into the attack. The hive mind was nothing if not efficient.
Despite its size, the Swarm Lord moved with staggering speed. Its alien anatomy made its attacks difficult to predict, and Dante found himself fending off a blur of jagged bone. Crystal veins glittered in the blades, generating a shimmering energy field like none Dante was familiar with.
The Swarm Lord’s weapons met the Axe Mortalis with a thunderous boom. Dante reeled back from the blow, letting out a brief blast from his jump pack to steady himself, dodging narrowly to the right to avoid a return strike from the Swarm Lord’s two left-hand swords. He ignited his jump pack fully, making a short leap backwards as the swords from the right smashed into the desert where he had been standing. The energy field encasing the blade exploded the sand.
As the beast slammed down its weapons he snapped off a quick shot with the perdition pistol. His aim was honed by centuries of practice. The meltabeam cut a roiling line through the air, connecting with the Swarm Lord’s lower left elbow joint. An explosion of steam carried the smell of broiled meat out towards Dante, and the thing’s arm went limp.
It made no cry of pain. As it moved forward, its useless arm snagged on the ground. With an total lack of human emotion, it severed the crippled limb with a sword blow and moved in to re-engage. Dante leapt again, jets on full burn. He swooped low, darting in to strike and withdraw. His fuel indicators plummeted, but Dante remained aloft, soaring away from bonesword strikes with expertly timed exhaust bursts. His blows left a dozen smoking scars in the Swarm Lord’s carapace. It responded with a buffeting storm of psychically generated terror that had no effect on the Space Marine lord, so deep in the thirst was he. The thirst grew in Dante until he stood on the brink of the Black Rage, a pit he could never climb from. He resisted the urge to finally throw himself in. The strength this last surrender would grant him would be formidable, but his mind would be gone for good, and so he would perish. Not until this thing was slain would he abandon his last shreds of self-control. He had to know that it was dead.
He focused on his hate, on his desire to kill, on his need to rip this interloper’s head from its shoulders and cast it to the sand.
The Swarm Lord’s armour was thickest on its shoulders, head and back. They duelled for long minutes, Dante landing so many blows that the edge of his fabled axe dulled, and its power unit vented black smoke. All his skill could draw but a little blood. The Swarm Lord snapped and swung at him with undiminished might.
Dante needed a decisive blow soon. The Swarm Lord’s endurance would outlast his own, and one lucky strike from the beast’s weapons could end the fight long before exhaustion set in. So Dante dived in again, axe held low in the manner of a cavalryman stooping in the saddle to strike with his sabre. Jinking through swinging boneswords and into the spore cloud issuing from the Swarm Lord’s chimneys, he raked the blade of his weapon across the leader beast’s face, catching it across one eye. He was momentarily blinded by the swirl of red microorganisms belching from its back, and forced to touch down.
The two combatants wheeled to face each other. The chitin around the Swarm Lord’s right eye was cut down to a gleam of bone. Ichor and humours from its ravaged eye wet its cheek.
Dante smiled coldly. ‘I shall take your other eye, and then I shall kill you.’ In return the leader beast shrieked, a psychic assault that channelled the polyphonous voice of the hive mind into a concentrated mental blow. Dante reeled under the combined sonic-psionic blast. Something gave inside him. He tasted blood at the back of his throat. His mind suffered more than his body, and he staggered back, dazed, his axe dragging through the sand.
The Swarm Lord seized the opportunity and ran at the commander again. Dante blasted backwards, but even as it charged the Swarm Lord assailed Dante with fresh psychic attacks, sending out a lance of psionic energy that cut through his armour into his leg and knocked Dante wheeling from the air. He slammed into the ground with bone-jarring force. His face slammed into his helm, breaking his nose. The terror field halo around Sanguinius’ golden mask buckled and gave out in a skittering crawl of psychic energy. His iron halo’s energy field failed with a bang.
The thing screamed again. Dante’s being was deadened from the soul outward. His vision swam. The energy his thirst gave him was stolen away. The Swarm Lord thundered at him, head down, three swords back, ready to strike. Dante regained enough of his wits just in time, activating his jump pack while he was still on his back. The jets sent him scraping across the ancient rockcrete and sand of the landing fields at high speed, drawing a shower of sparks from his armour. Alarms wailed from every system of his battleplate.
A second, brain-rattling impact shook him as he connected with the wreck of a Land Raider. The systems diagnostics for his jump pack wailed at high alert, red danger runes blinking all over his helmplate. With a thought, he jettisoned his jump pack, rolling free of the stuttering jump unit as the Swarm Lord barrelled into the tank wreck with such force it lifted from the ground. The Swarm Lord turned on him quickly, grinding Dante’s jump pack into a pool of fire and sundered metal under its broad hooves. The Land Raider slammed back down.
More alarms rang in Dante’s helm. On standard battleplate, a jump pack took the place of a Space Marine’s reactor pack, replicating most of its functions as well as providing limited flight capability. Without it, Dante was left in a suit of armour with only residual power.
He had seconds left of combat effectiveness at the most. Emergency battery icons clamoured for his attention, bars sliding quickly down to red emptiness.
The Swarm Lord screamed. Psychically induced horror buffeted Dante’s mind, tormenting him with dread. Dante roared back, unafraid.
‘I am of the Lord of the Blood,’ he said, as he broke into a run, the alarms of his dying armour wailing in his ears. ‘What I do, I do for he who made me. No personal ambition is mine. No glory do I seek. No salvation for my soul or comfort for my body. No fear do I feel.’ The Swarm Lord swung at Dante hard. Dante retaliated with a counter blow, shattering the bone sabre. Thick alien fluids pumped from the broken blade. The eye set into its hilt rolled madly, and it began to shrill. ‘By his Blood was I saved from the selfishness of flesh.’
The Swarm Lord was unmoved by the death of its symbiotic blade. The stroke continued downward, the remains of the sword catching Dante below his breastplate and penetrating his plastron. A combination of Dante’s impetus and the Swarm Lord’s immense strength punched the bone fragment deep into his body, penetrating his secondary heart, scraping on his spine, and exiting the other side of his torso.
The creature snarled in what would have been triumph in any other species. Dante’s formidable progress was arrested. Hissing deeply, the Swarm Lord lifted Commander Dante off the ground, armour and all. Warm blood ran down inside Dante’s bodyglove. Toxins leaked from the Swarm Lord’s weapon, sending spiders of agony crawling along his nerves.
‘By his Blood was I elevated.’ It was over. He began the Mors Votum. The Swarm Lord lifted him high, screaming in victory, and swung its arm down to flick Dante from the blade’s shard so it might finish him on the sand.
Reactive foams bubbled from Dante’s armour, bonding him firmly to the remnants of the Swarm Lord’s blade.
‘By his Blood do I serve.’
The beast hesitated, only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. As it was raising its remaining two blades to cut Dante in two, the commander raised the perdition pistol. His armour died on him, its systems starved of power, growing heavier with every second as his life ran from his body. His aim did not waver.
‘My life I give to the Emperor, to Sanguinius, and to mankind,’ he intoned. The Swarm Lord’s face was reflected in the dulled metal of Dante’s mask.
Sanguinius’ face shouted silently at the hive mind.
Dante disengaged the weapon’s failsafes with a flick of his thumb.
‘My service is done. I give thanks. My life is finished. I give thanks. Blood returns to blood. Another will take up my burden in my stead. I give thanks.’
He fired the perdition pistol at point-blank range into the Swarm Lord’s face. Its flesh liquefied and boiled off as superheated steam. Its first bonesword bounced from Dante’s armour, ripping long scratches into its decoration. Bloodstones fell from their mounts. Still Dante held his aim true. The pistol’s power pack grew so hot with thermal feedback it blistered his skin through his ceramite. Still he did not relent. The fusion beam bored through the creature’s organic armour. Thermic biogels bled from cavities in the chitin, but they could not stay the perdition pistol’s beam. The weapon glowed with white heat. The Swarm Lord reared backwards. Its cries became gurgles as its tongue cooked in its head. Desperate to be free of Dante, it severed its own wrist with a clumsy strike. Dante blacked out for a moment from the pain of the bone shard jarring his organs as he hit the floor. When he came to he was lying on the ground. The Swarm Lord slumped to its knees alongside him. Its movements were feeble. Keening quietly, it fell forward, chest heaving. Air whistled through its breathing spiracles, then ceased. Dante rolled his head to one side. One of the boneswords lay close to his face. The eye set into its hilt stared hatred at him before dimming. The pupil dilated. The sword, too, was dead.
Dante took a painful breath. Fluid bubbled in his lungs. His body ached all over from the tyranid’s poison.
He was dying."

​

• Vs the Overfiend: Couldn't find a quote, however it comes from "War Zone Octarius, Book 2: Critical Mass". The Swarmlord face the second largest ork in the galaxy twice. The first time he charged at the Overfiend, battleling for hours nonstop. However, the Overfiend after getting a shot off at the Swarmlord's midriff, decapitated swarmy. Swarmy angrily was rebirth in a bioship ready for round 2. In said round the Swarmlord bid his time. Only jumping into the fight after the Overfiend had been wounded by a carnifex. He then uses his agility to evade the Overfiend's attacks, in an attempt to tire him. The Overfiend however never relented nor slowed down yet in the midst of a swing the Swamrlord found an opening. Which he use to cut the cable of the Overfiends power-claw. With his power-claw now slowing him down the Swarmlord made quick work out of him. Eating his brains in the process.

Hello, Everyone. Just moments ago made this account solely to post this, but I've been browsing this reddit without an account for awhile trying to create a load order that would work without any crashing and have some mods that I would like to play with. Unfortunately I've not been able to do this successfully, so I'm now asking for help. The crashing may occur but may not always occur when entering or existing a place, I don't believe it matters where as it's happened in different areas. It has also occurred when scrolling down the inventory of a chest, as well as when just walking a certain distance.
I'm playing on Skyrim Special Edition but with Anniversary Edition update installed, as well as with all the Creation Club content installed. The specific Xbox I'm playing on is the Xbox One X, if that matters.
This is my load order, I believe I am following a logical load order but still am not successful with the mods that I have together playing without crashing. I'm not opposed to swapping out one mod for another, or removing a mod entirely, as I've already done both to more than a few before posting this.
The template that I'm using is based off this one that I've found under a comment from a post on this forum, it's apparently based off Gamer's Paradise Server's LLO template. Not every mod is in the specified order that it should seemingly be based off the LLO's criteria, but that's only due to a certain number of mods explaining in their description where they should be placed in a logical load order or placed in conjunction with another mod (I.e. above/below a particular mod.) Either that, I'm actually unable to move it since it's unable to go lower than I would otherwise cause it is apparently a master file mod. Still, do feel free to correct any mistake I've made unknowingly even in regards to this, as I am asking for help cause I'm sure some things are just in the wrong area. It may be that certain mods or a combination of them are too script heavy, or perhaps something else entirely as in a dirty edit within a mod.
This is my load order as follows, along with the load order template which is why some areas are completely empty but still shown. Thank you for any kind of help, please.
Master Files — These mods auto-load to the top of your LO. You cannot move these below any non master file mod.
• Unofficial Skyrim Special Edition Patch
• Unofficial Skyrim Modder's Patch (It actually isn’t visually showing up in my load order but it is download and enabled, I believe it is placed here although I cannot see it for reasons I'm unaware.)
• Simple Workaround Framework
• Campfire: Complete Camping System
• Orange Steal & Pickpocket Text
• Reconciliation: QOL and Bigfixes
• Reconciliation: Gameplay and Quest Alterations
• Reconciliation: AiO: USSEP Patch
• Better Container Controls
• Reforging - To the Masses (Weapons Expansion)
Foundations & New Gameplay Mechanics — Mods that affect the whole game, mods that make a lot of light edits, mods that add entirely new mechanics.
• Ugh. Mods Manager Cap.
• Alternate Start - Live Another Life
• Cutting Room Floor
• USMP - Cutting room floor Patch
• Relationship Dialogue Overhaul - RDO
• RDO - CRF + USSEP Patch
• USMP - RDO Patch
• Cheat Room
• Quest Debugger
UI / Font / Menu Changes — Any mod that edits the menus, the user interface, heads-up display, font mods, etc.
• 60 FPS Menus - Natural Interface
• Font Overhaul - Natural Interface
• Oblivion Interaction Icons
• SkyHUD - Oblivion Preset - Pastel Icons
• Dialogue Interface Reshaped - Immersive w/NPC names version
• Gregorian Skyrim Calendar
• YOT - Your Own Thoughts
• YOT - Your Own Thoughts for Campfire
• Relationship Change Notifications
• Qwix Favorite Menu
• Dear Diary Lockpick Interface
• Daggerfall-Style Animated Main Menu Screen
• Lore-Based Loading Screens
Audio - Music & Sounds — Music additions and replacers, sound effects edits/replacers, player voice mods, etc.
• Chapter II - Jeremy Soule Inspired
• Sounds Of Skyrim Complete v2.0
• Immersive Sounds Compendium 3.0
• Immersive Sound Compendium - CC AE Patch
Existing Quest Alterations —Mods that alter vanilla quests in some way. Path to Volkihar, Quests for Good Guys, etc.
• Double Beds Are For Two People
• Go To Bed (Hand near your body)
• undress for bed
• JaySpera's Quest Expansion Bundle
• JaySpera's Quest Expansion Bundle USSEP Patch
• Heart of Golf - An Adoption Bundle
• Charitable Soul (a mod for good guys)
• Miraak - Dragonborn Follower + Dialogue Overhaul
Craftable Only Items — Mods that add new items by adding new recipes to crafting stations. Crafting only armoweapon mods.
• Armor of Intrigue - Modular Armor from the Witcher 2 - SE XB1 Edition
• Wearable Lanterns
• Skyrim Outfitters: Ebony Backpacks for Adventuring
• Skyrim Outfitters - Backpacks for Adventuring
• Vanity Mirror
• Warmonger Armory - Belt-Worn Dragon Priest Masks Only by batmanna
Existing Game Mechanics Changes — Mods that alter existing mechanics such as jump height, run speed, sneaking, death, all sorts of - mechanics.
• Minimalistic Auto Save
• Linker Crafting Storage
• [XB1] Unlimited Rings and Amulets
• BIG Jump 2X (Jump Twice as Higher)
• Sneak Tools
Level Progression Changes — Mods that alter levelibg/progression in some way. 50 pct More Perk Points, Double Perk Points, mods like that.
• Character Creation Overhaul AIO
• Dealing With Backstories v2.3
• Dealing With Backstories RDO Patch
• Reflection - Level Up Messages
• [XB1] Truly Absorb Dragon Souls - Heavu by AdventurerX
Perk Overhauls — Mods that alter the player character's perks/perk trees by editing vanilla perks or adding new perks.
• Perks & Magic Mega Bundle - Ordinator Version
• Monster Perks, New Shouts, Unique Stones & More Bundle
Magic Overhauls & New Spells — Mods that overhaul/tweak vanilla spells or mods that add new spells.
• Frozen Electrocuted Combustion
• Sun And Soil: A Restoration And Alteration Expansion Bundle
Loot Leveled Lists Edits — Mods that alter loot Leveled Lists. Dynamic Dungeon Loot, Summermyst, Equipment Flexibility, Project, etc.
• Fashions of the Fourth Era
• (XB1) Narrative Loot - 1,629+ new items - Housewares, Furniture, Books and Misc Props
Enemy Leveled Lists Edits — Mods that edit enemy NPC Leveled Lists. Examples: Enhanced Skyrim NPCs, NYFS.
Items Attributes & Effects Changes — Mods that edit items effects or stats. Examples include Reliquary of Myth and mods that alter armoweapon/etc stats.
Grass Mods — Self-explanatory. Mods that edit vanilla grass or add new grass types go here.
Landscape Fixes — Landscape Fixes for Grass Mods is usually the only mod going here.
Skin Meshes & Textures — Mods that add new body meshes or skin textures.
• Bella Beauty AND THE BEASTS Bundle
• RS Children Overhaul
• RS Children -Cutting Room Floor Patch Heart of Gold / RS Children Patch
Skeleton Replacers — Mods that replace the vanilla Skeleton. Most often, XP32 or one of its variants will be the only mod here.
• Belt Fastened Quivers
Idles & Animations — Mods that edit existing or add new animations or idles.
• Comprehensive First Person Animation Overhauls
• First Person Camera Sway - Idle
• RBE's Enhanced First Person Camera Bob
• Animated Clutter SSE
Weapons & Armor Meshes & Textures — Mods that include textures for weapons and armor.
• Truly Unique Weapons
• The Original Sleeving Skyrim - No Bare Arms
General Meshes & Textures - Blood, Magical/Enchant FX, Flora, ect. — Basically, any Mesh or texture mods that isn't landscapes or weapons/armor. All architecture textures can go here.
• Luminous Atronach
• R.A.S.S. (Shades and Effects)
Landscape Textures & Mountains, Roads, Snow, ect. — Mods that include landscape and landscape-related textures.
• Enhanced Texture Detail by Some_Random_Guy_83
• Haze 2 - Weather-Seasons-Atmosphere (Fixed & Updated)
• Haze 2 - Sounds of Skyrim (tonycubed2 version) Patch
NPC AI (Non-Combat) — Any mod that affects NPC AI that isn't combat-AI related. AI Overhaul for one goes here.
• AI Overhaul
• USMP - AI Overhaul Patch
• RS Children / AI Overhaul Patch
Existing Followers Changes — Mods like Serana Dialogue Addon that edit existing vanilla followers in some way.
• Improved Follower Dialogue Lydia V. 3.3.
• Flackjacks17's The Good Erik
• Serena Expanded - Dialogue Added
Player Immersion Mods — Mods like Run For Your Lives, some hearthfire mods, the one that keeps npcs from interrupting you, etc.
• Guard Dialogue Overhaul
• Immersive Speech Dialogues
• Skyrim Reputation
Player Character Beauty/Facial Modifications/Presets — Mods that edit the player character's facial features. Hair, eyes, teeth, skin textures, etc.
• Better Male Presets
• HG Suga Roughed
NPC Beauty Overhauls/Facial Modifications — Mods that overhaul/beautify NPCs faces. Pandorables, Seranaholic, etc.
Weather Mods — Mods that alter existing weathers or add new weathers to the game.
Interior Lighting — Mods that alter interior lighting values/settings or add new lights to interiors.
Single Edit Areas — Mods that edit a single location in some way, be it a Jarl's Palace or a Hunter's Camp.
• Crystalwind Estate and the Waterfalls of Rielle
• Naalslaarum - A Forgotten Vale Player Home
Multiple Edit Areas — Mods that edit 2 or more exterior locations in some way.
• DMT's Northern Encounters SE v4. 0 1k
• Word Walls Relocated (XB1)
• Hero- A Fort Takeover And Bounty Hunter Bundle
Exterior Lighting — Mods that edit exterior lighting values/settings or add new lights to the world.
Unique Items Added To Locations — Mods that hand place items in the world.
• Magpie's Immersion Books AIO
Combat Mods — Mods that inprove/edit enemy NPCs Combat AI, Movement, Stamina Actions.
• Wildcat - Combat of Skyrim
Enemy NPC Improvements & Edits - Stats, Attributes, Perks, etc. — Mods that improve enemies stats, attributes, perks, combat abilities, etc.
New Followers & Frameworks — Mods that add brand new followers and Frameworks like Immersive AFT and IFF.
• Immersive Follower Framework Overhaul
• Immersive Follower Overhaul RDO Patch
• Xelzaz - Fully Voiced Argonian Telvanni Follower
• Xelzaz - Fully Voiced Argonian Telvanni Follower Anniversary Edition Plugin
• Remiel-Custom Voiced Dwemer Specialist Companion XB1
• INIGO (XB1)
• Kaiden 2.1.1.
• Lucien - Fully Voiced Follower
• Lucien - Anniversary Edition - All-In-One Creation Club Patch
• Redcap the Riekling - A Fully Voice-Acted Immersive Follower and Quest
• Redcap the Riekling - Creation Club
• Nebarra - Fully Custom Voiced Altmer Follower
• Song of the Green (Auri Follower) V 1.4
• Auri-Inigo Banter Patch
• Auri / Kaidan Banter Patch
Added Creatures/NPCs — Mods that add new enemy creatures/NPCs/spawns to the game world.
• Real Wildlife by Nedius
• Realistic Elven Children (Aymar and Friends Reimagined)
• Adoptable Snow Elf Siblings
New Quest Mods — Any mod that adds new quests to the game.
• More To Say 9.0.2
• Rotmulaag - Meditations on the Words of power
Map Mods — Quality World Map and map marker mods pretty much.
Water Mods — Any mod that edits or retextures water
Tree Overhauls & Additions — Any mod that edits vanilla trees or places new trees in the world.
Top of Bottom of LO — .INI Tweaks, LO-irrelevant Mods, Insignificant Object Remover, Patches (potentially), etc.
• Insignificant Object Remover
Bottom of LO — Mods that need to load as low as possible

I've been shooting 35mm film for some time now. Mostly on my Canon rebel K2.
I really enjoy working with film and the K2 is a great camera (it kinda does a little of everything) but I've had an itch to upgrade (downgrade?) to something heftier with better build quality, something a little more mechanical and analogue.
I've whittled my choices down to 2 cameras:
The Canon EF or the Olympus OM-1 (both built in the 70's).
I like how they can still operate even with depleted batteries. Their built well too. I really thought the EF was going to be my purchase but ever since I came across the OM-1 I can't help but appreciate the size and design. I like how the shutter speed selection is on the lens.
On the other hand the EF offers some interesting features, like being able to take multiple exposures. The viewfinder light meter looks to be a little more sophisticated too. Also, I have a good offer for an EF.
This feels like a choice between a Ford Mustang or a Dodge Charger. Their both great I just haven't been able to actually test either one to know for sure which I like.
​
What are your thoughts?
Thank you

This is Part 2 of this write-up. Please read part 1 first. This is the link:
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/143r7l9/felix_vail_the_pedophile_serial_killer_caught/

PART 2:

ANNETTE CRAVER:

Born on the 7th of December 1965, Annette Craver was intelligent and creative. At 15 she was a singer-songwriter and in her senior year at a private school that specialized in medicine. Her dream was to become a midwife.
http://charleyproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/vail_annette6.jpg(A photo of Annette Craver.)
In the summer of 1981, she and her mother, Mary Rose greeted people at a friend’s yard sale in the Montrose neighborhood in Houston, Texas. They had just returned from a vacation in Mexico, and Annette felt heartsick, still infatuated with a boy named Adolfo, who was unable to join her in America.
VAIL MEETS ANNETTE
While people browsed the sale, Vail pulled up on a motorcycle and spoke with Annette. He was 41 and had done some carpentry work in the area. “When I saw her, I thought, ‘That’s going to be my new girlfriend,’” he said about the 15-year-old.
In April 1982, Rose and her daughter invested in a Tulsa home that had a rental cottage behind it. Rose began renovating both. After graduating from high school, Annette joined her mother in Tulsa. Vail appeared a few days later, and convinced Annette to leave with him on his motorcycle. They lived off the $500-a-month Social Security check that she received from her father’s death 3 years prior. It would be over a year before Mary Rose would see her daughter again.
That fall, Annette (who was still 15) would fall pregnant, and Vail would force her to have a painful abortion.
Jerry Woodall, reportedly friends with Vail later recalled an embarrassing scene, where the 42-year-old Vail was in a sleeping bag, having public sex with a 16-year-old Annette, only 20 feet away from him and his then-wife Meredith McMackin. Annette grinned and waved at them. Woodall and McMackin did their best to ignore them.
McMackin would later say that Vail had “this coldness and controlling aspect to his personality. Annette was so open and alive, but I think he just totally dominated her. He would try to convey that he was this higher form of being. At first, I thought maybe he was evolved, but then I realized it was this arrogant act.”
Later that summer, police in California would arrest Vail for violating probation a dozen years earlier. Annette telephoned Woodall, who gave her $200. After Vail walked free from prison, he and Annette decided to get married. However, as a 17-year-old she needed permission.
Annette told her mother that she loved Vail, that they were already “spiritually married” and that they would travel to Mexico and get married there if she refused. Not wanting to lose her daughter completely, Rose said OK.
On August 15th, 1983, in Bakersfield, California, the couple were wed.
AFTER THE MARRIAGE
Four months after the marriage, Annette turned 18, allowing her to collect more than $98,000 ($293,500 today) from life insurance policies on her late father. Accompanied by Vail, she withdrew all the money in cash from a San Antonio bank. She bought a Fiat convertible that Vail liked and paid for his dental work.
In April 1984, Rose returned home to find Annette waiting at her door. She told her she wanted to divorce Vail, and enroll in college. She talked about Vail’s temper, including an incident where he had broken his hand trying to punch his wife. He missed and hit a wall.
A few weeks later, Vail showed up. The couple fought constantly, and Vail left after a few days. Mary Rose said that Vail was “insanely jealous” and would become furious when Annette spoke of her desire to go out with younger men.
She and Annette worked on renovating the two homes after Vail left, enjoying their time together. The 2 even started a garden together.
Annette received a letter from Vail, who vowed their time apart would fuel their love. He wrote to her: “After we hung up, I went out to a park and ran and hung and talked with God and smoked some and shot some pool and rode with the top down out through the marsh playing ‘Iron Butterfly’ [“In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”] and bathing every inch of your body-spirit being with love.”
He referred to being away from Annette as “deprivation jail” and to her ego as “his jailor.”
“The idea of her cutting away ego’s “feeder roots and creating roots between your spirit and the cosmic ground of loving makes me hot for you. My mind is kissing you everywhere.”
After that, Vail would return to Annette’s life. Rose said, “Annette told me, ‘Felix is the wisest person in the world, and I can’t make decisions without him.’” His influence on Annette had only grown stronger. According to Rose, she even compared Vail to God, a comparison Vail agreed with.
After this, the couple angrily insisted that Rose move out and deed the house to Annette. Accompanied by suicidal thoughts brought on by Vail’s continued control over her daughter, Rose left for California to stay with family and friends, deeding the house to Annette for $7000 ($21,000 today) before she did.
Annette would add Vail to the deed, and a month later had deeded him both homes, leaving him as the sole owner.
ANNETTE’S DISAPPEARANCE
Mere weeks after deeding the houses to Vail, the couple told neighbors they were leaving on vacation. When Vail returned in October, he was alone.
Vail told a neighbor that Annette had a lot of money wither her when he’d left her, and that she was likely visiting friends in Denver.
Upon learning that Annette hadn’t come back with Vail, Mary Rose called him. “He told me that while they were camping, Annette had a sexual dream about being with other men in Mexico, and she wanted to go there,” she recalled to an investigative reporter years later. “He claimed that the dream made them both realize that she should have her freedom.” The next day, Vail told her he had put Annette on a bus with $50,000 ($150,000 today) but didn't elaborate.
On Oct 22, 1984, Rose filed a missing person’s report. She told the Tulsa Police Department that each person who spoke with Vail “gets a different story about the amount of money that Annette took with her and where she might be. We all believe that he knows where she is or has done something with her.”
On January 22, 1985, Detective Dennis Davis and another officer questioned Vail at his home (This is obscenely late to start questioning him). By this point, Vail had filed for divorce, citing an inability to find her after a “diligent search.” Davis said her mother, Mary Rose, mentioned her daughter had received more than $90,000 from her father’s estate. Vail confirmed this was true, saying the couple had spent much of that money traveling in foreign countries. He said they kept their money in cash because they didn’t trust banks and that he had found about $10,000 in cash when he returned home.
The next day, Vail called a lawyer, who promised to talk with the officers and tell them to “leave me alone,” as he wrote in his journal.
When Davis returned five days later, Vail had a detailed alibi: The couple left Tulsa between noon and 3 p.m. on Sept. 13, 1984, and stayed the night in a hotel in Claremont, Oklahoma. After two nights of camping on the river, Annette woke up and told Vail she had decided to leave him. He took her to the Trailways Bus Station in St. Louis and left before she bought the ticket. (There is no Trailways Bus Station in St. Louis, and there has never been a Trailways Bus Station in St. Louis.)
He told the officers that she had told him she was headed for Denver, where she planned to get a fake ID card and leave for Mexico. When asked if he would take a lie detector test, Vail said no.
After Davis left, he wrote a letter to Rose. He blamed her for the “bad things” about Annette, told her that after the couple had returned from Costa Rica Annette had been “seeing friends and relatives --- completing her relationships with them for the purpose of getting ready to drop everybody and start over.” He wrote that Annette “disappeared herself from you” because Rose kept imposing her “value system” on her, and said Annette viewed her mother, grandmother, and herself as “zero self-image whores for approval.”
He explained the 2 had no plans to communicate, he did not know where she was, and that “I also assure you that even if I did know, I would not tell you.”
When Rose returned to Tulsa in April 1985, she entered the cottage Annette used to live in, only to find almost all the young woman’s belongings were gone, including her clothes and her diary.
Inside a Barbie suitcase, Rose found a photograph of her daughter and several of her identification cards. She also located things that Annette had written, including a Feb. 17, 1984, note that contradicted Vail’s claim that the couple had spent most of her inheritance on their travel to Mexico and Central American countries.
Instead, the note detailed how they used the money to buy the Fiat, pay off all of Vail’s loans, and deposit $36,000 into Louisiana Savings. It said that as of that day, they had $41,600 ($125,000 today) in cash.
Rose shared the information with the police. Detective Davis showed up again, and Vail told Davis the couple divided the money into smaller cashier’s checks, contradicting his earlier statement that they kept the money in cash.
After a while, Davis left, and despite the (seemingly obvious) suspicious behavior of Vail, closed the missing person’s case.
AFTER ANNETTE’S DISAPPEARANCE
Rose kept calling Vail after this and was finally able to reach him on September 14th 1985.
When asked about Annette’s whereabouts he refused to tell her.
When asked about Annette’s missing clothes he said he gave them to charity.
When asked about the insurance money, Vail told her ‘That’s all she really cared about.’ Rose hung up.
Two years later, fed up with the lack of progress in Annette’s case, Rose would return to Tulsa. She spent thousands of dollars on private investigators to locate Vail. When that failed, she simply went and found him herself.
Tipped off that he was staying at someone’s house, she went there with a friend and found him sitting outside. When asked where Annette went, he replied “Mexico.” When asked where in Mexico, he said the 2 had made a pact to contact each other every 5 years, contradicting his statement that the 2 didn’t have plans to communicate. Rose didn’t believe a word of it.
The whole time Vail never looked up, never stood up and never looked her in the eye.
BETH FIELD
Some time after this, Vail began dating Beth Field. Soon the couple had began arguing, and Vail would call her a “whore.” During a December 1987 argument, he would strike her so hard he ruptured her ear drum. She told Vail there was no justification for violence, to which he responded, “If you quit behaving like a whore, I’ll quit hitting you.”
In August 1988 Beth received a call from Rose, sharing details about the disappearance of her daughter, Annette. From that point forward, Field said she began to examine Vail’s words more closely, realizing that he had likely murdered her.
Four months after the call, he entered her home unannounced. Already drunk, he accused her of “imagined promiscuity,” according to a court order. He slapped her, struck her, and threw her across the bedroom. She asked if Vail was going to kill her, to which Vail replied, “It depends on what you tell me.”
A judge gave her a protective order, requiring Vail to keep his distance. Two weeks later, the sheriff reported that Vail was nowhere to be found.
While Field was visiting a meditation center in Texas in 1990, Vail arrived. After composing herself, she told him “There is a part of you that goes off, and it’s sick and it’s dangerous.”
He looked at her and asked, “Really?” She said “yes, really.” This time, the message seemed to go through. Vail left the next day, and with a single exception about five years later, she never saw him again.
MARY ROSE LEARNS ABOUT THE OTHER 2 CASES
In the summer of 1991 (6 years after Annette's disappearance), Rose drove over 2000 miles to Canyon Lake, Texas to speak to Sue Jordan, Felix Vail’s sister. Jordan said that Vail had told her that Annette wanted to leave, that he took her to a bus station and that she left with some Mexican men, heading for Mexico. Jordan also mentioned that Vail’s first wife had drowned, which was news to Rose.
Before she left, Jordan also told her, “Oh, you know, there was another woman that disappeared. I remember her mother calling my mother for years, checking to see if they’d heard from her. I think her name was Sharon.”
After the conversation, Rose sat down at a typewriter, writing every word she could remember. She also called the public library in Lake Charles.
The librarian remembered the 1962 drowning of Vail’s first wife, Mary Horton. She told Rose that he had taken out life insurance policies on his wife prior to her drowning and that the insurance companies were suspicious and didn’t pay the full value. The librarian made copies of newspaper articles and mailed them to her.
After reading them, Rose reached out to Mary’s family in Louisiana, speaking to Will Horton. He shared her suspicions about Vail and a copy of the 1971 National Enquirer article made after Vail's son Bill reported him to the police. When she read it, she learned that Sharon’s last name was Hensley.
In 1994, she read in the newspaper about Dolores Strehlow’s disappearance from Medford, Oregon, seven years earlier. Police had just arrested her husband, thanks to the work of Detective Terry Newell. She contacted Newell, who helped her find the family of Sharon Hensley. When Rose dialed the Hensley family, Sharon’s mother, Peggy, answered. Rose asked if Peggy knew a Felix Vail. Peggy replied with "you bet I do"
THE INVESTIGATION HEATS UP… AND COOLS DOWN
The detective who helped Rose before, Terry Newell, contacted Jim Bell, a national expert in serial killings working for the FBI. When Rose talked with Bell, she felt like she'd finally gotten somewhere. He was interested in working on the Vail case if he could swing the time. He still remained busy with active serial killer cases, helping train task forces across the U.S. Vail’s son, Bill, told Rose that he was willing to testify, as long as authorities provided protection to his family. Both the Tulsa police and the district attorney’s office in Lake Charles revived their investigations into Vail, now considered a suspected serial killer.
Bell suggested the victims’ families gather with authorities at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia, to share information on Vail. He was unable to work on the case and left the FBI in 1995. The meeting in Quantico never materialized, and the cases involving Vail grew cold once again.
A QUICK RUN DOWN OF EVENTS
In the fall of 1997, family and friends held a mural for Annette.
Diagnosed with esophageal cancer, Vail’s son Bill heard from doctors that he didn’t have long to live. He’s quoted saying “now I’ll get to be with my mom.” Months before passing away in 2009, Bill talked about his father in a recorded interview with his pastor at Grace Church in Overland Park, Kansas.
On Jan. 3, 2009, Bill died, and Vail wrote in his journal, “I feel a large empty hole in my being where his life presence has been for 47 years,” before writing about getting a good haircut. He drove to Kansas but didn’t attend his own son’s funeral. If he had, he would have heard the recording, with his son detailing how he had overheard his father talk about murdering Bill's mother, Mary.
When Vail learned of the recording, he wrote to Pastor Tim Howey, asking for a copy. He blamed his son’s statements on “false memories,” saying, “I have not known about it until now and am stunned.”
In 2012, while attempting to confront Vail with reporter Jerry Mitchell whom she had contacted to write about Vial, Rose was stopped by Kaye Faulkner, Vial’s sister. She told Rose and Mitchell of the recording and urged Mitchell to get a copy of it. She also said that she believed Vial had murdered Mary Horton, Sharon Hensley, and Annette Craver.
She gave the reporter Vial’s number, as well as the numbers of her other brother, Ronnie, and her sister, Beth. Vial didn’t answer those calls, so Mitchell left a message. Ronnie promised to speak to his brother on his behalf.
MITCHELL INVESTIGATES
Mitchell arrived in Lake Charles and stopped by the Southwestern Louisiana Genealogical and Historical Library, which shared copies from old city directories. He began tracking down people who had lived in the Maree Apartments with Felix and Mary.
Many described Mary’s fair of drowning. A close friend of Vails, Judson McCann II described Vial as a ladies’ man, and insinuated he was a cheater. “Many nights, his car wouldn’t be home, and Mary would be there with the lights on. When Felix was gone, it wasn’t because he was trotline fishing.”
Another close friend, Bob Hodges described Vial’s story of Mary ‘falling’ in the river as “horse manure.”
A college roommate of Mary, Sandra Sudduth Pratt, said “Nobody believed it was an accident.”
Mitchell shared Mary’s autopsy report with pathologist Dr. Michael Baden of New York City, who concluded that foul play had taken place in her death.
The report showed large bruises with bleeding into tissues on the left side of the neck, which he said suggested she suffered forceful neck trauma before entering the water. There were hemorrhagic bruises to the right calf and left leg above the knee, which he said were consistent with a struggle before her submersion. But most convincingly of all was the scarf authorities found around her neck that extended 4 inches into her mouth, which suggested traumatic asphyxia before entering the water.
“Somebody had to push that scarf into her mouth. She had to have that scarf wedged in her mouth before she was put in the water.”
A cousin put Mary’s brother Will Horton in touch with former detective “Rabbit” Manuel, who had headed up the Calcasieu Parish Sheriff Office’s investigation back in 1962. He had never forgotten Mary’s death. “Felix’s story just didn’t add up. The fishing tackle was dry. The trotline was dry. The boat was dry. Even Felix’s cigarettes were dry, despite him telling the deputies he dove straight in the water to save Mary.”
He and Manuel met with “Lucky” DeLouche, who directed an elite task force unit that investigated homicides. Three young detectives took notes as they talked. Manuel shared details from the case, saying deputies (officers) wanted to prosecute, but the district attorney wouldn’t let them. Horton shared the autopsy report, Vail’s letters and his belief that Vail was a serial killer. Horton said DeLouche replied, “This absolutely fits the profile of a serial killer,” to which the other detectives agreed.
Shortly afterwards, DeLouche left the task force, and for seemingly the hundredth time, grew cold again.
After Mitchell posted a story about Vail titled “Gone” (It’s nearly 9,000 words long, and the precursor to the 35,500 word story I have drawn heavily from) a man named Wesley Turnage contacted him. He told him of a conversation he had had with Vail in 1963 during a car ride.
According to Turnage, Vail called Mary a bitch and said she thought another child would help solve their marriage problems. He quoted Vail as saying, “She wanted to have another kid. I didn’t want the one I got. I fixed that sorry bitch. She will never have another one.”
Mitchell would make another discovery. District Attorney Salter Jr. had ordered that the judge dismiss 882 criminal cases — more than three cases for each working day.
Will Horton told Mitchell the original detectives in the case told him that Salter wouldn’t allow them to present the evidence they had collected against Vail. That matched the stories Mitchell had heard from grand jurors’ families.
Horton then contacted District Attorney John DeRosier, who said he would be willing to reopen the case if there was enough evidence.
Then came an interesting wrinkle in the story. Finding Vail.
He’d disappeared, returning on Labor Day weekend 2012 to sell his property, before disappearing again. Luckily, another reader of "Gone" came to the rescue. He phoned Mitchell, telling him where Vial was. Canyon Lake, Texas.
Mitchell then contacted Enzo Yaksic, founder of the Serial Homicide Expertise and Information Sharing Collaborative. Yaksic then contacted Armin Showalter, acting chief for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, which specialized in serial homicide investigations.
Yaksic shared a copy of GONE with Showalter, who in turn called Calcasieu Parish Deputy Randy Curtis, now taking on the Vail case. Curtis phoned Mitchell to find out where Vail was. A few days later, he called back to say the FBI had discovered Vail purchased property at 737 Shadyview Drive in Canyon Lake.
On Jan. 18, 2013, Curtis decided to confront Vail. He found him at that address, living in a storage shed. Curtis said he read Vail his rights before asking him about the death and disappearances of the women. Vail refused to say anything, accusing families and The Clarion-Ledger (Where "Gone" was published) of lying about him. The whole time, Vail couldn’t stop smirking.
​
Will Horton gave Mitchell the number of his cousin, who was a caretaker for 90-year-old Isaac Abshire Jr. When Mitchell sat down with the man, he shared a haunting story.
Abshire had worked with Vail and offered him a room to rent out. Once Vail and Mary were married, Vail had moved out. Abshire viewed himself as “a big brother” to Mary, calling her “a sweet little girl.”
After the marriage, Vail had become angry at work, talking about how ugly his wife was when she was pregnant, and how he didn’t like his baby. On the Friday before she was killed, the couple visited Abshire, bringing Bill, who was still an infant. Mary privately asked Abshire if he thought Vail could take her baby away.
Two days later, Mary was dead.
Abshire and two other workers went out the next day to drag the river. The next morning, Oct. 30, 1962, he returned with one of them, Jimmy May, to continue dragging.
Abshire said while they were talking, “something popped up. A guy with binoculars asked, ‘Does she have blonde hair?’ I said, ‘Yes, that’s her.’”
They recovered the body, and Abshire could never forget what he saw. Her body was rigid, and a scarf was wrapped around her neck before going into her mouth. Blood boiled on the boat, everyone voicing the same opinion. Vail had killed Mary.
Abshire had kept photos from that day for over 50 years. He said he had given them to Deputy Curtis as well as a copy of the 1962 sheriff’s report, which listed 15 points suggesting Vail’s guilt.
Despite being behind on major bills, Vail had managed to pay an entire year’s premiums in advance for a $50,000 ($150,000 today) life insurance policy on his wife. He had a second life insurance policy on her for $8,000 ($24,000 today), which promised to pay double if she died by accident.
It was almost as if he knew she was about to die.
Deputies had reported witnesses claims that Vail had told them he didn’t love his wife, that she looked stupid and vulgar, and that he had had sexual relations with multiple women, and at least one man.
Vail told deputies that his wife was wearing an off-white leather jacket when she went into the water. But she wasn’t wearing the jacket when her body was recovered. Inside his boat, deputies found two life preservers. Mary had not been wearing one, despite her fear of drowning. As for the trotline the 2 were supposedly running, deputies found it still inside Vail’s tackle box.
Most witnesses the Deputies had spoken too felt that Vail was capable of killing his wife.
When asked if he believed Vail killed his wife, Abshire said “Oh, my God, yes.”
THE CHASE & THE FINAL CLUES:
Ever since Vail had sold his Mississippi property, Mary Rose had wondered if he would eventually sell the Tulsa property, the one she and Annette had lived in. He did. Vail sold it for $149,000. Rose asked the question on the mind of everyone investigating. “What is he going to do with all that money? --- He could be running.”
On April 30th Mitchell got a call saying that Vail had left Texas. He was pulled over by police in Columbus, Mississippi after hopping the fence of his now dead brother Ronnie’s property. Curtis told Mitchell that the Columbus police were sending him a photo of Vail and the white pick-up truck he was pulled over in. He once again warned Mitchell that Vail could be running.
Vail’s sister called again, saying she heard her brother was heading to Montpelier. She wondered if he was driving to the home of possible witness Wesley Turnage.
Mitchell called Turnage to let him know that Vail might be headed his way. Turnage replied “If he sets foot on my property, there won’t be no trial.” He called Mitchell back later, saying no one in Montpelier had seen Vail.
Private Investigator Gina Frenzel, who had questioned Vail herself, including pretending to be his girlfriend, called Mitchell with good news. Vail had contacted her and told her he was back in Canyon Lake. Mitchell informed Curtis.
On May 17th 2012, authorities arrested Felix Vail for the murder of his wife Mary Horton.
In telephone calls from the jail in Lake Charles, he shared his explanation of what happened the night of Oct. 28, 1962, when Mary died.
He referred to his first wife as a “coon-ass lady,” saying she was “half kneeling” on his feet when she “saw one of the float buckets that were on the line.” He said the boat was “going real slow along the edge of the bank when the boat hit a stump ... and it dumped her right out.” Vail said he shut off the motor and dove in “where she had plopped in the water. I mean, nothing. The river had sucked her right in.” He said he “dove around until I was exhausted, and came in immediately to the police station in town and reported the accident and that was it.”
This story differed greatly from his story in 1962 when he said his wife was sitting on top of a boat seat when she fell out, not that she was kneeling on his feet. Back then, he said nothing about hitting a stump — just swerving to miss it.
It also differed from the story he had told his son, where a wave from another boat had dumped Mary out.
Vail told Frenzel that the case “has been an avalanche coming down the mountain all that time, waiting to hit my head, and it finally has.”
He blamed the families and Mitchell, “an evil, shrimpy reporter,” for what had happened, calling the charges “fabricated” and insisting that “a large amount of money, hate and political ambitions are behind them.”
At Vail’s request, Frenzel returned his truck to his home and went inside to take care of a few tasks. While there, she spent 16 hours photographing all his journals, more than 2,400 pages. She also photographed letters, documents, photographs and business cards, some dating back to the 1960s. She found a collection of women’s jewelry, old buttons, pins, and even a glass dildo.
Disturbingly, if at this point unsurprisingly, she found a photograph of a naked 3-year-old girl. Frenzel later spoke with the girl, now a woman. The journals revealed that Vail had stalked her for years.
Frenzel discovered the birth certificate of Annette Craver, who had used it for previous trips to Mexico.
Mitchell and Frenzel poured through the journals she had photographed. They noticed gaps in them that lead them to believe Vail had ripped pages out, including times when he should have been with Sharon and Annette.
His journals were dominated by sex, dreams of sex and reflected an obsession with children. In a March 27, 1986, entry, Vail wrote about the visit of a woman and her daughters in his home. “The little girls were delicious --- We massaged some, hugged & kissed some & it was 12 (midnight) & time for them to go.”
On Aug. 29, 1992, Vail walked into the Wal-Mart in West Point, and as he wrote in his journal “a 1-year-old white girl looked in my eyes loving me like there was no age difference between us.”
When Mitchell interviewed Kert Germany, a co-worker of Vail in 1977 he said that Vail attracted women wherever he went, and that Vail had told him the best sex of his life had been with 2- or 3-year-old girl.
It was that this time that Alexandra Christianson, Vail’s ex-wife called Mitchell and told him her story. She also put him in contact with Bruce Biedebach, the man she had been on a date with when she left with Vail. Biedebach would tell Mitchell that during a party in 1965 that turned into a “boast-fest” Vail had boasted about something he had done, that no one else had done.
Killed his wife.
He told the men at the party that he had held his wife’s head underwater until she drowned.
Biedebach then put Mitchell in contact with Rob Fremont, who had bicycled around California with Vail when he was 13. He said that while riding with Vail, he had told him that he hit his wife on the head and drowned her. Fremont never rode with him again after that.
With as much evidence as they could possibly gather, the case went to trial.
THE TRIAL:
Vail’s trial began on August 8th, 2016.
District Attorney John DeRosier laid out the evidence clearly.
He spoke of the evidence against Vail about Mary’s murder on October 28th, 1962.
He spoke about Vail swearing to Sharon Hensley’s mother that she wanted to start a new life in 1974.
He spoke about his letters to Mary Rose, telling her he wouldn’t tell her where her daughter Annette was “even if he knew.” Vail smirked at that one.
Finally, he spoke to the jurors.
“Mary Horton Vail is gone, Sharon Hensley is gone,” DeRosier said, “and Annette Craver Vail is gone.”
“You’re going to write the last chapter, and it’s simply going to read, ‘And justice was finally done. William Felix Vail, guilty as charged.’”
Prosecutors called all three families to testify.
Will Horton told jurors of his sister, “Mary was the kind of person you would want as a friend.” He broke while talking about visiting his nephew after he death in 1962. “I just wanted Bill to know how much his mother loved him.”
Brian Hensley told jurors that he last saw his sister, Sharon, with Vail before the pair left Bismarck, North Dakota, in 1972. Other than a telephone call and letter in the months that followed, he said no one had seen or heard from her since.
When Mary Rose took the stand, Vail bowed his head.
This was the woman who had been working for 32 long years to bring him into this court.
This was the mother who had waited 32 years for this moment.
She called Annette “a huge light in my life. We were always loving toward each other.” She testified that Vail ran off with her daughter on his motorcycle and married her. She testified that Annette, who inherited nearly $100,000 and received two homes, disappeared weeks after deeding those homes to Vail.
Wesley Turnage, Rob Fremont, and Bruce Biedebach swore under oath that Vail said he killed his first wife. Biedebach said he asked Vail if Mary was a bitch, to which Vail had said yes. Vail laughed in court as he told the story.
The current coroner, forensic pathologist Dr. Terry Welke, testified that in most drownings, the body comes up in a “dead person’s float,” with the back of the head surfacing first and the limbs hanging down in the water.
After sharing a series of pictures to show it, he showed the court two black-and-white photographs of Mary Horton when her body was recovered on Oct. 30, 1962, less than two days after she reportedly drowned. Her body was stiff, with her hands over chest as if she was in a coffin.
They also saw the videotaped testimony of Isaac Abshire Jr, who had died in 2014. He said her body was stiff when it surfaced either sideways or face up when she bobbed up in the Calcasieu River.
That testimony helped contribute to Welke’s homicide conclusion. So did the unbroken grease-like stain across her Chi Omega sweatshirt, which he believed could have come from a tarp covering her. Welke concluded Mary was dead and stiff before her body went into the water, explaining why rigor had set in.
Testimony was heard of Vail not paying for his own wife’s funeral, despite having made thousands from her life insurance.
THE VERDICT
The jury didn’t even take a half hour to reach their verdict.
William Felix Vail Sr was unanimously found guilty of murdering Mary Horton. He was sentenced to life in prison.
After the verdict, the prosecutor also revealed that the FBI had found out that Vail had molested a child over 30 years ago. They were unable to put him on trial for it, as the statue of limitations had passed.
Finally, nearly 54 years after she was murdered, Mary Horton had found justice.
Finally, 42 years after her disappearance, Sharon Hensley had found justice.
And Annette Craver, with the help of her mother Mary Rose’s tireless efforts, had finally found justice after 32 years.
https://content.api.news/v3/images/bin/f75084c7dce4fb08e12e45ccba5e40a1
This a photo of Mary, Sharon and Annette. I felt it was fitting to end off with. May they all rest in peace.
MY SOURCES:
https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/8284?nav
https://charleyproject.org/case/annette-michelle-craver-vail
https://www.clarionledger.com/story/news/local/felixvailgone/2016/12/29/felix-vail-gone-one-wife-dead-two-other-missing-jerry-mitchell/95895894/
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/5796622/mary-elizabeth-vail
https://charleyproject.org/case/sharon-hensley
https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/20525?nav

Author's Note: This story is long. I'm sorry. It really deserves to be told exactly as it happened and therefore, I am forced into murdering brevity. I hope that in time you'll forgive me.
I'm going to tell y'all another stupid story. I should warn you that this one isn't really a comedy, despite being set in a RadioShack.
A few months after Cocaine-Kevin took off for Brazil in pursuit of true love, we got a new transfer employee. We came to call him 'Aikedo-Kevin' (I'm adding the -Kevin because this is a subreddit about Kevins.)
We called him 'Aikedo' because we met him before the final act of the following chain of events took place and afterwards we just didn't have the motivation to attach anything else to him.
When I replay what happened in my head, it astounds me that this took place at all. I mean, we had our fair share of Kevins at RadioShack. There was Cocaine-Kevin, (whom you've previously met.) Crazy-Kevin, 'TP' Kevin, Kevin the Customer, and Kevin the Destroyer. Every one of these people occupy space in my brain for various reasons, but out of all these Kevins, Aikedo-Kevin is the most memorable. And not for the reason you'd most expect.
As if he represented the cosmic opposite to the Kevin he was replacing, this new Kevin came across as competent. He was older and well-kept. He didn't smell at all like sun-dried squirrel and rather than being cartoonishly fat, he was worryingly thin. He looked surprisingly normal for a RadioShack employee; completely trustworthy, certainly like the guy you'd confidently go to to get your Questions Answered.
Looking at him, I would never have believed in a million years that he would be the most profligate serial liar that I've ever had the misfortune to meet.
I know that I should start this tale at the beginning; with the story of how he got his name, but I really don't have the space, so instead we'll just rollercoaster through this cascade of events much like I did originally.
Almost from the moment Kevin showed up, things got real weird, real fast. He lasted for about six months with us, but they were unforgettable. It started with Kevin telling us that he was a 'triple-stripe; dragon-class' black belt in aikedo. Then he told us that he met Kiss back in the 70's and they invited him back to their hotel to party. Then the lies got egregious. He was late because there was a riot at Publix. Someone else ate the food that I had clearly marked and labelled in the back fridge. His dad was in the CIA and helped plan Vietnam with Henry Kissinger. He didn't know why the drawer was short $5.34. He was allergic to fruit. The list was long and got progressively weirder as the weeks went by, but it was generally innocuous; innocent.
But then he fucked up. He told a lie about NASA. Guys, this was a RadioShack. We were all nerds of various stripes, with varying areas of scientific interest and knowledge. There was NO possibility in any universe that one could just traipse into my RadioShack and successfully lie about NASA. Especially this particular lie. There was even less of a possibility that upon hearing such a lie spoken, any of us RadioShack employees would let it go unchallenged.
Ok, now that all the foreshadowing is out of the way, let me get down to the meat. I mean, that's why you're still here, right?
This chain of events spanned three days and it began in the way these things always do; somewhat accidentally.
DAY 1: THE NASA PROVOCATION
It was a normal Florida afternoon for everyone who didn't work at my store. As usual, I came in on second (closing) shift. I was taking over from Kevin, who'd just returned from his vacation. The drawer was missing $5.34. Again? Wtf? He 'fixed' it while I was in the back re-counting it. Okay. $5.34? This is so weird. I have to report this shit.
While waiting for his wife to pick him up, Kevin told me that he and his family had had a blast in Cape Canaveral. That he was able to take his son into the 'anti-gravity chamber' at NASA. He went into great detail about how they 'flew around in the tunnel.'
Now, y'all... I'm not an idiot. I very well know how NASA trains their astronauts in Zero-G. Fuck it, I'll bite.
"Uh, Kevin, they use planes to simulate zero-gravity. What are you talking about?"
He shook his head conspiratorially and said, "No, they have secret pods. There's two. One in Huntsville, Alabama, and one at Cape Canaveral. It's top-secret. I have a friend."
I stood there transfixed as Kevin embellished his experiences at NASA a bit more, making sure I knew how cool it was that his kids got to meet all the astronauts and how big the pod really was (almost as big as the Pentagon) until his wife finally showed up and they left.
I think I took a minute before going back inside. I had to call Frank (our store manager) to report the drawer discrepancy. And if I'm being honest, I also wanted to inform him of NASA's Pentagon-sized secret. We were all getting sick of Kevin's fibs, but nobody had really said anything to him yet and I knew Frank was a huge NASA fan. Repeating to him what Kevin had said was tantamount to lighting off firecrackers at a funeral, and at that age, I just wanted to watch the world burn.
Frank answered on the first ring, as I knew he would if the store was calling him.
"Heeeyyyyy, Frank. So. My drawer was short $5.34 again. Kevin somehow fixed it. He also went to the, uh, secret anti-gravity pod at NASA while he was at Cape Canaveral."
Frank laughed. There was a long pause. Then he snarled.
"What? Your drawer was short?! I'm DONE with this!" Frank hung up. I looked down at the phone. Dang. Frank is a terrible force for truth in the universe. I knew this from painful personal experience.
DAY 2: KEVIN'S LAST LIE
I got a call at 5 am to come in early; that Kevin couldn't open. Whatever. More money for me. I rolled out of bed.
When I got there, Frank was behind the counter pacing and literally purple. I've never seen a human being that color before. He looked like an engorged eggplant preparing for a Kanly duel.
I was putting my stuff away in the back when Frank stomped in behind me. He was hollering about gravity and idiots and I realized immediately that Kevin was in major, major trouble.
A frission tickled its way through my central nervous system. Fear or anticipation? Uncertain. Frank could be terrifying. Alternately, Frank could be compassionate. Frank was a real street-dude; a living tragedy-to-triumph, rags-to-riches kind of guy. He was also a VERY understanding boss. He basically only had three rules: 'Don't fuckin' steal,' 'Don't bring your personal fuckery to the store,' and, most importantly, 'Don't EVER fuckin' LIE to me.'
Those are exact quotes and he lived up to them. I know this. And now you all know this too. Kevin should have known this, but Kevin lived life on the edge.
In the backroom, I squared my shoulders and pretended to be uninterested while watching Frank's face pulse with incandescent rage.
"What's up?" I ventured, trying to hide my curiosity.
Frank exploded like something you shouldn't microwave. His purple face rippled as he tried to roll his eyes and snort simultaneously. He looked for all the world like an indignant water buffalo. Which is funny really. See, big game hunters will tell you that despite looking slow and stupid, the water buffalo is one of the most dangerous animals on Earth. African buffalo will lay traps. They will actually double back to lie in wait to hunt their hunter. And, much like the animal he resembled, Frank too was dangerous and known for his traps.
He smiled at me ferally.
"Kevin called out this morning. Apparently his cousin the St. Petersburg cop got shot last night in a drug raid."
"What does that have to do with NASA?" I said stupidly.
Frank stared at me like I was the only Red Gal in the Blue Man Group.
"I busted Kevin last night for theft." Frank said slowly, with that owlish look he saved for especially thick customers.
Okaaaay "But, what does tha-" I stopped, the light bulb over my head starting to flicker.
"Oh." I said.
Frank was still staring at me, perhaps waiting for my brain to finish its loading sequence. Accurately concluding that I was operating somewhat below dial-up speed, he sighed impatiently and continued.
"My wife called the hospital just now. They don't have anyone by the name of (Kevin's cousin's name) on file there. She called two other hospitals just to be sure."
I just looked at him blankly. "Waaaait. what?!" My mental bulb finally snapped on and flared brightly. Oh shiiit. My brain is furiously connecting dots. Did he lie to get un-caught for thieving? Is that a even a thing? Wtf?
Frank nodded grimly and picked up the phone. He dialed Kevin's number.
Unfortunately for this story, I had a customer walk in right then and therefore didn't hear what was said. Customers can be the most annoying things in the world sometimes. This one probably wasn't, but I don't remember because all I could think about was Kevin's career suicide. It seemed like an eternity passed before I was able to rejoin Frank in his investigation.
In the time I was away, Frank had learned two things: the first thing being that no cops had been shot according to the news, (which Kevin countered by claiming that the news wouldn't report a cop being shot in an on-going investigation,) and the second thing being that no hospital in the tri-county area had admitted anyone matching his cousin's name, (which Kevin dismissed by saying that secrecy was standard operating procedure in a 'Full Blackout' situation and that it's all put in place to protect a wounded cop's identity.
It was a testament to Frank's determination that he was able to do all this so quickly. Especially since this all happened back in the 90's before the sum of human knowledge was only a smartphone click away.
This inanity went on for my entire shift. Frank sending his wife to check out hospitals while he alternately called the local newspapers, TV stations, and Kevin.
Frank was terrifying in his pursuit of truth and I have to admit, it was a thing of beauty to watch him put his case together. Perry Mason be damned; Frank was on an investigative roll. But no matter what he learned, when he called Kevin, Kevin had an answer to it. A detailed answer. He went into specifics about how the bullet (9mm) hit his cousin's vest and richocheted off of a rib. He explained how it was a 'cartel case,' and everything has to be kept hush-hush. It was quite entertaining, if schadenfreude is your thing. It's not mine. I can't really explain how uncomfortable the whole thing made me feel. Like chewing on cotton. There's no way Kevin keeps his job. Kevin has the survival skills of a suicide bomber and the critical thinking skills of a cabbage. It was plain as day that Kevin was a drowning man grasping desperately for an anchor.
Finally, my shift ended and I went home mentally exhausted on Kevin's behalf.
As I left, I could see Frank behind the counter, still on the phone, hyper-focused, and absolutely intent upon some mission objective that I apparently wasn't cleared for. He told me just to be ready to close the next day.
DAY 3: THE GREAT DENOUEMENT
I woke up haunted with the strange certain knowledge that disaster was nigh. Maybe it was the same instinct that allows animals to sense an earthquake before it strikes. I really don't know. I felt both uncomfortable and giddy as I readied myself for work.
When I pulled into the RadioShack, I saw that Frank's Jeep was there. So was Frank's wife's SUV. Kevin's car was nowhere to be seen.
Oh boy... this was not a good sign. I parked and went in. Immediately I could see Frank, his wife, and the employee who had opened huddled furtively together behind the counter. No customers in sight.
Excellent, I thought. Maybe I'll finally get some Answers. This IS a RadioShack, after all, right?
As I counted in my drawer, the preliminary results of Frank's investigation poured out: allegedly Kevin had been taking money from the drawer to get McDonalds for lunch. The amount ($5.34) matched perfectly with the meal Kevin was observed eating each day that he worked. No one knew why he did this. He very obviously brought his lunch in from home every morning.
Frank was a-twitter with anticipatory fury as he spoke. After the conversation he'd had with Frank the previous night, Kevin had slyly switched shifts with another employee to avoid having to open and therefore face Frank. Which, of course, had jacked Frank's temper over from red to plaid. Kevin daring to dodge him like this was simply the last straw, and he had decided he was going to fire Kevin. ...Except, despite trying all morning, he hadn't managed to actually reach Kevin to give him the news.
Frank being Frank, this had in no way deterred him. He had simply looked in Kevin's employee file and called the emergency contact. By the time I walked in, the proverbial shit had hit the fan and was well on its ballistic arc towards us in the form of Kevin's wife.
Yall. It's really important for this story that you have a mental picture of Kevin's wife. Essential, even.
Do y'all remember that 90's song 'All Star' by that band Smashmouth? Remember the lead singer? If you don't, it's okay. Just picture Guy Fieri instead. Now picture Guy Fieri/the Smashmouth dude dressed up as Xena: Warrior Princess. That's what she looked like. She was enormous. Not necessarily fat, but big. I bet she could crush a watermelon with her thighs, easy. (That's really a thing, by the way. You should probably Google it. Fuck it, here ya go )
Anyway, 'Xena' was surprised to hear that Kevin wasn't at work. She was even more stunned by what Frank had to say.
At roughly the same time this phone conversation was taking place at the RadioShack, another, weirder conversation was taking place in person across town. Out of exasperation, and to out-manuever Kevin completely, Frank had finally just sent his wife down to the police station...
...which went something like this: she walked in, and asked if any cops had been shot recently. I imagine there was a pregnant pause at the reception desk while it was hurriedly determined whether or not she was a threat or a crazy person. She asked again and was told that no, no one had been shot recently. She then asked to speak with Officer (Kevin's Cousin's Name) and lo and behold! he happened to be walking by at that exact moment, un-wounded, ambulatory, and utterly confused as to why anybody thought he'd been shot in the first place.
Perched behind the counter in the RadioShack, listening to Frank and his wife list the steps they had taken and the results of taking said steps, I actually felt kind of bad for Kevin. I mean, why would he do this?
Why would anyone make up such a ridiculous lie? What did he have to gain? And most mysteriously, why was he stealing to buy lunch when he brought his own lunch in? The whole thing was steeped in bizarre absurdity and I was beginning to lose perspective of the situation when the door-chime dinged and Kevin walked contritely into the store, followed by his strapping virago of a wife.
Y'all. Holy shit. I don't think that I will be able to properly describe what followed but I will do my best.
When I was a kid, there was a cartoon I saw once. Maybe it was part of a Disney movie, maybe a Bugs Bunny short, I don't really remember. But in it, a ginormous nanny-type woman drags a teensy man into a room by his ear to force him to apologize for something.
That's almost exactly what happened. Xena frog-marched Kevin into the RadioShack and made him apologize for stealing. She literally made him hand over an envelope with $600 in it. (The amount Frank calculated Kevin had stolen over six months.) And then she berated him for breaking the diet she had set for him.
I'm going to say that again. He broke the diet she had set for him. This ... veritable Amazon of a woman had set a caloric limit for this dude who was already so skinny that he could likely crawl through the holes in a chain-link fence. All of a sudden, it all made sense. All of it. Kevin was emasculated, hence the lies. Kevin was desperate and fucking starving, so he stole to feed himself. I was wrestling with my new-found understanding of all things Kevin when she told us the envelope was all of his 'allowance' money. At this point, I was entirely speechless. I could only gape witlessly at her.
Stealing a glance back at Frank, I could tell he was going through the very same emotional turmoil as I was.
In the uncomfortable silence, Kevin handed over his keys and mumbled something about it being great working with us and then they left.
With the possible exception of the first time I saw the cemetary scene in Steel Magnolias, I have never gone from one emotional extreme to the other so quickly. Where I had been affronted by his actions only minutes earlier, now I felt unimaginable regret and I could tell Frank felt the same way. Frank had held back from revealing that he'd had his wife visit the police station and he never even brought it up. He looked deflated; all the energy and momentum of the chase gone, replaced by utter shock and remorse.
Y'all, I bet you thought this story was going to have a happy ending. Or at least a funny one. I'm sorry to disappoint you. No happy ending here, just a cloudy moral lesson.
Kevin was fired and we never saw him again, though I insisted that Frank's wife go back down to the police station and tell Kevin's cousin everything we'd seen and heard. I felt that I owed him that much, being responsible for the initial phone call that had set everything in motion.
Yes, Frank and I learned much and more that day. That experience changed something in me. I'd like to think I'm a better person now.
Oh, I still laugh at Kevins, but I don't assume anything anymore. Oh, no. I've learned that everyone has a truth to tell, even if it comes swaddled in lies.

A thread for new collectors to ask basic questions of the community.
Frequently Asked Questions below!
A longer version of the subreddit rules is here.
For questions specifically concerning bootlegs or vendor legitimacy, please ask in the Bootleg Megathread.
NSFW & Spoiler Guidelines

• For Self Posts: include a bolded NSFW note next to links in that post.
• For Links to sites/images: If the figure is NSFW, or the website has any NSFW content (including ads) be sure to tag your post NSFW and use the appropriate link flair.

Bootlegs
Any collection posts containing bootlegs, comments advocating buying bootlegs, or links to sites selling bootlegs, recasts, or unlicensed merchandise will be removed.
People often ask about the legitimacy and/or safety of a number of websites which sell large resin statues. The more commonly-asked of those deal primarily in resins from studios which do not have a license from the Japanese IP holders to produce merchandise. Therefore links to those sites are not permitted here. Another sign is if MyFigureCollection doesn't list the either the statue, its manufacturer, or the shop it's being sold on.
MyFigureCollection
My Figure Collection is like MyAnimeList... but for figures! Their database includes thousands of items which been produced during the last couple of decades, along with reviews of shops and other helpful articles. One can also list their own collection and post gallery photos.
Shops

Retailers:
AmiAmi HobbySearch Mandarake (sells rare figures) Good Smile Company Online Shop (often has exclusives) Good Smile Company US shop Crunchyroll Shop Hobby Link Japan (aka HLJ) Solaris Japan (MFC partner) BigBadToyStore (MFC partner, US retailer) Big in Japan (also has proxy service) Tokyo Otaku Mode Right Stuf FigureHaven Archonia (EU) Yorokonde (EU) Figuya (EU) Dekai Anime (UK) Gamersheek (UK) Jungle
List of retailers on MFC
/AnimeFigures' List of Retailers
Community Guide to Shopping in Japan

Blogs/News:

Nekomagic (News/Previews) NyaaFigurines (Reviews/Releases) Kahotan's Blog (News/Reviews) Figma Blog (JP)

Buying & Shipping

1. What’s the best place to buy my anime figures from?
That’s going to depend a lot on what works for you, but most people around here buy them from Amiami, Big in Japan, Hobby Search, HobbyLink Japan, or Tokyo Otaku Mode. If none of those work for you for whatever reason, there’s a list of reputable retailers in the sidebar that you can check out at any time. Be extra careful when ordering figures from websites like Amazon or ebay, as there are a lot of bootlegs on those sites. Don’t be afraid to ask in our Bootleg Megathread if you’re unsure.
2. What differences are there between the shipping options I get from most Japanese shops?
Below is a rundown of the main shipping choices you’ll get at most retailers. Keep in mind that if an order is large enough you will be forced to use one of the more expensive options, as SAL shipments have lower size and weight restrictions.

• Unregistered SAL: Sometimes referred to as uSAL, is usually the cheapest method. It does not come with any tracking or insurance. Usually takes up 2-4 weeks for delivery.
• Registered SAL: Sometimes referred to as rSAL, is insured for the declared value up to 6,000 yen. It comes with a tracking number and usually takes 2-4 weeks for delivery.
• EMS: This method of shipping is much faster than either SAL options, usually arriving within a week of shipment. EMS shipments are insured for the declared value up to 2,000,000 yen.
• Airmail
• E-packet
• Surface: Shops don't offer this very often. It's an actual cargo ship and slow as a result.
  
• DHL: Becoming more available as an alternative to EMS on AmiAmi and other sites. Can be less expensive than EMS and of comparable speed, but may be more reliant on the specific geographical area being shipped to. The price is also determined by the size of the box. Offers their own tracking.
  

3. I placed two+ orders for figures at different times. Will my items be shipped together, or will I have to pay shipping twice?
Most shops will ask you to pay shipping on a per-order basis, but here are some that will allow combined shipping:

• Amiami: You can combine orders here, as long as the orders ship in the same month. It doesn’t matter if the item is new or preowned. Any preorders that are set for that month can also be combined with other orders for that month. However, be aware that if the preorder gets delayed, Amiami will remove that item from that month’s shipment and place it on a new order. To combine orders on Amiami, use the “Combine Orders” feature under “My Account”.
  
• Hobby Search: Hobby Search will let you combine orders that release in the same month, but you cannot combine in stock items with preorders. If you want to combine multiple preorders, or multiple in stock items, you can do so using the “Order Recombination” feature on your account page.
  
• HobbyLink Japan: At HLJ, you have the option to send paid orders to their “Private Warehouse”, where you can store them for up to 2 months. When you’re ready to ship the items, you simply select which items to ship and HLJ will combine them into one shipment for you. To use this, just select the “Private Warehouse” option as shipping when you order.
  

If you’re unsure about whether or not a shop we haven’t listed will combine your orders, please refer to their individual FAQs.
4. When will I get charged for my preorder?
Most Japanese shops charge you once the item is in stock and ready for shipment. When that happens, they will send you an email asking for payment. Some shops (mostly overseas ones), will allow you to pay for the item up front though, if you’d like. A few with that option are:

• Big in Japan (Japanese store)
• Tokyo Otaku Mode
• Anime Island
• Crunchyroll

Keep in mind that overseas stores will likely get the figure a few months after Japanese ones, so pay attention to the release date stated on the website you are buying from so as to avoid that confusion.
5. Should I expect to pay customs fees when importing figures?
That depends on where you live. Here’s a quick rundown:

• Australia: 10% GST is now assessed up front.
• Canada: Minimum declared value for charges is around CAD$20 for regular shipments, and CAD$60 for gifts (gifting something only seems to lower the declared value by about CAD$40, not deplete it completely). When using Amiami, try their Small Air Packet option. It comes with tracking, gets there in about the same time as EMS, and is better at avoiding customs.
• European Union: As of 1st July 2021, VAT has to be paid on all goods imported from outside of the EU. Retailers are supposed charge VAT for purchases under €150, however many Japanese retailers currently do not, so VAT will be charged when your order arrives in the EU. Orders that are >€150, VAT and duty will be charged by your local customs.
• UK: As of 1st January 2021, VAT is to be charged by retailers for orders <£135. However, customs isn't currently charging VAT on parcels valued at <£135, even if the VAT hasn't been paid. Goods >£135 will have their VAT and duty calculated and charged by customs.
• Mexico: Minimum declared value for customs fees is USD$300 for shipments by post, and USD$50 for shipments by courier.
• United States: A shipment has to have a declared value of USD$2,000 before customs starts hitting you with fees, so you most likely won’t have to worry about them at all.

6. The figure I want is an exclusive, how do I go about ordering one outside of Japan?
You have three options for this:
A. Big in Japan is known to stock exclusive figures and ship to other countries. Usually the price is higher because they build in their proxy fees, but it’s easier than worrying about using a forwarder or proxy service. If you live in the US, Crunchyroll, Right Stuf, and Tokyo Otaku Mode also get exclusives sometimes, but out of the states the shipping can get expensive.
B. Forwarding Services: A forwarder is someone who you ship an exclusive item to so that they can forward the package on to you, usually for a flat fee + shipping. When using a forwarder you still make the purchase yourself, and enter their address into the shipping field. When the box arrives at the forwarder they will then stick your address onto the package and send it on its way.
Some popular forwarders are:

• Big in Japan
• Tenso

Be sure to read each sites instructions on forwarding carefully!
C. Proxy Services: With a proxy, you tell them what the item you’re looking for is and they will purchase it in your stead. This is handy for when a company doesn’t accept foreign credit cards, or you’re having trouble navigating a Japanese website.
Some popular proxies are:

• Big in Japan (Won’t proxy for Yahoo Auctions)
• From Japan

Again, be sure you thoroughly read through each sites proxy instructions.
7. I see a bunch of really cheap figures that ship from China on ebay. Are those okay to buy?
Generally, no. They’re most likely bootlegs. If you want a second opinion on that, feel free to ask in the Bootleg Megathread that’s always stickied at the top of the sub.
8. What’s a bootleg, and how can I avoid buying them?
A bootleg is a counterfeit figure often made using rejected molds of the official product. They are usually priced significantly lower than the genuine article, and in order to make their profit, bootleggers use lower quality materials and have less attention to detail- resulting in a substandard figure.
The Bootleg Megathread that I mentioned in question 7 is a great tool to avoid buying any bootlegs. It has a few tips and tricks to avoiding them to begin with, and a few more on how to spot them if you’re worried you might already own one.
9. Does anyone know when figure X is going to be released? How do I know if it was delayed?
My Figure Collection (sometimes referred to as MFC) does an excellent job of staying on top of information like release dates and delays. If you’re curious about an upcoming figures release date, check there first. This information can be found directly under the “Releases” section on a figure’s entry. If you only see a month and a year in that section, it means the release date has not yet been announced by the manufacturer, and there is still a chance the figure could be delayed.
If you make an account on MFC you can also subscribe to comments, changes, and pictures via a checkbox on the right hand side of a figure’s listing. Subscribing to any of these things will allow MFC to send you an email anytime the subscription in question updates. Subscribing to “changes” is a great way to keep up with release dates and delays, among other things.
10. The figure I want is long sold out at normal retailers! What’s the best place to pick it up in the aftermarket?
A list of reputable retailers can be found under the “Shops” section of the /AnimeFigures sidebar. They all sell legitimate products, and many of them also sell figures second hand. However, the most frequently suggested second hand sites are Mandarake and Amiami- who has a preowned section that they update every night save Sundays and Japanese holidays around 1PM JST and again around 6PM JST.
AmiAmi grades their pre-owned items on a letter scale. The general consensus from buyers is that their ratings are conservative, so unless the item and/or packaging is specifically indicated as having significant flaws, pre-owned items from them are usually in at least as good a condition as their rating suggests.
Note: When you search Mandarake, you’ll get the best results by using the Japanese characters for whatever you are searching. If you don’t know them, you can find them on MFC by clicking on any of the “details” in that figure’s listing.
11. Amiami has a figure I’m interested in labeled as “For sale in Japan only”. Does this mean I can’t order it without a proxy or forwarder?
No, you can still order it. Amiami’s English site has that warning on many items, and it’s mostly meant to inform you that this product was made for a Japanese market, and as such, will have Japanese speaking/writing in it- so don’t expect any instructions to be in English. If Amiami doesn’t want foreigners buying a certain product, they won’t even list it on their English site.

Displaying Your Figures

12. What display cases do you recommend?
If you live near an Ikea try out one of these:

• Detolf *
• Klingsbo
• Billy (Often used with Morliden doors and glass shelves.)

*If you decided on a Detolf, you might find that there is a lot of wasted space. Here are a few tutorials on raising the shelves or and adding extra ones in.

• Using metal clips
• Using acrylic supports and PVC pipe

If you don’t live near an Ikea, Amazon has a few display options, though they are more expensive. Also keep an eye on your local Craigslist (or your country’s equivalent) and stores near you that are closing up.
13. What lighting do you guys recommend?
Ikea’s Dioder LED strips were discontinued after a long run. A current version is the Vattensten, if you're inclined to buy your case and lights at the same time.
LED strips have become very commonly available in recent years; most hardware and home furnishing stores carry a selection now. Just make sure that the lights don’t get too hot!
14. What are those clear plastic boxes that I see under everyone’s figures in their collection posts, and where can I get them?
Those are called risers. Most of us use standard acrylic risers like these. Some other, easy to find things that have been suggested are:

• Plastic picture cubes
• Card Deck Boxes
• If you’re feeling adventurous, try making your own!

Check your local hobby store for the first 2 options, or your local hardware store if you want to make your own.
Another common suggestion is to visit The Container Store if you have one near you. They have a lot of things to choose from that can suit a variety of needs. Be sure to check out their standard acrylic risers, their Amac boxes, and the various display cases they sell (baseball cases, mini car cases. hockey puck cases, etc).
15. Should I keep my figures sealed?
That is, of course, up to you really, but here are a few things to keep in mind when debating this question:

• Keeping it sealed can actually damage your figure. PVC figures usually have something called plasticizer in them, and that plasticizer needs to be able to breath. If a PVC figure isn’t exposed to oxygen, after a period of time the plasticizer starts to break down and form a sticky substance on the surface of the figure. Simply opening your figures and taking them out of the box prevents this from happening. If you happen to find plasticizer goo on one of your figures, Kahotan has a handy guide for dealing with it.
• Unlike some other figure markets, keeping an anime figure sealed won’t raise its value by a whole lot. In fact, because of the plasticizer problem mentioned above, your figure could actually be in better condition if you open it versus keeping it sealed.

Finding the Right Figure(s) for You

16. What are "scales" and "prizes"? What is the difference between them?
Those are classifications for figures based on a few factors.

• "Prizes" are generally more simply produced figures which are intended to be given as prizes for playing arcade games. They are inexpensive and lack the detail of scale figures, though some prize figure lines have standouts which may approach lower-end scales in quality. That is uncommon and often depends on the individual figure.
• "Scales" are called such because they are nominally designed to be proportional to the dimensions of the character which they are based on. They are generally of much better manufacture and materials than prize figures, allowing for more detail in painting, accessories, or complex poses.
• "Trading" figures appear in gashapon machines or as blind boxes on shop counters, often as sets which include multiple characters. As suggested by the class name, the randomness encourages trading. They are usually very inexpensively-produced, though as with prizes, some series are better than others.
• "Non-scale" encompasses a variety of other categories. It is often used to describe poseable figure lines such as figma and Nendoroids.

In recent years producers such as Good Smile Company attempted to further bridge the gap between prize quality and scales by introducing figure lines which are intended to be moderately-priced while retaining a higher level of detail than the typical prize figure, to varying levels of success.
17. There are so many figure companies! Who makes good figures?!
Obviously this is a very subjective question, but as a general starting point, here are a few well renowned figure companies:

• Alter
• Max Factory
• Good Smile Company
• Kotobukiya (usually hit or miss for people. Use your best judgement based off of the prototype)
• Flare
• Stronger

18. I really love “series X / character X”- how can I check if any figures were ever made for it?
My Figure Collection can be your best friend here. Simply do a search on the name of the series or character using the search bar located at the top right of the screen, and all associated figures pop up!
Alternatively, if you’re looking at a figure’s MFC entry, most of the text under the “Details” section can be clicked on and used to run a search.
19. How can I commission a custom figure?
None of the major figure companies (Alter, Kotobukiya, Good Smile Company, etc.) will take a commission for a single figure. This thread has a few websites in it that you can check out, or you can look into garage kits. Some kit painters would be willing to resculpt, frankenstein together, or otherwise modify kits for the right price.
If you're looking for help completing a garage kit, /brushforhire may be useful.

Keeping Up with New Announcements

20. How can I keep up with figure news (announcements, updates, etc.)?
Most people use a MFC combined with any or all of the following news sites:

• Neko Magic
• Alter’s Blog (In Japanese)
• Kahotan’s Blog (Only GSC and their sister companies)

Many figure companies are active on Twitter, so following them there is recommended for quicker news.
To use MFC for this I’ll quote question #9.

If you make an account on MFC you can also subscribe to comments, changes, and pictures via a checkbox on the right hand side of a figure’s listing. Subscribing to any of these things will allow MFC to send you an email anytime the subscription in question updates. Subscribing to “changes” is a great way to keep up with release dates and delays, among other things.

Most companies have one or more Twitter accounts. Some examples: Good Smile Company sales, Good Smile's USA branch, Max Factory, AmiAmi Hobby News.
21. Everyone’s excited about something called Wonfes….. what the heck is that?!
WonFes (short for Wonder Festival) is a biannual figure expo where many figure producers (both large and small) show off new sculpts and updates to figures already under way. Most companies save their most exciting announcements for WonFes, so we all look forward to the expo whenever it rolls around! Winter Wonder Festival is usually held in February, while Summer Wonder Festival is usually in July. The event has also spread to Shanghai, in the late spring.
22. One or two (or 15) figures were announced at WonFes that I’m really excited about! How can I keep track of their progress once the event is over?
MFC is always really quick about getting new WonFes announcements (or any others throughout the year, for that matter) listed in their database, so we suggest using that. To find a figure from the event you can search any number of things, including the name of the character or the name of the show. You can also use the tag search to search “WonderFestival 20xx_[season]” to see all items announced at that event.