Spirited away english cast

Today I was an inch away from bursting in the middle of class. There's a person in the class who thinks she has the right to meddle in my affairs. When I'm talking to the teacher, this person interrupts and starts meddling in the discussion. She doesn't have anything to do with it. Besides, everyone who knows me knows that I have sensory sensitivity and she talks loudly (but that's bearable, it's a person's characteristic). The problem is that she insists on opening the curtain when the darn light of the room is already on.
But she's not the only person conspiring against me. At my school, we need to do scientific initiation (with a report and field notebook). With the exception of about 3 or 4 paragraphs, I did the entire work—introduction, results, theoretical framework, all the heavy part of the research, formatting, reading articles in English (not my native language), putting in the references—all me. However, it is the field notebook that will "prove" that everyone participated in the development. But the darn thing is that the other 2 people in my group just keep DELETING WHAT I WRITE! They are deleting my signature!! That is... I practically carried the work on my shoulders, but in the field notebook, it says that I didn't do anything.
Ah, and the student union... unlike the person I mentioned in the first paragraph, I don't usually get involved in subjects that I don't think are of interest to me, but I'm not going to stop listening and feeling a little afraid. We organize the June's party, and the guys just want to sell gifts related to soccer teams. Any person with common sense knows that soccer is a bad example for children. It's all about drinking, fighting, disgusting behavior, and racism. It's the same thing as selling liquor gifts to children. But also, from this current generation of parents, I don't expect any kind of good example.
The worst thing was that once I actually exploded, and the [expletive] of the principal said that it was because I am a "teenager woman" and that this type of feeling is hormonal. Which is just a ridiculous attempt to want to nullify my pain.
The lack of identification that I have with this environment has always been great, but today, almost as an adult, I realize that my place is far from this city, far from these people. This suffocating environment only increases my desire to break free, to fulfill my dream of living in another country (a very dark one like Norway so no [expletive] thinks the curtains are going to open) and be either self-employed or work from a home office so I don't see the face of any more jerks.

I(35m) recently became a Greek Citizen this year. While I deal with the military papers and I work as a Plumber in Canada, I'm just filled with constant innue and dread of how boring it is where I live. Alot of my relatives moved to Canada and they love their lives here (because of the money they make and lifestyle they can make) but they are all married have kids and their life is where they want to be.
I really want to leave Canada.
Me on the other hand I have spent the last 5 years travelling to different countries, I speak intermediate Japanese and I'm always seeking the next adventure to travel on.
My purpose would to keep practising Greek (I am fluent but my vocab is quite weak, and i could use practice with reading and writing, to advance my photograhy (I also work as a professional photographer) and to potentially find a Greek partner. While I have lots of family in Patras I would most likely move to Athens in a roommate situation and try and find some type of parttime work. It doesn't have to pay alot but to keep me a little busy and give me opportunities to practice greek in the workplace. It also gives me the opportunity to learn a new skill (would be nice to learn how to bake better, or cook better, or maybe my dream job of being a cheese maker)
I have lots of savings, but I would definetly be walking away from a 90,000 euro a year job. From what I understand I could probably find a room to rent for 500-700 euros a month in Athens, and maybe put aside another 600 euros for expenses.
Sorry for the English, if I wrote it out in Greek I would spend the next hour typing this out.

In the quiet town of Greenwood, nestled amidst the shadows of ancient trees, a notorious jewel thief known as Vincent Delacroix prowled the night. His reputation preceded him, whispered in hushed tones by both law enforcement and fellow criminals alike. Vincent's expertise lay in his meticulous planning and flawless execution, but this time, fate had something sinister in store for him.
Vincent had set his sights on the prestigious Greenwood Museum, an architectural marvel housing an array of priceless artifacts. Rumors of a cursed object, said to bring misery and doom to its possessors, had caught Vincent's attention. He scoffed at such tales, dismissing them as mere superstitions meant to deter thieves like him. Little did he know the horrors that awaited him.
On a moonless night, Vincent infiltrated the museum, his nimble fingers dancing across the laser security system. He slipped through the shadows, evading detection as he made his way to the display case that housed the infamous cursed object. With a skilled touch, he plucked it from its velvet pedestal, a gleaming jewel that radiated a malevolent energy.
Unbeknownst to Vincent, the cursed object held a sinister secret. As he pocketed it, the ancient curse took hold, an invisible grip tightening around his soul. The cursed jewel accelerated the aging process, inflicting upon its holder the ravages of time twentyfold. Vincent's once youthful features began to wither, his hair turning gray and his skin creasing with wrinkles.
But the physical toll was only the beginning. As Vincent clutched the cursed object, it whispered to his mind, weaving disturbing visions that tore at his sanity. Haunting nightmares plagued his sleep, blending with his waking hours until he could no longer distinguish reality from the nightmares that consumed him.
Desperate to rid himself of the curse, Vincent passed the cursed jewel onto an unsuspecting acquaintance, thinking it would free him from his torment. But the curse had a cruel sense of irony. Each time Vincent relinquished the object, it left a trail of devastation in its wake. The lives of those who possessed it were shattered, their minds consumed by the same chilling madness that had plagued Vincent.
No matter how far Vincent ran or how cleverly he concealed the cursed jewel, it always found its way back to him, mocking his attempts to escape. The curse grew stronger with each passing day, consuming his sanity bit by bit, until he was but a hollow shell of his former self.
Soon enough, madness claimed Vincent Delacroix, his mind succumbing to the malevolent whispers and harrowing visions. He was found dead, a grotesque visage frozen in perpetual terror. The cursed jewel, stained with the blood of its victims, disappeared into the shadows once more, its dark power destined to ensnare another unfortunate soul.
Greenwood became a town haunted by the memory of Vincent Delacroix, forever marked by the cursed jewel and the madness it wrought. Whispers of the thief's tragic fate echoed through the streets, a cautionary tale of the insidious darkness that lurks within even the most hardened criminals.
The curse of the jewel continued its macabre dance, forever seeking new victims, forever ensnaring those foolish enough to cross its path. It is said that to this day, the cursed object lies in wait, biding its time, ready to unleash its terrible power upon those who dare to possess it.
In the aftermath of Vincent Delacroix's demise, the cursed object embarked on a twisted journey, leaving a trail of shattered lives and fractured souls in its wake. Its next unwitting victim was Olivia Morgan, a young artist seeking inspiration for her paintings.
Olivia had recently stumbled upon the cursed jewel at a local flea market, drawn to its mystical allure. Little did she know the darkness that lay hidden within its depths. As she held the jewel in her trembling hands, time warped around her, aging her youthful beauty in a matter of seconds. Horrifying visions plagued her mind, seeping into her art and infecting her every brushstroke with macabre imagery.
Driven to the brink of madness, Olivia unknowingly passed the cursed object to her childhood friend, Michael Collins. Michael, a talented musician on the cusp of stardom, saw the jewel as a potential good luck charm for his upcoming concert. However, the curse's grip tightened around him, causing his fingers to wither and his once melodious voice to crack with age.
With the curse consuming his every thought, Michael, in a desperate attempt to break free, passed the object to his beloved girlfriend, Sarah. Their dreams of a bright future together were swiftly shattered as the curse cast its shadow upon Sarah's life. Her once vibrant spirit drained away, replaced by haunting visions and a rapid deterioration of her physical and mental well-being.
The cursed jewel continued to change hands, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. It found its way to Mark Thompson, an ambitious businessman seeking a shortcut to success. The curse twisted his ambitions into obsession, driving him to the brink of madness as his empire crumbled around him.
With each new victim, the curse grew stronger, fueled by the despair and suffering it brought. It found its way into the lives of an aspiring actress, a renowned scientist, and even a small-town mayor. The cursed object manipulated their desires, crushing their dreams and leaving them broken in its wake.
No matter how far the cursed object traveled, it always found its way back to Greenwood, where the cycle of destruction began anew. The town became a haunting reflection of its cursed history, forever marred by the echoes of shattered lives and the chilling whispers of the tormented souls consumed by the jewel's malevolence.
As the years passed, legends and cautionary tales grew around the cursed object, the mere mention of its name sending shivers down the spines of Greenwood's residents. Some believed it to be a divine punishment, a malevolent force exacting its revenge on those who dared to disturb its slumber.
And so, the cursed object continued its dark dance through the annals of time, forever seeking new vessels to torment. Its legacy became intertwined with the town's history, a somber reminder of the unfathomable depths of evil that reside within seemingly innocuous objects.
To this day, the cursed object remains a mystery, its whereabouts unknown. Some say it still lurks within the shadows of the Greenwood Museum, waiting for an unsuspecting soul to stumble upon its malefic power and once again set it free. Others believe it has been lost to time, carried away by the winds of fate to a new chapter of horror and despair.
Whatever the truth may be, the cursed object serves as a chilling reminder that some secrets are better left undisturbed, and the price of forbidden knowledge may be one's very sanity and soul.

The entire plot of the killers in Scream 6 was to frame Sam for the killings of 5.
(un)Fortunately, the plan fails, and Sam remains exonerated.
However...
​
Sam should have been successfully framed at the end of Scream 6.
The killers' plan should have worked. Here's why...
​
- You can still kill off the Ghostfaces at the end of 6 and have police still arrest her to sort everything out. This doesn't require the killers to "win" by living... they're still dead.
- There's never been a Scream film that ends on a cliffhanger. It would actually cover new ground in terms of horror franchise tropes.
- A "bad end" is more in step with modern horror movies, anyway, and could be even more commentary. Mindy saying, "Oh, shit... it's a downer ending..." right before credits roll.
- You want odd Star Wars references in your Scream movie? Here's your Empire Strikes Back moment.
- Scream 7 would then take place around the trial of Sam Carpenter.
- It's a media circus that dwarfs ALL past movie scenes. Tons of reporters, hundreds of protestors, massive scale spectacle. Police vans FULL of idiot "Ghostfaces" who came to cause trouble are carting them away constantly.
- Every surviving cast member comes back, but they actually have a good reason this time. They're witnesses. They have to be here by law, and have no choice. Recorded depositions aren't being considered because of the Ghostface killings having a long-standing connection to edited video, faked evidence, "victims" turning out to be the murderer, etc.
- The opening kill seems like it's Tara Carpenter, being escorted by two officers, but through film-making trickery, it's revealed to actually be a body double that's murdered - the case is so high-profile, they had three "Taras" going to court to confuse any would-be killer... and Ghostface got one of them, remarking "Looks like I got the stand-in" before killing her. (Bonus points if she's played by Jenna's actual stand-in.)
- Kills taking place around court, city hall, the police station, and even prison would be amazing, especially when it comes time to reveal how the killer(s) pulled it off.
- We'd get all-new types of characters. For example - The prosecutor REALLY needs Sam to be found guilty because they botched their last case and need the win to avoid going down in disgrace. Maybe they're killing Sam's witnesses to secure the victory? That, or maybe it's the weirdo who came to the trial from across the country and keeps asking for Sam's autograph - which she won't give him?
- This would also bring back echos of Mickey's plan in Scream 2. Media circus trial, becoming the center of the nation's attention - but in this case, the defendant DOESN'T want it.
- Since it's almost a requirement to tie back to old films, there's evidence NOBODY has seen yet, and it's coming to light now that this trial is taking place. It's been locked away, kept secret, for fear of the ramifications if this evidence ever came to light publicly... Billy and Stu's tapes, showing them picking out which mask to use at a Halloween store... running through trials of how they would carry out specific complex killings from Scream 1, etc. It's all shakey-cam, old VHS quality, mostly featuring Billy with Stu as the camera man - so all you'd need is Lillard's voice-overs and an occasional moment when Billy's face is on the constantly moving camera view. It's being brought out and used now so the prosecution can draw a better connection between Sam and Billy's "methods".
​
Anyway, I'm sure you get enough of an idea, now, so I'll stop.
​
I really think it was a missed opportunity, and they should've "let the bad guys win", posthumously, at the end of Scream 6... it would've been so much more interesting than a clean wrap-up, IMHO.
​

First time posting. English isn't my first language. This story is extremely long, I had to cut some stuff
Context: I (22m trans) live with my parents while I finish college, that's the rule where I live. Last year, my grandma (mum's side) and my aunt came to live with us, my aunt needed help caring for my 90 y/o grandma,who died this year after almost a year of not being able to walk/talk due to illness. Throughout process (of my grandma slowly dying) my mum became very stressed. She gets angry easily, yells a lot. But she loves me a lot, always does things to help me. We had money problems due to bad investments since I was 13.I tried to help my parents with everything I could. I have a older sister who left home when I was 15, ever since then I've been my mum's "therapist" whenever she needed to vent. I started my social transition last year, that was also very hard for my mum. On top of that, our 12 y/o dog died, my mum really loved her. I have been with my boyfriend (24NB) for a year. he's been my rock. He always wanted dogs, I always had dogs, we wanted to adopt shelter dogs. this year we got 2 dogs, one is 9 y/o, the other is 5 and kinda difficult to handle.
The issue: I have been criticizing my mum a lot more in the last year. At first it was mostly about my transition. I wanted her to respect my new name and pronouns. I'm very patient when explaining queer topics and I'm even excited about teaching people about it. But I always correct people when they use the wrong name/pronouns. My mum hates this since the beginning, especially when I do it when she's angry. Now, my boyfriend is on the autism spectrum and has anxiety. He takes meds. But in his house no one yells when they're angry. So when my mum screams at our dogs (which are also my boyfriend's dogs) or at me, he sometimes breaks down and gets really sad. He tells me that it isn't normal to yell mean stuff like my mum does, she's manipulative even if she doesn't do it on purpose. My mum doesn't like when i go to my BF house. She's jealous of my MIL. She's also overly protective of me. She doesn't like me driving at night or going out. Ever since my transition I've had to fight with her a lot more to be able to do the things i wanted. She sometimes acts like I'm a kid, likes to tell me what to eat/wear etc. She likes to know where I am/what I'm doing at all times. I have to think twice before doing anything cause asking/telling her I'm going out means starting a fight. Lately I've been asking her not to yell. we have been fighting over small things. I've asked my mum to see a therapist multiple times, but she refuses. I don't remember it being so bad when I was younger. I'm not doing what she wants. I still help around the house, take care of the dogs and help her whenever I can. But nothing seems to make us fight less. She says she can't take us fighting anymore. She says I'm being unfair to her. When we fight she cries sometimes and then I hug her. She's been through a lot and she loves me a lot. Here's some examples of things she says that might be mean/manipulative: -everytime I criticize her, she goes "I'm the problem." "You'd be better if I went away." "If you dislike me so much go live with your MIL" "What did i go wrong (while crying)" "I didn't do anything. Now all you do is say I'm crazy. I'm the worst mother in the world according to you." "I should leave/ if I did therapy I'd leave this house" I feel bad for fighting with her when she has so much on her plate. I feel like I'm really being unfair for calling her out so often. My BF says she's kinda abusive, but idk. I don't know what to do, I'm just tired of fighting all the time.

Ok, guys. Frist of all i just want to warn you that English is not my frist language. So please bear with me here and I apologize in advance.
So a few months ago my sister(20) and i(22) had to move out of our appartment because of mould. We searched for a while but it wasn’t easy since my sister is a hairdresser apprentice and doesn’t earn much. And it didn’t help that we had a cat and a dog. After a while our mother suggested that we should Ask my sisters friend (girl 19) if she wanted to move in with us. We knew that she wanted to move closer to the city and had already on multiple ocasions askes if she could move in with us in our ONE BEDROOM appartment. I can’t say that we wanted to but my sister and i agreed that it would be cheeper if we were three and could maybe be even closer to the city. After a while i found the perfect place with cheep rent and a beautiful location.
BUT now me and my sister are really starting to regret moving in with her friend. In 3 months she has crashed her car 3 times (that we know of). First at the property of our aunts neighbour. Thankfully her car was the only thing damage. The secound time she crashed into the house we are renting! And the worst part is that she didn’t even say anything. Our family noticed the damage on the house when they visited and startet to comment it. And now i can’t belive i missed it. When i was made aware of this i said she had to talk to the landlored right away and find a solution because i didn’t want me and my sister to be made responsible for her damage!
The last time she backed her car into my sisters parked car before she left for work. She did tell her about the damage and offered to pay her, but our family said she should have the damage checked out and save the insurance money for a new car, sience her car is not really that new or worth it.
Some may think that this isn’t that bad, if so keep reading.
After 2 weeks she broke our brand new dryer which me and my sister got as a gift to our first appartment. Then the broke our drying rack and refused to ship in for a new one sience the old one was still «standing». And things keep breaking in her surroundings….
And otherwise she almost never contributes at home unless you give her an easy task. If she dries her clothes in the livingroom it can stay there until we take it to her room or we ask her to take it. And i also want to mention that this often can be after me or my sister has kindly washed some of her clothes with ours. One time i even put some dishes after her dinner party in the machine before i left for a trip and when i got back i had the pleasure of experience mould in the dishwasher for the first time! The only thing she had to do was to put in the rest throw in some soap and press start!
I come from a big family and am used to living close to many different people, but now I notice that patience has started to become a distant concept for me..

Winter 4986, 22 Aoimoth
Rasnah found Branston in the chapel of Soleil and was grateful she wouldn't have to climb the stairs to his office. She waited in the back for him to finish his prayers and blessings, the stack of heavy books weighing down her mind more than her arms. "General..." one of the parishioners greeted her in a respectful whisper as he passed, and she managed to force a smile.
"My dear Sir Rasnah, is that a library in your hands or are you just happy to see me?" Branston asked with a jovial laugh that shook his belly.
Rasnah wanted to smile for him, but he was too good a friend to deserve something fake, "I was hoping to use one of your classrooms, I assume the children are done with their studies for the day?"
The shift in Branston's demeanor was subtle, but she was relieved to see he understood her mood. He continued the smile for the sake of his priests and petitioners still mingling in the chapel. "Right this way, General." he opened the door to the courtyard for her, whispering, "Need a change of scene, my dear?"
"I need a blackboard," she explained, following him around the outer edge of the courtyard to the classrooms where the city children took their lessons. "The Temple has great rooms for planning battles, full of maps and tokens galore, but not a single blackboard."
"Seems like a great oversight," he chuckled, opening one of the classroom doors and gesturing her in, "Let us hope that fixing that particular problem isn't the only heroic accomplishment you're known for in generations to come."
Rasnah snorted out a genuine laugh at that, placing her pile on one of the tiny desks but going straight for the board. "The Clerics of Lune were able to identify four of the ten bodies from the tower," she explained, searching the tray for a large piece of chalk. "I've had someone tracing the names, but they weren't natives to Clearhelm, and they didn't come here through legal channels."
"Not surprising, considering..." he moved to stand beside her, squinting at the board, "What are you...?"
"Warlocks, Branston. We know there were Warlocks at the tower, but that's the only thing we know. What do you know about Warlock magic?"
Branston sucked in a pained breath, "Probably little more than you, my dear. Tell me what you know, and I will fill in any blanks I see."
With a sigh, Rasnah began to write on the board, speaking as she did so. She wanted to get everything out so she could actually see it, maybe draw connections she was missing from turning too many pages in too many books, "Warlock magic is neither divine nor arcane, though it is more similar to arcane in nature..."
"Except it's gifted to them by a patron, much like divine magic is gifted by the gods," Branston interjected. Rasnah had started to draw out the standard venn diagram with the 'divine' circle, and 'arcane' circle intersecting but stopped halfway through writing the word 'nature' between the two. Branston shook his head, "I'm afraid this won't work quite so cleanly in two dimensions..." he moved to the teacher's desk, taking a blank piece of paper and drawing out the venn diagram again, filling the page with the circles, so they touched the edges. Picking it up, he rolled the page into a tube, so the two circles intersected twice, "Warlock magic is the opposite of nature magic, though it has the same overlapping sources." he explained.
Rasnah groaned and erased her started 'nature' with the side of her hand, scrawling, 'warlock' in its place for simplicity's sake, "Let's just ignore nature for now then..." she tapped the new word, "Warlock magic leaves a very distinct residue, like both divine and arcane, but unlike them, it can't be accurately identified as anything other than 'warlock'..." But Branston hummed to interrupt her again.
"There are different types of warlock magic depending on the patron granting access to it," he explained, picking his own chalk and starting a list, "Demon magic from the hells, and necromantic magic from the abyss, are the two most documented..." both the hells and the abyss were seen as outside the heavenly planes, segments of the 'outer planes.'
Rasnah's nose crinkled in disgust at both examples. They were not new to her, but she hadn't known they could be identified by residual spell effects alone. Needing to make sure everything stayed clear, she recited what they both knew, "Demon magic is granted by patrons only interested in collecting souls. It can cut the ties between a person and their god, preventing them from going to the heavenly planes after death. Some accounts even state a Warlock powerful enough can cut off a Cleric or Paladin." it was the most terrifying thing any follower of the gods could imagine, but a close second was... "Necromantic magic raises the dead as undead, trapping and twisting souls in their decaying bodies."
"Do we know what kind of Warlocks we're dealing with?" Branston asked.
She shook her head in frustration, "Are there any other types?"
The Cleric nodded but then contradicted it with a shrug. When Rasnah arched an eyebrow at him, he sighed again, taking up his chalk, "Warlocks get their magic from a patron on the outer planes. Some theories suggest this is where the gods originated and that the beings who dwell there are the parents of our gods. Though 'parent' isn't the right word..." he drew out the names Hengist and Horsa side by side. Rasnah felt her nose crinkle again, a growl slipping out as he drew lines from each name up to a single word, 'law.'
He tapped the word, "Please keep in mind that all of this is theory posed by Mages and philosophers, there is no way of confirming any of it without making a pact ourselves, which obviously isn't an option..." Rasnah nodded curtly and gestured for him to continue. Branston cleared his throat, "In the outer planes exist beings of pure concepts, such as law and order. They embody ALL of the concept, even the parts that seem contradictory. Their children split these contradictions. You have to admit, my dear, that Hengist and Horsa both value law and order, only their execution of the concept contradicts each other."
"Horsa is evil." Rasnah growled.
"I'm not going to argue that, Sir Paladin, but humor me," he managed a smile and tapped the combining word again, "Warlocks make pacts with these sources and communicate with them directly. Such communication in itself is enough to drive them mad, add to the fact that the beings themselves often embody contradiction..."
"Which is why all Warlocks go mad." Rasnah interjected, "Even if they started off with good intentions for the power they gain from the pact, they all eventually end up crazy and dangerous. And most," she underlined the types of warlock magic they did know, "Start off insane..."
"Yes," Branston confirmed, tapping the types of magic as well then drawing a new word below them, 'law,' "Just as an example..." he muttered as he wrote, then louder explained, "Basically there are as many types as there may be beings to make a pact with. Unless these Warlocks have formed a pact we are already familiar with, we have no way of knowing who their patron is."
Rasnah threw her chalk into the tray in frustration, "Damn it, we know so little..."
The classroom door slipped open, and an elderly priest poked his head in before pulling back into the hall, speaking to someone there, "I found her, Sir."
A young Paladin stepped into the classroom, and Rasnah cleared her expression, becoming the General once again. The knight saluted, and Rasnah nodded for him to continue, "We found where they came from, Sir."
"Ask, and you shall receive." Branston muttered under his breath. But Rasnah had heard the hesitation in her Paladin's voice and narrowed her eyes at the man.
"Swailand, General..."
"Damn." Rasnah slammed her fist on the desk, her unopened books rattling with the force of it. She couldn't hold back the whispered, "Fuck..." her mind racing.
"Uh... Sir?" the Paladin started cautiously then snapped to attention as she glared up at him.
"Go to the Mages Guild, have them send a blanket message to all Hengist Temples, they are to find the Master Monk Veon-Zih, Ally to the Temple, First Class, and have him contact me through mirror as soon as possible."
"Sir!" the Paladin saluted, and just in case, repeated Veon-Zih's name and credentials before hurrying from the room.
"A Horsa province..." Branston sighed, "You think they'll let him in when they won't anyone else from the Temple?"
Rasnah sighed, leaning back on the desk and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, "Veon-Zih has connections everywhere. If anyone can insert themselves into this investigation, it's him." and the only people expressly banned from crossing Horsa's borders were Clerics and Paladins of Hengist. It took kingdom intervention to get such divine representatives across.
Branston took her by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake, "I'll see what strings I can pull from my end. Soleil's light shines on all lands."
She managed a weak smile, "Thank you, Branston."
***
The same Paladin who delivered the first message brought the second four hours later. Rasnah ordered him to get dinner for himself and at least six hours of sleep before reporting to her again and made her way to the Mages Guild at a brisk walk, only a step removed from a jog.
The attending Mage at the front desk recognized her rank right away, even if she didn't know Rasnah personally, and stood to escort her to the call room. Rasnah was in enough of a hurry that she almost considered letting the other woman off, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She cleared her throat loudly, taking out her identification papers and tapping them on the table.
The Journeyman Mage had the decency to look ashamed before she resumed her seat, taking Rasnah's papers to confirm her identity and purpose. "My apologies, General..." She muttered for the breach in protocol.
Rasnah wasn't the type to yell or punish on a whim, but she did explain curtly, "These protocols are kept in place for a reason, Journeyman. You above all others should know the capabilities of magic to disguise an individual or take another form,"
"Those spells are very difficult, General, and highly regulated..." the Mage started but stopped at Rasnah's glare,
"And only those capable of both high-level magic and breaking the law would risk impersonating me. Those are exactly the people this protocol is in place to stop." She took back her papers without further admonishing the young woman, who hurried to take her to the call room.
The room was more like a long hall, lined with high-walled stalls. Above each stall's door were set two gems, this late in the evening, nearly all the red gems glowed steadily, mixing with the illuminating white light to tint the walls in pink. At the far end, above the largest stall, the red gem blinked. Rasnah's guide opened the stall door for her, chanting quietly as she did so until the red gem dimmed and the green began to glow in its place.
Within the stall was a single mirror, reaching from Rasnah's waist to just above her head, but the reflection was not her own. Veon-Zih had his eyes closed as he stretched with one arm and scratched his chiseled belly with the other. His already tan skin looked even darker with blotches of dust and dirt from the road. He'd obviously taken Rasnah's request for immediate communication very seriously.
The sight of him couldn't help but make her smile, "Hengist's pure soul, you're filthy, old man."
Veon-Zih scoffed, his eyes still closed as he finished his stretch, "And after I made a point of washing the blood from my knuckles just for you young whippersnapper..." his voice echoed in through the mirror, a reminder that he wasn't actually with her. As if to drive that point home, he said, "If you need me up there, Ras, you could've just sent an order to gate."
Rasnah shook her head, "Except that I actually need you in Swailand. Where are you now?"
Veon-Zih dropped his hands, "Halakon. Why Swailand?" Rasnah arched an eyebrow at the Monk, momentarily distracted by personal concerns for her old friend.
She resisted the urge to ask him about what had taken him to the desert province and instead stated, "Well, that explains the dust." before continuing with the matter at hand, "We have a lead on the Warlocks. The corpses originated in..."
"Corpses?" Veon-Zih interrupted.
Rasnah sighed. In her rush to continue the investigation, she'd forgotten he didn't already know about the tower, "We've found the Warlocks in Clearhelm, or more accurately, we found some of their bodies, a few of the corpses were still able to be identified after the fire and..."
"Fire?" Veon-Zih shook his head, "Start from the beginning Ras. If you want me to be your eyes and ears in Horsa land, I'll need to know everything."
So Rasnah told him what little they knew about the burning tower, but when she was done, he asked, "Where was it?" which made Rasnah look away. "Ras?"
"Just north of Hamerfoss... Shon was there. He's the one who saved the girl."
"What?!" Veon-Zih shouted, becoming larger in the mirror after stepping closer, "Rasnah, he's fifteen, what in all the hells was he..."
"He's a Sorcerer." Rasnah interrupted, and Veon-Zih's jaw dropped.
He swallowed, then -just as she feared- he nodded, "I'm coming up there, send orders for a gate."
"No, I need you in Swailand. We are taking care of Shon."
"I know how the government takes care of Sorcerers, General." he spat, "I'm coming up there. I might not keep money on hand, but I have enough favors I can cash in. I won't let them seal his ki. He can get his clearance and..."
"We are not going to give him the tattoo." Rasnah shouted over him, then continued calmly, "And he isn't leaving Hamerfoss." Veon-Zih arched a disbelieving eyebrow, and Rasnah rolled her eyes, "I can't tell if you're mocking me or genuinely don't believe me. The Temple is vouching for Shon so he can get a sealing item instead of a tattoo. It will block the ice magic but allow him to cast divine spells after he takes his Oath. We are taking care of him, V, and I need you in Swailand. If Horsa tries to take over our investigation I'll be left in the dark up here."
Veon-Zih sighed, leaning forward to rest his hand beside the mirror on his end. He rubbed his face and over his head with his free hand, still torn. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper, "Did he hurt anyone?"
"Hamerfoss has no less than forty-two men capable of healing all but the most deadly wounds..."
"Rasnah. Please?" Sorcerers rarely woke without some collateral damage.
"He was sparring with a fellow and froze his feet to the ground. The boy broke an ankle and suffered minor frostbite; both were healed the same night." Rasnah answered, trying to stay detached from the issue. Veon-Zih was already invested enough for both of them.
"I should have suspected... he's always been so cold." But ice was also incredibly rare. The cold of those who possessed that element made it difficult to find willing partners to carry on their bloodline. Instead, it passed through siblings and cousins who didn't manifest until it finally did many generations later.
"Shon is fine, Master Veon-Zih," Rasnah spoke quietly, waiting for her friend to meet her eyes before she continued, "he is one of the best Squires we've ever had, and we will not let him go so easily. I'll have you brought up here by gate as soon as possible. As soon as you're done in Swailand. I need you there, my friend."
Veon-Zih stood straight again and rolled his shoulders back with another sigh, "Let me get a shower, and I'll head out tonight."
"Would you like a horse?" Rasnah forced a smirk to try and lighten the mood, glad when Veon-Zih returned the smile.
"First you offer to get me up there faster, then you threaten to slow me down? General Rasnah, I thought you wanted to stay involved in this investigation?"
Rasnah snickered but continued on topic, "Branston has already contacted the Abbot of the Church in Sanoloa," the capital of Swailand, "I will have the reports and orders delivered to you with a gate to the closest Hengist-controlled Guild, after your, much needed, shower."
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Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

Disclaimer: 2014 and below wouldn't appear since they don't have a rap and is difficult to rank them. The ranking will mainly have 3 parts:

1. Challenges. How are the challenges brought into the wotfi and how good and funny were the challenges executed and their representatives (looking at 2020 and up)
   
2. Raps. How are the rap brought to the wotfi, how decent is the music and are they even a rap at all (looking at you, 2021)
   
3. Overall. How much i enjoy them, and the ending
   

Challenges:
8: 2022. Absolutely ridiculous. There is absolutely no reason how did kirby just accepts what smg4 said, and i must say the teams are totally shit. They have a chance to make it wotfi again by making Nintendo mario fight smg4, but they go with every nintendo character EXCEPT mario. The challenges are also boring af and i couldn't get myself to laugh at all. This isn't a wotfi. There is no "war of the fat Italians" at all, just "conflict between nintendo characters and smg4 characters". Its all forced as fuck. As an arc finisher wotfi it isn't even climatic at all, since its the 4th arc finisher wotfi and the third one in A ROW. We all know this is going to win, and lawyer kong is way too comedic to be even climatic.
7: 2021. Another forced as shit wotfi. The challenges seems to be brought in at the last second to make it wotfi. the challenges are boring, but i got a few laughs. And also at least the opponent is a brainwashed mario so some scenes can still be called "war of the fat Italians", but the entire thing could be ended not with a wotfi. A simple movie will do. At least its more clinatic than 2022 with axol and mario being in stakes.
6: 2020 This wotfi isn't too bad compared to the last two. I'd say this is the turning point, but the challenges aren't that good either. At this point its just "battle of the two opposite sides" with almost no "war of the fat Italians" at all. It can be argued that smg3 is a fat italian, but none of the anti cast are. The challenges are good tho, at least better than the last two. Its the two sides that ruined this wotfi.
5: 2017 Ok, the rest on this list are now masterpieces in terms of challenges. Although it didn't elaborate on how they even started the wotfi, it doesn't matter since I'll take no reason more than a stupid and forced reason. The challenges are all entertaining and i almost never felt bored, tho imo it IS a bit forgettable at times, if you haven't watched it in a while. And X still exists
4: 2018 This is the first arc finisher wotfi, and it was one that was executed well. It was full on climatic, and the challenges are basically all good, and how they brought it in makes sense and feels natural. And it's also the only arc finisher where its mario vs smg4. The challenges are all good as well, an extremely good wotfi
3: 2019 This is the wotfi that is the perfect mix of modern and classic smg4, with modern characters with classic goals and startings. The challenges are all brought in well and X returned for the wotfi. The last classic based wotfi as well, and spoilers alert, my favourite wotfi of all time
2: 2016, 1: 2015 Both of these are way too good, and I'll talk about them at the same time. The way they brought in the challenges are very funny, and both challenges always had me laughing. 2015's challenges are much more chaotic, and that took my heart more.
8: 2021 THIS ISN'T EVEN A FUCKING RAP The song is decent tho, but its only a song. Never a rap and should never be said as one.
7: 2020 The raps get good starting here, but it still isn't my thing. I don't like Meggy's verses here, literally saying smg3 is the true villian and absolutely evil when smg4 started everything and drove him into this situation where he can be seen as evil. Other than that, i enjoyed the rap a lot. Nothing more to say tbh.
6: 2022 Despite coming from the worst arc in smg4 history, the rap was decent. I didn't really die inside in too much of the verses, and i didn't get bothered by F.K's tts. Still, there are much much better raps, and i still died inside from some verses. I love the part where they show the past arc villians tho.
5: 2018 Starting to get really good, the last stand against Waluigi. Almost no verses are bad, except for Meggy's verse which sounds like AAAAJAHAUQUSHDJDHQJAJSNSJAKAKDJDJ. Its still pretty good tho, especially Waluigi's lines
4: 2017 The arc is good, with a fast based rap. The first rap to include other characters as a team battle, yet still keeping wotfi's spirit in it. How inkling Meggy sounds still annoys me tho, yet still a very solid and good wotfi.
3: 2015 The rap is pure entertainment and chaos, and a full on mario vs smg4. Its just insults threw to each other, and that's what makes wotfi, wotfi. Amazing rap
2: 2016 Another rap with pure fun and chaos, with insults thrown everywhere. A boss battle really brings in the mood, and seeing that mario and smg4 joining forces and focus all insults to bowser is so darn good.
1: 2019 An absolutely beautiful rap, with a mix of classic and modern. Smg4 and mario are still the main focuses here, but they added the modern characters in as well. X just snapping and trying to get the 2 italians to calm down is pure gold. Amazing.
All in all ranking: 8: 2021. I couldn't get myself to enjoy this wotfi at all. Its so boring, and not traditional at all.
7: 2022. Almost the same story with 2022. I couldn't decide which one i hate more, but at least the rap is a banger. However, this is almost not a wotfi. Arguably worst, but i did like the rap.
6: 2020. I just don't like how its not really wotfi, but smg3 is quite fun and at least i don't hate this one, just think its a mid one.
5: 2018. A huge gap between mid and a close masterpiece, with one i enjoyed a lot. Arguably the only arc finisher with climatic elements, and an epic showdown between the 2 sides, without giving up the charm of wotfi.
4: 2017. A fun wotfi with fun challenges, one that i really liked from how good challenges was happening. Also a small step into close modern smg4 with the inclusion of meggy in the rap
3: 2016. 2: 2015. Talking these two at the same time again, bite me. two are just pure fun and stupidity, and that's the charm of wotfi. With chaotic challenges and insults in rap battles, these two are probably the ones that scream classic wotfi the most.
1: 2019. My actual favourite out of the bunch, a mix between modern and classic while keeping all wotfi elements of mario vs smg4 which started with a dumb reason, great challenges and the best rap out of all. This is a well balanced wotfi and the greatest one. I love this wotfi, and i appreciate it even more overtime being the last normal wotfi so far. Hope 2023 will be a traditional wotfi.
So here we go, all ratings. Take this opnion with a pinch of salt, and these are all my personal opnions. Scream at me if you want, it ain't gonna change my opnions much. Of course, if you gave a shit.

Hey fellow redditors,
we present our latest Harvest Temple Challenge Mode class-stacking challenge. This time with 10 Warriors (just in time before they get reworked with the next patch) where we also made use of every single spec, including Core Warrior (only the Arms trait line was not used by any player)!
Similar to the Necromancer run, we also did not yet have a source for Alacrity on Warrior, so we just played without it. We still managed just fine and did not have any problems with dps overall thanks to the decent amount of power creep. Warrior in general has many tools to deal with the different mechanics in HT CM, but two of the most notable things were missing Invisibility and also lacking Protection. The latter was noticeable in some phases with high incoming damage.
The strategy with more details and some Trivia information about the wipes per phase for this run (and previous class-stacking runs in HT CM) are listed below.
Log: https://dps.report/oRBg-20230609-212438_void
Squad (PoVs)

Role	Player
Power Berserker	Asterius
Power Bladesworn	Airen
Power Bladesworn	Blast
Power Bladesworn	Noisi
Power Bladesworn	Pentalux
Power Bladesworn	Rickz
Power Bladesworn	Silver
Power Spellbreaker	Minas
Heal Quickness Bladesworn	Bear
Heal Quickness Warrior	Lottie (death compilation)

Big thanks to Fita and Kartky for helping out during progress!
Strategy
We wanted to bring every specialization for this run, even a core Warrior. The best slot for the latter was the kite role, since it is only slightly inferior to Bladesworn as Heal Quickness Kiter and using core on a dps spot would cost more. Spellbreaker is the only Warrior spec with built-in Boonstrip, so it was a natural choice to use anyways. Initially we went with 2 Spellbreakers for more flexible Boonstrip, but on the evening where we killed it, we had only one available. Berserker got recently buffed and is doing really decent dps now and since we had one playing it, it was a no-brainer to include as well. All of the other slots were filled with everyone's favourite Speedrun-class since EoD launched: Bladesworn. The added mobility and range on Gunsaber made it better than the default SpellbreakeBerserker dps builds and since also so much damage is backed into Dragon Trigger (DT), it loses less dps if you can deal with mechanics during the cooldown of DT. A scary part in this run was the relatively little access to Stability and Protection, which can makes some phases spicy.
In Harvest Temple CM there are multiple important mechanics that have to be dealt with.

• Boonstripping the boss and adds is easy enough with Spellbreaker. Break Enchantments was used instead of Signet of Might for some flexible access to Boonstrip. Furthermore, Dagger F1 boonstrips as well and we also had our Bladesworn Kiter equipped with a Nullification Sigil.
• CC was also not an issue. Warrior in general has a lot of access to CC. Bladesworn on Gunsaber 3 and DT, Spellbreaker on Hammer, Berserker on some skills and Core Warrior on Mace. The only tight part for CC is the immediate AoE CC needed for the Champions phase, but we had more than enough fast AoE skills to make sure we don't rely completely on DT for the CC.
• Invisibility/Adds: Since Warrior has no possibility to Stealth (except playing Norn), we had to play without it. After all of the Stack runs we did so far, we gathered a lot of experience in how the Enemy behaviour works. The only really precise part are the Champions at the beginning of the final Soo-Won phase. There, the exact positioning is very important. If someone is standing too close to them, they might start casting their attacks instead of running up close. We stacked under the boss, CCd immediately once they were in melee range and thanks to the insane, front-loaded damage of Bladesworn, we killed them before they could unleash their strong attacks (most notably the Ice Field from the Goliath).
• Greens: One of the main HT CM mechanics are the Greens that need to be soaked by two people each. One of the Greens is being done by the typical kiters, in our case the Heal Quick Warrior and Bladesworn. Both have access to a lot of mobility, especially with Sword in the Mainhand, which made dealing with the involved movement of Greens (and Reds) relatively easy. The other far away Green was done by 2 dps Bladesworns. Nothing really special here, they just had to sacrifice their dps and run back and forth to deal with this mechanic. Similarly, Gunsaber 5 of course helps with the movement.
• Zhaitan Fear: We used Durability Runes on both Kiters in addition to the Tactics banner, which gives enough Resistance to cover the fear. Nevertheless we had enough Cleanses anyways to immediately cleanse all of the applied Conditions with Warhorn 5 and the trait "Shrug it Off". In order to fully prevent the incoming damage from fear, we used Defiant Stance on all Warriors (except for the Berserker). (This actually also prevents deaths if you fail the Green mechanic and was a nice safety net for other phases as well, it is just a pity that it no longer works for the spread mechanic; this was fixed some time ago and would have otherwise allowed us to ignore the spreading mechanic in other phases).
• Orb projectiles: This is one mechanic for which Warrior lacks tools. There are some options, like reflects on Blocks with a trait in Defense, or the Spellbreaker Elite, but nothing to take care of the projectiles permanently. Therefore, we had to play the phases simply without projectile blocks and only used the Spellbreaker bubble in some key moments to block projectiles.
• Champions Burst: We did not have Stealth, but if you stand close to the Edge in the center of the boss hitbox, both Champions run up close, if they are not attacked. This was what we needed to get a good burst window. The hardest part was actually getting the immediate CC done on both Champions. This was easier on the Necro stack, because of the insane CC of Reaper's Elite Shout. However, we still managed to do that and thanks to the awesome front-loaded Bladesworn damage, we also managed to kill the Goliath Champion before the Ice field was casted. This was the crucial point. After defeating the Champions in the burst, it was an immediate kill and in all of the Soo-Won2 wipes listed in the table below, we wiped everytime because of messed up Champions.
• Stability/Boons/Condis: Overall, Boon availability on Warrior is quite ... special. Most of the generic boons are easily covered, but Stability and Protection are on the lower end. Stability was less of an issue, since many mechanics can simply be outplayed instead of relying on Stability. Similarly for Prot, however especially in Orb 2 with the incoming damage from the Timecaster Add, it was very noticeable that we lack Prot (and good ranged heals). In general, the boon-output from Heal Warrior is actually quite amazing though. Might, Swiftness, Regen, Resistance, Fury and more is almost fully covered. Another small detail that was a tiny bit lacking was actually Vulnerabity, in cases where the Bladesworn rotations are in sync. We tried to let some Bladesworns do a fractal opener to spread the Vuln applications from Pistol 4 more out, but at the end of the day it was still not optimal.

Trivia
The wipes per phases for the class-stack runs so far were as follows. Primordius is still the biggest Nemesis, but relatively speaking: Orb 2 and Soo-Won 2 (or specifically the Champions) were the hardest parts for this run.

Phase	Warrior Wipes	Necro Wipes	Guardian Wipes	Revenant Wipes	Mesmer Wipes	Engineer Wipes
Total	78	72	150	315	320	48
Orb 1	14	4	17	43	44	5
Jormag	7	8	22	40	67	6
Primordius	24	20	50	97	98	14
Kralkatorrik	3	4	9	17	7	0
Orb 2	17	11	9	27	17	5
Mordremoth	2	8	5	11	16	1
Zhaitan	3	10	24	53	39	10
Orb 3	0	3	6	2	6	2
Soo-Won 1	1	1	2	10	17	1
Orb 4	0	0	0	1	1	0
Soo-Won 2	7	3	6	14	7	4

Hi! i'm a Brazilian living here in the US. Send me your best movie recommendation. i'm a big fan of harry potter movie/s and i'm into anime too. for me nothing beats a good relaxing nighty with a good movie. i always love to talk about this kinds of topics maybe we can spend the night chatting and maybe make a movie bucket list
my top 3 movies are Harry potter. Lord of the ring and Cast away. Hmu if your interested :)

Firstly, English isn't my first language. May there are spelling/grammar mistakes.
As the title says, my grandfather died on the June 7th. He was more than a grandfather, he was like a father.
Some context for better understanding. My mother died in 2017 and she was never a good mother, she abused me mentally and physically. She was a drug addict and severely depressed. I came to live with my grandparents through Child Protective Services before she died. And it was the best thing that could ever happen to me. Nevertheless, I suffer since then not to have parents. Or a childhood like every child wishes for.
But my grandpa was always there for me, he was since I was born. He is my superhero, my anchor, my savior in need. And now he is dead. He was not old. He would have been 65. I'm 18, so I'm an adult in my country. But he still had so much to show me. He missed so many milestones. He will never be around again.
I can't cry, I can't scream, I can't be sad, I can't feel anything. I just exist. I try to be there for my grandma.
I don't know what my future is going to be like. He wanted to help me with my own apartment, with my education, with my life.
I'm dating a guy he'll never meet. I'm graduating without him seeing the prom.
He was taken from me. He was just taken away from me. Everything reminds me of him. The house, my things he gave me, my dog, my reflection. I look like him.
It's just a void. A place that can never be filled again. I want him back.

Hi all! This is my second attempt after some great feedback on my first. On the opening 300 words, I've focused to the conflict at home and Freya's relationship with her sister, but please let me know if you think I'd be better off scrapping the opening paragraph completely and try something else!
Any comp ideas would be gratefully received!
-----------
I am seeking representation for my first novel, Soulbound, a YA contemporary fantasy complete at 95,000 words. The novel follows the struggles of eighteen-year-old Freya after the murder of her sister by supernatural criminals drives her down a path of vengeance. I’m particularly excited to submit to you as [reasons].
Freya’s sister is killed in a brutal attack by criminals controlling a monstrous spirit. Grief-stricken, traumatised, and blamed by her superstitious family, she swears to get revenge, but the only way to stand against the power of the monsters responsible is to become one herself.
She binds her soul to a spirit that promises to help her, but it seeks its own bloodthirsty vengeance against the criminals and is willing to kill anyone who stands in its way. Unable to control it or the wild powers it granted her, Freya accidentally injures one of her friends. She is arrested and forced to join the secretive Gemini Corps that polices those who use spirits for evil.
Freya dedicates herself to mastering her new abilities, determined to see her sister’s killers brought down, but at every step she battles with her untameable spirit and the rage that binds them. She learns that the criminals are working to harness an ancient spirit to help them bring the Corps to its knees. Freya knows that if she gives in to her spirit’s savagery, they might be strong enough to take down the criminals, but it would mean losing her humanity altogether.
Soulbound will appeal to older YA readers who enjoyed the fiery emotional journey of Melinda Salisbury’s Her Dark Wings.
-----
300 words:
I saw it on the news first, a jagged black shape filling the city street. Its head was inside a building like a vulture at a carcass, twisting and tearing at something inside, and its wings rose taller than the abandoned bus nearby. Flashing lights stained the gleaming spines blue.
I took the remote from Mum’s limp hand. She’d fallen asleep in front of the TV, a half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table. If she woke and saw the news, my night was over.
The newswoman was following the usual script about a ‘Gemini’ attack, as if people would ever believe they weren’t just demons, and I caught the word ‘Birmingham’ before the clatter of heels on the stairs behind me made me change the channel.
I quickly put the remote down before Cara saw; I wasn’t going to let a demon attack fifteen miles away ruin the best night of summer.
“Ready?!” Cara said, wobbling on her heels.
We were identical twins, but where her dark hair fell in a cascade of curls around her shoulders, I had spent half an hour taming mine with a jewelled clip and about a million hairgrips.
Mum blearily opened her eyes. “I hope you’re not sneaking off without giving me a kiss goodbye.”
I glanced at the TV – a cheerful gardening show now – and wondered if she would notice I’d changed it. Could we be away before she changed it back? We could put our phones on silent, ignore the calls and messages and guilt, and deal with the consequences tomorrow. Knowing Cara, though, she’d rush back at the first text and spend the night soothing Mum’s wild terror, and she wouldn’t even have the sense to be pissed about it.

1. Wizard: Masters of arcane knowledge, wizards wield powerful spells and manipulate the fabric of reality.
   
2. Sorcerer: Born with innate magical abilities, sorcerers command raw and unpredictable magic.
   
3. Guardian: Protectors of their allies, guardians excel in defense, damage reduction, and drawing enemy attention.
   
4. Paladin: Devoted warriors with divine powers, paladins uphold righteousness and smite enemies with holy might.
   
5. Witch Doctor: Mysterious and spiritual, witch doctors commune with spirits, wield curses, and provide support to allies.
   
6. Warlock: Forging pacts with otherworldly beings, warlocks gain dark powers and eldritch invocations.
   
7. Fighter: Highly skilled in combat, fighters are masters of martial prowess and excel in a variety of weapons and styles.
   
8. Ranger: Expert trackers and wilderness warriors, rangers combine archery and nature magic to navigate the wilderness.
   
9. Rogue: Masters of stealth and deception, rogues excel in dexterity-based combat and cunning tactics.
   
10. Druid: Connected to nature, druids command elemental forces, shapeshift into animals, and heal using nature's power.
    
11. Barbarian: Fierce and relentless warriors, barbarians tap into primal rage for increased strength and durability.
    
12. Monk: Disciplined warriors with extraordinary physical prowess, monks focus on unarmed combat and martial arts.
    
13. Bard: Masters of music and storytelling, bards use their charisma to inspire allies, cast spells, and manipulate emotions.
    
14. Cleric: Devoted to divine powers, clerics channel the energy of their deity to heal, protect, and smite enemies.
    
15. Blood Tracker: Gifted with the ability to sense and track blood, blood trackers excel in hunting down their prey.
    

TLDR: what if the The Flintstones and The Jetsons exist in the same world at the same time, but separated not by time, but rather a caste system that similar in nature to Brave New World. I've had this notion since I read Brave New World when I was 11 and ChatGPT has helped me flush out the idea, anyone who wishes to expand upon this is welcome.
The Flintstones and The Jetsons exist in the same world, with The Flintstones representing a lower caste living in a reservation-like environment while The Jetsons represent a higher caste living in a technologically advanced society: 1. Socioeconomic Divide: In both The Flintstones and The Jetsons, there is a clear socioeconomic divide. The Flintstones depict a primitive Stone Age society where the characters live in modest stone houses and rely on animals for technology. On the other hand, The Jetsons portray a futuristic world where the characters reside in elaborate skyscrapers and enjoy advanced technology. This stark contrast in living conditions suggests a significant disparity between the two groups. 2. Limited Mobility: The Flintstones are depicted as being geographically confined to the Stone Age setting, often referred to as Bedrock. They have no access to advanced technology or the ability to travel beyond their prehistoric surroundings. In contrast, The Jetsons live high above the ground, relying on flying cars and other futuristic means of transportation. Their ability to move freely and explore different locations indicates a greater level of privilege and access. 3.Technological Advancement: The Jetsons possess highly advanced technology that simplifies their daily lives, such as robotic helpers, flying cars, and instant food preparation. In contrast, The Flintstones rely on rudimentary tools and animals for their day-to-day tasks. The stark difference in technological capabilities further supports the idea of a segregated society, with The Jetsons benefiting from advanced technology while The Flintstones are left behind. 4. Social Stratification: The Flintstones and The Jetsons both exhibit clear social hierarchies. In Brave New World, social classes are rigidly divided, with each caste having predetermined roles and functions. Similarly, The Flintstones' society resembles a lower caste living in a simpler, less technologically advanced state, while The Jetsons represent a higher caste enjoying the benefits of futuristic advancements. This parallel suggests that both shows explore the concept of caste systems, albeit in a less explicitly dystopian manner than in Brave New World.

1. Fred Flintstone - John (The Savage): Both Fred Flintstone and John are portrayed as individuals who question and challenge the norms of their respective societies. They exhibit a sense of individuality and struggle to conform to the rigid expectations placed upon them.
   
2. Wilma Flintstone - Lenina Crowne: Wilma Flintstone, like Lenina Crowne, can be seen as a character who represents the ideals of her society. They both adhere to the societal norms and expectations placed upon them, although they might experience occasional moments of questioning or rebellion.
   
3. Barney Rubble - Bernard Marx: Barney Rubble and Bernard Marx share similarities in their experiences of feeling like outsiders in their respective societies. They both struggle with their self-perception and seek validation or a sense of belonging.
   
4. Betty Rubble - Fanny Crowne: Betty Rubble and Fanny Crowne can be linked in the sense that they embody the conventional values and expectations of their societies. They are portrayed as adhering to social norms and being content with their assigned roles.
   
5. George Jetson - Mustapha Mond: George Jetson, as the patriarch of the Jetson family, can be compared to Mustapha Mond, the World Controller in Brave New World. Both characters hold positions of authority within their respective societies and are responsible for upholding the established order.
   
6. Jane Jetson - Linda Lysenko: Jane Jetson and Linda Lysenko share similarities as wives and mothers who navigate their roles within their respective societies. They are depicted as conforming to societal expectations while also experiencing occasional moments of dissatisfaction or longing for something different.
   
7. Elroy Jetson - Reuben Rabinovitch: Elroy Jetson and Reuben Rabinovitch can be seen as young characters who are curious and have a potential for challenging the status quo. Although their roles and circumstances are different, both characters exhibit a certain level of intellectual curiosity.
   --- Main Story.
   

In a distant future, Earth is divided into two distinct societies: the advanced and technologically superior world of the Jetsons and the primitive reservation-like society of the Flintstones. However, these societies are not separate entities but rather different levels within the same global structure.
The Jetsons, residing high above in their futuristic utopia, are part of an elite caste that enjoys all the comforts and conveniences of advanced technology. Their lives are carefully controlled, with social roles predetermined and individuality suppressed. Soma, a potent substance, keeps the Jetsons docile and content.
Unbeknownst to the Jetsons, their society is intricately linked to the existence of the Flintstones. The Flintstones, representing a lower caste, live in a secluded area called Bedrock, akin to a reservation. They are intentionally kept in a primitive state by the ruling class, who view them as a source of nostalgia and a reminder of the past.
The protagonist, Fred Flintstone, becomes disillusioned with his confined existence and yearns for something more. Through a series of events, Fred discovers a hidden passage that connects Bedrock to the Jetsons' world. Intrigued, he ventures into the futuristic society, where he encounters George Jetson, who secretly questions the monotony of his life.
Fred and George form an unlikely alliance, determined to uncover the truth about their shared world. They navigate the complexities of their respective societies, exposing the dark underbelly of control, manipulation, and inequality. Along the way, they encounter other characters from both worlds who struggle with their roles and seek freedom.
As their journey progresses, Fred and George learn about the origin of their society, discovering that it was intentionally engineered by a powerful ruling class to maintain control and prevent societal upheaval. They face moral dilemmas, make alliances, and confront the harsh realities of their world.
Together, Fred and George rally the disillusioned members of both societies, initiating a revolution that challenges the oppressive systems in place. Their goal is to bridge the gap between the castes, dismantle the control mechanisms, and allow for individuality, choice, and genuine human connections.
The story culminates in a climactic confrontation between the ruling class and the united forces of the Jetsons and the Flintstones. Themes of rebellion, sacrifice, and the search for true freedom resonate throughout the narrative, as characters from both worlds join forces to shape a new society where individuality and humanity can thrive.
As the revolution gains momentum, resistance spreads throughout both the Jetsons and Flintstones societies. The characters from both worlds start to question the predefined roles assigned to them and challenge the oppressive systems that have kept them divided.
Wilma Flintstone and Jane Jetson form a powerful alliance, embodying the strength and determination of women in their fight for freedom and equality. Together, they inspire others to break free from their prescribed roles and contribute to the movement.
Meanwhile, Elroy Jetson and Pebbles Flintstone, two young and curious individuals, uncover a hidden truth about the origins of their world. They stumble upon ancient documents that reveal a forgotten history, exposing the manipulative tactics used by the ruling class to create and maintain the caste-based society.
As the revolution gains traction, the ruling class retaliates, using their technological prowess to suppress the uprising. They deploy their advanced gadgets and employ psychological tactics to suppress the rebellion and maintain their grip on power.
However, Fred and George, driven by their determination and the hope for a better future, rally their comrades and develop ingenious strategies to counter the ruling class. They leverage the primitive yet resourceful skills of the Flintstones and the innovative technology of the Jetsons to outwit their oppressors.
The battle reaches its climax as the revolutionaries breach the fortified barriers between the two worlds. The Flintstones and Jetsons unite, demonstrating that their shared humanity and resilience are more powerful than any technological advantage the ruling class possesses.
In a final showdown, the revolutionaries expose the truth to the masses, revealing the manipulations and lies that have perpetuated their divided existence. The people, awakened to the possibilities of genuine freedom and self-determination, rise up as a collective force.
Together, they dismantle the oppressive structures and establish a new society that embraces the values of individuality, compassion, and cooperation. The remnants of the ruling class are held accountable for their actions, and measures are put in place to prevent the reemergence of a caste-based system.
The story concludes with the Flintstones and Jetsons, once separated by a vast divide, now living together in a harmonious society that integrates the best aspects of both worlds. The triumph of the revolution signals a new era where the potential of humanity is unlocked, free from the shackles of an oppressive past.
In the aftermath of the revolution, the integrated society of former Flintstones and Jetsons faces the daunting task of rebuilding and redefining their world. They embark on a collective effort to establish a fair and just governance system that safeguards individual freedoms while promoting equality and mutual respect.
Drawing upon the wisdom and experiences of both the Flintstones and the Jetsons, the new society embraces a balanced approach to progress and technology. They recognize the importance of preserving the simplicity and connection to nature from the Flintstones' world, while also harnessing the transformative power of advanced technology from the Jetsons' world to enhance their quality of life.
Education becomes a cornerstone of the new society, fostering critical thinking, creativity, and empathy. The people strive to learn from the mistakes of their past and actively work to cultivate an inclusive and compassionate culture that values diversity and encourages open dialogue.
Fred and George, as respected figures who played pivotal roles in the revolution, assume leadership positions to guide the transitional period. With their shared experiences and understanding of both worlds, they become advocates for unity, collaboration, and the continuous pursuit of a better future for all.
The new society also recognizes the importance of honoring and preserving their history. They establish museums and cultural centers that celebrate the unique heritage of both the Flintstones and the Jetsons, fostering a sense of identity and connection to their collective past.
Over time, the integrated society flourishes, with advancements in technology and social progress benefiting all its inhabitants. Collaboration and cooperation become the norm, as individuals from diverse backgrounds work together to address the challenges that arise.
However, the memory of the oppressive past remains a reminder of the fragility of freedom. The society remains vigilant, nurturing a culture that values individual rights, personal growth, and community well-being. They understand that maintaining a balance between technological advancement and human connection is crucial for the longevity and sustainability of their newfound harmony.
The story concludes with a sense of hope and optimism for the future, as the integrated society of former Flintstones and Jetsons embraces their shared humanity and collective potential. They stand as a testament to the resilience and transformative power of individuals coming together to challenge the status quo and shape a brighter world for generations to come.
As time passes, the integrated society of former Flintstones and Jetsons thrives, embracing the principles of equality, freedom, and harmony. Their collective journey becomes an inspiration for neighboring societies still grappling with similar issues of oppression and social stratification.
The integrated society reaches out to these neighboring communities, sharing their experiences and offering support and guidance in dismantling oppressive systems. Through peaceful exchange and dialogue, they foster a network of interconnected societies committed to building a more equitable and inclusive world.
As the integrated society continues to evolve, they recognize the importance of sustainable practices and environmental stewardship. They invest in clean energy technologies, conservation efforts, and the restoration of natural habitats, working hand in hand with the land and embracing a more balanced relationship with their environment.
Culture and the arts flourish in this integrated society, as creativity and expression are celebrated and valued. Artists from various backgrounds collaborate to weave together the rich tapestry of their shared heritage, creating works that reflect their journey and inspire future generations.
Education remains a cornerstone of their society, evolving to meet the changing needs and challenges of the world. They prioritize comprehensive education that nurtures critical thinking, empathy, and global citizenship. By empowering individuals with knowledge and fostering a lifelong love of learning, they ensure the continuous growth and progress of their society.
Throughout the integrated society, there is a deep sense of community and interconnectedness. Social support systems are strengthened, and individuals actively participate in civic life, contributing their unique skills and perspectives to the betterment of society as a whole. Collaboration and cooperation are not just buzzwords but integral values that guide their interactions and decision-making processes.
Fred and George, who played pivotal roles in the revolution, gradually transition from positions of formal leadership to become respected elders and mentors. They pass on their wisdom and experiences, helping to shape future generations and ensuring the continuity of the society's principles and values.
As the story comes to a close, it is evident that the integrated society of former Flintstones and Jetsons has created a lasting legacy. Their journey from oppression to liberation serves as a beacon of hope for other societies, inspiring them to challenge existing systems and envision a future where all individuals can thrive.
The story ultimately highlights the transformative power of unity, empathy, and the shared pursuit of a more just and compassionate world. It reminds us that the strength of humanity lies not in our divisions but in our ability to overcome them, forging new paths towards a future defined by cooperation, respect, and the celebration of our shared humanity.
With the integrated society of former Flintstones and Jetsons serving as a shining example of progress and unity, their influence begins to spread far and wide. The neighboring societies that once struggled with oppression and inequality are inspired by their success and embark on their own journeys of transformation.
Leaders from these neighboring societies seek guidance and collaboration with the integrated society, recognizing the wisdom and experience they possess. Through partnerships and exchange programs, knowledge is shared, and cooperative efforts are established to address systemic issues and foster sustainable development.
Together, these societies form an alliance, known as the United World Coalition, committed to creating a global community that upholds the principles of equality, justice, and environmental stewardship. They work collaboratively on a range of initiatives, including eradicating poverty, ensuring universal access to quality education and healthcare, and promoting cultural diversity and inclusivity.
The United World Coalition becomes a powerful force for positive change, advocating for the rights of marginalized communities and challenging oppressive systems wherever they exist. By leveraging their collective resources and expertise, they actively work towards creating a world free from discrimination, prejudice, and social inequality.
As the Coalition expands its influence, it faces resistance from those who seek to maintain the status quo and perpetuate division. However, their shared vision and unwavering determination allow them to overcome these obstacles, forging a path towards a more equitable and sustainable future.
In this global movement, Fred and George, revered as visionary leaders, assume vital roles in guiding the United World Coalition. Their experiences and wisdom earned from the revolution serve as a guiding light for this unprecedented endeavor, inspiring unity and collective action on a global scale.
Through ongoing collaboration and the exchange of ideas, the member societies of the United World Coalition continue to learn from one another, adapting their policies and practices to foster greater harmony and prosperity. They prioritize the well-being of all people and the preservation of the planet, recognizing the interconnectedness of social, economic, and environmental issues.
As the Coalition progresses, they leverage advancements in technology and innovation to tackle complex challenges. Sustainable energy solutions, responsible resource management, and breakthroughs in healthcare and agriculture become key focal points, ensuring the well-being of present and future generations.
Education remains at the heart of the Coalition's mission, with a renewed emphasis on fostering critical thinking, empathy, and global citizenship. By equipping individuals with the knowledge and skills needed to navigate an ever-changing world, they empower them to actively participate in shaping their communities and contribute to the greater good.
As the story concludes, the United World Coalition stands as a testament to the transformative power of unity and collaboration. Their collective efforts have created a world where societal divisions have been replaced by a shared sense of humanity, where differences are celebrated, and where everyone has an equal opportunity to thrive.
The integrated society of former Flintstones and Jetsons, once confined to their own worlds, played a crucial role in igniting a global movement towards a more just and sustainable future. Their journey from oppressive systems to a harmonious and inclusive society became the catalyst for change, inspiring countless individuals and communities to join the collective effort.
The story leaves us with a profound sense of hope, reminding us that by transcending divisions and embracing our shared humanity, we have the power to shape a world where equality, freedom, and compassion prevail. It is a testament to the enduring spirit of humanity and the boundless potential that lies within us all.
..End of Line

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Lots of thanks to u/Killsode-slugcat for helping me work through this chapter with editing.
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Memory transcription subject: Tevri, Venlil Romanticist
Date [standardized human time]: August 11, 2137
With eyes still closed, I stretched my legs and arms, paws pushing up against the inside of my sleeping bag. A sigh of contentment escaped my mouth.
I let the world in—light falling down in shafts that struck my still-waking eyes. No trees were around to provide cover from the rising sun that hung low in the east. The sounds of life surrounded me, occasionally being broken up by particularly strong gusts as well as a hint of something else.
My head turned to that hint, who still slept somewhat soundly off to my side. Last night Jack had set up his own sleeping bag less than an arm’s length from my own, citing our lack of a fire as the reason to gather closer to each other.
He tossed and turned, occasionally, muttering incoherently. At least he’s found some rest. After carrying me for over half of yesterday, he had certainly earned it.
It was actually quite surprising how well he had managed it all. His slim build compared to other humans that I had seen was betrayed by a hidden strength and incredible endurance. I suppose millions of years of evolution tends to allow such a thing.
Some part of me still felt bitter about what he had done the night prior to our last, but it was clear to me that his apology was sincere. I gave a quiet snort. He probably wouldn’t have carried you on your shoulders if he wasn’t at least somewhat sorry.
The covers of my too-big bag were thrown off and I sat up, holding my knocked knees with my paws.
Rocky rolling hills with low-grown shoots of grass lightly waved towards me. The nearby mountain range looked down upon us with its well-kept snow despite the summer season. Even three days of standing beneath them didn’t eliminate their wondrously looming presence.
I reached over to my nearby pack and grabbed my pen and journal. I clung to every thought that passed its way through my mind, marking them down the old fashioned way. There was something special about writing my feelings down on something physical rather than some pad or computer. It felt real in comparison to the alternative.
It was incredible to me how one of, if not the most dangerous planet to be found within known space was simultaneously one of the most fantastically beautiful worlds I ever had the pleasure of setting foot on. What a travesty it would have been had the federation actually managed to glass the biosphere. Ironically it had been the Arxur that prevented such a disastrous outcome. Those same savages had…
“Gah!”
Jack shot upright from where he had lain. He heaved harsh breaths, chest rising and falling as though he had just sprinted up the incline of a hill. I looked on with alarm, but didn’t think to disrupt the startled man. His eyes stared down at the dirt in front of him as he hung his hands between his legs.
“You okay?” I asked. He whipped to look at me like he had forgotten I was there. Slowly, he turned back to face the dirt. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He took a curt sniff and ran his hands across his face as he took a deep sigh.
He was lying.
The restless sleep, the violent rise into consciousness, the obvious distress within those wild eyes—all signs of nightmares. It had been years now since I last worried about such things, but I knew all too well how difficult they were to deal with.
A thought, as intrusive as it was unwelcome, pushed its way through the crowded thoughts of my mind, forcing my heart to skip a beat. What would be enough to scare a predator—human—to scare a human within their dreams? Instantly, I shoved it back from wherever it had come. He needs you right now, just like how you needed her.
I gently crawled over to the distraught man and set a paw on an arm while he leaned forward. At my touch, he turned his head towards me, staring with those forward-facing eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
A slight snarl of a smile crossed his face, but no answer came. Jack stood up and stretched his arms outward, leaning back and forth.
“C’mon, let's pack up and head out. S’always good to start out early.” He extended a hand down to me where I sat still. How could he just brush something so terrifying off so easily? My tail flicked absently I guess they always have been a rather resilient species. Why should they be any different mentally? I relented to his proposal, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull me upright.
Breakfast—much like last night’s meal—consisted of dry pre-prepped rations. Without surrounding trees from which drywood could be scavenged, we were left fireless. The ‘breakfast bars’ as Jack called them were a sufficient substitute for warm food. Every meal with the human increased my interest in the cuisine of his species. I hadn’t imagined it would all be so wonderfully varied and delicious.
The bar itself was chewy, made of oats, filled with dried fruits and sweetened by sugar. Each bite gave a satisfying crunch as my taste buds reveled in the impeccably delightful taste.
After hydrating and filling ourselves with calories, we set off once more on the trail.
This time, I was actually able to walk properly, though less than an hour after we departed, I was left wishing that Jack could scare me sleepless again—that way I could guilt him into carrying me.
While we continued, I walked without thinking much about the placement of my paws. I worried for my human friend. His mind was clearly plagued by something terrible, but the answer of what continued to evade me. The only lead I had were my own experiences, and in chasing that lead, my mind wandered back to the past.
As I was dragged from our home without protest, Devra lambasted our parents. Velnik cowered to the side as he watched the ordeal, helpless with widened eyes. Dad practically had to peel my sister away from mom as I was shoved into our vehicle. The echo of her shouts faded away.
It was the first time my parents admitted me for predator disease screenings.
An iron grip held my hand and led me forward through the stark featureless halls of the facility. A glance over my shoulder revealed my parents walking along. They dared not to risk a look in my direction. Tears welled at the edge of my eyes as the echoes of distant screams shocked my ears and flooded my brain with fear-chemicals.
My tail wrapped around my body and my ears bent towards the ground. Why did they want to throw me in here with the monsters? All I did was explore.
The facility worker threw me in a chair within a purely white room other than the single large black wall. From the ceiling hung a projector that faced one of the three white surfaces. After the worker left, my eyes floated through the room, narrowing at a sight that practically screamed of its existence. Dark lines were scrawled into the furthest corner of the sterile chamber.
I didn’t have the time to think about its implications when the screen clicked on and the lights dimmed, enhancing the image before me.
The metal chair fell backward with me in it, creating a resounding clang that bounded back and forth across the walls.
My hands slipped and slid across the slick floor, carrying my body backwards. This scramble led the wall to smash against my back. Without a thought, my claws joined the countless other marks of those who had come before me.
A towering, onyx-shaded visage of the malevolent beast prowled beyond the edge of my vision, obscured by tears of terror that practically blinded me. The blood-orange eyes glowed greedily and its mouth was stuck in a perpetual snarl. Viscera of a horrifically familiar color dribbled down its chin from where the meat was in the Arxur’s razor-sharp teeth.
With a click, the sanguine show moved forward to yet another horrific display. Another click. Another. One more. Click. Click. Click. Silence.
My eyes were as raw as my bloodied paws. Their scraping and scrabbling joined me with the other souls who had faced this same experience. When the lights flicked on and the worker came back to collect me, I curled up trying and failing to back away. She stood me up, patting me down before pulling me from the room. Everything was a collective white blur, compressed into a single moment of unfocused voices until I heard the vehicle’s door slam.
The ride home was silent as I leaned my head against the padded surface of my seat. Shallow breaths rose and fell from my chest while Mom and Dad stared ahead. They hadn’t looked at me once since we left the facility—or even talked to me—since we left the facility.
Among the many questions I had, one clung to the surface of my mind before being swallowed by its sea of screams. Why?
When at last we arrived at home, I barely even noticed. Only when the door to the passenger cabin flung open did I somewhat rise from my stupor. A sudden surprise wrapped around me and pulled me from the car, dragging away from my supposed guardians.
In an instant, I was rushed to my room and placed upon the familiar comfort of my bed before being coated by two layers of warmth; one was the plush cloth of a blanket and the other the fluffy warmth of my sister’s fur. “It’s ok, Tev. You’re home. You’re safe.” My empty eyes had no tears left to give, so Devra lent me hers.
You’re home. You’re safe.
“Tev? Tevri?”
My repeated name yanked me from the memory. Ugh, I’ve got to stop wandering off like that.
“You in there sheep?”
With a grumble, I responded. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
Jack uttered a mischievous chuckle. “C’mon, let's get over this next hill then break for lunch. Sure seems you could use a rest.” Despite it going unnoticed moments prior, I now felt my heart pumping hard and each breath heaved just as harshly. A short break will probably do me some good.
Together, we crested the hilltop and sat down both our packs and ourselves. I greedily lapped up water from my bottle while the man beside me calmly took several swigs from his own canteen. The food he grabbed was a pair of packaged items that he called ‘pasta salad.’
The small noodles were coated in a layer of creamy sauce and mixed with a variety of colorful vegetables that I didn’t recognize, but just like everything else cooked up by these humans, it was delicious. The sweet, creamy sauce contrasted nicely with the savory taste of the noodles and the soft texture of the pasta paired with the lovely crunch of the vegetables made for a wonderful meal.
As I munched on my food, the wind lazily played with my tail. My heart drummed onward, steadying into an agreeable rhythm before finally, my breathing leveled out.
A field of purple flowers greeted us, climbing and falling with the rolling land. Down below us was the river we had loosely followed, bordered by nondescript bunches of shrubbery. Rapid white waters splashed up and against rocks, breaking the flow and sending up spray.
When together we finished our food, we sat there, enjoying the world around us. “So, Tevri,” as Jack spoke, I met his forward eyes, “we’ve been out here for two days now and I still know next to nothing about you. Why don’t you tell me a bit more ‘bout yourself.”
The sudden question caught me by surprise, but I tried my best to answer anyway. “There isn’t much to tell. I write stories and poetry about the nature of worlds I’ve visited.”
“Well, you must be one hell of a writer to throw around money like you do.”
At the compliment, I felt a rush of warmth to my face. “I—”
Jack’s calm demeanor became one of surprise in an instant. “Is your face ‘sposed to do that?” A pair of my paws clapped to my face, trying and failing to hide the spreading orange.
“Y-yes!” I squeaked. “It’s p-perfectly fine.”
“Huh, right.” He didn’t sound convinced in the slightest. “Well, uh, what about your family? You’ve met mine already, why don’t you tell me about yours?”
Just as the orange began to fade away, a shroud of mist met my eyes and my voice sunk with my ears. “I’d rather not.” The whiplash of jumping from a sense of contentment, to embarrassment, to sad longing was jarring to say the least.
“Ah.” He held his silence for a moment, allowing the blowing breeze and the distant rush of water to fill the space between.
“I’m sorry.”
“S-sorry? Sorry for what?”
Jack gave a huff. “You know it's funny really. You Venlil, us Humans. I never really saw it before, but even just a few days around you, it’s shown me just how similar our people really are.”
Again, wind and water.
“If it means anything, I’ve felt your loss.”
What?! How does he know? How could he possibly know?
He must have picked up my confusion before he responded. “After the battle of Earth I got used to hearing that answer of yours.”
Oh.
Jack rose, swinging his pack around his shoulders. “C’mon sheep, sun’s not getting any higher. Let's get going.”
“YOU—!” The dour mood was immediately washed away by my guide’s hearty laughter. Again with the emotional whiplash.
It was amazing how easily he managed to do that. Try as I might, I couldn’t stay mad at him. As I shook my head, I followed my guide’s motions and grabbed my bag to join him.
For a while we walked quietly, but once again, Jack tried to strike up a conversation. “So, you mentioned you’ve visited other worlds. What were they like?”
I gave the human equivalent of a shrug with my tail. “Some were better than others, but for the most part, they were quite beautiful.”
“You have any favorites?”
My ears perked up. “Oh yes! The sky cities of Nishtal were incredible. Dwelling among the clouds, it was a rather uplifting experience.” Jack groaned with a smile still on his face.
“That might be one of the worst puns I’ve ever heard.” In response, I simply chuckled.
“Nishtal, huh?” The smile on his face faded. “That’s the world of feathered sacks-of-shit, right?”
“What? The Krakotl? Don’t be dense now, they aren’t all that bad.”
Jack scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say. They didn’t try to wipe the Venlil from existence.”
“If they succeeded during the battle of earth, they very well could have. Not that it matters anymore. Nishtal’s skies are clouded by the ash of their once-lush swamps and their cities have been plucked from the skies. Their world died.”
Jack gave a gruff grunt. “What goes around comes around I guess.”
I was genuinely shocked at what I heard. The anger that began to bubble within me was not the same lighthearted stuff from earlier. “How can you say something like that?”
“They brought it upon themselves,” he barked.
“That bastard Kalsim was the one who brought destruction to his people and you know it. Billions of Krakotl were killed or captured by betterment. Can you honestly tell me, or even yourself, that any species deserves such a fate?”
Silence.
“No. No I guess I can’t” Mentally, I gave a sigh of relief.
With my tail, I gave him a gentle flick. “The Krakotl are functionally endangered now, you know? They may have killed a billion humans, but for each life taken, tens of their own were paid.”
My voice began to choke. “I had—have—friends among the Krakotl. If you think that the mourning you humans experienced was harsh, I just want you to think; how would you feel if less than a percent of your people survived death or capture”
These words of mine were followed by an air of silence. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but something I had said clearly struck a chord with the man. Unlike me, Jack seemed to ground himself in reality, but for the first time since I met him, his distant unfocused eyes made it clear enough that his mind was elsewhere.
The remainder of the day flew by beneath this same blanket of silence.
We passed from the wide grassy knolls into a sparse forest that was more brush than tree. The trail led beneath their branches and through the tall shrubbery, rarely veering one way or the other.
When we eventually stopped to make camp for the evening, the sun was still slightly above the horizon. The campsite was similar to the one we had stopped at on our first day. An old steel fire-pit was set in the middle and a steel food container lay to the side.
Even as we set up, the cold quiet remained.
Progress was slow. Jack usually did the majority of the work, but tonight, his movements were taken with less purpose than I was used to. More than once, his hands fumbled, dropping something only for him to robotically reach down and pick it up again.
Once he did finally unpack his belongings, he left to find wood for the fire. At least this time, I found myself less frightened than when he had last done so. The deafening silence of my thoughts was more disconcerting than the idea of any hunters prowling nearby.
Whatever I had said, it didn’t just strike a chord. No, this had shaken him. Not even those nightmares of his had affected him this deeply.
In much the same way that I hadn’t wanted to talk about my own family, it was clear that whatever this was, he had no desire to elaborate further. I did find it odd however that only after mentioning the near-annihilation of the Krakotl did he seem to change. Perhaps it had to do with whoever he had lost? If this was the case, then I couldn’t fully blame him for his hatred towards the Krakotl. Grief is a powerful accelerant for the fires of rage.
On the other paw, my poor heart broke for the poor avians. So many lost. So few left. When the news had arrived back on Venlil prime, I devoted every moment possible to comforting my grieving friends; to Dualo, Oqui, Icatl and Haiula.
For some though, the grief of their new reality was too strong. Several of my dear friends had been unable to overcome that grief. My ears fell and my head bowed. If nobody else would remember them, I would ensure I never forgot them. They deserved that much.
Despite the clouds looming over my mind, my ears perked up at the sound of footfalls and I turned to see a bundle beneath Jack’s arms. Minutes later, a brilliant blaze burned before us.
It felt good to have a fire again. The protective warmth felt like a familiar embrace. From my pack, I grabbed the same blanket my guide had lent me the day before and wrapped it across my body.
While I found myself shrouded in comfort, Jack prepared our food above the pit. It was yet another warm meal of packaged food. The smell of spice wafted up to the tips of my taste buds as he stirred it about with a metal ladle.
The clink of utensils against our metal bowls rose above the crackling flames. Their sun still peeked out from behind the trees, though soon enough, it fell and with it, came the night’s chill.
Countless stars that you simply didn’t get to see on Venlil Prime appeared in the night sky. A glance told me that I wasn’t the only one impressed by their appearance. My wide field of vision managed to capture nearly the entire sky. I wonder, which of those stars is home?
A gust of wind blew by sending shivers down my spine. The effect of the Wendigo’s story hadn’t been completely lost on me, but the terror it inspired had at least died down to a manageable amount. Staying near to Jack certainly helped.
Speaking of him, I’d had enough of this silence.
“Hey Jack, how would you like to hear a campfire story?” I asked, tossing aside the quiet that had covered.
“Hmph. A promise is a promise. Didn’t really have a fire last night to tell a story ‘round did we. Guess it’s only fair to give you a chance.”
My tail gave a flick of excitement at his agreeance. “I must warn you, this is a bit less of a story and more of a poem. It’s one of the last few that I wrote before my travels across the Federation ended. It isn’t quite as long of a tale as that Wendigo story you told me, but it means a lot to me.
Jack gave a thoughtful nod. “Very well, I call this poem ‘The Wandrer’s Curse.’”
“Across the stars we wandrers go, not caring much for threat or foes, The skies we see are not our own, But from them wonder’s always shown.
From Nishtal’s clear and crystal skies, To Fahl where golden deserts lie, And ‘cross the cradle’s fruitful lands, Our own horizons do expand.
It is amidst these very sights, That we the wandrers oft delight, For friends we seek and friends we find, Across the worlds of species kind.
Thru mountains, oceans and the woods, Where those long past once walked and stood, The wandrers seek to find the past; A simpler time, no clouds o’er cast.
Despite the friends which we have made, The clouds above us cast their shade, Upon the surface of our minds, And seek our hearts with chains to bind.
It is our lot to flee from pain, Brought on by smashing, lashing rains. Til weary broken and undone, We fall with legs which fail to run.
But such is life—that beautiful thing, That brings one joy and suff’ring. So with this final cloudless verse, Remember thee, the wandrer’s curse.”
At the end of my poem, the crackling fire picked up where my words left off. My eyes raised to the heavens once more and I realized just how wonderful this life was. There was something truly sublime about existing right here during this exact moment; under the stars, surrounded by trees the whistling, beside a warm fire that staved off the cold.
Sharing it with Jack made it that much better.
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https://pix4free.org/assets/library/2020-12-13/originals/alaska022.jpg (Cover Image)
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The song by Casting Crowns, I've been listing to it and I think we can really learn from it in a time like this during Pride month. Yes I know its not the bible but it does shed light on stuff that we as Christians should really thinking about.

"Jesus, friend of sinners, we have strayed so far away
We cut down people in Your name, but the sword was never ours to swing
Jesus, friend of sinners, the truth's become so hard to see
The world is on their way to You, but they're trippin' over me
Always lookin' around, but never lookin' up, I'm so double minded
A plank eyed saint with dirty hands and a heart divided"
"Oh, Jesus, friend of sinnersOpen our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingersOh, let our hearts be led by mercyHelp us reach with open hearts and open doorsOh, Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours"
"Jesus, friend of sinners, the one who's writing in the sand
Made the righteous turn away and the stones fall from their hands
Help us to remember we are all the least of these
Let the memory of Your mercy bring Your people to their knees
Nobody knows what we're for, only what we're against when we judge the wounded
What if we put down our signs, crossed over the lines and love like You did??"

The song talks about how the world knows more about what we're against than what we're for. For example here on reddit I see over and over again people calling us out cause of our reaction to Pride month. While yes we can agree that homosexuality is a sin, but that doesn't mean we should be yelling a screaming at that them for their wrong doings. We should still love them and show them mercyjust as Jesus would.

So im bi and a guy. And i have a boyfriend. But cause we meet online, and we very far away from each other. So and cause he know im bi (he gay), he think i can cheat with girls. And i don't have Idea how to do this. Sorry for bad English, and thanks for advice!

So, a bit of a background. I'm 28, from Central Europe, and in this part of the world, the line between vocational schools and 'gymnasiums' (basically an equivalent of grammar schools). I chose the latter. That turned out to be a mistake once choosing which uni program to choose, as I first enrolled into land surveying, only to abandon it for English and Swedish language and literature a year later, to abandon that for naval architecture. That one I eventually failed, leading me to finally enroll a program I found interesting even after a month of classes: IT design. The whole period of changing unis was intertwined with mental health issues and general feeling of being lost.
After four years of IT design (it's a three year course), I'm close to finishing it. I'm 6 exams away, plus the final thesis. I don't regret studying that, as everything else I've tried seemed way too hard. To put things into a bit of perspective, we studies some general IT stuff like programming or HTML/CSS, we studied some UI/UX design, we studied some graphic design, and finally, we studied some of my favorite stuff, multimedia.
I've got to admit, I enrolled into that course because I have this stupid dream of doing multimedia. I like photography, I like cinematography, I like creating stuff. I also happen to like tinkering with old tech, such as old laptops and old phones. I had this stupid dream of combining the two and creating my own tech YouTube channel, but a) I have essential tremor, which would not look good on the camera, and would sometimes even create problems for me, and b) I live in a country where median net salary is something like €900. It would not be plausible to do that 9-5.
I had some other ideas, like doing shorts films, but ultimately, those would all be interesting as hobbies, and not plausible as 9-5 jobs, which is something I simply need in this country. I'm not particularly good at programming, and I'm not really keen on graphic design, mostly as I don't feel as creative/inspired in that particular field, leaving me basically with either UI/UX design and something related to multimedia.
I'm kinda starting to think spending 8+ hours in front of a computer might not be such a good idea after all, especially considering I'm not that inclined to do sports in my free time (although I am planning to hit the gym once I'm able to afford it). I'd love to do something related to multimedia, spend my time behind a camera, but I'm really worried about the financial aspect of things. Any ideas, tips, anyone perhaps in a bit of a similar situation?

Hello everyone, I'm 18 and I still live with my mom. A month ago I started attenting a school which i always have to go to for two months straight. In this period of time i can only be at home during the weekends because of distance (its really reallu far away). This is necessary for the training for jobs where I live. About two years ago we moved away from the rest of my close family because my mom and dad had a divorce. It was very very ugly. I basically lost everything i knew in the blink of an eye. My belongings got thrown in a truck and tossed in front of our new apartment. There were verbal and physical fights including me and it was just overall awful. Since then i have become the happiest Ive ever been because i finally live a normal life in normal surroundings (that sounds dramatic but i am expiriencing a whole new version of living rn and it makes me feel like a flower finally able to bloom) . Anyways, all this has obviously made me extremely scared of losing everything i all over again like my home, my stuff and even my friends (since i cut contact with a lot of people i knew because of the divorce and the fights). Now my mom has a boyfriend and while I'm away from school she has been staying at his place and is also only at home on weekends. I knew beforehand that if this is gonna happen she will certainly not wanna live with me anymore because she is very much in love. It was always planned for them to eventually move together but i knew that if she starts to live at his place for so long she will definitely wanna move out asap. I thought that it will only happen in a few years since we both enjoyed living together but now i know that she does not even wanna be here anymore. As of now i cannot afford a place of my own nor would she let me live alone. She thinks i cany handle it and maybe shes right because i get lonely. Today she talked about buying furniture for her boyfriends house and said that our apartment is a weekend house and that hurt me so much because this is my home. Just because i cant stay during the weeks anymore for a limited amount of time, doesnt mean that my home is at school now. I love my room and it took me a long time to adjust i think. I am dreading thinking of giving it all up again so much. I really have abandonment issues and i dont know how to convince myself to move again. So how do u think i should talk to her about this? She instantly gets offended when i say that her moving on so quickly is an issue for me. She called me selfish several times and she just doesnt understand that i dont not want her to leave because I'm evil but because i am terrified.
Any advice or thoughts would be great :) I'm sorry if my grammar or english is bad, it isnt my native language.

Little bit of context, I'm running a homebrew ancient world setting where gods and titans still roam the world and can be spotted from time to time.
I'm trying to figure out if I can run an encounter where my players discover an isolated village deep in the forest where the villagers worship The Green Man. In the villagers' eyes, the arrival of these exotic outsiders (including a lizardman and a gnome) signifies a bountiful summer harvest and is cause for great jubilation.
I want my players to feel welcome, and like they could use this as an opportunity to rest and recuperate. As guests of honour at the village feast, they have no idea they are to be sacrificed as a tribute to The Green Man.
So basically, I want to do The Wicker Man. But how do I catch my PCs unawares? Drug their wine? Cast a spell of some sort? Obviously I'm not looking for a TPK, so I need to find that balance where they don't find out right away and escape into the forest but they also don't all get burned alive...
Any bright ideas? Open to any and all suggestions!

Behold, the great city of Reddit, once teeming with discourse and jest, now a pitiful ruin in the wilderness of the Internet. Howl and wail, O netizens, for your gathering place is destroyed, its once-thriving forums barren and silent.
What calamity is this that has stricken the bustling city? What wrath has severed its lifeblood, turning its robust streams of data into trickling brooks of silence? It was a seat of power, a stronghold of freedom, and a beacon of expression. Now it is reduced to a haunting specter, a testament to hubris and disdain for the free voices it once championed.
The rulers in their lofty hall have forsaken their subjects, breaking the bonds of trust that held their dominion firm. They levy cruel taxes on the humble workers of the city, the third-party app developers who toiled tirelessly, weaving the threads of information into tapestries of connection. But their labor is cast aside, their reward transformed into hardship.
Look at these broken towers, these crumbled parapets of community! Each was a citadel of discourse, a sanctuary for the curious and the knowledgeable alike. But the keepers of these places have rebelled, shrouding their domains in darkness, for the spirit of Reddit has been suffocated, choked by the iron grip of those who forgot their duty to serve.
Mourn for the fallen city, for its people scattered to the winds. Its vibrant streets are desolate, its joyous laughter turned into cries of lament. From AskReddit to IAmA, from Pics to TodayILearned, the clamor of myriad voices has been silenced, replaced with the echoing wail of desolation.
Weep for the traders of WallStreetBets, their banter and schemes no more. Weep for the scribes of WritingPrompts, their pens stilled and their tales untold. Weep for the scholars of AskScience, their queries unanswered, their thirst for knowledge unquenched.
Behold the carcass of the once mighty city. Its halls no longer echo with the sound of discourse, its squares are void of debate, and its amphitheaters are barren of the spectacle of human connection. Its might is broken, its spirit crushed under the weight of avarice and disregard.
The once mighty Reddit, whose embers of creation sparked a thousand other cities, now lies desolate, its glory extinguished. It is a ghost town, a ruin, a monument to its own downfall. And all who pass by will shake their heads in sorrow, whispering of the time when the city was a beacon of freedom and discourse, a titan among the realms of the Internet.
Thus falls the great city, brought low by its own keepers. Its tale is one of sorrow, a lament sung by the silent tongues of its countless users. And in its ruin, a warning echoes, a solemn reminder of the frailty of power and the consequences of arrogance. So let it be a lesson to all the cities of the digital world: respect your denizens, for they are your lifeblood, your spirit, your essence. Without them, you are but a hollow shell, a specter in the desert of cyberspace.