I have ruined my life, I do not know what to do anymore. I did not enjoy my course, however I stuck it out due to wanting to be the 1st in my family to graduate and make everyone proud. My course was graphic design, for the years doing it I have now hated the design industry, the selfish people, the nepotism, classism and I have had all creative ideas sucked out of me dry. I was once happy, now I have also been suffering from anxiety and depression into the years on my course and I have started SH for the first time in my life, constant panic attacks when reading a email from university or related to university. I got to around a few weeks before the end of the course where I tried to take my own life, this is where I have had to accept that I will not be graduating and I need to do something else as this will kill me. I feel so selfish as I have a loving family who did not pressure me to go to uni, but I feel I let them down. I was so lonely on my university course, I had no friends and I do think that played a part into my situation. My family want me to be safe and healthy, but I can’t help but feel like I wasted my life as I will have so much uni debt to a degree I didn’t graduate from, and one I don’t want to graduate from. I want to go into a completely different field, I want to do a career where I help people; I want to work in a hospital or a funeral home as I can help people when they’re struggling, but I don’t know how I can go about this. I wanted to get this off my chest as it’s killing me and I feel so sore.

10 years ago, I was severely beaten and choked until I was unconscious by my boyfriend. When I gained consciousness, I made it to the hospital and learned he had broken two of my fingers. I was devastated. I thought about suicide. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I felt sorry for him.
I kept saying, I must have done something horrible for him to beat me. In reality, I just told him, I wanted to break up.
While I was in the hospital, several detectives came back to discuss pressing charges. I pressed charges and he was arrested immediately. His family reached out to me and asked for me to drop the charges. They were so kind and loving.
I came to court and told the judge, I wanted to drop the charge. She initially refused saying- he choked me until I passed out and he only stopped because he thought I was dead. I still dropped the charges. Immediately afterwards, his family called me a slut who had ruined his life.
My family didn’t support me. They said I should just forget it. I couldn’t just forget. After my cast was off, I had to go to physical therapy to learn to use my hand and write again. I tried to block the incident and the person out of my mind. I moved to another state. I was fine or I thought.
Several weeks ago, my father died and I returned to my home state. I am outside of the funeral home and the person walks over to me. He says, “ I am here, if you need me.” I have never been so scared in my life. When my family goes to the repast, he is there. He is constantly talking and walking near me. I am so afraid that I can’t talk.
Last week, I saw him at a party. I could feel him watching me but I figured because there were so many people that he wouldn’t talk to me again. When he is super drunk, he comes over to me and says, “ the reason why we got into it was you would never listen, 10 years ago. We need to talk.”
I leave with him. I honestly thought maybe he would apologize or express remorse. I always fantasized that he would give some grand apology and grand gesture of love and I could forgive him.
He tells me I am a slut who made up lies that ruined his life. He says he never hurt me or broke my fingers or choked me. When I tried to say something, he said “ shut up” and I did. He says, “ tell me what I did to you” but I couldn’t say anything.
I hated myself for what I said next - I wish we could be friends. I wish you could forgive me.
He says, “ I have to tell everyone I lied about him attacking me. He says I have to write a letter saying he never did anything to me. I said no. He says, “ I have given women black eyes but I never blacked your eye. I didn’t hurt you and you know it.”
Now, a week later, I am struggling. I know he did abuse me but I don’t know. I think I am crazy. I am starting to question what happened to me. I know my fingers were broken. I am losing my grip on the reality of what happened to me.
I went to Domestic Violence court to read my case file. The file was gone because he was able to get it expunged years ago. I don’t know what to do. I thought I had forgiven him but I hate him. I hate he was able to get the case file deleted. I hate he is now a rich, powerful, successful person while I am stuck with a crippled hand.

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So for those who have been asking about my f35 here's an update on how it's going. For those looking for some reading material before bed I got you covered as well.
Things I've changed: - weapon panel. It went from barely functional to completely inoperative. Currently working on auto sorting/switching weapons panel to replace the old manual one.
-control system. I added extra keybinds for important things (autopilot, gear, flight mode, launch) and added controller support so it now supports hotas systems! Only downside is that when I looked at it again after having not touched it in a day or two, there is an uncontrollable oscillation above 200knots. The current 'fix' is turning down the leading edge flaps but that messes with trim which messes with autopilot which messes with everything. Safe to say this system is worse off than it was a few days ago, but it's on a better path so eventually it'll get good. I might end up fitting a hotas seat into the plane just for the extra keybinds and axis. This plane is already a dream to fly (when working properly) so being able to keep your hands on the controls would be great! Only downside is that I need to relocate 1 panel in the cockpit and I haven't decided where to put it. So for now, the old seat stays.
-core systems. I am trying desperately to simplify the computational load of the f35 without sacrificing features. I taught myself tables today and they will definitely come into play as a go forward with this project. Today alone I removed 16 lua blocks from the weapon system. I went from every pylon doing its own math to one central brain in a different MC that just pumps out what pylon to drop and when. Progress is decent in the optimization department!
-attitude. Don't get me wrong, this is still the single most complex system I've ever built in stormworks. Half the systems haven't been started, and the other half are barely functional. I've already put over 200 hours into the project over the past few months and it often feels like 2 steps forward 1 step back, but right now I feel more motivated to work on it than I did when I first saw those bays open. So even if this project is formed to fail, it will not be going down anytime soon.
-canopy. The all important canopy. The aesthetics did not change but the brain did. For reference on how much power I'm putting into this computer, the canopy talks to the main systems on board. For 99% of applications the canopy will do exactly what you want it to without your input being required. The other 1%? It's being worked on. That's kinda the goal of this whole plane. I want to do as little as possible as a stormworks pilot but man I really hate it when a computer does something you didn't want it to do. That just gives yall a good reference as to what my thought process is here.
OK as much as I love talking about my FCS dying, autopilot crying, weapon system reviving, and canopy vibing, I think it's time we talk game plan. There were a lot of people mentioning how they just couldn't wait for this thing to go up on the workshop. So for those of you dying from anticipation, I expect a funeral invite. This project has taken a long time, and there isn't a single aspect of the plane that I am even close to happy with yet. As much as I would love to put this plane on the workshop right now, I just can't. It NEEDS to be perfect. Saying "a long time" and "perfect" doesn't allow for reasonable time estimates, instead, I'll just list off some of the main goals of the plane (subject to change of course) and yall can make your estimates on how long these will take me to implement. Remember, half the fun is learning how to do it, so every system will be home grown for this plane. Also I know these are basically unattainable, but either I make it happen or this plane never gets seen on the workshop so let's hope for a miracle shall we :P.
Flight control system goals: - full controllekeyboard support with selectable control types based on controller needs (sticky throttle vs centering throttle for example)

• full INS based flight control system. Ability to auto trim every axis without feeling too snappy or unpredictable. If drift exists, it should be from your flightstick, not the plane.
  
• complete flight modes. Ex: dogfight mode with increased control responsiveness, landing mode with autoleveling, descent rate control, and auto flaring.
  
• perfect in all weather conditions. If I feel the need to look at the wind setting, somethings gone horribly wrong. The wind doesn't move mountains, so why should it move my plane?
  

-capable. If I ask to roll at 360°/s. It must roll at 360°/s and it must do it with a "yes sir, anything else?" Attitude
Auto Pilot System Goals: - full GCAS system. If my autopilot hits the ocean, my plane better be on fire.
-the classic gps stuff dialed to 11. Alt hold that works perfectly at every speed, autoheading that tracks a line on the floor, and a system that both levels roll and compensates for it. If I decide that my plane flies better on its side, the autopilot should agree.
-auto formation. Two reasons: 1, once I install everything else, this will be easy, and two, because a screenshot with 4 f35s in diamond formation would be epic.
-auto takeoff and landing. I'm not sure if this was shown yet, but my map display has every static airport in game coded into it. My dream is to be at one airport, click on another, and watch my plane do everything without me. Future plans to add carrier landings as well.
MFD goals. - map display. Full pan, zoom, and follow features (duh) as well as information overlays(weapon and navigation). Picture things like points of interest, laser designator(s?), IFF locations, and of course, airports.

• navigation display. Essentially the better way to talk to your autopilot. Tell it things like remain level, stay at 1000 meters, land here. Basically anything that doesn't fit with a keybind or on the map display. One notable goal is that both panels could be up side by side allowing you to input way points, and visualize flight plans a lot easier.

-FCS display. Plane info. Easy as that. Fuel, battery, AOA, control positions, flight modes. Nice and simple.
-weapon display. My biggest planned compromise... I have 2 options here; I could build a fully proprietary standard and use home brewed weapons with amazing integration, or use a standardized approach ensuring compatibility. I chose the latter. I'm not the best at anything , and certainly not with weapons. I decides I'll leave that up to the community. That doesn't mean the weapon Page will be bad though. It's still going to auto group weapons by type, offer different firing modes, a wide suite of guidance types, and of course, a quality sequencer. This is what I worked on today and even though I still haven't started most of the features, the polish on the parts I have finished is definitely good enough for me.
-EW display. [REDACTED]. Jk of course. I'm not that multiplayer type so I don't really care if people take my EW systems. To be clear, there is 0% chance the public release is going to be fully featured, but it certainly wont need an ew pod. Planned features include radio sweeping/jamming, radio tracking, multi-standard IFF, datalink, frequency hopping, and depending on how ambitious I'm feeling, maybe some code breaking as well. Again, I'm not that multiplayer type, so I'll probably never see the benefit from these systems. But to have such a nice plane be spoiled by a radio guided missile would be a crime. Side note, currently there are exactly 0 antenna in the build, but I'm sure I'll find space somewhere...
Conclusion. Would you look at that! A list of goals so ambitious there's no chance he'll accomplish any of it! Yeah, probably. Nice to dream I guess. Anyway, here's the fun part: I'm easy to persuade, and I am shooting for every bell and whistle I can think of. That means if one of yall give me a sales pitch for a feature I should add, it will most likely end up on the list. Also if yall have standards or references you think I should take a look at, I will gladly do so.

Honestly where do I even begin with the whole world of dating and relationships? I have a hard time putting myself out there because I've been hurt and taken advantage of so much by women that it's hard to put my trust and let my guard down
I've been single for seven long years, part of that is my own fault and the other is just no one wanting to put up with me whatsoever honestly it's tiresome
I've got low grade depression, social anxiety, I don't drive, currently live at home, looking for work in a place where everyone is hiring but no one bothers to.
I've been cheated on, abused emotionally, verbally and mentally. Humiliated by their friends at a party, lied to, dumped on a family members funeral after they told me they cheated on me several times, used me for money to pay for things they needed.
I'm honest, easy to talk to, deeply understanding, sweetheart, genuine, respectful, sarcastically witty with a smartass sense of humor, enthusiastic about cuddling, can write a sweet letter expressing my feelings about the individual that I'm dating, buyer of flowers, and honestly just someone who flawed but doesn't go cheating or abusive of any kind.
For some reason as a gamer, horror movie fan and geek people see this whole aspect and just don't bother.
It's hard to explain to people that yeah I've been single for seven years, friend zoned 99% of the time, never complimented or spoken to as much.
Just feel like I'm genuinely not meant to date at all.

I don’t know why I imagine the Westerosi with American accents. However, I do. I decided to really look at how Westeros is, and try to imagine what accents (or Westerosi equivalent to the real-world accent) one would find if they were in Westeros.
Tell me what you guys think?
By region:

North: Southern Accents, oddly enough (rural, more agrarian/hunting/fishing culture, more conservative than rest of the country)

White Harbor: New Orleans accent. Manderly and other nobles talk like the fancy “Neeeeee-ooo Owlahns” rich people, commoners talk more like regular New Orleans people (big city with a distinct culture from area around it)
Last Hearth/Wall area: Redneck parts of Louisiana, generally the area around the border w/ Mississippi but north of NOLA. “Badduhn Rudge” kind of accents (mine sort of tbh but I have a weird accent)
Neck: Stereotypical Cajun accent
Between Neck and Winterfell: Texas drawl probably because it’s not in the neck so it wouldn’t have the Cajun barely-English sense but it also wouldn’t be close enough to other places and Northerners remind me of Texans except somewhat more tolerable (sorry Texas, I still love you)
Beyond the Wall: Alabaman, because wildlings are primitive, illiterate, and probably inbred. Also fuck Alabama.
Winterfell Area: Transatlantic Accent. Think the way actors in old-timey movies talk. Most of the highest-ranking noble families talk that way, because many are fostered/squires/held hostage in regions that they are not originally from, and they are almost universally educated by maesters. Their household may or may not sound more like the local accent or the transatlantic. I think Winterfell would have more commoners/lower-ranking nobles speaking in a transatlantic accent though, because they would interact with people who spoke like that more than other accents. I could be wrong, though.
Bear Island: Georgia? We haven’t heard much from the places east of the Mississippi, so I might go with that.
Skagos: mysterious, cannibalistic, primitive tribesmen. Alabama.
Mountain Tribes: Imma go with Mississippi/Georgia/Carolinas, depending on the tribe. Mainly because we haven’t heard much from those areas.

Vale

Mostly Appalachian, because of all the mountains. The parallels are obvious, I think. I would go into more detail but we don’t spend much time in the Vale, but I’ll do my best.
However, the Vale would have a lot of unique accents.
Gulltown wouldn’t have a particularly distinct accent. It’s a trade port, so you have people from all over the place moving/settling/trading.
The part of the fingers ruled by House Baelish: https://youtu.be/AIZgw09CG9E. I like this, because House Baelish are Essosi. That accent in the video has some to certain British accents and American ones. House Baelish originated in Essos and would have been a much larger fraction of the area’s population than other noble Houses, meaning they would have a much greater impact on the local accent after three generations.
Eyrie: Transatlantic, see Winterfell.

Riverlands

Missouri. I don’t think Missourians have a strong accent, especially in the St. Louis area. The Riverlands, being centrally located in Westeros, would have influence from everywhere and I think would kind of talk in a normal American accent, which I kind of place as Missouri/Kansas. No twang, no real markers of anything. That said, the general American accent is still an accent.
Once again, House Tully and other big houses would speak with a Transatlantic accent. I can also imagine noblemen and smallfolk who interact with noblemen frequently switch accents based on who they’re with. That’s a thing in real life. So if some servant who spent her whole life working for the Tullys was speaking with Edmure, she would most likely speak in a transatlantic accent. But when she went home and was talking to her family and friends, back to her Missouri accent.
The Freys, I think, would have the most pronounced Transatlantic accent of any group in the Riverlands. They are the most likely to compensate for being “new money” by adopting the trappings of the Westerosi Great Houses. They would subconsciously be biased toward the rich, important accent that Westerosi great lords would use.

Iron Islands

They suck, and so does Alabama. Alabama accent. But like, some really really strong Alabama accent. And they would subconsciously make it stronger, even the Greyjoys would reject the Transatlantic.

Reach

In more Rural places, they would have Wisconsin/Minnesota accents. Sort of similar to the Canadian accent, but still mostly American. More isolated communities would have the full-on “Mih-neh-sooooooht-da” sound.
Oldtown: Boston. Coastal city, with a major center of learning. Harvard/Citadel, I like it.
Highgarden: Headcanon that the transatlantic thing started in the Reach, with the Hightowers first and then the Tyrells picking it up. Not deliberately, but subconsciously.

Stormlands

No clue. I’ve only read up to ASOS, and we haven’t spent much time there iirc. Baratheons probably don’t talk transatlantic. Maybe kind of Northeastern? Cause Kings Landing I picture talking like New Yorkers, and the Stormlands are close to to that area. So I guess whatever people from New York but not New York City sound like. Maybe New Jersey a little? Idk if I can imagine Stannis the Mannis sounding like a guy from New Jersey.

Dorne

Sandy Dornishmen: New Mexico, Utah, desert kind of places. I know a few people from there, they don’t have any particularly strong accent.
Salty Dornishmen: California, bro. Not Valley Girl, though. Very coastal people, and also tend to be more progressive, and they make a lot of wine. A lot of non-Dornish people have stereotypes, but the Dornishmen we meet are pretty chill actually. Same with Cali, in my experience. Not an exact replica of Cali, but fuck it.
Stony Dornishmen: Honestly whatever people who live in the Rockies sound like.
House Dayne: House Dayne is special as shit, because they are a weird, unique House in Westeros. To make them more special, I’m giving them an Alaskan accent.
Note about Dorne: They do not follow the trend of Westerosi nobles having a Transatlantic accent. The Dornish nobility sound like House Martell, being Stony Dornishmen and therefore sounding like stereotypical Californians.
Note about Transatlantic accent: In real life, it didn’t catch on with most people if I remember. It was an attempt by the American media and government to get all Americans to speak similarly. I kind of head-cabin that some Targaryen had the idea as he was going mad, and the scared-shitless Grand Maester decided to make it happen.
What do you guys think?

A couple months ago I had posted that my BF of 4 years admitted that he cheated on me because he got the girl pregnant and waited 2 weeks post delivery to tell me. He said he was going to try everything in his power to make this relationship work, pay for couple therapy, we had a Vegas trip we had planned for a year now so I decided to give him a second chance.
A majority of responses told me to leave and I should’ve at that moment. The last few months have been absolute torture. No couples therapy, never told me when he would go see his BM, didn’t give me any thing for my birthday (my birthday fell on Mother’s Day this year) and hardly touched or kissed me on the Vegas/birthday trip. He proved to me he wasn’t worth going through all this pain, he just sat there as I cried and explained how I was drowning in my own emotions. “Get over it, it’s been a couple months already”, “I’m getting so much shit for being on this Vegas trip when I have a baby at home. How can you say I don’t care for you if I’m here”, “I said you look fine and your clothes look good, why are you upset? I never called you ugly” some of the gaslighting words he used on the trip. How can people be so stupid. I was so delusional by someone who I thought loved me but showed he is only after himself.
Well all I can say is Karma is getting his ass. $1000 in child support a month, his car was just confirmed totaled after he got crashed into,he sleeps on the floor of his little brother’s apartment, and the same waiting job he’s had for the past 6 years hasn’t been paying him too good lately . Oh and turns out his BM has postpartum and has been bitching at him on the daily.
To think I was about to pull out a Mortgage loan and move in with a lying, cheating, gas lighting mf. Actions speak louder than words and the wrong actions mixed in with lack accountability opened this girls eyes. I waited for weeks/months at a time while this man was going back and forth to Louisiana and Texas, only getting maybe a text or two here and there due to him working out in the ocean. And he had the time to go hang out with a “friend” he hasn’t seen in years for drinks and gets too “Fucked up” so he needs to spend the night . But prior to that you go with her to buy a condom and you get it up, put the condom on yourself, fuck her, and the next morning you realize that you had sex with that friend who turns out to be someone you use to fuck.
“I swear this happened because I was too fucked up, I didn’t realize what was going on. We didn’t expect anything to happen.”So you hang out with an old fuck buddy and don’t think y’all going to fuck? Get the fuck out of here , I found out the details in Vegas. People can be so disgusting. The year I finally decided to introduce him to my family and he was keeping a pregnancy a secret. I should have just listened to y’all and have left the moment I found out he cheated and he had a baby!

Good Night, and well met kindred
I am a returning WOD Storyteller, getting started with v5. I have been DM/ST since 1999 for multiple systems Including WOD 1 and 2.
The Story sets its place in the suburbs in between Madison, Milwaukee and Chicago. Your group will be tasked with expanding Kindred into Madison in the post pandemic era. Madison is booming and growing rapidly. Govenor Scott Walker's tax policies lured several tech giants to this College town. Traditionally shifters and shamans have made thier home in Wisconsin. Chicago and Milwaukee are a melting pot of European clans, And recently the ancient, Odin was forced into retreat as the Anarchs cast him down from his Ivory Tower. House Carta was the Primogen of Milwaukee, until she broke off and has become an Anarch sympathizer.
Odin and his Gangrels had intermingled in native tribes since the days of Leif Ericson.
In session -1 we can talk about the flavor of the expansion. Perhaps with the nomadic Nature of the Hells Angles who's Harleys are made in a factory here, your group is a biker gang. Or a Coterie looking for a business expansion! The Cams have been forced to retreat from Chicago and Are losing ground in Milwaukee. Madison is just a short drive away.
​
The great Lakes and the Mississippi River are host to dozens of tribes of Natives. Near-by House on the Rock was featured in Neil Gaimons American Gods. Gary Gaigax and his family are from the Madison Metro, and there is a Playboy Mansion on Lake Geneva. Immigration up and down the Mississippi River is ancient. From the Acadians settling Louisiana from nearby Ontario, to Vikings who longshipped to the Duluth shores. Piracy and Huck-finn, Little house on the Prairie and Laura Ingalls Wilder. Religious cults and a history of serial killers enough for an album called Wisconsin Death Trip
Come Kindred, this town is ready, and ripe for those who've the call to take it!
VikingDadStream#6828

F-ing Hell. I just need to get this out my system via writing. Newly widow at füçking 29 yo... N2/IH since 2022 - but started way back before. Now I take Vyvanse in the morning (20mg) plus at noon (10mg) AND Xanax (0.25mg) with Zopiclone (7.5mg) at bedtime.
Today I had the wonderful idea to take one of my extra 10mg of vyvanse (total of 40mg for the day) at noon to tackle Norm's life insurance claim via customer service (dreadful).Well I really needed it because after that phone call I was helping my mother in law and being her shoulder to cry on.
After that I had so much energy that I felt like the roadrunner, going here and there and back to here again because I forgot the spare keys I just bought on the store's counter. I also forgot to eat until 7pm. Yay Vyvanse (said sarcastically).
So now it's pass midnight. I took my new fav combo of xanax and zopiclone at 10h30. Usually it would have kicked in, making me relaxed and sleepy in 20 mins. But not tonight. I'm tired but physically not sleepy. I think it's the extra 10 mg, the residual stress from the life claim and being conscious that Xanax wasn't my Sleep doctor preferred choice of medication for me. It was my GP's choice, and they didn't even bother hear my concerns in regards to xanax-vyvanse interactions... Thankfully my Sleep doctor gave me a second opinion. In my situation, I can take Xanax for the first month and after that look for a more appropriate medication for my anxiety while maintaining my energy for the legal work (2-3 months of paperwork infront on me..)
I have 10 extra 10mg of Vyvanse per month in case I need to drive or work late ~ doctor approved prior to my hellish new life ~. I won't be taking an extra dose again! I might have to cut out the 10 mg at noon to see if my sleep is better. I barely move now, just a blob of grief on the couch. I can only tackle one task a date without my second vyvanse, but it might be the only trade off I can do to feel the xanax and Zopiclone and sleep. Heck, what's the point of rushing it, Norm's dead and nothing can help with that.
. . .
I love you soo much Norm. I'm holding on because I know you wouldn't want your parents to deal with the bureaucracy of it all, funeral home, lawyer, banks, life insurance claim. I'll get it all done and I'll make the necessary funeral arrangements for your parents and for my own too.
. . .
If you made it to here, please get a will. Even a holographic one at the least. Norm and I didn't even think of that at 29.... And thank god I have my in-laws behind me.

I got a questions for those who are only child and can relate and give me advice.
I lost my mom 3 days ago and she was all the family I had I'm 25 going on to 26 in June and while we have many family friends and my girl and my best friend were their for me I still feel alone. My father and me hate each other and he hates her didn't show up to the funeral.
My question is did I do good. My mom died at a party she was a very sickly lady and I always told her to chill and relax and to take care but she always loved to party even at 64. She drank some vodica and took some zans and didn't wake up. I got the valley at 3am on Saturday and we warped everything up by Tuesday.
Me and my mom were dirt poor in and out of friends homes some times hitting a good streak and living in apt. But once I moved away to find a better job to help her she decided to live with the closet friends we had that were family.
I was always busy so I didn't see her much and she would always call me. But I worked over time saving up a little dime to give her a life she deserved. The last time we spoke it was 3 hours before she died. The last thing she told me was that she loved me very much and couldn't wait to see me next week and I told her the same.
But I feel nothing but regret and hatred and shame for myself cause I couldn't do more she died poor. And I gave her money as much as I could range every month between 200$ to 3k for 4 years but I was alone doing this by myself.
What I think I'm asking for was did I do good was she proud of me, everyone says she alway talked about me since I out classed all the other kids I am the most successful having my own business and was planning to buy a house soon to bring her with me etc. But why do I feel like I failed I always wished for a older sibling to help me but my parent silpt after I was born.
I have a older sister from my dad side who loves my mom as much as me but she lives in Cuba and didn't have papers.

I (21FTM) went to school right out of HS to be a funeral director, went through the whole rigamarole and nobody will give me or any other new directors apparently a chance. I was fired after two months for no reason (legal in my state). Too much at stake, no room for mistakes. Hated it.
Worked at Menards for like six months and found a better opportunity at Lowe's. Liked it. But I think I bit off more than I could chew for my first job outside university.
Worked at Lowe's for a few months before I found a university study relevant opportunity at a funeral home. Liked Lowe's.
Left that one after 6 months because the guy that owned the place was ...lots of expletives and made me feel unsafe.
Got an internship at a FH elsewhere, loved that job and made lots of friends but I was essentially just the guy in the back and the company didn't want to hire me on as a director. Opportunity ended.
Got my funeral director gig. Moved for it and everything. Immediately fired for no reason
Working door to door sales at spectrum. Hate it. I feel incredibly unsafe. See: my post on spectrum.
Any suggestions for jobs I might actually like based on this information? I've had more unpleasant experiences than pleasant so it's hard to judge.

I haven't left my house in a week because my OCD episode has been so so bad. I wasn't eating for DAYS and was bed bound, I literally wasn't even using the bathroom because I couldn't get myself to stand up.
Today I had to attend a viewing for a family friend who tragically passed away. I do not, DO NOT, do well with viewings or death in general. My OCD gets kicked up to 100% when I have to go to the cemetery, or hospital, or a funeral - anything to do with death.
I was nervous to even get out of bed today, but I ate breakfast, I showered and got dressed, drove an hour away from my home (my safe space) to get to the viewing, and was able to pay my respects and spend time with family all without being consumed by intrusive thoughts and crippling peril. I did it!
Now that's not to say that I'm not a bit anxious now (why didn't you panic, are you lacking empathy? Are you a sociopath? Did your brain just finally snap and now you aren't able to feel ANY emotions?) but I'm not panicking and I'm not consumed by the thoughts. I'm very proud of myself and I hope I can continue on this path of healing.

My husband and I are looking to purchase in the denham springs area. Unfortunately with the price point and floor plans that we like ($220s-$240s with an open floor plan), we keep coming back to the DSLD and DR Horton communities. I’ve heard horrible things about the quality of these homes and how they aren’t built for Louisiana humidity, hurricanes etc. So of course, I’m super nervous about going with one of these builders.
Does anyone have experience with these homes they can share?

We had a last minute booking from our repeat client for almost 3 weeks. She said they just discovered her dad got diagnosed with late stage cancer and it’s spreading fast. Owner said they might extend the trip, in case the worst case scenario happens where she has to plan his funeral.
Obviously this is not a happy occasion and we can tell she’s really heartbroken going back home this time. The question is… how often should we update the owner with photos and videos? This is day 5 in the trip and she hasn’t responded to any of our updates (she’s usually very responsive). We usually include a “happy caption” with the photos, but it feels inappropriate this time ☹️
Just wanted to be mindful but also assuring them their baby is doing fine!

Please let me know what you think about this backstory! I think it’s ridiculous but awesome. Wrote it for a character I’m starting this Friday, but wrote it up on a whim about twenty minutes ago and need some opinions. Thanks!!!
Bertram WAS your friendly neighborhood cleric; peace cleric to be exact. He liked long walks by the river, the latest in fashion and style, helping those in need, healing the sick and those too poor to seek or afford help by their own coin, and he still enjoys those things more than anything else…
However, Bertram is dead. Or he’s sort of dead. But alive! It all happened on his fortieth birthday when he was visiting the local shrine to Eldath, his favorite peace deity and magically bonded superfriend. After stopping in to give a small yearly tribute and say a few nice words, a bit of a windstorm had gotten to a blustery start outdoors and as he stepped from the threshold of the cathedral, one of the capstones, left unchecked and intended for generations, fell from the top of the spire right onto Betram’s holy head.
Thus ended his bromance with Eldath and started his love-hate relationship of necessity with Kelemvor. Upon waking, Bertram found himself at the edge of the gates of the underworld realms to be judged and weighed. Kelemvor himself greeted him as he was interested to see the to the judgement of fate of a cleric so devoted and began the process of weighing Bertram’s soul. Unfortunately, right as they were getting to the best parts, an agent from the Celestial Department of Weights and Measures descended to inform Kelemvor that the Scales of Justice of the afterlife had not been calibrated in several centuries!
Being an ever cautious and lawful deity, Kelemvor could not in good conscious allow Bertram to be weighed and enter any ethereal plane. Having immense wisdom even for a previously living human, Kelemvor spoke with Bertram for hours; telling him of his own life and how he ascended to become a deity of death and his own views of justice and right and wrong. What was only a few hours in the gateway to the underworld translated to days back on the surface, and Betram’s body was prepped for funeral. The skilled and knowledgeable clerics of the Peace Domain were able to reconstruct his skull and his head to look almost as he was when he was living, but could not prevent the natural process of decay, and was frowned upon as this would be against the natural cycle of life and death, renewal and decay.
Bertram began to understand and see the world from Kelemvor’s point of view during their talk, and no longer living, was no longer bound to Eldath. Understanding that Kelemvor was benevolent but served a very real and lawful purpose, and he accepted him as his new god and they forged a bond that lasts to this day. Performing a rite that only Simone as powerful as a godlike deity could, Kelemvor restored Bertram’s soul to his physical body as he lay on the funeral pyre readied for ceremony. Resurrected as something akin to a Hollow One, Bertram stood up and shouted “Hey Everybody!”.
Despite being surrounded by seasoned clerics who have seen disease, injury, battle, and worse, this was so shocking to all present that several turned in terror while others readied themselves instantly for a fight with the undead, in this instance being Bertram himself. As several of the more war-worn clerics were about to loose a barrage of spells, Bertram cried “Guys! It’s just me! Can’t we just get al……” and as he tried to finish speaking Kelemvor projected himself into the visions of everyone present, along with their god Eldath.
Explaining the entire story and that this was indeed the long walk loving, simple Bertram they had always known. However, the semi-decayed appearance of Bertram’s new form and it’s association with the corruption of the undead has been engrained in the minds of clerics for millennium, and despite not being hostile, Bertram’s previous friends and colleagues simple could not reconcile this new development with their years of experience. Days passed where Bertram tried to return to his community, but his fellow clerics and the village simply could no longer accept him. The sideways glances, parents clutching their children, people turning around or taking other paths as soon as they saw him just rapidly increased, and Bertram would go to his small home and be sad. So so sad.
During this time he found that his body would no longer decay, but he would no longer decay. He was essentially frozen in time at forty years old. He was alive, but dead….maybe? What would happen if he were killed….again. This is when he decided that he would just pour himself completely into healing and helping those in need no matter what the cost, and he would do it while travelling. He would journey far and wide, finding those that needed him; those who weren’t afraid of what he was or that he looked like a zombie. But after seeing all the souls of the dead waiting for judgement in the afterlife he had leaned to find violence even more abhorrent and vowed that he would only use physical or magical means of in the most desperate of situations.
And so Bertram set off on the road. Feet on the ground and fresh flowers tucked in all over his traveling clothes and armor, all in the hopes of finding other in need of help, dude!

Hey guys, I leave for BMT June 13, and my husband is active duty military. We do not have any dependents. I am wondering if it will still be possible for me to get BAH. He is now currently stationed at Luke Air Force Base, where he is paying rent at an apartment, but I do still own a home, that I am paying mortgage for, at our last base in Louisiana. Will we be able to still get the dual BAH?

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[REQ] (£200/£250) (#DURHAM, ENGLAND, UK) (REPAY £250/£300 - 24TH FEB) (PAYPAL)

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I'm looking to borrow £250, to get a flight home.
We had a family death whilst on vacation, and I flew out to help arrange things.
I secured a £150 loan from a borrow user for living expenses whilst here and fees and am now in desperate need of a flight to get home. My mother has gone back to arrange the funeral and I am now in need of a way home.
The flight is £196 and the additional £54 will get me transport home from the airport inthe UK.
Happy to provide payslips, ID or other requirements.
Thank you.

Hi Leon and Sasha,
I miss you guys so much. I hope that you are safe in Moscow. I think of you often. I hope that you and your mom (grandparents and Irina/Phil) are okay.
I hope you mom reads this to you. I hope that it helps you go to sleep. I will write more and post it for you to read.
Astral or Star Jelly is a real event/substance that has been found in all areas of the earth (please Wikipedia it). My friend performed a DNA analysis on a sample of Star Jelly, and the results were amazing. His group concluded that the sample mostly had mitochondrial-like DNA, but it was very different from anything reported (much longer and having possible different base pairs).
Astral/Star Jelly is often found after meteorite showers or other astral events. I found some when I was young (heavy Northern Lights and Meteor Shower event). I crafted the first chapter of a potential novel. Please give feedback. I am switching to google docs, so soon I will have links to my works.
Yes, Charlotte edited the chapter. She kept saying to keep it simple and direct. We hope to see you in Turkey this summer.
​
Chapter 1
The Byproduct of Gods
with revisions by your favorite daughter
📷
Her owners had held her for so many lifetimes that the stream, which flowed, near her family’s hut was gone. The trees that provided fuel, housing, and food were missing, replaced by a prairie. After all the years of the concept of returning home keeping her going, she did not feel safe. There were no people near her village, and it took her days to unearth signs of her youth. She discovered the land that she had first walked on only because the mountain and stones did not move. As she cleaned the Blue Volga granite idol of her parents’ deity, she felt nothing. The blue-green face of the god looked sad to her. He also was no longer safe. His followers were dead and his power forgotten.
Her first owner was a traveler. They moved with each new moon. Her master felt safe but she failed to understand that her entourage plodded along a predictable path. After many decades, a tale of a demon woman who did not age traveled the same circuit. Finally, a village attacked the demon. Her second owner was the daughter of the woman who bought her. The daughter decided to build a fortress and to rule her fief. Her third owner was the daughter’s son who had grown tired of never gaining his birthright. His guilt and myopic greed caused him to sell her to an alchemist. From that point on, she was an item for trade or barter.
Her final master failed to return home. She remained in his caravan for a week, performing her duties. When she had eaten all the food, she felt justified using her knowledge to destroy her metal shackles. It took her five days to dissolve her bindings with her jellies.
She thought of the places that she had felt safe. Those havens were all underground. A magician made her live in the passages beneath Kyiv when he was being hunted. The tunnels funneled the 15 rivers of the city and protected inhabitants from invaders or punishing ruling forces. For twenty years, she had lived in the coquina catacombs of Odessa. A man who thought he was a seer was convinced that his power had attracted the attention of dragons and demons. No one could approach the lair unseen.
After a week of searching the now unfamiliar area, the woman began to carve her home from the soil of her childhood. She spent fifty years making her home safe. Only she would know the paths and twists of her underground world. Only she would know where the escape exits emerged into the surrounding world.
Eventually, her home attracted others. The woman could have chased them away, but she felt a need to observe people. When the fourth generations of villagers were aging to the grave, there was no hiding the fact that she had not died. The villagers erected a semi-circular wall around the entrance to the woman’s cave. The wall grew and the woman did not protest the separation.
Generations later, people whispered that the villagers maintained the defenses of their community to keep the woman away from the town’s children at night. In the tavern, each generation of gallant males would boast that they would be the one to remove the blight of the woman from the town. When she inevitably outlasted them, she would attend the funeral of the most vocal warrior from each age group.
Daily the woman would remove more soil from her dugout. The community would search her discarded diggings for possible minerals or stones. They did not share any discoveries with the woman. During times of blight or famine, the locals would collect her soil and remove it from the community.
People would peer around the wall to scan the woman’s home. As the village grew, a leader placed two chairs at endpoints of the semi-circle barrier. During full moons, periods of strife, festivals, and other social events, menacing men sat in the chairs. Infrequently, people tried to enter the woman’s home. Aside from the guards, it was the more distraught people of the village who visited her.. The most recent person to enter the woman’s home was a grieving widow. Her grief made her seek the woman to find answers about her loss. Three mornings later, the villagers found the widow in the public square with drapes of herbs, flowers, and crafts around her limbs. The people thought the widow was dead or mindless from torture. When the widow awoke, she went to her house and began the chores for the day. When pressed about the woman’s abode, the widow would state that the home was loved, clean, and well maintained.
On the spring day when the widow was about to remarry, she was again discovered in the square coated with ropes of herbs, flowers, and idols. The woman disappeared for a decade after the wedding, but the widow brought her newborns to the opening of the earthwork to declare their names into the sunken space.
The aging hamlet relaxed when the woman was away. There was a sense of freedom in the people. They did not fear the retribution of the woman for their actions, and parents could not correct their children with threats of giving them to the woman. At times, the leaders of the people would consider filling in the woman’s hovel, but shovels and spades would split if used to cover the opening of the woman’s home. One regretful man tried using a mule and cart to dump rocks into the fastness. The stones crushed the man after his own tram flipped over on him.
Although the townsfolk feared and despised the woman, she had free reign in the village. As an indicator that she was amongst the people, the woman would adorn her head with a dark purple scarf. No other members of the village would wear that color. They looked for it whenever the woman shopped at the market. The woman paid with old and foreign coins, but the merchants welcomed the precious metals they were composed of. During the dark days of winter, the people collected the woman’s tender and deposited it into a lead box. The villagers had a belief that the more people touched the woman’s currency, the longer the winter would be.
After the community fortified against the woman, religious leaders organized efforts to erect carved idols and large wagon-wheel hexes aimed at her home. Each generation attempted to counter the woman with the current symbols of spiritual protection. The largest structure in the village was now a church, and the threshold of the church was oriented to face the woman’s home.
The woman was home when Alyona began her schooling in the church. She had learned the fundamentals of math, reading, and writing. She knew that her coursework would end soon. The village expected girls to be useful to a limit. Her mother walked her only surviving child to school along a path that would prevent their shadow from falling close to the woman’s realm. The villagers performed this ritual after someone claimed that the woman had controlled their behavior by stealing their shadow.
Alyona was daydreaming during school of a life away from the village when the woman touched her. Alyona had spent the morning in the woods collecting mushrooms and other edibles. Her findings made for great, free additions to their usually simple meals. . On days that Alyona returned with a bounty, they shared the extras with neighbors. It was a wager that these people would remember the gift and provide Alyona’s home with food during lean days.
The person gripping Alyona twirled her body so that she faced the opposite direction. Alyona assumed the culprit was another student or a young assistant at the church. It could have been a boy attempting to bully her to get her attention. She lowered her right hand, preparing to use the back to slap the violator. Alyona’s willingness to confront her accoster left when she saw the face of the woman under her purple scarf. Alyona knew she should look away from the woman, but her eyes locked with the woman’s gaze. All the stories the Alyona heard about the town ghoul stated that the woman was so old that her skeleton was all that was left of her body. The woman’s youthful face surprised Alyona. There were no lines or furrows on the woman’s forehead. If anything, Alyona would have stated that the woman’s face glowed.
I can smell it on your hands. The woman placed Alyona’s fingers under her nose. The force of the drawn air startled Alyona. She thought that the woman had pulled the top layer of skin off her index finger. Alyona’s toes curled when the woman sampled her hand. Across a church aisle, one of the priests was herding schoolchildren. He spotted the two of them. His face darkened at the sight of their contact.
WHAT IS ON YOUR HANDS, ALYONA? The priest shouted over the children.
Nothing, Sir. The woman’s tongue darted over the tip of Alyona’s index finger. I was harvesting in the woods before class.
You touched more than growths and nuts this morning, Singleton Child of the Crying Matron. The woman chewed on her thumbnail.
Alyona did not like her mother being referred to in that way, but the eyes of the woman immobilized her. How could she react forcefully to a person who was savoring her hand?
She is mine today, priest. The woman held out her other hand to the shepherd of the church. I will pay her mother for occupying her child for the day, and she will be returned unsoiled and whole.
The priest brought a gurgle of protest up but was shut down quickly.
My tunnels are beneath your place of worship and the bedchambers of Mistress Blake, The women stomped on the ground, and I know all of what has occurred within your walls.
Alyona realized that she was screaming when her throat began to sear. She expected that the woman’s hole would be dark, but the home glowed. There were mirrors and reflective glasses positioned throughout the house to harness sun rays from many holes and entrances in the surface of the residence. Therefore, Alyona was able to see herself yelling on fifty surfaces.
Hush child. The woman touched her mouth. Do not be afraid of the manner in which I inspected you. It is a show for the people. I only want to talk about your morning, and then I will let you go with a full belly and money to buy many toys.
Alyona felt her utterances dwindle down to a wheeze that slipped out her lips.
You have the scent on your fingers, girl. The woman was now examining Alyona’s left hand. It is on both hands, so you must have found a huge source.
A source? Alyona wanted to look at her hands but she maintained her attention on the woman.
Sit. The woman pointed to a well-padded chair. Sit and I will return with small pies and honey.
Alyona hovered over the seat. She wanted to be strong and to stand, but then she smelt the pies. The chair was very soft. There were no pins, claws, or spines in the cushion like she feared.
Alyona. The voice of the woman wove through the tunnels of the underground network. Alyona felt her name circle around her. She had never been afraid of her name before. Alyona Pistan…daughter of Fiva and the missing soldier.
Alyona closed her fist and felt the pain of her nails digging into her palms.
Fiva lives off the salary that the Duke must pay for your father’s military service. Your mother knows that the Duke no longer wants to pay this burden.
Alyona wanted to speak but her throat stung from screaming.
Your father’s name is Bay. He earned this title because he would not stop speaking when he was a baby. Like a horse that always had an opinion, your father would squawk at everyone before he knew words. The voice was now coming directly towards Alyona. My first gift to you and Fiva is the information that your father lives. There was a pause in the woman’s words. An enemy does not enslave him; he is lost with the simpleton that led him away. One day a map will lead him home, child.
The woman emerged from a cutout with a basket laden with pies, a pot of honey, wooden utensils, and slices of ham. In her other hand, she held a bucket of colored water.
We will eat together. The woman placed the basket on Alyona’s lap and retrieved two cups. After you accept the first pie, I will tell you an important secret of mine.
I do not think I want to know any of your secrets Starly-Gradda.
The woman laughed and placed the small wooden spoon into the pie directly in front of Alyona.
Elder-grandmother, you call me. The woman dunked a cup into the water and held it in her left hand. I think that term is the nicest thing a child has called me in a lifetime.
Alyona brought the food to her lips. She smelt the mint, berries, and kasha. Gently she laid the pie onto her tongue. She did not chew; she only let it rest in her mouth. She expected that the food would burn or numb her. The taste was full and made her wish to spit the substance out because it was too good to be real.
Ah, she eats. The woman clapped her hands. I was your age when I saw my first god being born.
Alyona choked on the pie.
I was sitting by a riverbank when the god entered our place. The woman drank from her cup. It was a bright yellow fish with shiny scales. I saw it come from nothing to being here.
The woman snapped her fingers and Alyona swallowed her food.
No one prayed for its existence. No one was singing for it to bring salvation. The woman made circles with her hands in front of Alyona. As far as I know, simple fish do not worship gods, but a god came for the fish of that river.
The woman tapped Alyona’s hand to take another bite of pie.
It floated there. The woman held up her hands. Here I am…a young maiden…thinking a god or demon turned itself into this creature to seduce or corrupt me. Again, a chuckle came from the woman. No other god cared about this special fish. I think it was floating only because it did not realize that a fish should swim in water.
Alyona grabbed a slice of ham. It had been two months since she had meat that was not paste.
Eventually, the golden fish fell into the water and swam away. The woman pulled back her hood and revealed her full face to Alyona. I tried to follow it, but it swam away from shore, and I lost sight of it.
Alyona cleared her throat and licked her lips.
Girl, if you want a drink, just take it. The woman filled Alyona’s cup and handed it to her. The ham is not that salty, but I think your sore throat would improve if you drank.
Alyona sipped the water. It did not taste bitter. It did not smell foul. In fact, the water’s taste was a mixture of apples, roses, and plums.
I told my mother, and she whispered to my father that they needed to trade me into marriage now, before I became soft in the head. I did not want to marry at my age, so I told her that I would go find proof of my shiny golden fish. The woman used a toothpick to dollop out a portion of honey. There was nothing in the water when I returned. I waded in the cool stream. I put my head under the surface and looked at the rocks for the golden shimmer. I found nothing.
Alyona ate the ham.
I was weeping on the spot that I saw the god be born. My heart was full of dread. I started to believe that the shiny golden god was not real. I was so sad that I was quickly accepting that I would be married to an old man so that he would tolerate my problems. The woman tapped her top lip. I felt that my mother had no love for me. I thought that if the golden fish were my mother, it would love me just because that is what should be.
Alyona selected another pie. This pie contained spices and mashed nuts.
Your mother loves you. I listen to all the words spoken in this village. If a parent lacks love for their child, I correct them or have them leave. The woman did not form a fist. She turned her hand into a claw, the conviction in her words hanging in the air until she relaxed it. As all hope was gone, I put my hand down in the grass, and felt the substance.
The woman held her hand flat towards Alyona.
It was clear. It was squishy like the rendered bones of stock animals. It had a pleasant smell, but I was scared to taste it. The woman cupped her hands. I gathered this glob. I used the front of my dress to carry the material. When I believed that the last speck was contained in my clothing, I ran to my parents.
Alyona had felt something similar in the forest that morning.
My mother accused me of only finding the discarded waste of an animal. She threatened to smear it over my face. The woman moved the honey pot closer to Alyona. My father took me to the village shaman, and he looked at the material. They scraped the material off my clothes, but not around my breasts. The shaman thought it was bone waste from an owl, the eggs of a species of frog, a shell-less egg from a dying bird, a mushroom that was usually underground, or the spit of an evil spirit.
Alyona’s eyes widened.
Of course, something as amazing as what we found would be considered evil. The woman waved her hand. I have discovered many bundles and I have never seen the substance created by an evil thing.
No? Alonya asked, breaking her food-induced silence.
No, child. The woman touched the tip of Alyona’s nose. It is not to say that evil people and things are not interested in the substance, but the creation of it does not come from evil.
Alyona resumed consuming the luxurious treats.
The morning after I saw the god being born, people started to fall sick. The woman sighed. My mother blamed the god substance. It was hard for the village not to turn on me after my mother told them it was my fault. The woman’s shoulders lowered. I had not slept that night, and I did not clean after my discovery. They put me in a crate that only had three holes. My father fed me and still cared for me.
Alyona did not know how to react but to nod at the woman.
When my elder brother was close to death from the illness, my mother brought him to my crate. She told me that I would have to watch my brother die because I was an evil liar who unleashed a demon on the community. I could see him wither in pain from the openings in my prison. The woman moved a third pie in front of Alyona. The night my mother told me that my brother would die, my father talked to me. It was an act of rebellion against my mother, but he asked me if I knew what had happened. I cried to him about how this was not something I did. I pleaded with my dad that I would never make my brother suffer, and that the day watching him had crushed my will to live.
The woman tore a slice of ham into pieces and placed pieces of the meat on the floor of her keep.
My father and I wept. He told me that I was likely to die because of the sickness. The woman tapped the tray. Not that I was sick… or was likely to get sick, but because it would seem as justice to the people. I knew his words were true, but I could not think of anything else to say.
The third pie was berry and egg meringue. Alyona did not know that pies like this one existed.
I entered the crate in the dress I wore when I saw the god be born. The truth is that I only had that dress and a wedding dress. My mother kept the dress I would’ve worn to my wedding in a box near her bed. A cat approached the pieces of ham. My grandfather had given me the wedding dress when he died, but she took it from me. My father used what he received from his father to buy me the only special clothes I would have in my life. My father loved me, Alyona, just like yours.
The cat touched Alyona’s leg. It startled her, and she confirmed that the cat was not black.
We talked about the jelly I had found. My father told me that he had tried to burn it, thinking it was an odd piece of animal fat. The substance did not burn. My father then tried to crush it out of existence, but the material was soft, but not easily destroyed. The woman touched the center of her chest. My father’s words made me remember that there was still some of the jelly on my dress. I touched where they did not scrape, and there was a patch of the substance. I pinched the substance and it coated my fingers. It felt warm, but not hot.
Alyona was glad that the cat had returned to the ham.
My father grew angry. He was arguing with the air that if he were a real man, he would protect his daughter and revive his son. He was a good father. The woman showed Alyona a closed smile. He was crying because he knew he could do nothing. I was sore and battered from being in the crate. I felt so greasy and disgusting. I thought I was no longer the same girl that wandered in the meadows.
The woman offered to refill Alyona’s water cup.
For some reason, I brought the fingers I had used to touch the smear of the jelly that was on my dress to my mouth. The taste was tangy, but not foul. It was better than the food that my father had inserted into the holes in my crate. I sucked on it. With both hands, the woman rattled the basket. I felt so much better. It was amazing. I could not see it, but I felt my dry, cracked lips heal. My mind became clear. I knew what I had to do.
Alyona stopped eating to listen to the woman.
I asked my father to place my brother’s mouth in front of the biggest hole of my crate. He thought I was mad. He accused me of confessing that I pledged my soul to demons, but I told him that I felt different after praying to our god. The woman looked directly at Alyona. I rubbed my fingers on the same spot of my dress, and I placed them into my brother’s mouth. He was so weak that he did not respond to this action. I moved my fingers along his gums, his teeth, I even touched his tongue.
Alyona spoke to the woman. Was he healed right away?
The woman chuckled.
I like you Alyona, but you have the impatience of a child. The woman touched Alyona’s chin. It was not a sudden reversal, but he did not die. People died that night, but my brother lived. More importantly, he was the only person to get even slightly better. He was not running in the fields, talking to everyone better, but he was no longer crying in pain. His eyes were no longer looking like they would burst. Moreover, my father stopped crying for us.
I am glad. Alyona looked at the half-eaten pie. She wanted more of it, but she thought it would be rude to return to eating.
It was another day, another four deaths, before my father told the shaman that he thought I could heal the sick. They pulled me from the crate and inspected me. The women called for me to be stoned. The men wanted me burned. The shaman asked how my brother was alive, and how I was still in good health. The woman tapped her right temple. I knew I had to lie. I knew that I could not tell the truth. I had to convince these scared people that I was not dangerous.
The woman shuffled the half pie back to Alyona.
I fell in front of the shaman and shouted, ‘The Green Man came to me.’ I do not think you know the Green Man, child, but he was the god of the people before Christ came to the land. The woman pointed to a drawing of a large tree man. It matters not what god I said talked to me. I yelled that I knew that I did something wicked, but our god had forgiven me, and I was now able to cure the sickness that was killing the village.
Alyona returned to eating the pie.
They whipped me and bound me. I feared that they would burn my dress, so I yelled that the Green Man said that if I were to heal the village, I would need to be as I was when he forgave and blessed me. The woman opened her hands so that Alyona could see her palms. The oldest people would pray in this manner. They tied my legs together and only allowed my right arm to be free. However, that was all I needed to start to heal the people of my life.
Alyona finished her meal.
I would say our prayers; tell the people who were watching that the Green Man wanted everyone to close their eyes so that his healing ray could hit the person. The woman pulled her head backwards with a laugh. During this time, I would pull some of the jelly off my dress and stick the substance in the person’s mouth.
The woman laughed deeply.
What? Alyona asked.
I did not know that so many of my fellow villagers were missing teeth. Children of the people that always had food, had damaged and missing teeth. I was trapped and bored, so my mind began to guess how many disgusting teeth injuries each person would have.
Alyona shivered.
I thought the teeth were bad, but then it got worse. The woman looked upwards. It was on the third day of my healing that it happened for the first time. It was night, and the shaman had decided to blind me with a rag during the healing. Someone’s parents said that they did not want me to steal the soul of their child while I healed them. I placed my finger into a very small mouth, and everything was different. I did not feel a tingle from treating a person with the substance. I sang our songs to Green Man and rubbed jelly over my right fingers. I had planned to give the infant as much of the stuff as I could. The woman covered her eyes. The tiny body jumped, but there was still no response.
Why? Alyona wanted to know.
The baby was dead. I did not know if the god-gift could bring life back to a person. I was scared that if I did not return this child alive to their parents, I would be killed. The woman bobbed her head to the ceiling of her cave home. I kept doing it for a long time. I replenished the coating of my fingers four times, but still there was no living response. I finally shouted into the air. I faked arguing with the Green Man. I begged him to give me the infant. I spoke words that no one had ever heard in an odd voice that I thought would sound like the Green Man. This battle went on for minutes until I asked if whoever brought this child to me would allow the Green Man to have the special child live with him. I am not sure if the parents knew that their baby had died. I am uncertain if the parents wanted me to do something that I thought was evil, but a male voice eventually responded that it would be an honor if his young son joined the hunters of the Green Man.
Alyona gasped.
I spoke in my fake Green Man’s voice that the parents of his new hunter would be honored with a new child by the next spring. I informed the parents that they would find gifts for the next year. The woman rocked her head so that she was looking at the floor. They brought me five more dead people to heal, but no more deceased children. I did not make a fuss over the dead adults. I stated that the Green Man blamed the family for their death. If they truly believed in the power of the Green Man, they would have brought their loved ones to me before the sickness took them.
Alyona nodded her head.
On the fifth day, my fingers were raw. My nails felt like they were growing too fast. I guess I was healing and benefiting from the jelly, but I was placing the same fingers into people’s mouths most of the day. The worst problem was that my dress was getting dry. The woman traced her lips with her right index finger. I think my father was watching me. I think he saw me searching desperately on my dress for any of the substance. I believe this because he brought me fresh peas to eat that night. In the third pea he gave me, the pod was full of the jelly.
Did your village love you for healing everyone after those days? Alyona smiled at the woman.
No. The woman patted the girl’s forehead. They kept me in the crate. There was no joy for me after I found the jelly.
You saved them.
The woman breathed deeply.
I said that the Green Man had used me to save them. I was nothing but a tarnished girl who may have the power to harm or make people ill. The woman turned her head to the side.
Did your father and brother free you from the crate? Alyona looked hopefully at the woman.
No child, the town folk dispatched the shaman with me in that wooden prison out into the world to purge the town of my evil. He threatened to kill me daily. He attempted to abandon me at every opportunity. The woman cupped her hand in front of Alyona. When I sensed a second source of the god jelly, he was able to sell me to a person.
No! Alyona did not know if it was a spell, but she was extending her hand towards the woman.
The sum was so great that my parents and brother lived well. The woman clapped each hand separately. That was after the shaman took his share of my bounty and spent more money on food, drink, and women on the trip home.
That’s…..
That is life, my special girl. The woman grabbed her hand and they stood up. The woman led the pair through tunnels and caverns. Eventually, the woman pulled her through a blanket of vines that concealed an exit to her labyrinth.
Your forest, Alyona. The woman gestured to the glade Alyona crossed to enter the woods.
Alyona pulled her hand away from the woman and pulled her hair back.
I am not sure what you want me to find. Alyona looked up to the woman. She received a smile.
I have never told anyone this before, the woman stuck her tongue out to Alyona, when I first touched the jelly, I felt that there were ants under my skin. It was the power of the jelly moving through me. It was such an odd feeling that I thought it was a sign of madness.
Alyona lowered her head. I felt something like that. I thought it was worms latching onto me from the peat.
That is the place, little one. Take me there.
Alyona was about to step forward when the woman asked her another question.
What color was the substance you touched today?
It was not one color, ma’am. Alyona moved her hand down to her legs. She brushed unseen but felt passengers from her body. I grabbed it first because I thought it was rose root. My mother could turn the flower into medicine to sell or trade. Alyona knelt and touched the ground. Except that the flower was so low to the ground and it was not the red or yellow flower I normally pick. They were violet with orange centers.
They did not feel like flowers.
No. Alyona pulled her hand away from the ground. They stuck to me like honey.