ChocoPro 303: Egg ResTart It’s ChocoMania weekend! Tonight’s solitary episode features some rare combinations: Sayaka takes on Masa in singles, the Utility Players face off against the forces of UMA (including Nightmare Factory’s Kojio!), and EGG TART finally reforms to battle two of the wildest Ichigaya has ever housed. Let’s Go, ChocoPro!
🍫 CLICK HERE FOR THE LINK! ChocoPro 303 🍫 Sayaka VS Masa Takanashi, Choun Shiryu & Shin Suzuki VS Sayaka Obihiro & Kojio, Ryuichi Sekine & Mochi Natsumi VS EGG TART (Chie Koishikawa & Hagane Shinno)! It airs TONIGHT at 11 pm EDT / 8 pm PDT (Tomorrow at 4 am BST, 12 pm JST). Live and Free on YouTube!

Don't forget to Adjust Your Volume, Wrestling is Loud!

Change the stage, escape the normal! ChocoPro is built different. Find out why wrestlers like it so much: Find a new home on the bleeding edge. (This is not your regular wrestling show.) Join us for this episode, or check out the back catalog of 17 wonderful Seasons on the Gatoh Move ChocoPro YouTube channel...300+ episodes with stories and pro-wrestling like you've never seen. New to the promotion? It features a roster of skilled veterans, rising stars, and wonderful guests fighting in the ChocoPro Arena: Ichigaya Chocolate Square. Subscribe for more content than just the live matches! (AEW Watch Alongs, Discussions, Interviews, Food Challenges, etc) Even if you can't catch it live, don't sweat it! It will still be available on the channel.

Sayaka 👗

VS

Masa Takanashi 🍶

Violence & Booze

“I'm gonna kill you! Yayyyyy!” While she has become infamous for her unsettling quotes, “Smiling Violence” Sayaka is known more for her ungodly brutal striking power. Those explosion like forearms stagger even the toughest opponents in Ichigaya! Add in Sayaka’s pin point dropkicking ability and her growing talent in pins and submissions, and Masa might find that the rising Twitch star is just too much to handle. Sayaka’s unnerving cheerfulness while she does vicious things provides her with a big presence in the square. That unattached joy will eventually be the stuff of legends! (After all, she’s “happy to beat someone”!) Don't forget, Sayaka hangs out around Minoru Suzuki and survives to tell the tale! Will we see a Hammer of the Gods? This photogenic phenom is on the rise, keep an eye on her!
Drunken Monkey Masa Takanashi is ready for anything! The belt collecting president of Gatoh Move is known for racking up wins as much as he does bar tabs, representing many companies with a swagger and slick technique that will have you questioning just how tipsy he is! The Counter Fighter of ChocoPro baits his opponents into reversals and trickery that will have them staring at the lights or tapping out in quick fashion. He’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve, but will he be able to handle overwhelming power? Takanashi had better keep up that fancy footwork or he’ll find himself hammered into oblivion! OrePan might have been fended off once by CDK, but Sayaka is still aiming for that big win.

Choun Shiryu 🐉 & Shin Suzuki 🍙

VS

UMA+ (Sayaka Obihiro 💙 & KOJIO 💀)

Utility, Monsters, Action!

Monsters? “So what!?” Choun Shiryu is here! The Dragon of ChocoPro is a Wuxia hero (having done some of the most spectacular acts in Ichigaya) with his own fantastic flair! He is one of the most legitimate forces in the promotion. This Kung Fu master boasts a truly unique fighting style, pulling off action movie stunts you’ll not find elsewhere. While his usual partner is taking some time away from wrestling, (though Ninja Sayuri is still behind the scenes, as is tradition!) this time his partner is fellow utility player Shin Suzuki! Shin is always ready to go! His warm personality and intense athleticism fit well with the general vibe of Ichigaya...and honestly, his knack for dealing with kids (as a proud father) comes in handy in this den of goblins and monsters! Shin & Choun both mesh well with just about any pairing, so expect these two to sync together with machine precision once again. Can speed and teamwork overcome this Arkham Horror?
Fresh off an appearance at GanJo, Sayaka Obihiro is cool as hell! With a deep sense of humor and lightning quick striking & pinning techniques, Obi rules...but she is a bit...different...when she teams with Monsters. The charismatic full time chef has got a great set of flame gear and an intense uncontrollable style. Even if she’s gone feral, you'll find yourself enchanted by her brash nature and wild antics! Strange and occult happenings are somewhat common in Ichigaya, and the mysterious organization known as UMA features many monsters that just so happen to wrestle. Horrors from across the world are attracted to ChocoPro due to their influence...Speaking of which, a cold wind brings a shadow over Ichigaya once again! Hailing from Parts Unknown and trained at the Nightmare Factory (which makes even more sense given that sinister look!), kojio’s frightening presence made him fit right in with the other Monsters of UMA. With brawling brutality, vicious submissions, and an absolutely wicked set of gear that makes him look like a character straight from a comic book, kojio scares his opponents and impresses the audience with his relentless nature and bone chilling aura. That laugh is something else! This unstoppable monster has been a wonderful addition to Ichigaya, but how long will he accept Obi taking pinfalls? I wouldn’t want to upset him!

Ryuichi Sekine 🐗 & Mochi Natsumi 🍡

VS

EGG TART (Chie Koishikawa 🏵️ & Hagane Shinno ⚔️)

Egg ResTart

A returning team up 12 years apart!? Pairing up Mochi Natsumi and Ryuichi Sekine is like putting two different kinds of explosives together. While the Rebellious Hardcore & Deathmatch Unit known as PROMINENCE has a lot of exciting members busy all over the place, Mochi has been killing it in Ichigaya. She is a dark clad fiery personality with an undeniable raw charisma. Her shocking moments of brutality are some of my favorites in the whole series. A well balanced strength and agility fighter with a good sense of humor will always thrive in Ichigaya, but Mochi has fit in as if she was always there...the same can also be said for Sekine! While he took time off to focus on his farming (and to get married to TJPW’s recently retired Nodoka Tenma), he is just as dangerous as he always was! He just also sells Rice Cakes now. Sekine is a loud, wild, completely chaotic element when it comes to Ichigaya. He’s known for obliterating stools and the environment alike! This violent farmer would stop at nothing to entertain the audience, unleashing a volatile way of fighting that usually ends with the opponent locked into the Combine. Much like his emoji (the wild boar), expect Sekine to rampage maniacally through ChocoPro once again. Good thing Mochi is always up for a good rampage! With these two together, be careful not to be overwhelmed by their wild energy and charm!
It has been a long time, but they’re back together! Chie Koishikawa & Hagane Shinno, the combination known as EGG TART, are a hot and cold team. Opposites definitely attract, and the polar attraction results in some of the craziest team attacks you will ever witness! “Too Much Energy” Chie brings an uncontrollable excitement wherever she goes (including recently GanJo), sprinting around the Square and delivering lightning quick striking...often from the air! Her tightly locked Stretch Mufflers and eye catching arm drags will have you shouting as much as she does. The Frantic Fencer is one of the most popular characters in all of ChocoPro! Her Wintery partner on the other hand is a remorseless killing machine...and the Super Asia Champion! Hagane’s icy ferocity usually brings about ugly thuds via heavy striking and brutal slams. The “Cold Killer” earned his epithet by easily dispatching some of the best the promotion has to offer! This ageless assassin only shows emotion around his chaotic partner...and together they amplify one another’s personality! These two have limitless potential, and now that Hagane has the Big Blue Belt they will also have limitless enemies looking for an opportunity!
Enjoy all the wrestling this weekend!
Come and see the wild creativity that produced Two of the Seven AEW Women's World Champions! (Both of which have appeared on ChocoPro!) You'll be wondering if you're seeing future champs, as well. ChocoPro is the Frontier of Pro Wrestling! Match after match of hard hitting, chaotic, fun bouts with a friendly online audience. We're quickly growing, and you're welcome to come along!
Here are some Frequently Asked Questions:

“What is this?”

ChocoPro is a free online promotion run by AEW's Emi Sakura, that takes place in the legendary Ichigaya Chocolate Square! It features a steady pace of live Episode releases, fan interaction, season long story arcs, and much more! A place where the turnbuckles are replaced with 14th floor windows, the ropes are often replaced with fans, unforgiving walls provide creative avenues for skills otherwise unthinkable, and you can take solace in knowing that the referees usually do nothing. While it might be a shocking change at first, the intensity and storytelling will leave you wanting more.

“Why are they fighting in ____?”

Short answer is that it is a cost effective, unique venue with a better availability schedule and allows the roster access for training. Emi Sakura has been using this place for a long time, and you might be surprised at some of the names that have used it (even outside of ChocoPro!). There are a few in-ring Episodes and Gatoh Move has in ring shows with crowds on the YouTube channel. Think of it like the Hart Dungeon but as a promotion, if that helps!

”What are the rules?”

While special match stipulations will usually be explained before the respective matches, the general rules of ChocoPro are simple. Pins only count on the Chocolate Mat and are not broken by the edge or Wall. Submissions usually only count on the Chocolate Mat, and ARE broken by reaching the edge or wall (sometimes ceiling...). Double pins and Double submissions are legal (and encouraged) in ChocoPro Tag matches, meaning cohesive teams will always have the advantage! Count Outs only exist if specified, since many matches stray from the comfort of the Chocolate Square into the streets (and the rest of the building itself!) There is a Time Limit for each bout (based on card placement and importance) and the Referee has discretion (even if they tend to do nothing most of the time!). Every Ref is different, some have different levels of bias and speed.

“How can I support them?”

Watch the show! Even if you can't see it live, the views matter! Like & Subscribe! You can join the Channel's membership for different tiers of perks...but also, you can buy single episode Sponsorship, Digital autographed photos, and more on their shop site as well as purchase shirts from PWTees (which features some great options!) If you'd like to donate or purchase a main wall sponsorship, you can via Paypal or Patreon...and don't forget to cheer for your favorites! (especially if you want to do a superchat!)

”How come there aren’t a lot of comments on the threads?”

ChocoPro is a YouTube show, meaning the discourse happens live...in the chat! Those that comment in the threads on here tend to do so in order to help new viewers that might be intimidated by the fast moving chat. Don’t be afraid to just dive in though, the community is friendly.

“Why are you posting this here? / Are you paid for this?”

This is a wrestling forum, and I'm trying to broaden the horizons of others! There is a lot of good wrestling out there...Plus growing the fan base means more people for me to joke around with! I honestly do believe this is what a lot of fans are looking for, even if it is too different for some! But different tastes are good. Variety is the spice of life. This is a labor of love (it really doesn't take that long) considering how much work they do to put on so many shows...for free!
If you have any other questions, feel free to ask me on here or on Twitter, where I’m April Foolin’! ChocoPro is full of Mania!
Season Tracker: We're 3/18 into Season 18! (Each Season is usually around 18 episodes)

Part I
Rajendra Jain had been pacing back and forth in his living room for the past fifteen minutes and there was no trace in his pace that would’ve indicated that he would not indeed be doing the same for fifteen more.
Sitting on the sofa, cross-legged and sipping a cup of coffee was his wife, Arushi Madan. She had taken a particular interest in observing her husband at times when he would be expecting his ‘friends in high places.’ He would go to great lengths to ensure that these guests of his received the finest treatment in his house. After he had made sure that everything in the house was tidier than they normally were, from the furniture to the modest collection of vases and trinkets, he would start pacing back on forth in his living room which he would only stop when the doorbell would ring. This was one such occasion.
‘Fifty-five!” Arushi murmured.
“What was that?” Rajendra asked and then he suddenly let out a loud cry of agony.
“It’s usually after your fiftieth round that you stub your toe on that table. The maximum it has taken till now is fifty-nine rounds, but mostly it happens by the fifty-fifth one.” Arushi said.
They both glanced at each other, Rajendra with a bewildered gaze and mouth wide open while Arushi smirked with a cunning look in her eyes. Arushi was good at observing things at a young age. She could observe and make an accurate assumption about almost everything. When she was twelve, she knew that the old lady next door would react in a negative manner when her father would’ve approached her to talk about her grandson taking up his parking spot. She had instead told him to wait till his grandson arrives and speak with him directly as that would’ve solved the dispute amicably.
“You shouldn’t make early assumptions.” Her father had told her.
After her assumption had turned out to be right, she had the same smirk and cunning look in her eyes. Her father had then smiled back and told her that her eyes at that point looked pretty like that of a puppy after sipping vinegar. She had never seen a puppy sip vinegar before, but this compliment had made her feel happy, nevertheless.
She, however, hadn’t received nor did she expect to receive any such compliment from her husband in such situations.
“Can you stop giving me that stupid smile and bring some bandages? Ugh, I think my toe is bleeding.” Rajendra said as he got down to his knees to inspect his wound.
Arushi didn’t say anything but, quickly got up from her sofa after keeping the coffee mug down and went to look for the first aid.
Just then the doorbell rang. The friends of Rajendra had arrived.
He sprang up to greet them. He had made four influential friends that he would refer to as ‘very close’ since he had moved for business reasons to Barsatpur, a very remote town in India.’ Rajendra despite at that time undergoing some financial issues, was a wealthy man. He had a big house, the biggest in that town and didn’t have a car only because he could not drive.
“But your wife can drive. Why don’t you get a car.” Dhruv, one of Rajendra’s four friends asked him, just as all five of them had seated themselves in the living room.
‘I err…. she doesn’t drive that well you see, and I don’t see any reason for…’ Rajendra began and then suddenly stopped and turned around to see Arushi who had re-entered the living room with bandages and some cotton along with a bottle of antiseptic.
“Sorry, it took a while, I had kept the first aid in a different place so….”
“Well, I won’t be needing it anymore!” Rajendra said.
Arnav who had by now noticed Rajendra's wounds began with a smile “Looks like our buddy Rajendra’s absent-mindedness gets him injured indoors as well.”
Rajendra began to quiver in embarrassment as he fixed his gaze on the floor with fists clenched on both sides. Arushi was still standing behind the sofa where Rajendra was sitting, puzzled at Arnav’s remark.
Rajendra looked up at his wife and through an angry glance at her signalled her to leave. She obeyed but just as she turned her back to leave, Arnav told her to wait.
He began “It was that one time when I saw Rajendra walking alone near the market, lost in his own thoughts as usual. Suddenly I saw him falling straight into a wide-open ditch and after that got covered in all sorts of nasty…”
“That will do!” Rajendra finally blurted angrily. He then turned to Arushi and began in an angrier tone than before. “And you! Do you want to sit and chat with us, or do you have some work of your own?” Arushi didn’t reply but simply turned and walked away.
Rajendra felt calmer when she was gone. He however didn’t notice how all four his companions had been gazing at her as she was walking out of the living room. They had gazed at the back of her long and slender neck, and they had gazed all the way down to her waist and hips. All the while Rajendra felt relieved at the thought of how he was now free to converse with his friends now that the only annoying presence was gone.
It had been a couple of hours of talking and feasting and drinking until Rajendra’s guests were ready to go home.
“The food was delicious.” Said Tejas.
“Yes, but next time try the new chicken recipe that I told you about, the one with lots of garlic and spices.” Added Dhruv. “Your wife would love it too.”
“She is vegetarian actually.” Rajendra replied.
“Ah, that’s no surprise.” Said Arnav who was a bit too drunk compared to the rest. “After all she is an animal lover. Loves hugging dogs whenever she sees one.” His voice shifted from faint to loud at the same pace as he swayed from left to right while trying to achieve a fixed standing position.
The rest of the company wondered if he should be told to stop talking before he decides to abandon certain moral codes when it comes to respectful communication.
“And I must add…” Arnav continued while raising his hand which was also having a hard time staying firmly raised “women who are vegetarians have the perfect body, and my dearest lucky Rajendra, your miss’s body can rival any runway or lingerie model. I mean she also does like showing herself off when she wears those extremely revealing clothes often.”
One would imagine Rajendra was the person that told him to stop talking about his wife in such a way, but he wasn’t. It was Pratyush. Pratyush was a man of great size and stature. He didn’t speak much but had a habit of stepping in whenever there was a situation where someone was needed to step in.
In this scenario he gently lifted Arnav from his feet as if he was a small doll. Arnav who had offered no resistance while being picked up had suddenly dozed off in his drunken stupor like a toddler falling asleep in his father’s shoulder.
“Looks like he had a bit too much to drink today didn’t he.” Said, Rajendra.
No one of his four companions had asked for him to defend the man who was sexualizing his wife, but he did it anyway. “All right then goodnight,” said Rajendra.
“Before I go, I just want to ask if….” Tejas said. He looked around and signalled the others to carry on.
Tejas waited till the rest of the company had gone beyond hearing distance. He then lit a cigarette, offered one to Rajendra as is courtesy and upon his rejection began to speak.
“I was wondering if you have had some time to think about what I had asked you a couple of days back?”
Rajendra said in a hesitant tone “I would of course like to help you in your time of need but as you already know I am also going through financial hardships and the amount of money that you asked for is…. don’t take it the wrong way but I don’t feel comfortable in lending it to you in such times.”
“Look, I have always trusted you and it’s fine if you have some reservations despite this.” Tejas continued with his persuasion for a while and then went off saying his “goodnight” and “do think about it.”
As Rajendra walked his way towards the entrance of his house, he recalled what Arushi had been telling him. She had said that all these four people whom he considers friends just tried to use, and associate with him for his wealth. She had also told him that if given the opportunity, they will even throw him in jeopardy if that makes them gain any advantage out of him. However, Rajendra had always dismissed these thoughts as baseless.
Part II
It was raining heavily, and Rajendra who was returning home from the market had forgotten his umbrella. His fast-paced walk soon turned to sprint, not because he wanted to reach home before getting too drenched but because he didn’t want to be seen by any of his four ‘close friends’ walking drenched in rain without an umbrella, given his reputation of being absent-minded and clumsy.
His house had a recent infestation of rats, and he was for once proud of himself to have not forgotten buying the rat poison. The old one was almost finished with zero dead rats. As he entered his living room, he found an old man lying down on his living room sofa.
He too had been drenched in the rain not long ago as his thick beard and scarce and thin hair were still wet. However, he saw that this unexpected visitor had been provided dry clothes. It was Rajendra’s clothes that he would wear at business meetings. The man was asleep. Rajendra had only examined the man for a little while before deeming him as ‘disgusting.’ He had no foul odour but his unkempt appearance and his wet and dirty jacket hanging nearby made Rajendra deduce that he was a poor homeless man and hence was to be deemed ‘disgusting.’
“Arushi!” Rajendra called his wife.
“Arushi, who is he and what is he doi….” Rajendra paused when Arushi showed up with an expression on her face that he didn’t expect and one that that scenario hinted of trouble.
She had tears in her eyes and had a hard time speaking what she was trying to say. “He just…. I am so sorry…he is not….” She broke into more tears.
Rajendra rushed to her and gave her a hug. “It’s alright, I am here now.”
Arushi clenched her husband tightly and buried her face on his chest that made the only part of his shirt that was somewhat dry from rain now wet with tears.
“tell me what happened? Who is this man and why is he here?” Rajendra asked agitatedly.
“He is dead!” She replied reply. Outside there came the sound of a sudden loud thunder.
Rajendra felt like he was going to fall sick.
“How did this happen?” He asked.
Arushi hesitated for a while, took a deep breath, wiped off her tears and started with her explanation. She explained how this man arrived at her doorstep while being drenched in rain. How despite him looking like a homeless man wandering the streets, she immediately recognized him as his old friend from college. How he had told her that he was in extreme debt and had now been pushed to crippling poverty. She took another deep breath when she said that she had invited him in, given him some fresh clothes, offered him a glass of water and had only gone to the kitchen to make him some tea when she realized her mistake.
“You don’t mean it was the same glass which contained….?” Rajendra began in a terrified tone.
Arushi simply nodded in affirmative while pointing to the glass that had supposedly contained liqua-tox II, a liquid concentrate that is used to kill rats and mice and which had led to the death of their unexpected visitor.
Rajendra fell into the chair in a state of fear and panic. Arushi was sobbing once more and told him that she had killed a person and will now surely be in prison.
Rajendra suddenly leapt up from his chair. An idea had struck him. He knew how to save her. Rajendra felt a sense of jubilation thinking how this sudden idea will make him the knight in shining armour and his wife will be the damsel in distress that he will save. Never again will he be called things clumsy, impotent and absent-minded and never again will his wife count the number of rounds he takes in the living room before he stubs his toe on the table.
His idea was to call his four friends in high places and with their connections dispose of the dead body. After all why would anyone care or miss a man who was pushed to poverty by possibly his own bad decisions. Most people would probably think that this man had committed suicide.
Rajendra explained this plan to his wife and before she could give any opinion of her own, for or against this plan of his, Rajendra ran to get his cell phone. He called Arnav first who said that he was out of town and reassured him not to worry. He then called Tejas who said that he would have shown up at his place that very moment had he not just recently fractured his leg. Dhruv declared that he was away attending a wedding and Pratyush said that will not help.
After his call ended with Pratyush he felt that he was indeed helpless. He thought to himself that he was just unlucky as this misfortune had to strike him when all three of his friends were busy and one in a possibly mad mood.
He sat motionless in his chair for what felt like hours. It probably had hardly been fifteen minutes and the rain was still pouring when Rajendra suddenly heard a knock on the door. As he opened the door, he felt a rush of joy. All his four friends were outside.
“Thank God, I knew you all will come to help me.” Rajendra said smiling ear to ear.
“This is him, officer.” Said Arnav pointing towards Rajendra.
Rajendra’s smile faded as he heard this, and a look of terror took hold of him as he noticed two police officers standing behind.
“What is the meaning off all this?” Rajendra asked bewildered.
“This man tried to ask her to hide a dead body. His wife murdered a poor man, and he wanted us to be his accomplice.” Said Tejas.
“We all knew early on that he and his wife were a bit crazy, but we had never expected something like this. Well, here is what one can call devil in sheep’s clothing.” Said, Dhruv.
Pratyush meanwhile didn’t say anything.
“Please step aside.” Said one of the police officers shoving everyone to one side and entering the house to investigate the crime scene. “My wife is innocent! She would never hurt a soul!” Rajendra began to shout.
The other policeman firmly grabbed Rajendra’s arm with only minimal force and told him to calm himself. “Sir, as per protocol I am calling in for a lady police officer as we have a female who is accused of murder.” He said to the policeman who was coming back from the living room.
“No need for that!” came the reply. “There is no murder and hence there is no accused.”
Everyone looked at surprised at the policeman who said this. Then a figure emerged from behind him.
Rajendra suddenly screamed as he felt a sudden sense of terror. “A ghost! There is a ghost!”
“Now, now let’s not act so rude. I only look so ridiculous because of the weather. Rain doesn’t suit me at all you see.” Said the unwanted visitor who was unmistakably not dead.
There was a moment of confusion until the people present began to get a sense of clarity, some faster than others.
“You should get yourself a lawyer sir, you can try criminal conspiracy or sue for defamation.” The policemen said to Rajendra before leaving. The four other people left almost immediately.
The unexpected visitor introduced himself as Saurabh Deb who was a budding actor and a good friend of Arushi. He explained to him that it was Arushi who had made created this plan to test the loyalty of these people who Rajendra had considered very good friends. Together they had put up this act which led to the true colours of all four of Rajendra’s friends being brought to light.
The rain had stopped by then and the sun was shining bright in the afternoon sky.
There were a thousand words of gratitude that Rajendra wanted to say to his wife at that time. Arushi looked at him, smiled and then with a twinkle in her eyes she said “The weather is perfect today. Would you take me out for some coffee?”
Rajendra smiled back and said “Yes.”

Current state of mind. Anxious, curious and alone with my thoughts.
While sitting at the computer my mind starts to wonder. I am unsure on which journey I will be going on today. My imagination has been running wild. But it continually comes back to one thing. Religion and the ongoing spiritual war between God and the Devil. I look up videos for hours and extract all the “messages and paths” that I am able to. I know this is likely unhealthy and delusional thoughts but I believe what I am experiencing is larger than myself. I am deeply entrenched in the fact that I am being led by God on my destined path. It is truly frightening.
The question I guess my mind keeps replaying is why am I here. Then my mind goes into overdrive assessing all the wild theories. I sit everyday and watch youtube videos and look up conspiracy theories, current events and anything else that will feed my overactive mind. This goes on for years(around 15 -20 easy). Trying to answer a question that seems to have no answer. Then I have a mental breakdown due to stress.
Now things just seem to look different and everything has a significance that I cannot explain. I know what I just experienced according to my therapists were delusions but it was the most real thing I have ever felt. As much as I try not to think about the events that happened during my breakdown it seems as though it is my destiny to do so. To replay them, analyze and try to understand what occurred. To everyone else it looked as though my mind had malfunctioned and shut down. But to me, it was the exact opposite. I felt spiritually awake and things have never made more sense.
I never knew if God truly existed and it ate at me my entire life growing up. I was a very sick child growing up and very religious. I saw poverty all around me and consistently wondered why God would allow this to happen and why won’t he come and help. I would pray every night and ask him to help. I always yearned to understand why things were the way they were and would regularly attempt to communicate with God. I don’t believe I ever got an answer. I tried less and less as the years went by and eventually at the age of 14 I gave up my devotion to God for selfish purposes. I became envious of those with success and was sick of being looked down upon by the successful judgemental people in my community. I turned to weed heavily and began selling to fuel my addiction.
Then I went through a home invasion and got a spinal injury and PTSD. I withdrew from society but would still maintain social ties through weed sales. I quit school due to the PTSD and money from selling weed. I worked hard labor jobs(masony,roofing,factories). Then I went into the service and got kicked out for…you guessed it weed. I was also a loan shark in the Marines but they never caught that lol. I withdrew from my family after I got kicked out due to the shame that came along with my discharge. I had two friends-one my cousin and my parents(my mom and step dad). I would sell weed and job hop to try to increase my bank account. I did pretty well and landed a job for a big pharma company that helped me save up a decent chunk. Then I was offered a management position there. I almost took it but instead gave it to a co-worker that was horribly mean to be. I learned that his wife had cancer and that he was having a horrible time. For some reason I got it into my head that I needed to resign and make sure this man gets this good paying job. I believe this was the first time god was using me to get a desired result on someones life. Long story short I made sure the dude got the job and I left.
Fast Forward to my mental breakdown. During this time I believe I was led by God to the mental hospital to escape a demonic group that was trying to kill me. While at the mental hospital I felt surrounded by this demonic group. I believed they drugged me and planned on sacrificing me initially. Then further into my stay I was able to gather that for some reason I was important to them and that they were afraid of God. I began reading the bible again and putting on the armor of god on a daily basis. I would also pray and use positive music to make the demons cower while I was around. I noticed they would always try to use sound as a weapon. Like have someone just talking nonsense when you were trying to talk or distract you while you were trying to think…etc. I met a couple other residents there that I believed were sent there to help me. The oddest thing of my entire stay was that I felt like I knew everyone.
One morning while waking up the entire room showed a hue of green. A nurse walked in and there was an aura around her that I cannot explain. Nothing you could see, but feel. I asked her if she was God and she said yes. I then asked her if I could walk with her and she allowed me to. We walked up and down the hallways admiring the art on the hallway walls. We came to a picture of a wooded area that contained a dock that led to a lake. For some reason I believe that she wanted me to jump into this lake. I asked her if it was real and she said yes. I asked her if there were other ways and she also said yes. I humbly declined to jump into the lake at the time and told her I wanted to try to save everyone else( I don’t know what I meant by this).
There was an rn there with the name of **** that was the devil. He wore tactical clothing and wore a masonic ring. Through conversation with him when he was attempting to get me at my weakness he revealed himself and his motives. We had a conversation and he was attempting to terrify me that he was going to torture me. I stayed stone faced knowing that I was now walking with god. And was not afraid anymore. This earned his respect and I believe he was at a loss on how to get my soul. I showed him how powerful God could be by destroying his demons that were laid before me. I did this by protecting myself with the armor of god and using prayer and positivity to get rid of the darkness that existed in that place.
After talking with God I went to the devil to tell him about my encounter and my plan. I told him that there was another way that was not written and that God had confirmed things could change. I told him I was not making a deal with him and wanted to be a mediator between him and God so they could potentially reason with each other. My ultimate goal was to save the devils soul. I believe that if I could do this that his minions would follow and that we would change the current paradigm on how things “have to be”. Imagine a world where the Devil understands the errors in his ways and aligns himself once again with God. This would eliminate the evil period. Something that imo needs to be done. We spend our energy fighting with each other and competing with each other on a constant basis. I can’t get it out of my head the possibilities of a perfect world. I know with God this is possible due to all things being possible with God. Revelations is terrifying to me and I think through diplomacy maybe, just maybe that could be avoided. He just laughed, shook his head and then shook my hand. I told him no hard feelings and that my ultimate goal was to erase the evil that plagues this world.
Not like I had the answer though. But with my new found abilities I felt like I was able to communicate with God on a daily basis and follow the path laid out to complete this mission. I got out of the mental hospital and for the first month I would receive heavy messages through youtube videos letting me know I was on the correct spiritual path. The friend I was staying with initially was very helpful. Eventually The messages and disinformation started appearing on my screen again and I instantly knew it was the devil. I would be selective in what I chose to watch and read and never give him the time of day like I did in the past. I believe this angered him and eventually he had no choice but to hit me in an unexpected manner.
Two months into my treatment I was well enough to the point where I no longer needed the medication. I communicated this to my doctors and therapists and refused treatment. I was doing very well and was positive and hopeful on most days. Then my friend who initially was helping me started to turn on me. I would attempt to talk to him but I would only receive negative attitude and demeaning statements from him. I attempted to help him to the best of my ability and made the choice to move out to a more positive environment. I told him this and he personally attacked me a lot. This ended our friendship. I thought to myself how can i not help him? I used the same tactics that I used in the mental hospital but it seemed to have no effect on him at all. Then it hit me, he was possessed by a powerful demon. Which immediately led me to another realization. I am being set up.
I believe my entire life since I have been a child is a facade. The possibilities are endless but the most likely scenario is that I was brought up as part of a cult that I was unaware of my entire life. Like everyone is in on it. It all hit me when I was able to get this from a different post on here. Now my brain sits and attempts to pick apart who am I and why am I here. I believe this is the path that God currently has me on. To figure out the rest of this story.

If your initial chat request and/or message does not interest me, or if they break any of the following stipulation, I shan't reply.
So be warned.
Also, please, only initiate contact with me if you are looking for a Dominant. If you initiate contact for any other reason then I will not respond.
In the past I've replied to every single chat/message in the past. In the more recent cases the sender clearly hadn't read my post, which has now forced me to clamp down. Quite frankly, it's a waste of my time.
After you've sent your chat request and/or message, you will have to wait for a reply (if you meet my criteria). As I will either be busy, sleeping or processing your chat/message.
Also, please include a photograph of yourself. As I've included a photograph on my post.

• If you're going to write, please do so with something substantial. Please, please put some thought and some feeling into it. If I receive a message which consists solely of "Hi", "Hey", etc, or a low energy message then I reserve the right to ghost and put a curse on you.
  
• I only want to receive messages from single women.
  
• I love kids and at a pinch I would get involved with a woman who had a child. I wouldn't, however, get involved with a woman who had a "Brady Bunch" situation.
  
• I love being single. There's a freedom there and it allows you to learn and grow without the shackles of co-dependancy. For me to allow someone to disrupt that, that someone would have to be amazing and someone who is a mirror image of myself. Accept no substitute.
  
• If you're a business owner or captain of industry or a woman in a high powered job, get in touch. The thought of Dominating a woman who is a boss, in charge of dozens of people gets me very hot - this isn't a requisite, though, it's just a hot fantasy. A fantasy that I would love to turn into a reality. Having this high powered, successful woman wearing my collar and her trusting me enough to in charge of her life, health, well-being, finances, etc. Hot.)
  
• Since I'm reaching. It would be cool to be the Dom of an actress. I wonder how many, if any, couples involving actors and and actresses participate in BDSM and how many of them are in D/s relationships.
  

Hell, it doesn't have to be a professional actress, occasional community theatre would suffice. :p
As I said, though, the previous two variables are not a prerequisite. I don't care what career a woman has. The only thing that's important to me is that we are emotionally and spiritually compatible, everything else can fall by the wayside.
What I'm looking for:
I want a woman who has character, who is classy and sophisticated. A woman who has dignity, strong opinions, strong unwavering morals and a personality. I don't want a doormat. Just because a woman is a submissive in no way means that she's weak-willed, inherently inferior and docile.
I've known submissive women from all walks of life, from at the pinnacle of the arts, to the top of the mental health profession even to someone involved in the space industry.
It's a long heralded deep misconception, not just within the vanilla community, but also in the BDSverse, that the Dominants wield the most power. They don't. If anything, submissives and slaves hold considerably more power, as without their consent, the Dominant is just a person holding a collar without a person attached.
So yes, if you're a submissive or a slave and you're reading this. Just remember that YOU initially hold the power.
I like strong character. Collaring a strong woman is more of an achievement than collaring someone who has the backbone integrity of a jellyfish or someone who is already broken.
I like the process
My kind of woman is Elizabeth Bennet and Wednesday Addams all rolled into one. Essentially, a woman who is strong and opinionated, who knows her own mind, and doesn't give a rat's tail for the judgements of others. But also a woman who is a natural submissive behind their hard shell of an exterior.
She is a lover of books and words.
She has grace and class and sophistication. Being the Dominant of a woman who is the personification of class and elegance is a really hot fantasy. Posh, even. Well-to-do and maybe a little spoilt.
I'm an old fashioned gentleman at heart, with manners and politeness. Cue my username. (If you don't get the play-on-words of my username then you've failed the first test)
I'm majorly into watersports, so if that kind of thing turns you on, we're going to get along!
I'll start with the "Darcy" part of my psyche:
I'm not like the vast majority of Dominants out there who will collar the first submissive who comes along. I have high standards and I'll only collar a submissive if those standards are met.
I find, in society, with kink and vanilla, people are too willing to drop their standards and take whatever on off. People have a "first come, first served" mentality.
That isn't me.
This is why 50% of marriages end in divorce and 75% of those married 50% are miserable and the parties are waiting for the sweet taste of death to release them from the hell that they've created, for fear of dying alone.
That isn't me, either. I would rather live and die by my own sword than be with someone for whom I want to kill. Life is too short to be in an unhappy relationship.
I'm not a social media person. Yes, I'm on here, but I'm only really here to post this. Other than Reddit, I have zero social media presence.
I'm also not an instant messaging person. I am witty and I love banter. IM seems to bring out my sarcastic and quippy side, which is a curse as it's detrimental with regards to actually getting to know someone.
My communication method of choice is emails. With emails you're able to convey mass amounts of information and details, without interruption, therefore, making the "getting to know you" process relatively quick.
If you want a Man who has manners, who is intelligent, monogamous, funny, classy, sophisticated and nurturing, feel free to initiate contact.
I'm deep, introspective, pensive and morose. I feel more at ease and happiest when I'm alone. I can barely tolerate people.
I would rather be by myself than be at a party or a gathering. If you want a people person and an extraverted and a social butterfly. Yeah... that isn't me, either.
Characteristics I'm seeking: sardonic, pensive, Intelligent, well read, classy, kinky, sophisticated, open minded, monogamous and with a certain Goth vibe. I have always had a thing for Goth types. Back in the day it was Morticia and Elvira, I suppose you can add Wednesday to the mix now that she's all growed up.
ABOUT ME: (Vanilla)
I'm a writer, and soon-to-be author (hopefully). One of my passions is cooking. I briefly trained as a Chef, which means that I'm a whizz in the kitchen! Wouldn't say that I'm a fully-fledged Chef, but I know enough to get by and not starve to death or get food poisoning... and die.
I'm a logophile. (No. It doesn't mean that I like logos. It means that I have an intense and inherit love of words. They even have the ability to get me horny) If you contact me, you have to have an equal passion for the written (or spoken) word. If you initiate contact with me and you only write a dozen words, I reserve the right to release the Kraken and/or ignore you. Probably both. (I know that I've said this twice now, but I really cannot stand messages that have no thought behind them.)
Oh. I also have a really sharp sense of humour. So, if you're sensitive or thin skinned, approach with caution.
I'm a deep thinker. I'm spiritual (NOT religious) and believe in the power of Chi. I believe in Ghosts, other worlds, multiverses and dimensions. I'm into meditation and self improvement and self analysis. I'm a free-thinker and tend to think independently from the masses. I naturally deviate from convention.
I don't conform. I'm unapologetically weird and different.
I'm not a people person. I can't stress that enough. I tend to connect better with "weird" people and people who deviate from "normality". I'm misanthropic and I tend to be on an entirely different page than the general populace. For that, I am eternally thankful.
I don't really care about distance. I mean, let's be honest, the chance of meeting a compatible soul is improbable as it is, if you restrict it by means of geography and location, the "improbable" becomes the "impossible". Besides, it's 2023, not 1723. Distances can be bridged with the aid of heavy machinery with wings.
So yes, I'm open to a long distance relationship, to begin with.
It takes a while to properly forge a strong relationship: It requires respect, trust, honesty, compatibility and communication. None of those things come easily or without dedication, conviction and time.
I'm a sapiosexual as well as a demisexual. I find intelligence very, very hot!
I'm an introvert. I'm private and I don't like being the centre of attention. In fact, I like to keep as far back from people and the spotlight as possible. My preference is to live in the shadows. My main aim in life is to become a Vampire... true story. Still working on it.
Movies: Fright Night 1 & 2, The Lost Boys, Barefoot in the park, Breakfast at Tiffany's, My Fair Lady, Casablanca, Jerry Maguire, Serendipity, Say Anything, Almost Famous, Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's day off, Weird Science, Elvira: Mistress of the dark, Elvira: Haunted Hills, Dirty Dancing, The Big Sick, Star Wars (The original trilogy), Firefly, Shadow of the Vampire, Interview with the Vampire, Dracula (1931).
Television: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, It's Always sunny in Philadelphia, Wednesday, Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Sex and the City, Family Guy, The Simpsons, Scrubs.
AuthoWriter: Jane Austen, Edgar Allen Poe, Bram Stoker, The Bronte Sisters, Emily Dickinson.
Music: The Smiths, The Cure, AC/DC
Honestly, I'm not a big music fan. I prefer classical music and score as they have the capacity to stir my emotions.
...and now the "Master" half of what makes me, me:
ABOUT ME: (Kink)
My form of Dominance is one of psychology.
It's my belief that before you can even hope to control the body, first you have to be able to control the mind.
I want to know how you think, I want to know how your mind works, what you love, what you like, what you hate and what you dislike. I want to know about your formative years, your upbringing, your parents, your family, etc.
In essence, I want to know everything about you.
Vanilla comes before kink.
As far as kink goes, I want to know about your experience as well as your dream dynamic. I want to know what turns you on, what your limits are and how willing you are to expand your horizons,allow me to break down your walls in order to replace it with different walls, but done with subtlety and skill.
The BDSMverse is all about growth. It's all about learning and maturing and both discovering new kinks, but also cultivating the kinks you already have.
This dynamic will be a living, breathing organism. It'll grow and develop and mature. It will be 24/7. It'll be all consuming and it will be a life choice.
At work you will be my submissive. At the supermarket and at the mall and out in public, you will be owned by me. Your every breath will contain a whisper that I own you. Every thought will contain a note that I control you.
It will be all encompassing.
You will be swimming in a fog of knowledge that your every thought, every feeling and every moment of your life is under my lock and key.
I want a relationship based on TPE. I'm not into "keeping it in the bedroom/behind closeddoors", as that sounds too much like roleplay.
You will learn from me, you will be taught, I will sculpt and mould and nurture you and train you to be the greatest version of yourself that you can be.
I'll listen. I'll be your teacher, your mentor, your confident, your protector as well as your best friend.
I cannot stress that enough, for a D/s dynamic to work, it has to be built on friendship. There must be trust and respect and communication and compatibility. Every cylinder must be firing
We will be a team. We will listen, talk and learn from the other. Our bond will be stronger than any metal or element known to Man.
Again, this isn't an easy connection to develop. It takes honesty, trust, communication and absolute dedication and faith. Come into this half-hearted, it will not work.
It also takes time. How much time? It will take as long as it takes. The vanilla connection must be forged, otherwise it's akin to building a house on quicksand.
My kinks: Watersports, fiscal Domination, Goth, taboo, rough skull-fucking, anal, CNC, rape play, bimbofication, food control, body modification, behaviour modification, body transformation, body modification, body writing, deepthroat, TPE, puke, chains, leather, outfits, DP (with dildos, etc), toys, edging, Vampirism (Hematolagnia), tasks, raceplay, DD/lg
I'm very open to taboo kinks, as well as extreme kinks. The chance of me being against a kink will be extremely remote.
Watersports is my number one kink, so, if you're genuinely turned on by watersports (Or even if you're curious) we could very well be a match.
Hard limits: Poly and scat.
Everything else is negotiable.
https://i.imgur.com/BrseERV.jpeg

STAND NAME:『The Blues』
STAND USER: Bruce Bluesky
Namesake: “The Birth of the Blues” by Sammy Davis, Jr.
Legal nickname:『Matter Hammers』
Ability type: Long Range
Form type: Artificial Humanoid
Special type: Colony
STAND STATS:
POWER: C. The Blues are so heavy they exert a great amount of force to the ground that’s enough to pin someone or break their bones. Their ability is also effective for destruction as it can be used to tear apart anything.
SPEED: E. The Blues are very slow and do not travel faster than 4 mph.
RANGE: A. The Blues can travel up to 300 meters from Bruce, while its ability has a 2 meter radius.
DURATION: B. As a long range Stand The Blues possess a high degree of stamina, able to remain manifested for long periods of time. The swapping is instantaneous.
CONTROL: A. The Blues have a fine control over their ability, able to swap, position, orientate, and bisect matter down to their very atoms.
POTENTIAL: B. Bruce has yet to master his Stand a and has a lot to learn about The Blues and their ability, as it's quite versatile.
User description: Bruce is a kindhearted boy defined by his positive view in life and optimism. Although a little misguided, he is always ready to lend a helping hand, and he goes out of his way to make sure that everyone is happy and content.
Despite this, Bruce has some maturing to do, as he has a tendency to put the needs of others before his own. He can be so focused on helping others that he forgets to take care of himself, and this leads to burnout and exhaustion for him. While his intentions are pure there are times where his purity blinds him of a person's flaws and shortcomings. For example, his ex.
When Bruce was 16 he fell in love with another freshman girl from his high school. After confessing his feelings to her, she decided to give him a chance and so their relationship formed. For the first few weeks everything seemed fine, they went out for dates occasionally and talked, but neither of them ever took it further. As time went on his girlfriend became more distanced and the relationship became more one-sided from Bruce’s side. When Bruce addressed this to her -at the park they went on one of their dates- his girlfriend appeared more confused than anything, instead blaming Bruce for saying that. Bruce tried to calmly explain it to her but she ignored him. Instead she stormed off in her car not before proclaiming their relationship is over. That night Bruce felt absolutely hopeless and washed with sadness. When he woke up and came to school the following day he was informed that his girlfriend had died in a car accident after she crashed into a lemon tree. After this he never properly griefed her death, instead trying to distract himself with helping others and be kind with them, like how he wished his ex was. A year later during the shooting of Rock Fall High School Bruce awakened his Stand just like the others. It was born from the accumulation of ultimate grief, heavy burnout, and of building others up. It was The Birth of The Blues.
Appearance: The Blues is a colony stand composed of two slender humanoid units. Both units look identical. They are blue in color and their arms and legs are slender. The hands are huge and extremely heavy club mallets while the head is a big rip hammer. Contained in the center of the head is a yellow gyroscope, exposed on the lateral sides of the head. Due to the weight of the mallets their backs are hunched and can barely lift their arms. Their feet are small dark gray spheres that can roll in any direction, but their weight decreases their speed.
Abilities: Due to their heavy mallets and uneven proportions, The Blues are not suitable for direct hand-to-hand combat. However, their abilities alleviate their lesser physical prowess by taking advantage of the immediate environment around them.
“Space Warping”: The Blues have the ability to displace sections of matter in a 2 meter radius of themselves or swap them with each other. They move around matter in short bursts, with any section that they’re about to affect reverberating and emitting small blue zaps of energy.
The Blues can not displace chunks of matter inside, into, or out of people. However, it can use the ability on their entire body in order to safely move them around their short radius or swap them with the other unit of the stand, working as teleportation. Matter that is in motion will teleport remaining in motion, and the same goes when it’s in rest. This allows Bruce to redirect projectiles that come inside the warp field or create its own projectiles by teleporting a chunk of matter up and letting it fall, repeating the process again until it reaches a desirable velocity. The Blues is so precise with their ability it affects matter down to the individual atoms, enabling him to put back the chunks of matter that were removed, placing them exactly where they were.
Bruce himself can also displace space in a 2 meter radius, and can swap matter with the two units. A good technique he learned to use is leaving a unit in a location and when he is far away summon the second unit and use each other’s warp field as a portal at the exact same time to teleport where the first unit is.

A nice little surprise for you all on a day of less pleasant surprises!
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First / Previous / Next
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Daniel sat on his bed as he looked at the neural patch Hannah’rah had given him earlier, wondering if she had used hers yet. He shrugged, stuck the patch to the nape of his neck, and laid down in his bed, staring at the underside of the bunk above him as an overlay appeared in his eyes. He waited a moment until he saw two completely sets of images in his eyes, at which point he then closed them. There was a slight moment of disorientation as he continued to see the new world despite his eyes being closed, and then his brain corrected things based on his former experience, and it no longer felt strange. As he began to move his hands around, he began to feel the slightly strange feeling as the signals were intercepted to prevent his limbs from actually moving while his eyes were closed, and he then took a moment to look at his avatar.
His real body had been recreated with high accuracy, including most of the exterior details of his prosthetic arm. He began to think about the time it must have taken for her to recreate this, and he began to wonder if the reason for her fatigue in the morning wasn’t solely because of her snoring roommate.
He began to look around, taking in the recreation of a small village in the Western part of Angland, filled by Elves. The forest surrounded it, but there were small breaks for the roads and rivers. He’d only been here a couple of times, but-
“Boo!”
Daniel turned around to see Hannah’rah smiling at him, standing in a traditional loose fitting long Elven dress. She had her fiery hair let down, and it and her dress blew in the faint breeze that he could feel simulated on his skin. For a moment, he felt like they were back in Angland, walking through the forest and petting herds of deer while watching Dragons soar above them.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” he asked, bringing her in for a hug.
“24 times now,” she smiled as she gestured for him to walk. “Anything you want to discuss, or should I start?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you miss being home?”
“Which home? England, or Angland?”
“Angland.”
“... Yeah, I do. There’s just something about that place that draws me in.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“I mean, kinda, but that’s just homesickness really. I of course want to go back eventually, but we’ve just managed to start seeing the rest of what’s around us. Do you?”
“... I would have liked to do a bit more before we left,” Hannah’rah admitted, sitting down on the edge of a bridge that overlooked a stream.
“Hmm, woulda liked more free time with you in public and whatnot, rather than just as your travelling partner,” he told her, sitting next to her.
“Yeah, but my Dad-”
“Please, let’s not get worked up over him now.”
“Right, sorry. It’s just that It’s going to be difficult to be together….”
“Please don’t ask that question again. Not now.”
“Sorry…. With any luck, he will come to his senses and see things the same way my Mum does, but I’m not holding out on hope right now.”
“'Ain't a lot we can do from here.”
“No, I suppose not,” she sighed.
“As always, I’m here for you.”
“I know, it was just difficult during basic. We couldn't really see each other and talk it through, and now I just feel like I need to dump it all somewhere now that I can.”
“You can if you want to.”
“I don’t. You don’t deserve to be hit with my family issues, and I’m just going to get worked up over my Dad. I brought you here to talk, and here I am dumping my problems on you.”
“It’s fi-”
“It’s not fine,” she cut him off. “Ugh, I wanted to have a moment, and I’m just going to ruin it at this rate.”
.-.-.
"Lieutenant Commander, your request has been completed," Affinity's voice came from outside the simulation.
"Perfect, thank you," Daniel replied, opening his eyes for a moment so his real mouth worked, before closing them again.
.-.-.
"Don't worry about the moment. We sparred earlier to relieve some stress, but we got cut short, so why don't we try something else?" he suggested, opening a menu with his hand and adjusting the settings. "Naval Marine 2150?"
"Won't be the same without everyone else…."
"I know," he smiled, joining a voice chat.
"Wait, what!? Hannah'rah? Daniel? You're online!?" a voice came out of nowhere.
"Hey, Xailin. Hey, everyone. We ain't exactly got a tonne of time, nor can we really do this again later, nor should we be doing this now to be honest, but we've got a Comms Gate to Earth, so we can play tonight!"
"Sweet! We can break our losing streak! Come on in!" Xailin told them, sending them an invite a moment later to join the group of their old university friends.
"But, how did you get that approved?" Hannah'rah asked Daniel, muting them for a moment.
"Affinity worked her magic. The comms gate was just sitting there on the station, active and underutilised, so I managed to push a request through for therapy."
"Therapy?"
"What? Wiping the enemy team is therapeutic, isn't it?" he asked, getting to his feet and offering her his hand. “Level 5 and above VIs have a therapist mode, and they can pull a few strings if they conclude it’s necessary.”
“There’s the Techboy I know,” she smiled as she accepted his hand, unmuting them and hitting join.
-----------------------------
Daniel dove for cover as his shield hit zero, managing to get behind a pillar before he took another hit from the pulse repeater the drone nearby was unloading on him. He plucked a magnetic grenade from his belt, armed it, and blindly tossed it roughly where the shots were coming from. He heated an explosion, followed by a second one when the drone impacted the ground. He then looked out of cover, confirming the drone's destruction, and then checked to see how the golden Dragon was getting on with the tank, realising that the torn up turret was already halfway down the street, and Xailin was just tearing it into chunks to, which quickly become cover destroying projectiles.
He looked up to see the enemy team's silver Dragon diving down on him, only for a missile to silently launch from the building Hannah'rah had gone into moments before. The missile impacted the enemy Dragon, and they were taken out of the fight, their body despawning before it hit the ground. Daniel used the momentary distraction to break from cover and cross the street, making it almost all the way before a machine gun lit him up, cracking his barely restored shield and bouncing a couple of rounds off of his armour before he reached his next piece of cover. There was a loud crack as Mark’rah took out the machine gunner with his 50mm rifle, and Daniel managed to push his momentary clearing to dive into the target building.
As he began to run up the stairs, he managed to make out a frantic scrabbling as his target prepared to run, which only confirmed which floor his target was on. He stopped and turned, facing directly towards the source of the noise, and began to charge, relying on his power armour to demolish the walls as he ran. He heard someone let out a small scream as he reached his destination, and brought his armoured fist down on his target, crushing the skull of the Dwarf and quickly forcing their body to despawn. He then quickly dropped down on one knee and picked up their uplink, inserting a datajack into the port. A few moments later, the holo display returned ‘Access Granted’, and he linked the enemy’s drones to his link, assuming full control over them. Most of the enemy team began to fall back and destroy their drones once they realised what had happened, knocking out around a quarter, but it wasn’t enough, and Daniel managed to wipe out almost all of the enemy team in seconds.
Daniel heard a noise nearby, and he quickly readied his SMG, only to see another power armour user running towards him through the hole he made. He raised his weapon and dumped the mag into them, breaking their shield but not penetrating their armour. He dropped his weapon and readied a grenade, but he was knocked to the ground before he could make use of it. The two of them began to roll around, fighting to lock the other down, but he was dismayed to find that his opponent was using premium power armour, and was therefore stronger and harder to shake off.
Cursing the poor game design, he decided to take the easy victory for his team, and primed one of the grenades still in his pouch. His opponent realised what was happening, and quickly pinned his arms down, allowing Daniel to headbutt him instead, but there was little effect on either of them. He then wove a leg between the enemies, and managed to make their footing slip when he straightened it. Pushing his advantage, he rolled them over and managed to get one hand free. He finished arming his last grenade, but his opponent managed to knock it from his hand before it went off.
Out of ideas, Daniel prepared to break away and head for a window where a drone could help, but before he could, an armoured fist slipped down past his head, and the tip of the large spike fixed to the attached arm touched the helmet of his opponent, causing it to deploy a sharp metal spear that pierced clean through their armour and skull. He looked up at the owner to see Hannah’rah, happy, but also slightly displeased.
“Yeah, I should have called for help,” he told her, knowing exactly what was coming.
“Knowing and doing are two different things. You do that on the job, and you won’t be able to know that you should have afterwards.”
“Thanks for the assist, though.”“You’re welcome, just please don’t try that grenade stunt IRL,” she pleaded.
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on it,” he assured her as she helped him to his feet.
“Well, that’s the game,” she told him, looking at the victory screen in front of her.
“Back to the lobby we go,” he replied.
The area around them quickly faded and brought them into an armoury with Xailin and Mark’rah, and the avatars of Casillia, Kilakthen, Stalika, and Ttragtum respawned.
“That was amazing!” Kilakthen exclaimed. “Hannah’rah, that Dragon kill! And Daniel, actually holding out against that BS OP power armour! How did you manage that?”
“The skill supplement system doesn’t have shit on real experience. It’s not flexible enough to deal with someone fighting competently without the system. Throw an atypical move at them, and it doesn’t know what to do,” Daniel explained.
“And since when was the Silent Striker so effective, Hannah’rah?”
“When I was trained to actually use it, or the real weapon it’s based on anyway,” she replied.
“I suppose you’ve both had your hands on the real stuff, haven’t you? You both know how to use everything effectively,” Xailin commented.
“Not so much me. I mean, I’ve had CQC training, but not heavy weapons,” Daniel replied, bringing in Hannah’rah for a hug. “My little arm breaker here on the other hand….”
“Arm breaker?” Casillia asked. “Hannah’rah, did you break his arm while sparring or something?”
“Not his, and I didn’t break any arms, just dislocated the shoulders of a few people who really didn't know when to stop,” she told her.
“Hannah’rah…” Casillia trailed off.
“What? Don’t tell me there’s never been a situation when you just want to punch an asshole in the face to make them go away.”
“Well, of course, but-”
“Well, I was ordered to fight them, so I did, and they didn’t tap out in time,” Hannah’rah shrugged.
“Anyway,” Xailin began, shaking his head. “Are you both up for another round?”
“Love to, but it’s getting late, and we’ve both got a busy day tomorrow,” Daniel apologised. “This will probably be the last time we see each other for a fair while.”
“How long?” Xailin asked.
“Sorry, we can’t disclose details of our mission,” Hannah’rah apologised.
“Ah, damn. Well, bring us all something cool back from another planet, would ya?”
-----------------------------
First / Previous / Next
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What? I already posted one extra episode.
You weren’t really expecting two, were you? You’ll get it tomorrow, as per the normal schedule.

M/59. I've been a binge drinker for decades. But in the latter years I'd reduced my consumption to 1 night a week, and I managed to quit hard liquor entirely. Beer was all I'd consume. My health and depression greatly improved.
But my life was stagnant, living in a tiny rural town with no transportation, and nothing productive to do with my time. So last November I flew across country to rent a place from a friend. Or so I thought of her as such.
Without going into too much detail, life here has been harsh. Rough living conditions. And lately conflicts between myself and this friend. Misery loves company right? Well she's a miserable alcoholic and seems drug addicted. She's making my life as miserable as humanly possible.
The stress combined with isolation, no social activities... has taken a heavy emotional toll. I fell off a cliff, and began drinking hard liquor daily.
5 months later, I'm in bad shape. I barely eat, don't hydrate much, and never sleep well.
As I type these words I am very light-headed, dizzy, and running a fever. My face feels puffy and I have a splitting headache. I'm sober atm but my hands are shaking. Could be low blood sugar plus caffeine, idk. I may be diabetic. I'm also losing my balance. Feel like I have vertigo. I can't walk more than a few hundred feet without losing my breath and feeling faint. Pushing a shopping cart is too hard to do, so I've taken to having most of my groceries delivered. There's a lot a pain in my groin and it hurts to urinate.
Oh and I slipped on sand while intoxed, fell down hard on my ass on concrete steps. Might have broken my tail bone. I'm in great pain and it's hard to stand up or walk.
In short I'm a mess and won't survive much longer if I don't stop drinking immediately. But I really need some support. Mostly coping with the loneliness, isolation, and being bullied by this woman who is trying to drive me off her property and on to the street.
Can anyone recommend no-cost online opportunities for emotional support, and help staying sober?
I'm stranded in a rural area with no car, friends or family. The only way I can get support would be online.
I am trying my best to relocate. I feel certain I can stay sober if I get into more stable housing. Somewhere tranquil, quiet, safe, stable. With running water. A toilet and shower. Clean drinking water. No fights or stress.
Idk if 5 months of heavy daily drinking is enough to make me physically addicted. I'm worried day 3 sober I might get DTs and go into shock.
Thanks for reading, and I would welcome DMs from anyone friendly and understanding. I will now try to force soup down to regain some strength. I'm so weak you could knock me down with a feather.
*edit: Reddit Legacy chat system seems to be having tech issues. They're redesigning the infrastructure. I'm unable to accept chat requests atm. Any suggestions for a workaround?

Willing to bundle for the items I want.
GT: MADDL007
——Weapons for trade——
AA/E/90 The Fixer {mule}
AA/FF1A 50 Cal Machine Gun {mule}
AA/FF1A Light Machine Gun {mule}
ARIS/FFFR 50 Cal Machine Gun
B/FF90 Alien Blaster
B/50crit/25 Crossbow {mule}
B/E/Stealth Lever Action Rifle
B/50vhc/15crit The Fixer {mule}
B/50crit/15crit Handmade {mule}
B/50crit/Stealth Handmade {mule}
B/50vhc/15crit Handmade {mule}
B/E/1A Handmade {mule}
B/LD/25 Handmade {mule}
B/E Gatling Gun (2 star)
B/DWA/25 Gatling Plasma
B/E Light Machine Gun (2 star)
B/40PA/90 Power Fist
Junkie/FFFR 50 Cal Machine Gun {mule}
MUT/FF25 Alien Blaster {mule}
MUT/E/25 10mm Submachine Gun {mule}
MUT/FSS/1S Cultist Dagger {mule}
Q/50crit/Stealth The Fixer
Q/E/90 The Fixer {mule}
Q/E/DRWA The Fixer
Q/50vhc/15crit Handmade
Q/E/FMSWA Handmade
Q/E/FR Handmade
Q/E/Stealth Handmade {mule}
Q/50crit/90 Laser Rifle
Q/E/Stealth 10mm Pistol {mule}
Q/E 50 Cal Machine Gun (2 star) {mule}
Q/E Gatling Gun (2 Star)
Q/E/1P Gatling Gun {mule}
Q/DWA/DRWA Pepper Shaker
TS/50crit/FMSWA Alien Blaster {mule}
TS/E/DRWA The Fixer
TS/E/90 Handmade
TS/E/DRWR Handmade
TS/FF15crit Plasma Rifle {mule}
TS/E/90 Pump Action Shotgun {mule}
V/50crit/25 The Fixer {mule}
V/E/1P The Fixer {mule}
V/FFBreak The Fixer {mule}
V/FFFR The Fixer
V/FFFR Ultracite Laser Rifle {mule}
Vampire’s Chainsaw (1 star) {mule}
Enclave Plasma Rifle #1 w/ Aligned Automatic Barrel, Stabilized Stock, Standard Sights
Enclave Plasma Rifle #2 w/ Automatic Barrel, Stabilized Stock, Reflex Sight {mule} x2 available
Enclave Plasma Rifle #3 w/ Stabilized Splitter, Stabilized Stock, Reflex Sight
Fancy Pump Shotgun AA/LD/DRWA
Fancy Revolvers: Assassin, Berserker, Executioner, Mutant x2, Troubleshooter x3
Dross, Pearly Peepers, Red Fireworks Mine, Troglocide
——Plans & Recipes for trade——
Plan: Assault Rifle {mule}
Plan: Backpack High Capacity Mod
Plan: Barbed Walking Cane {mule}
Plan: Bear Arm
Plan: Bear Arm Heavy Mod
Plan: Bear Arm Puncturing Mod {mule}
Plan: Camo Backpack
Plan: Hatchet Electro Fusion {mule}
Plan: Meat Tenderizer {mule}
Plan: Nuka World Cowboy Hat {mule}
Plan: Pepper Shaker
Plan: Scorched Queen Plushie {mule}
Plan: Sheriff’s Hat
Plan: Shielded Lining Marine Underarmor {mule}
Plan: Sledgehammer Heavy Searing Sharp Rocket {mule}
Plan: Tomb Stones
Plan: TV Aquarium {mule}
Plan: T-60 BOS Elder Paint {mule}
Plan: Ultracite Calibrated Shocks
Plan: Ultracite Emergency Protocols {mule}
Plan: Vintage Water Cooler {mule}
Plan: Western Mural {mule}
Recipe: Brahmin Burgers
Recipe: Caramel Mutfruit
Recipe: Cutting Fluid {mule}
Recipe: Formula P {mule}
Recipe: Fried Radroach On A Stick
Recipe: Fried Scorpion On A Stick {mule}
Recipe: Nuka Cola Dark {mule}
Recipe: Radscorpion Kebab
Recipe: Stimpak Diffuser {mule}
——Other items for trade——
OE/1S/SENT Excavator Left Leg
TroubleshooteAP/SENT Forest Scout Armor Right Arm {mule}
UNY/AP/Sneak Urban Scout Armor Left Leg {mule}
50K+ Ultracite 5.56 Ammo
All 8 Holotape Mini Games
All Non-Rare apparel available - just ask
Asylum Worker Uniform Pink
Hunter’s Long Coat
Enclave Plasma Gun Aligned Sniper Barrel Mod {mule}
Enclave Plasma Gun Severe Beta Wave Tuner Mod {mule}
Misc Items: ask me for my full list, duplicates are as follows - Bobby Pin Box, Sealing Agent, Solvent Attractant, Solvent Deterrant, Solvent Enhancer, Solvent Suppressor
———
———
——Items I want——
B/50crit/15crit Fixer
B/50crit/25 Fixer or Handmade
Q/E/25 Fixer or Handmade or Railway
V/40PA/40PA Chainsaw (Will consider other third star: prefer Break, 90rw, or any of the +1)
Baseball Bats Level 45: Indigo
Enclave Plasma Gun Aligned Flamer Barrel Mod (one or multiple)
UNY/AP/SENT Scout Armor Pieces
UNY/AP/WWR Forest Scout Armor Chest Piece, Left Arm
UNY/AP/WWR Urban Scout Armor Left Leg and Right Arm
Misc Items - let me know what you have
Asylum Worker Uniform Forest
Asylum Worker Uniform Red
Asylum Worker Uniform Yellow
BOS Jumpsuit
Fasnacht Brahmin Mask
Fasnacht Buffoon Mask
Fasnacht Crazy Guy Mask
Fasnacht Deathclaw Mask
Fasnacht Demon Mask
Fasnacht Fiend Mask
Fasnacht Hag Mask
Fasnacht Loon Mask
Fasnacht Raven Mask
Fasnacht Winter Man Mask
Forest Camo Jumpsuit
Forest Scout Armor Mask
Leather Coat
Prototype Hazmat Suit Level 50
Radicals Face Mask
Responder Fireman Helmet
Responder Fireman Uniform
Tattered Field Jacket
Traveling Leather Coat
Urban Scout Armor Mask
White Powder Jumpsuit
I’m really only after the items listed above, make me an offer. No caps, flux, or junk offers please.

Taking a few steps in she was now surrounded by various shades of blues, grays, and whites. The swirls and mixing of colors were pleasing to the eye, but she couldn’t stand around to admire them for long. She rushed down the tunnel passing scattered bodies all along the way until she found Four. He was standing idly by in a room which seemed odd for a man of his nature. “You good?” Thirteen queried as she stepped towards him. Four looked up at her as she entered, almost like he was dazed. “Yes,” he answered then paused before exiting the room. Thirteen stared as he walked past then back at the room. It was lined with what looked like rudimentary computers, so old she hadn’t seen one similar since her childhood in her father's laboratory. She took another step towards them to get a better look, only to make a loud thud as the sheer weight of her armor dented the metal floor below. “Hey, no,” Four said entering the room again. “I told Twenty I’d make sure you stay on task, so I’ve called in some techs from base who will look over all this stuff later”. Called in some techs from base? On a secure channel perhaps? Otherwise, she would’ve heard him call it in through their linked comms. All the details they wanted now made sense. “Is it really that big of a deal for me to analyze in the field?” she pleaded. “Obviously it is, that's not what Twenty ordered you to do” Four responded with a head roll and tossed up shoulders. “Actually, I was told to assist you in the tunnels,” Thirteen said with a smug face although she knew her attempt would be in vain. “Exactly, so come assist me in clearing them,” he said much more aggravated, and left the room. He never did like putting up with her. She could feel his hatred every time they were paired together. She looked one last time at the room and all the information it must be hiding. What a shame she thought. Now she’d have to wait for the report a week from now on what they were using all the junk for. There was still a part of her who wanted to investigate them, but she had to follow orders for her own sake. She wasn’t even supposed to have talked back about it in the first place. Just one of the many things she had to fix about herself. With a sigh, she followed Four out of the room and through the tunnels. They encountered some resistance, but not much. Slowly they made their way down to the ground floor, leaving death in their wake. A common theme she noticed when clearing rooms was their rigidity. Niviri homes were usually quite warm and soft, but these were straight and to the point. Simple weapon racks or bunks, no comfort in the slightest. These were definitely military tunnels which gave her extra peace of mind when putting craters through men. As they managed to secure the second floor, Twenty called in another strike from Night Jay. The weight of the explosion carried through the planet and shook both super soldiers' feet. “Things getting dire?” Thirteen asked as they approached the first floor. “Just a precaution” Twenty responded. With this in mind, Thirteen wanted to hurry things up. There had to be hundreds of combatants out there still and they were being relied on to stop any reinforcements. They approached the entrance to the first floor which was almost entirely a staging area. Possibly a hundred or more fighters all getting ready to assist the outside. Stocks of ammunition and weapons laid in crates as one another helped each other put on gear. Thinking quickly Thirteen turned to Four. “Give me your bandolier,” she told him and held out her hand. Four looked down at the hanging grenades attached to him and then at her. He initially didn’t budge and remained stationary while staring at her. She could feel his skeptical eyes for a long minute until he gave in. Slowly and apprehensively he unclipped it from his shoulder and handed it over. “Just follow my lead,” she said and turned on cloaking. “How am I supposed to do that when you’re invisible,” he asked mockingly to open air. She didn’t bother responding and clipped it to herself so it would get camouflaged as well. Anything close enough or hugging the suit would usually also become camouflaged, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Up this close, she grew a new hatred for the bandolier. It accented her armor horribly. Yellow and leather had no place to mesh well. Not with the white or black, or with the strands of teal. This new zeal aside, her next objective was to get as high as she could. In luck, she found a ladder leaning against one of the back walls. She put her rifle away on her back and hoped it wouldn’t break from her weight. Worry aside, she climbed as high as she thought it could hold and unclipped the bandolier. Then, methodically she armed all of them. With a hefty toss, the grenades along with the bandolier spread out among the men. The grandiose room of a hundred or more warriors fell quiet. The entirety of the room was silent, then it lit up with yellow and red. Now with a vantage point and plenty of easy targets, she gripped her rifle and made short work of all that remained. Four also came in to help with the cleanup, but there wasn’t much left for him to do. At the entrance, he asked for his Bandolier, but upon seeing her no longer with it he went quiet. “It was a necessary casualty”, she explained although he didn’t quite see it that way. She could tell he was fed up with her, but when he swung at her it was a big surprise. She dodged and ducked most of them until one landed on the cheek of her helmet. The impact broke the seal and tore at her ear as the helmet was lodged upward at an angle. Once the seal broke, the impact was then transferred to her face and collided with her cheekbone. She immediately lost grip of her rifle and fell to one knee to stabilize herself. Thirteen then sat there as Four grabbed his tattered treasure from under a body and left without a word. After a long moment, she raised her hand to her neck and looked down upon pulling it back. Blood, he had definitely got out all his resentment towards her in that one. She stood up and attempted to seal it once again, but couldn’t get it to go down far enough. With that in mind she left it as it was and retrieved her weapon before exiting the mountain. He knew exactly how to break her mood which was now in shambles. No one in the squad had ever swung on her before even saying that, however. She reconciled her emotions with the fact that she probably deserved it. When leaving the mountain, she expected to see an active war zone outside, but only found a dismantled town. “Night Jay you are free to leave us, air support is no longer needed” Twenty reported over comms. “Very well” a crooked and raspy voice answered. Thirteen watched as the dark mass took a sharp turn and sped in another direction, jets flared. The camp was now eerily quiet. The battle should have gone on for another half an hour at least with how many combatants were in the camp, but it was silent. “Is it clear?” Thirteen's mic crackled over comms. “Mostly,” Twenty said. “Everyone meet up in the center of the camp and then spread out for survivors” she ordered. Thirteen made her trek towards the center, passing countless torched or bullet-ridden tents. The body count on the way alone was enormous, many more than even she had first guessed. A sudden smell draped her as with a broken seal, her helmets filters could only block out so much. She stopped and squatted down to look closer at a large pile of dead. Most of their faces were covered by long hair and thick coats. She searched for weapons so that she could tell herself that they were armed. It really was a hunt and these innocents were the prey. Twenty’s whole plan of attack made so much sense now. All they had to do was box the camp side in. Aleace knew there wouldn’t be any survivors, but she didn’t know it would be like this. It was a necessary act she told herself, but there was still a pain that wouldn’t escape her. She eventually turned away and made it to the center. She was the last one to arrive and Twenty eyed her the whole way once she came into sight. When together she couldn’t manage to look at any of them. Not out of disgust for her squad mates, but out of disgust for herself. She was inferior, she wanted to serve SHOCK in all her dreams, but if she was in the position to serve like this, she couldn’t do what the others did. If she was in the position Eight was in, she knew she’d feel guilty at the least and fail to comply at the worst. When searching for survivors she couldn’t help but remove her helmet. It wasn’t allowed on an active battlefield, but she had to. She had to see it for herself, not through a filtered lens. The instant she twisted off the damaged headgear she could smell it. Blood, gunpowder, and death. Aleace dropped her helmet in that instant as well. No amount of the broken seal could have prepared her for that moment. It was such a rush of stimuli to all her senses that it was borderline overwhelming. She hadn’t cried in quite some time and yet it felt right here. Not because of any personal grief or sadness, but out of such overwhelming emotion. She still didn’t let a single tear escape her, however. It didn’t feel natural, it wasn’t a real reason for her to do so and so she didn’t. She continued searching for survivors, but really she was looking for answers. How could she manage to do what her squad mates did without hesitation? She was pushing aside the flap of a tent when she saw movement. Her instincts flared and she raised her gun. A survivor, short and with long brown hair. She contemplated pursuing immediately but decided it best to check the tent she came from in case there were others. Cautiously she approached the tent and opened it quickly. With her weapon raised she had no target. The only thing that lay inside was the deceased. A man and woman brutalized with a combat knife. It wasn’t pleasant seeing how big of a hole an Executioner with a combat knife could make in someone, let alone innocents. Aleace exited the tent in contemplation if she’d feel worse if it was her who killed them compared to how it felt seeing them in that state. Pushing the invading thoughts aside she had to catch up with the girl which wouldn’t be hard. In no time she was on the outskirts of the camp running at full speed. Jumping over bodies and fallen trees alike she found the girl. Running down a snow-covered slope towards a shallow and lightly frozen river. Aleace found a flat spot and knelt on one knee. Her eye in the iron sights she yelled for the girl to stop although it came out less as an order and more as a plea. The only thing this did was turn the girl's head to look back at Aleace who she immediately spotted. While Aleace spotted the true her through her eyes. Eyes that told a story. A story of total fear, her previous memories clouded by death and despair. Her rifle slowly lowered away from the target on its own. Aleace’s mind went blank with questions, none of which she could answer. Not a moment later she turned the nob on her rifle to its max setting, took aim, and fired. The girl's body tumbled the rest of the way down the hill without the eyes that spoke of fear. She now sat with her rifle resting on her knee, looking out at the mountains she’d seen a million times. She would have died in the wilderness anyway she told herself. You made it as painless as it could be she also said to herself, but it was very much painful to Aleace. She stood up with a guilty sigh and slid her rifle onto her back. She couldn’t believe she hesitated for a moment, that’s not something any of the others would do. As she thought that, a familiar figure started to take shape out of nothing which made Aleace visibly jump. Holding out her helmet towards her was a white engraved arm with black highlights. Lifeless blue-tinted glass stared at her without a word, waiting for her to take it. With almost shaking hands she accepted the helmet but didn’t put it back on instead, Aleace held it out in front of her awkwardly. Twenty hadn’t uttered a word before she took it and it seemed she wasn’t going to after. The only thing that changed was Aleace’s regret-filled face. Twenty took a few steps towards the village and said “SHOCK expects better of you” in her usual smooth and callous voice. It took a moment for those words to sink in, but when they did they crushed her utterly. For the first time in a long time, Aleace could feel real tears running down her cheeks. All she wanted was to serve SHOCK like her father, but she had failed that dream at that moment. It didn’t matter that she took the shot since it had already been tainted with hesitation. SHOCK required perfection among them especially, but she couldn’t reach that. She did so many things a soldier wasn’t supposed to do and only gnawed at fixing them. By the time her tears subsided she noticed Twenty was gone, likely cloaked herself, and left. She could hear people talking through comms in her helmet as she cried, probably calling for evac. She still wouldn’t put it on, however. Not when she walked through by technicality a battlefield. Not when she met up with her fellow squad mates where even Four stared at her. Certainly not when they boarded the StrikeRaptor where Eight sat peeling away at his paint. Or when they left the craft to go inside base. She now understood the whole thing. It was all planned from the beginning to keep her in the dark. They knew she wasn’t like them and couldn’t handle it. That’s why she was the only one not briefed and the only one who wasn’t told about the non-combatants. She accepted her shame for being so weak as to take off her helmet. She knew there would be some kind of punishment that she couldn’t get away from even if she had put it back on. Twenty would end up telling someone no matter what, but that didn’t bring her spirits down. They were already as low as they could get. She knew she could do better in the future. Next time she would take the shot the moment she had the chance and so the cycle repeated.

Virgil Smith, Jacquelin Fazzio, Andrew Cash, Robert Sagan, Lee Cooper, Richard Celli, Casey Hallinan, Michael King, Mark Azzouni, Mark Essick, Sharon Loughner, Sonoma County, The State of California, Juan Campa, The United States, the FBI, the DOJ, David Kahl, Jill Ravitch, Lupe Zinzin, Janell Crane, Lynda Hopkins, Robert Pittman, Joshua Myers, David Ratner, Carla Rodriguez, the Brady List, Melissa Wiekel, Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers, Donna M. Ryu, Melissa Parmenter, Rafael Garcia, Azuzena Alvarez, Sergio/Sergey Rudin, Tamar M. Burke, The Federal Pro Bono Project / the Justice & Diversity Center, Abby Herzberg, RoseMarie Maliekel, Gloria Chun, Antonia More,
I just want people to know that the Sonoma County government is corrupt. They spent 186 million dollars on a "new courthouse" that is 163k square feet, which works out to $1,100 per square foot, which is over double the second most expensive building I could find was, and over four times the average price per square foot of palaces and museums. And it's just going to look like a giant portable. This is to house some of the most corrupt people in this County, who all make $200-350+k per year (I am including their benefits in that, but not their pension). The entire DA's Office has a vendetta against Civil Rights in general, and will literally knowingly commit criminal violations of laws for the purpose of covering up serious criminal misconduct on the part of Sonoma County employees.
Lynda Hopkins took money from the law enforcement unions, and turns a willfully blind eye to it.
The County Office of Legal Counsel is literally a crime syndicate.
In 2015, the Sheriff's Office had a veritable torture ring in the jail.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izcHIv5Y4z8
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYrGChrW5HM&list=TLPQMzAwMzIwMjMv0QAOPDy1Lw&index=2
This is just the tip of the iceberg. They lied about the existence of these videos, and "lost" the one where they gave one of the inmates internal bleeding, with a knee to their back.
There was a lawsuit about it. It was called the "Yard Counseling Case". There are news articles about it.
There was an official, written policy, called "Yard Counseling", later its name was changed to "Behavior Counseling" which dictated that for arbitrary punitive measures, Sheriff's Office personnel should extract inmates from their cells individually (which meant slamming their heads onto the door frames on the way out and other abuse), and isolate them, and putting them into "pain compliance" techniques (literally, by definition, torture) for extended periods of time while "counseling" them, which meant wearing no name tags, ski masks and riot gear, carrying a shotgun with them, and insulting them in explicit language for over 20 minutes.
This official written policy was acknowledged by Rob Giordano in a video, where he lies that no inmates where injured, uploaded to YouTube in 2018, when they finally addressed this official written policy, and the practice of torturing inmates without reasonable cause (leading exercise routines, for example).
In 2021, they saw one of the victims of this torture ring, who had sued them and had won, at a peaceful protest, and shot him with a grenade launcher while hiding on a rooftop in the face with a crowd control grenade, which exploded on impact and caused horrific injury that I don't care to describe.
In 2017, I was almost killed by application of a "carotid hold" / lateral vascular neck restraint, by a sheriff's deputy, for literally no reason. A knee was placed on my lower back while I was on the ground on my stomach as well, which caused a serious injury to my kidney, which was the worst injury of my life. I have also been diagnosed with an organic brain injury and cognitive impairment. I was tested for the same type of cognitive impairment before the incident and there is a marked difference, and I have about 30 pages describing the differences I've noticed / troubles I've had in my cognitive functioning. There was no probable cause to arrest me, and I was polite and compliant with all the instructions given to me, and this was confirmed by witnesses. I was punished for invoking my right to remain silent, then my arm was grabbed and yanked up behind me, and then a carotid hold was applied because my body pivoted after the deputy grabbed and yanked my arm.
This occurred UNDER A CAMERA and IN FRONT OF WITNESSES. I called the Sheriff's Office the next day said I want to "make an official complaint in writing". I was transferred to Captain of Internal Affairs, Captain Mark Essick. I repeated my request, verbatim. He responded, verbatim: "We don't do that. Why don't you tell me what happened." I did. I told him it happened right under a camera. He said "The camera can't record." I asked for confirmation. He said the cameras "Don't have recording technology installed."
I asked the County for a claim form. They ignored my request, and instructed me to report the incident to IOLERO. IOLERO requested I meet with Internal Affairs, and I said fine.
Sgt. Andy Cash called me and scheduled me for a meeting at the Sheriff's den. I was made to walk first and guided upstairs to a meeting room, and then patted down for weapons, and the interview was recorded. For 75 minutes I was deposed about happened. He asked me repeatedly about my mental state after the incident. I admitted that I was upset after the incident, and he acted like that justified the whole incident. He explicitly promised to interview the 4 deputies who witnessed the event in addition to the 2 deputies who participated, as well as the arresting officer (who I told him would confirm that I was polite and cooperative), which he agreed "would confirm [my] demeanor", and a bystander witness I told him about.
I complained to IOLERO director Jerry Threet. Mr. Threet agreed that that was inappropriate, then resigned without reviewing the investigation.
For about 4 years review of the investigation was put on hold because IOLERO staff quit, and when more staff was hired, they complained of being understaffed. They had a budget of over a million dollars but only had 2 employees. They only reviewed one case per four months. And they put off "backlogged" cases and focused on new cases. My complaint was finally reviewed by Interim Director Garrick Byers who clearly stated that the investigation was not conducted appropriately. I have the letter from him. That still has never been made public.
After the interview with Internal Affairs, I corresponded with Lynda Hopkins, and she refused to give her opinion on the matter. I specifically complained that the carotid hold was being used recklessly, and it is a dangerous technique. This was in 2018. She forwarded me to Janell Crane, who then had me meet with Kristi Schultz.
I contacted the DA's Office and spoke to Richard Celli (who made $346k in 2017, and has gunned down two unarmed people, and was convicted by a jury in one of the civil cases brought against him by one of the victim's family, but the sentence was overturned by a judge, while working for the SRPD). The first time I spoke to Mr. Celli, he told me that another law enforcement agency should take my case. After that first time, him and the rest of the DA's Office openly refused to comply with the Victims' Rights Laws (CA Con Art. 1 S. 28), and the "policies" (which are legally binding under CA Con Art 5 S. 13) of the Attorney General stating clearly that they are to take complaints from victims if it can't be resolved with the department.
After the first talk with Mr. Celli, I called Rohnert Park Police as I was instructed, and they 3-way called the Sheriff's office and then transferred me. I spent about 30 minutes reporting the incident to a deputy, and he asked me questions in a fair manner. The incident report from the 30 minute phone call was "directed" to Andrew Cash, and was then destroyed, which is literally a state and federal crime. I called RPPD back and talked to the arresting officer and he positively clearly confirmed that I was "polite, calm, compliant, and cooperative" (or something nearly verbatim, I can't remember exactly any more).
Andrew Cash called me the next day, at precisely 7:00 AM. He told me he was driving. He was extremely confrontational with me. He said "There were 6 deputies [referring to the two who used excessive force on me, and 4 witness deputies]. You were combative." This was false. He had only interviewed one of the 4 witness deputies, and the other 3 had provided written statements. They said that they had witnessed force being used, that they had not participated in the use of force to the best of their memory, and that I "did not appear to be resisting". But again, he had promised explicitly to interview the 4 deputy witnesses, and the arresting officer, and the other witnesses (such as the bystander witness who saw the whole incident, the nurse, etc.).
Internal Affairs exonerated the officers. The letter was signed by Eddie Engram, captain of Internal Affairs at that time. I called Mr. Engram, and had an hour long conversation with him, and he told me to contact Sgt. Cash after April 1st.
I filed a federal claim on the last day that it was due.
Mr. Cash referred me to Legal Counselor, Kara Abelson.
Ms. Abelson spent a year and a half refusing to comply with the Public Records Act, the Rules of Procedure, and the Rules of Professional Conduct. She refused to provide me documents that I was entitled to under law, including the incident report written by Deputies Jacquelin Fazzio and Virgil Smith, and the recorded interviews that he promised he would conduct, and stated pretty clearly that he had conducted.
Kara Abelson spent a year and a half trying to claim that my federal complaint was time barred by 1 day when it wasn't. The judge (Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers) entertained this and forced me to respond SEVEN TIMES, before she finally admitted that the "law wouldn't allow [her] to dismiss [my] complaint".
After a year and a half, Kara Abelson finally withdrew from the case after I started citing the Rules of Professional Conduct to her that require her to resign or withdraw from the case rather than defend a civil case where defense isn't warranted. Nobody had disputed any of the allegations I had made. In fact, Eddie Engram had confirmed that what I said happened was not disputed by the evidence.
At some point around this time, either before or after Ms. Abelson withdrew, the 2 incident reports written by the two deputies, the written statements by 3 of the 4 witness deputies, and the recorded interviews with me, the 2 deputies who assaulted me, and 1 of the eye witness deputies, were provided, along with various other records from the facility. In the recorded interview, and the incident report, the deputies admitted that Virgil Smith had applied the carotid hold.
I had also reported the incident to the State Attorney General Public Inquiry Unite (Lupe Zinzin). She had told me, over and over and over, that the local DA's are required to take complaints from civilians in these situations. She refused to call the DA's Office, though. The DA's Office (Richard Celli, Mark Azzouni, David Kahl, and the anonymous receptionists who all refused to provide their names) refused to take a complaint from me. They (including the receptionists) hung up on me every time I called after no more than 2 minutes, for no reason, transferred me to dead lines, never returned any voicemails I managed to leave, told me explicitly that if I send a complaint, they will throw it away, and didn't care, at all, what the laws were. The receptionists also refuse to provide their names. The Attorney General's Office told me to send them a complaint, so I did. The DA's Office acknowledged receiving the complaint. But later said that they did not have a record of it, meaning they threw it away.
The Attorney General's Office finally agreed to take a complaint from me. It sat on their desk for a year. I finally called them, concerned that evidence was being destroyed, and left a voicemail for Casey Hallinan requesting that they request copies of the physical evidence from the Sheriff's Office. Literally 2 days after that voicemail, a letter was sent to me signed by Sharon Loughner with Casey Hallinan CC'ed on the letter, stating that they would "take no action", and blamed the incident on me. I had not received the letter though, and called and spoke to Ms. Hallinan, who was extremely rude. After that, the Attorney General's Office hang up on me as soon as they find out it's me, for no reason. There has since been a bystander witness who saw the whole thing, and it has come to light that the cameras did record, that no upgrades were ever performed like Ms. Abelson alleged, the cameras do continuously record (as of 2019), and they just lied through their teeth about the camera for 4 straight years. The Attorney General's Office does not care. They violate the laws, and do not care what the laws are.
Sonoma County Office of Legal Counsel attorney Michael King took over after Ms. Abelson withdrew. Right off the bat, Mr. King told me that my motions were deficient - a contention he has repeated frequently, since then. I asked him how. He changed the subject, and to this day has NEVER given any explanation as to how any of my motions are deficient.
He continued to claim that my claim was time barred, filing frivolous motions, in blatant violation of the rules of professional conduct, after I cited the rules to him, constituting explicit legal misconduct.
As I said, the judge finally agreed to open Discovery after a year and a half of full time work trying to fight for my right to not be nearly murdered for no reason.
Lawyers do not take these cases unless there is undeniable proof of blatant guilt, along with undeniable proof of catastrophic injury. Multiple law firms have confirmed that it takes over a million dollars worth of legal work to get these cases to trial.
The judge also promised me a pro bono attorney "if you make it past summary judgment".
The judge scheduled us for Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) hearing with a magistrate judge. Mr. King elicited an offer from me, which I spent about 2 weeks working on, trying to make it as agreeable as possible. But then for the hearing, his written offer was to waive charging me his attorneys fees. The ADR magistrate confirmed that there was no legal basis for him to do that - it would be illegal. He had been ordered to participate in this hearing, and there was a legal obligation under the Rules of Procedure to try in good faith to settle the case. He violated the order and the rule of procedure (26 (f)).
All of my motions were completely ignored for no reason.
Mr. King / Defendant Virgil Smith lied about the cameras. They said "Denies the existence of cameras capable of recording in the vicinity", in writing, under oath. They never disputed that he put his knee on top of my back with all his weight on it.
Mr. King refused to comply with his Discovery obligations. I had to file about 4 different motions pertaining to their refusal to comply with the laws regarding disclosure of evidence.
Upon receiving an official Discovery request for records of camera equipment, I received a letter signed under oath by Mr. King (nearly 4 years after the incident) stating that the cameras CAN RECORD. But stating "tasks must be performed" to start the recording function, and stating that all records pertaining to the equipment that was installed at the time HAD BEEN DESTROYED (literally a federal and state crime, a civil tort violation, and a sanctionable act of legal misconduct).
Mr. King refused to schedule any of the witnesses for deposition, demanded MY deposition BEFORE he would even schedule the two deputies who assaulted me, even though I had been requesting depositions with other witnesses for over a month, and refused to schedule anyone else, he refused to answer interrogatories, he refused to provide copies of the policies from the time of the incident. He tried to pass off a weird spreadsheet with the word camera on it as proof that upgrades had been done to the cameras. He refused to provide complete training records for the deputies. He refused to provide details about the training. He refused to provide blueprints of the facility, refused to provide photos of the cameras at the location, refused to provide still images showing which direction the cameras were pointing, was caught lying under oath (and "penalty of perjury") multiple times, refused to provide photos of the deputies so I could schedule depositions efficiently.
The judge erroneously dismissed my Equal Protection claims, construing them as Due Process and Employment Discrimination claims, which are different types of claims than Equal Protection claims against a government actor. The government cannot arbitrarily treat anyone disparately. The Court also dismissed my "Monell" claim against the municipality for their "policies, customs, or practices", but left me leave to amend that claim. And she waited until Discovery opened over 1.5 years into litigation, to do this, forcing me to amend the complaint DURING DISCOVERY which was only open for a limited amount of time, instead of any point in the 1.5 years prior to that.
In the recorded interview with Andrew Cash and one of the witness deputies, she spontaneously states that Mr. Cash instructed her to review the written statements made by the two deputies who assaulted me prior to the interview. Another deputy witness confirmed that Mr. Cash had instructed her to review the written reports by the two deputies who assaulted me prior to her providing Mr. Cash with a written statement as well.
The judge finally retaliated against me, without rational basis, for filing motions, which I had filed because I was being illegally obstructed from preserving evidence, by withdrawing leave to amend regarding the "Monell" claim (I had stated a clear Monell claim to begin with, but the judge literally has an aversion to reading, and relies on guessing, and is biased against pro se litigants; I am summarizing well over 100 pages, if not well over double that, of motions, objections, and replies and the judge's responsive orders).
She did however, finally schedule a hearing with a Discovery referee magistrate. All my motions (and the months of work I was required to do dictated by the various rules) was completely disregarded, and both me and Mr. King were given 2 pages each (double spaced) to go over discovery issues, even though I had filed about 4 different motions about various issues, and he hadn't filed ANY, about Discovery issues, and never did.
During conference I was required to do in accordance with the Rules, Mr. King repeatedly tried to establish that I had committed crimes during the course of conferring which was my legal obligation, without having any rational basis to believe what he was trying to establish. He demanded evidence that would exist, and he kept repeating every lie he could come up with to the judge. The judge would either get annoyed at me if I addressed any of Mr. King's baseless accusations, or take his statements at face value for being 100% true.
Mr. King finally "compromised" and agreed to schedule depositions with me (as long as Mr. King wanted to) and the two deputies who had assaulted me (for 25 minutes each or something) all simultaneously, but refused to schedule anyone else, even though this was grossly advantageous to him, and in blatant violation of Rule 26 of Civil Procedure. One of the eye witness deputies later confirmed that he had "consulted" her over 4 times prior to the trial. During this deposition, Mr. King asked me where a family member of mine works. He had spent about 30-40 minutes trying to convince me that I can tell him anything, that the entire record was designated confidential, that I had nothing to worry about - and at a deposition, you are obligated to answer the questions unless they are harassing. Mr. King also requested contact information for counselors from over 10 years ago, and that was the only question I didn't answer - I told him to provide the request in writing. At some point after that, I told Mr. King to not contact my family member at her workplace, and Mr. King responded "unless you fully and completely cooperate" with his request for contact information for counselors from 10 years+ ago, he would do exactly that - harass my family member with subpoenas sent to her workplace, as I had requested he not do, without EVER REQUESTING A DEPOSITION WITH HER, just using it as leverage.
At the hearing, the Discovery Magistrate (Donna M. Ryu) discussed matters only with Mr. King, without including me. He told her that the 4 eye witness deputies "saw nothing" and "weren't there" (verbatim) trying to get her to deny me my request to take their deposition. She asked him if he would get them to sign fresh "sworn declarations", "under oath" (Judge Ryu's words, verbatim) stating this. Mr. King said yes, absolutely, he would. Judge Ryu asked me "Would that be okay?" I said "No." She started laughing, and asked me why, and I explained that I had explicitly described various interactions with them that had taken place while the carotid hold was still being applied to me, and that they had stated in their written statements that they had witnessed force being used, and that I was "not resisting". She confirmed that this was all true with Mr. King and that he already knew all of this, and ordered him to cooperate with scheduling them for deposition. Mr. King then repeated the same phrases "saw nothing", "weren't there" to Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers prior to the trial.
After that, they went back to discussing matters only with eachother, and I was excluded from discussion. This was an hour long hearing, and at about the 45 minute mark, Mr. King was again lying to the magistrate judge, and when he had finished, I interjected, "That's not true". Judge Ryu shouted "Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop!" And then very assertively explained to me the importance of not interrupting people for the convenience of the court reporter / transcriber. I was excluded from the rest of the hearing.
At some point at either this hearing or the next one, I cited the legal requirement for the parties to disclose contact information for witnesses. I cited the rule of procedure. Judge Ryu responded, "Mr. King is a lawyer!" as if that alone justified his refusal to provide me contact information for EYE witnesses who saw the event. Mr. King and Ms. Abelson had also claimed that they did not have the contact information for the bystander witness (which was a lie), and refused to provide the contact information for the nurse. And when Magistrate Ryu ordered them to provide that, they only gave me the company name he used to work for.
Mr. King refused to provide both fresh written statements from the eye witness deputies as he had promised the magistrate, and to schedule them for deposition, and stated that if he provided written statements, they would be copied and pasted versions of the same statements previously provided, signed under oath (nowhere saying that they "saw nothing" or "weren't there").
Mr. King kept threatening to go to my family member's workplace unless I provided him contact information for counselors from 10+ years ago, DURING a DEPOSITION, without him providing any written request for the information.
He also interfered with scheduling the witnesses for deposition, with the Court reporter that I had hired, disregarded the schedule that I had set, and set them according to his own schedule, which raised the cost of deposition from an estimated about $700 to about $4,000, and said this was my one and only chance.
The Federal Pro Bono Project / the Justice & Diversity Center is an organization that receives seven million dollars a year in public funding and is under contract with the Federal District Court to work with the Court to provide legal consultation to pro se litigants. I had about 19 appointments with them, about 18 with Abby Herzberg, and 1 with Rosemarie Maliekel. Ms. Herzberg was precisely 15 minutes late to every single appointment, repeatedly gave me horrible advice ("just wait", do nothing, "don't file this", despite admitting that the entire motion was valid, directly causing excessive delay and the spoliation of crucial evidence). She also yelled at me aggressively on two occasions because I had brought up state laws, which were being currently violated against me, because the Court had dismissed my "state claims" because Sonoma County refused to supply with a state tort claim form when I first asked, reasoning that was not relevant to the state laws being currently violated against me. After Ms. Herzberg yelled at me the second time, I requested an appointment with Rosemarie Maliekel. Ms. Maliekel spent the entire appointment ranting at me about irrelevant issues, and kept talking over me and interrupting me. I was polite but eventually asked "can I finish what I was saying?" She responded "No!" and kept ranting at me.
I had repeatedly asked about how to properly get medical evidence, and about expert witnesses. Ms. Herzberg ignored my questions and spent nearly the entirety of almost every single appointment reading (or pretending to) through the rules, without letting me speak at all, even to summarize the relevant sections of the rules that I had read.
On a video on their webpage (on the Court's website, because they are a "partner project" with the Court), Abby Herzberg explicitly demonstrates a clear understanding of the fact that the Court provides funding for expert witnesses, despite ignoring my questions about that and spending nearly the entirety of almost every single appointment either reading rules or pretending to.
Discovery was closed.
Mr. King rehashed the legally baseless and frivolous "time barred" claim in a Motion for Summary Judgment. I was required to respond to it twice, and it was obvious Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers wanted to dismiss my claim, and I was required to disprove their baseless legal claims with several tens of pages of case laws. I was required to answer all his "undisputed material facts" under threat of terminating my entire case, but he refused to answer mine. He lied over and over to the judges. As I said, the judge ruled that the laws "wouldn't allow [her] to" dismiss my entire case and rejected his Motion for Summary Judgement.
The Court ordered the Federal Pro Bono Project (FPBP) to put me on a list for attorneys seeking clients. Ms. Herzberg told me that if I filed any motions, that the FPBP would not cooperate with the Court's order, until 1 month before my trial, instead of 6 months before. She also said that a law firm had reached out to them about my case over a month prior to that, and that the staff at the FPBP had not followed up. My filing privileges were then revoked by the Court.
An attorney, David Ratner, reached out to me, and scheduled an initial consultation, over Zoom, at which he stated he "hates cops", and gave a showing of being enthusiastic. I explicitly told him that I wanted to make sure we were on the same page as far as what to "aim for". I told him that I had been working for FIVE YEARS, that I had almost died, that I had suffered two different extremely serious injuries (though I was up front about the injuries being surreptitious and that there had been major delays and flaws with medical evaluation, due to the hospitals not taking my insurance at the time, and ongoing delays because of Covid, and other reasons). I told him that what I asked for was consistent with the most similar case (the Esa Wroth case of 2013) that I knew of (an ask of three million dollars). This was coincidental. I was not aware of the Esa Wroth case when I came up with that number. I agonized over the number to ask for, and had tried SEVERAL times to resolve the case for a tiny fraction of that amount, with Kristi Shultz, with Janell Crane, with Lynda Hopkins, several times with Ms. Abelson who refused to even hear me out, and SEVERAL TIMES with Mr. King, and spent a lot of time trying to come up with a amount that would be MUTUALLY AGREEABLE, EACH TIME and described the methods I used to come up with that number in detail in court documents. Mr. Ratner explicitly agreed to aim for that at the trial. During the Zoom conference, his partner Shelley Mollineaux, showed up about 15 minutes late, stayed for about 3 minutes without saying anything, Mr. Ratner made an awkwardly flirtatious remark to her, and she left without saying anything at all.
Mr. Ratner, and Ms. Mollineaux, who was set to represent me at trial under Mr. Ratner's supervision, then both went dark for over a month. They ignored my emails, voicemails, and messages that I left with their receptionists. There was a hearing, and then Mr. Ratner emailed me demanding "all the documents" that I had. I had over 50 gb of files across thousands of files, and spent about a month working with his paralegals sending them batches of files, and providing all the information they asked me for. Mr. Ratner forwarded me an email from Mr. King where King accused me of violating a court order regarding providing medical providers and the physical addresses of my entire family and my friends, which was false -- the Court had ordered me to provide him CONTACT information, at a second hearing, which wasn't significant, and I had fully and completely complied in good faith with all the Court's orders. Mr. Ratner accused me of not sending him "anything", after I had spent at least several weeks with his paralegals sending them batches of files and information, and he simultaneously threatened to ask the judge for leave to withdraw.
There had been major delays with medical evaluation due in large part to Covid, as well as delayed discovery of brain injury, which is very common, and other factors.
With trial set, Mr. Ratner forwarded me an offer from Defendants for $5,000. Upon discussion (which was 100% in email because he refused to talk over the phone and Ms. Mollineaux completely ignored me), he accused me of not doing Discovery right. I pointed him to the video I referred to earlier, which I had found since Mr. Ratner took my case, but wasn't aware of when I was interacting with the FPBP, where the FPBP (Abby Herzberg), and various District Judges from the Court I was litigating in, state that it is general policy (and it is official policy under the Court's General Order 25) to REOPEN DISCOVERY when a pro bono attorney comes onto the case, and to FUND DEPOSITION AND EXPERT WITNESS FEES.
Mr. Ratner stated he "won't file any motions" and ultimately elected to withdraw from the case over fulfill his legal obligations under the Rules of Professional Conduct. Judge Gonzalez Rogers IGNORED MY REQUEST FOR A HEARING, and in her order granting him leave to withdraw about 2 months before my trial, thanked him. I had spent a ton of time trying to find private attorneys and trying to talk to the FPBP, telling them very clearly that I expected to be put back on the list.After Mr. Ratner withdrew, the FPBP refused to put me back on the list. I was forced into trial BY MYSELF, at 1-2 months prior to trial, after 3 months of my time being completely wasted by Mr. Ratner and his law firm.
I went through the appropriate legal process to submit an expert witness. Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers, as usual, completely ignored my motions, but allowed me to use him after I went through the entire legal process, and paid him thousands of dollars without knowing if I would be granted permission or not, and provided the Court a report stating that the carotid hold was ILLEGAL unless the subject exhibited "assaultive behavior" and that Defendants had never alleged any behavior of mine that constituted "assaultive behavior" (under POST Basic, during 2017). The expert was a Master level instructor at a police academy and former SWAT.
Mr. King provided his pre-trial disclosures, and it contained a document from Rohnert Park police department which had been extensively redacted on the copy that they had provided to me. The new copy contained the contact information for the bystander witness. I called him, and he confirmed that he saw the entire thing, that I had never yelled at the deputies before the first deputy grabbed my arm, and that I was not resisting at any point in time. I told the judge this. She had me call him at a hearing, and both me and Mr. King were allowed a couple of minutes to ask him questions, where he refused to admit that I was even "wiggling" when Mr. King badgered him.
RPPD later sent me the email correspondence between them and Mr. King and Mr. King clearly stated that he had that copy in his records without them sending it, but wanted them to send it to appear official, meaning they had the contact information for the bystander witness the entire time, when they repeatedly lied that they didn't have it.
The judge then refused to allow him to appear at the trial over Zoom (during the height of Covid, even though she let one of the deputies), and refused to summon him to the trial.
Just prior to the trial, the Judge accused me falsely of firing my attorney, and explicitly prohibited me from telling the jury about ANY of the Defendants previous statements about the camera's ability to record (that they had lied about it for 4 years). She explicitly prohibited me from submitting scientific evidence about the carotid hold. She allowed Mr. King to make extremely defamatory false remarks about me and my past which had a huge impact on the jury's perception of things. At a pretrial hearing, we had gone over about 110 documents that I wanted to present at the trial. She vetted about 40 as admissible at the hearing, but at the trial she only let me submit about 4. Defendants were allowed to submit a SECOND expert witness, both of whom worked for the Sonoma County Sheriff's Office. The first was Andrew Cash. The second was James Naugle who had been disclosed literally a week before trial, without a report, and without allowing me to take his deposition. She refused to allow me to ask Mr. Naugle about case laws, or about information pertaining to the carotid hold. The Court refused to summon any of my treating physicians, whom I had provided the names and contact information for in my disclosures at the end of Discovery and some in my initial disclosures, and I had complied with Mr. King's written requests for information or objected within the boundaries of the laws (which I quoted and cited), in good faith, and complied with the Court's orders, in good faith.
I had informed the Court that I was scheduled for medical evaluations for brain injury AFTER THE TRIAL. The Court completely ignored this.
So it was my word against theirs. 5 years, at the time of the mistrial, to get a mockery of a trial, and have the jurors' time completely wasted. The jury wrote me a letter thanking me or something, but awarded me nothing.
I was diagnosed with organic brain injury after the trial. I had a similar test prior to the incident and had absolutely no problems and answered every question with no trouble. I now score in the FOURTH PERCENTILE on those areas.
Despite its length, this has been a short summary of all the events over the past 6 years. Much has been summarized, and much has been left out. I tried my best to balance completeness with leaving out irrelevant details.
There is no record of any misconduct on the part of anyone involved in this that is available to any law enforcement agencies or to the public. Nobody has been disciplined. No investigation was ever conducted. I was almost killed and was seriously injured, under a camera, and in front of witnesses, and spent 6 years working with the government. The government has done precisely NOTHING.
The County now routinely retaliates against me whenever we interact, in blatant violation of various laws.

​
So, one of the most popular fan ideas spread in the 40K community is that certain designs used by the Imperium were originally either light/scout vehicles or even agricultural vehicles during the Dark Age of Technology. It been existed for decades now, likely even in the oldest internet communities, so it is impossible for the idea to die. However, does it have a basis? With tons of free time and thanks to Lexicanum’s list on White Dwarf, I tried to check some.
The origin of this idea is, besides the fan idea of “The DAOT was so absurdly overpower even a civilian car should be overpower”, seem to be this passage of the original Rogue Trader.

The weapons, vehicles and much of the equipment described in this book have their roots in the STC system. Fighting vehicles often look like Tractors and Prime Movers because that's exactly what they were copied from! STC designs can be produced in almost any material; wood, plastic, concrete, steel, plastic, etc, and can be replicated on almost any world that has raw materials of some kind."

Rogue Trader Core Rulebook (1987)
This is interesting, and was even used to justify the idea of the Leman Russ being an agri vehicle. However, the Leman Russ wasn’t a thing in Rogue Trader, the Land Raider was.
The Leman Russ, as well the Baneblade seem to have been introduced in Epic related White Dwarf articles, in special, by the time of Armies of the Imperium (1991), through even with the details given by Lexicanum, I was unable to find the exact releases, I suspect White Dwarf 143 got them, but it’s one of the releases I just couldn’t find online, same as for Armies, which is one of the few Epic main releases that just seem to not exist in the internet.
Thus, I can’t really say much about both vehicles, but, The Horus Heresy black books by Forge World put the idea to a rest by explicitly saying the Leman Russ is a tank STC, through some people may argue that since the Black Books are in universe works, they may be wrong.

This last conflict in particular was a celebrated victory, for which the ancient battle tank STC restored to the Imperium in that same campaign was named in Leman Russ' honour by the Mechanicum.

Horus Heresy Book 7 Inferno (2017)
In a similar case, I failed to find any actual mention of the Baneblade STC as specially stating them to be any type of vehicle during the Dark Age, I’ve seen people claiming Epic say they were light tank STC, but I found zero data on it, in general, they just don’t mention that detail.
Now, Imperial Armour gives some data about other vehicles, in special, a detailed origin of the Rhino, which is the base of other vehicles such as the Predator, which is, in the first edition, straight up said to be the main fighting vehicle of mankind, with Volume 2 changing the text to be more ambiguous.

Unusually, the surviving documents on the origins of the Rhino are almost complete and give an accurate early history of the vehicle.
Ancient records show that the Rhino started life as the RH1-N-O Tracked Exploration and Multi-Purpose Defence Vehicle Standard Template Construction (STC) for use by colonists and explorers as Mankind spread throughout the galaxy colonising worlds. They needed a robust. tracked alt-terrain vehicle, sealed against hostile environments and providing some measure of protection and defense. The first Rhino was field tested on Mars and proved a great success. Capable of being constructed from any local available material and powered by any fuel source, the popularity of the Rhino spread. Soon Rhinos became common sights on the frontier worlds of the rapidly expanding circle of human worlds.
As well as a vehicle for exploration the Rhino's military potential was soon recognized. The armed forces began to adopt the design. filling it with weapons and extra armour for combat. The Rhino. and its many variants. Eventually became the standard armoured vehicle of human armies. As these armies spread through the galaxy, they took the Rhino with them.
(…)
The earliest known use of the Rhino in combat is recorded in the ancient Liber Armorum. According to this august document it was by human colonists on Torben's World against unidentified indigenous xenos creatures of a primitive technology level. The Rhinos formed the spearhead of the human colonists' attacks, against which the primitive alien firearms were useless. The Rhinos smashed the alien settlements and Torben's World was completely purged of the xenos, leaving the colonization to progress unimpeded.
(…)
The Predator is a variant of the basic Rhino chassis, equipped with superior armour protection and firepower, in favour of the troop transportation capacity. (..) Back in the Dark Age of Technology all Predators were of the 'Destructor' variant.
(...)
The predator first saw service during the Dark Age of Technology, when it was the standard battle tank of all mankind's fighting forces. It was first built as a response to a newly encountered threat from a violent and warlike alien race - the Orks, barbarous savages who lived only for war and battle.
Mankind's forces were having great difficulty in combating the Ork's reckless headlong charges. Seeking new tactics and new weapons to defeat the Orks, the Predator came into being. With extra armour and heavy weapons a Predator could resist attacks from most Ork weapons, and the savages' primitive armour was no match for the autocannon and heavy bolters.
It is a design that withstood the test of time well. The first Predators were constructed with a small troop-carrying capacity, but during the campaigns of the Great Crusade this capacity was gradualy lost in favour of more ammunition stowage space, especially if the Predator was mounted with sponsons which became standard during the Great Crusade.
(…)
Legend has, it that the Land Raider (called in some fragmentary records “Land's Raider”) was discovered during Machine-Archaeologist Arkhan Land's great expedition into the Libraries Omnis on Mars. The main aim of Land's expedition into the labyrinth catacombs sited deep beneath the surface of the Red Planet was to find functioning STC databases, in this he failed, but two discoveries were made which revolutionized machine lore for millennia to come. The first was a near complete dataslab imprint of STC information describing a heavily armoured assault tank The second was the unearthing of data on rare anti-gravitic plates and theories on their use. which eventually led to the construction of the first “Land's Speeder”.

Imperial Armour Volume 2 (2004)

The provenance of the Predator battle tank is thought to be in the forgotten depths of the Dark Age of Technology, when some hold that it was the standard battle tank of Mankind’s fighting forces.
(…)
The Predator Destructor is believed to be the most numerous Predator variant and many marks exist in the armouries of every Adeptus Astartes Chapter. Some even claim it is the original pattern of the Predator tank and it has certainly served in the armies of the lmperium since at least the Great Crusade
The Destructor is likely to have first been introduced as a response to a newly encountered threat from a Violent and Warlike alien species such as the Orks, a barbarous xeno-form that exists only for war, if this theory is true, the tank's thick armour and its balance between strength and rate of fire would make it ideal when confronted with hordes of this tough, numerous enemy. With Orks a ubiquitous foe the length and breadth of the galaxy, there is scant likelihood that there will ever be cause to retire it from service

Imperial Armour Volume 2 Second Edition (2013)
There’s, however, one vehicle that is canonically based in an agri vehicle STC, the Bruenhilde and Siegfried, both created in Krieg and based in the Land Crawler.

The Bruennhilde is one of several dozen variants of the common Land Crawler. The Land Crawler is another of the STC constructs re-discovered by Arkhan Land at the birth of the Imperium. Unlike the more famous Land Raider and Land Speeder, the Land Crawler is not a military vehicle but an agricultural one. Countless billions of Land Crawlers are used on agriworlds across the Imperium, where its' versatility, ease of maintenance, and forgiving driving characteristics make it hugely popular. It has been argued by more than one Imperial historian that the humble Land Crawler is by far the single most important STC Construct discovered by Arkhan Land; after all, even Space Marines need to eat. The Land Crawler has been pressed into military service countless times, either as an engineering vehicle, or, as in the case of the Bruennhilde, as a gun transporter. Unlike the Götterdämmerung and Blitzen, the Bruennhilde predates the Krieg civil war, and has been used as a lightly armoured transporter by PDF units of Krieg for several millennia. Although it is armed with a single heavy stubber, the Bruennhilde is not really designed for front-line duty, though at times it is pressed into service.
The Siegfried is another variant of the famous Land Crawler.

Epic Swordwind (2005)
Another popular idea is that the Imperial Knights started as agri machines, their chainsaws to cut trees and cannons to blast rocks. This is interesting because it is something close to the original idea, but not quite.
The original background, given in The Story of the Knights in White Dwarf was of the human Knights being created based in the Eldar Knights used by the Exodite eldar, Knights were supposed to protect dinosaur like creatures from other dinosaurs, so they are “agri vehicles” the same way a shotgun used to protect livestock is an agri device.

In order to produce the food necessary to trade with the craftworlds, the oceans of the planets were seeded with algae to form vast floating weed beds. These weed bed and the lush vegetation of the primitive jungles provide nourishment for docile Brontosaurus—like herd beasts called Megasaurs created by the Knights through cloning and genetic engineering. The Megasaurs in turn provide protein-rich food for the craftworlds. The herds were shepherded by the Knights in their machine-bodies protecting the Megasaurs from predators and moving them from place to place to feed. On occasion, the Knights different clans would clash over watering rights or border disputes, though combat took an almost ritualized form intended more to hone the Knights' skills than bring about bloodshed.
(...)
During the Dark Age of Technology, scouts from Earth travelled far through the galaxy seeking planets to be used as agricultural worlds to provide food for the huge hiveworlds of Humanity. They copied the farming techniques used by the Eldar Knights already living on some of the worlds discovered, in a period referred to by the Exodites as The Coming of Men, the Eldar and Human colonists clashed in a series of bloody wars as the Eldar Knights sought to protect their homes from the interlopers. When these planets were cutoff in the Age of Strife, they became feral worlds. A warrior aristocracy grew up on the Human worlds, mimicking the lifestyle of the Eldar clans. On many worlds, the Eldar clans resurged to win back the lands they had lost and settled into a pattern of battling and raiding both against the Humans and each other. The wealth of the noble Human houses and Eldar clans was based on their herds and much herd-raiding went on. The herds were greatly reduced in size, but, as the only readily available food source, were just as important.
While the Eldar shared their duties equally throughout the clan, the Human nobility enforced a feudal system on those below them. A sub-class of Drovers looked after the herds, as the nobles would not soil their hands with such work. The Drovers' walkers were not, by law, armed with weapons even though they lived in constant danger from raiders and predators. This ensured that the Drovers had to rely on the Knights of the nobility for protection and nullified any chance of revolt.
(…)
In addition to the threat posed by hostile houses, the Chivalry had to fight constant battles against swift Carnosaurs which preyed upon the herds. Hunting the Carnosaurs honed their fighting skills to a deadly art, preparing them for the periods of violent warp activity which created monstrous mutated beasts. When such a beast was sighted, all the Chivalry would go on quests to seek out and destroy the creature before it minted the land.

White Dwarf 126 (1990)
When the Imperial Knights were revamped, their origin was changed, no mention of the Exodites is made, instead, they were created as STC designs for colonization, with the text explicitly separating them from the actual agri vehicles and going to say they quickly became a war machine for the dark age.

They created atmospheric shelters, tools for farming and construction, means of power, transportation and the like. They also created the towering bipedal constructs known as Knight suits. These armour-plated walkers could traverse even the most perilous landscapes, endure the worst conditions that the colony worlds could throw at them, and – when suitably armed – fight in defense of the colonists themselves.
Few xenos races had an answer to these mechanical giants. Manufactured in large numbers, piloted by the most skilled and charismatic of the colonists, the Knights served as the mailed fist of human colonial expansionism. They smashed threats to Mankind’s new domains wherever they encountered them, and their pilots rapidly achieved a status somewhere between celebrity and war hero. What no one realised was that even as the Knight suits were serving the colonists, their Thrones Mechanicum were irreversibly altering the minds and souls of those who piloted them.

Codex Imperial Knights 8th ed (2018)

Genre: Post Metal/Folk Metal
Release Date: 13th August 2002
Streaming:

• Spotify
• Apple Music
• Soundcloud
• Youtube

Description:
(Sputnikmusic - Sowing)
Review Summary: The Mantle is everything that you just can’t find the words to describe, and that is what makes it one of the most intriguing albums of the past decade.
I have heard many music critics lament the difficulties of reviewing Agalloch’s The Mantle. Their complaints are not unwarranted, as the album combines elements of black metal, acoustic folk, and atmospheric rock unlike anything I have ever heard. The Mantle itself seems to personify that indescribable nature, with its overall mood hovering somewhere between the despair in each of John Haughm’s growls and the harmonic, beautifully sung verses that blend in with the record’s spectacular guitar work. There is a mysterious nature that accompanies Agalloch’s sophomore album, and it possesses the uncanny ability to stump even the most verbally adept writers. It is albums like this that make music worth reviewing, worth sharing, and ultimately, worth giving credit to as a benchmark of twentieth century folk and metal music.
One of the things that lends The Mantle its element of mystique is its atmosphere. Not how they use synthesizers and ambience to produce an atmosphere, not how they shamelessly plug in a derivative concept to tie the songs together…no, Agalloch does not stoop that low. They do it the old-fashioned way: by utilizing each instrument to reflect their emotions. Throughout The Mantle, the band creates something so unique yet so tangible that you have no choice but to sink into this thing, whatever it is that they have crafted. At times you will be frightened by the sense that you are alone, wandering through desolate, snowy woodlands like the elk on the front cover…while other times, you will be rendered speechless by the waves and waves of stunningly gorgeous soundscapes that grace your ears. The Mantle is all about the experience, and just like a journey through the wilderness, it is best to start from the beginning and see it through to the end.
Agalloch kicks things off with a flourishing acoustic instrumental, “A Celebration for the Death of Man”, which also features some imposing and slightly unnerving poundings of the drum. The resulting thunderous echoes announce that despite the song’s inviting nature, danger may be afoot. While the opening track isn’t a major highlight of the album, it certainly plays an integral role in The Mantle’s atmospheric development. The serene-sounding guitars and crystal clear production coexist with the hint of a darker edge, much like the album’s whole. “In the Shadow of Our Pale Companion” is where Agalloch’s true genius begins to reveal itself, as the guitars transition from acoustic to electric, and the music gradually blends metal influences with the folk/indie elements that “A Celebration for the Death of Man” exuded with such great abundance. The first appearance of lead vocalist John Haughm doesn’t occur until just under five minutes into the album, and his growls are haunting and demonic sounding, but not overpowering. This blends in quite well with the meticulously crafted instrumental surroundings, allowing the vocals to serve as yet another contributor to the dense but surprisingly listenable atmosphere. Alternating between light screams, whispers, growls, and clean vocals, Haughm adds a whole new dimension to The Mantle, including tragically poetic lyrics that seem to depict a loss of innocence: “Like every hope I've ever had, like every dream I've ever known. . .It washed away in a tide of longing, a longing for a better world.”
The Mantle actually progresses in a similar, almost cyclical, fashion as the first two songs, as the entire album alternates between instrumental and vocal tracks. The instrumentals make up almost half of the album, which proves to be one of The Mantle’s few potential downfalls: the recurring, continual nature of the music is only appealing for the album’s sixty-eight minute duration if you are astute enough to pick out the subtle differences and minor progressions made between each song. A casual listener may deem the record’s instrumental-vocal-instrumental-vocal tracklisting to be redundant, which it can certainly be in the grand scheme of things and over its incredibly vast scope. However, the way that Agalloch refuses to abandon either style in pursuit of a singularly “heavy” or “soft” sound remains one of the most admirable traits of The Mantle.
The alternation of song-styles actually works quite well for the most part. “Odal” possesses a post-rock sound that drops into a few slower, elegant valleys before climbing to a magnificent crescendo; and then like one collective exhale, the song unwinds to dazzling acoustic guitars and the sound of a bone-chilling wind. “I Am The Wooden Doors”, easily the heaviest song on The Mantle, then quickly picks up the pace with fast, unrelenting drumming and some of Haughm’s most aggressive sounding growls and screams. The album’s defining moment, though, would have to be “You Were But a Ghost In My Arms”, which is ridiculously catchy and accessible in comparison to its bleak surroundings. The song features just about every style encompassed by The Mantle, thus serving as something of a sampler plate of vocal and instrumental techniques utilized over the course of the album’s runtime. “A Desolation Song” eventually closes out the entire experience with what can best be described as an Irish folk tune featuring spoken, whispered vocals.
The Mantle is a masterful combination of several different musical ideas and genres. The way that Agalloch ties them all together is nothing short of jaw-dropping, as they fuse everything into one melting pot type of atmosphere. At times, the album is reminiscent of Opeth’s Damnation, with an acoustic driven atmosphere that is dreary but tremendously addicting. Other times, it treads the line between the bombast of a post rock record and the reserved, quaint nature of indie-folk. The lack of one album-defining genre lends The Mantle an air of mystique, which serves to draw in fans of an entire wealth of musical styles. Here, Agalloch illustrates the difference between a musician and an artist. The Mantle captivates us and keeps us spellbound in so many different ways, and that is what makes it so difficult for listeners to describe. But one thing is for sure….this is more than just music. This is art.
Discussion Ideas:

• Praise?
• Criticisms?
• Personal experiences
• Best/Worst tracks?
• Has the album impacted the Metal scene?
• How has the artist evolved and was/is it a good direction?
• General thoughts?

My name is Rory and I run an animal shelter in Southern England. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep (and sometimes even after I fall asleep) I’m tending to my residents. My associates don’t call me Dr Dooalot for nothing, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I specialise in and have the facilities for animals of the exotic variety. You won’t find domesticated cats and dogs at my shelter, which is on the grounds of my home in the countryside. Well, that’s not entirely the truth because I have a pet Jack Russell, Jackie O (sorry not sorry). But other than Jackie O you’ll only find creatures such as reptiles and arachnids, some bird and aquatic species, and a few mammals.
They tend to fall under three categories: They are illegal to keep in the UK, the previous owners didn’t have the necessary licences to keep them, or the previous owners couldn’t adequately care for them.
Among my current residents I have various spiders, a copperhead, two meerkats, a lemur, and a fennec fox! I keep them during the transition period. They mostly end up in zoos around the country, but sometimes they are released back into their natural habitats and that brings me so much joy. In some cases the animals will spend the rest of their lives with me, and so I make it as comfortable as possible for them.
Before I get to the point I’ll just get on my soapbox for a moment. Please think long and hard before you choose to keep an exotic pet. The vast majority of owners don’t have the education or facilities to keep these creatures and that breaks my heart.
Okay, I’m done. Let me tell you about Bertie.
Bertie is a beautiful blue-and-yellow macaw who came to my shelter two months ago. I have an amazing indoooutdoor aviary on my grounds which is suitable for a range of bird species. The only other bird I had at the time was a sun conure, otherwise known as a sun parakeet.
Bertie’s story was he’d been with a single lady owner for the past two years, but she tragically died while he was in her care. She was a reclusive person and her death was only discovered due to her neighbours complaining about loud noises and a vile smell. Her body was in the stages of decomposition when the authorities intervened. Nasty stuff. It’s said that Bertie, who had been enclosed in a 5x3x2 ft cage, was crying for help when the authorities arrived.
When I acquired Bertie he was malnourished, the poor little guy (well, not so little standing at around 2 ft). I introduced him to my sun conure and observed them for several hours. I assumed that neither of them had much, if any interaction with other birds so I was concerned they might not get along. When all looked fine I made myself scarce, returning to find them sharing the fruit and veg bowl harmoniously. That was a relief.
Jackie O is well behaved around the animals despite Jack Russells having a tendency to be feisty and vocal. She’s a diamond and I trust she would never attack or make a meal out of my exotic guests. One odd thing I noticed was she seemed to have a fascination with Bertie. It’s something I’d not witnessed before to that extent. She’s a curious dog by nature, but she’d sit outside the aviary and just stare at Bertie for hours. I wondered if it was his striking colourful feathers that she was drawn to. But then one morning as I looked out of my kitchen window that overlooks the grounds, she appeared to be howling at the aviary.
I went outside and quietly walked to the aviary to listen. I heard it as clear as day.
“Jackie O, Jackie O.”
Bertie was talking to my dog! He’d not said a word since I’d had him, at least not to me. He must have heard me talking to her. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Jackie O ‘talked’ back by making a series of low howls and quiet barks. It was so cute!
“Are you making friends, girl?” I said as I approached them. She turned back to look at me briefly, then continued to stare up at Bertie.
“You’ve been hiding that voice, Bertie,” I said as I reached the aviary. “Clever boy!”
“Jackie O, Jackie O,” he continued.
“Yes, this is Jackie O and I’m Rory. Can you say Rory? Roar-ree.”
Bertie looked at me curiously, turning his head from side to side.
“Jackie O, Jackie O.”
I laughed to myself, then Jackie O started to whine a little.
“What’s the matter girl?” I asked, bending down to pat her. She put her paw on my knee and continued to whine as Bertie kept repeating her name. But as I paid more attention it sounded like there was more to it.
“Jackie O no, Jackie O no.”
The next morning Jackie O didn’t get out of her bed. She laid on her side and gently whined. It was so out of character for her that I didn’t hesitate. I picked her up and drove straight to the vet.
“I’m terribly sorry sir… brain tumour… small chance of survival…”
The cost and risk didn’t matter, I’d have gone bankrupt if it meant she’d be cured. So she stayed with the vet and I drove home alone, praying for a miracle. I was devastated. On top of that I was freaking out about Bertie. Was it what I feared - a premonition about something bad happening to my dog - or was I being paranoid?
I quietly observed Bertie as I sat outside the aviary. He looked at me curiously as I cried silently, then he climbed onto the frame of the cage. He pushed his beak through and I gave him a little smile, gently scratching his head.
He didn’t speak again until a few days later. I was cleaning inside the aviary and spent a little time socialising with the birds. They were tame enough and happy to be handled. Bertie perched on my arm and lowered his head to my hand, then gently nipped my finger with his beak. It didn’t hurt at all and came across as playful more than anything.
“Bite, bite,” he said. It made me laugh.
“Yes, that’s right Bertie. Bite. But don’t bite me too hard will you?”
He nipped me a few more times repeating “bite, bite,” over and over until I put him back on a branch.
“You’re a funny boy,” I said as I left him to it. But that night something happened that when I remembered the earlier encounter with Bertie, it sent a shiver down my spine.
I was watching TV and felt something tickle my foot as I sat on the sofa, followed by a painful sting. When I recoiled and looked down I saw a large spider disappear under the sofa. It was a Chilean rose tarantula, one of which I happened to have in one of my vivariums. The two small puncture wounds on the top of my foot were sore and red around the edges.
Fortunately these bites are only dangerous to humans who have an allergic reaction to them, so I was fine. I caught the little bugger and put it back in its tank. It wasn’t until I began cleaning the wounds that I heard Bertie warning of a bite.
From that moment I was a little cautious when around Bertie. My good girl Jackie O and the bite could have been coincidences but it was worrying. I kept our interactions brief in fear he’d start talking again, and I didn’t want to hear anything else that spooked me.
The good news was that Jackie O had survived the operation. Whether it put 3 years or 3 months on her life expectancy it was a blessing. She spent her recovery time with my parents as they could care for her around the clock. I visited whenever I could for cuddles.
Some days passed. By that point my sun conure had found a forever home, a bird sanctuary up north took her in. It was a relief because I did worry about Bertie’s strange behaviour affecting her. As I was tending to the grounds I could hear Bertie squawking about something. It sounded like he was calling my name!
“Rory, Rory…”
I smiled to myself and went to investigate. He’d not said my name yet despite me trying to teach it to him.
“Bertie, did you say my name?” I asked as I approached the aviary.
“Rory, Rory,” he repeated, his wings flapping.
“I’m here Bertie! What’s up?”
“Shut your mouth, shut your mouth,” he started to repeat.
My jaw dropped but I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Bertie, that’s rude! Surely you didn't call me over here just to tell me to shut up?”
“Nora, shut your mouth, help, shut your mouth, bye bye, Nora…”
“Are you saying Nora?” I asked.
“Nora, help, run, run…”
He was severely agitated so I stepped inside and gently stroked his back to calm him down. The reality is I could have done with someone to calm me down too. It left me a little shaken up.
Later that day as I was eating lunch I kept thinking about the troubling incident. He was definitely saying Nora, and I wondered why that name sounded familiar. I looked through my files and found the documents I’d received when I took Bertie on.
‘Bertie’, blue-and-gold macaw.
Estimated age: 19 years
Known ownership history:
Jonathan and Lori Swift, Weymouth
Sonia Jones, Bangor
Rohan Singh, Ealing
Nora Craig, Ipswich
As soon as I saw that name I remembered. He’d been with a single lady owner for two years, Nora Craig. She’d been found dead in her flat and Bertie had been calling for help when her body was discovered. I thought poor Bertie must have been having PTSD over the horrid experience.
Something that was also worrying was the amount of previous owners he’d had, and those were just the known ones. I did a little research, as much as Google would allow. I’m no detective! But I was curious if there was any information about the others.
I typed in jonathan lori swift weymouth and nothing significant came up. I tried the same thing with sonia jones bangor and rohan singh ealing. There were far too many results as expected.
I went back and tried jonathan lori swift weymouth parrot. After browsing several pages I found something promising. It was a local classified ad dated January 2011.
Home wanted for tame, intelligent parrot.
Bertie is a majestic blue gold macaw that my husband John and I shared our home with for three years. My husband recently passed due to a tragic accident and I no longer feel I can offer Bertie the care and attention he needs. Bertie is very sociable and requires mental stimulation for his well-being. Ideally you will have experience with this species. Please contact me at [REDACTED] if you can offer Bertie a good home. Lori Swift, Weymouth.
My heart broke for that woman and I hoped she was doing well these days.
I tried the same search with the other names. Nothing of note came up for Sonia Jones but a search for rohan singh ealing parrot yielded something interesting. It was an article on an online publication I wasn’t familiar with.
Mystery of missing traveller continues.
Do you remember the story of missing London man Rohan Singh? No? You’re not alone!
In 2018, paramedic Rohan Singh took a two month sabbatical to travel solo around Nepal and China. His family said it had been a dream of his since childhood. Rohan’s only dependent was an exotic parrot which he left in the care of his brother for the duration of his travels.
Rohan never returned home. His mother was the last person to have contact with him a week before he was due to...
These mystery cases always leave me feeling unsettled. Regardless of what happened to that man, poor Bertie’s history wasn’t looking good. He needed a forever home. Macaws can live to around 50 years and that’s a lot of potential future owners. I decided I wouldn’t let that happen; his forever home would be with me and Jackie O when she was well enough to return.
I purchased a large cage and had it installed in my living area. Moving him into the house made me feel better, and it seemed to ease Bertie too. His cage was his safe haven, but I opened the cage door every morning so he had free reign of the house while I was up and around. I also took him outside and let him fly free. My heart was in my throat the first time, I had no idea if he’d come back or fly away! But he came back after flying a lap around the grounds, landing on my hand when he returned.
Things were good for a week or so.
I woke up at ridiculous o’clock. It was just past 1am and that was unusual for me. My days are pretty active and I tend to sleep like a log once my head hits the pillow.
“Rory,” I heard a familiar voice say. I jumped out of my skin! I saw the outline of Bertie at the end of my bed. I must have left his cage open.
“You scared me Bertie,” I laughed, switching on the bedside lamp. He started walking up my bed until he was by my side.
“I love you too but you can’t sleep here. What if I roll over and squish you?”
He cocked his head at me as his pupils dilated, then he gripped my wrist with a claw. I yelled out in pain before something terrifying happened.
I saw things…
A tractor on its side on a country road, a smoking car mangled around a tree…
A hospital room, a bedridden woman smiles as a child hands her a drawing of a colourful bird…
An arm protruding from a pile of rocks is buried as more rocks fall from a steep cliff…
Then I was in a cage.
I’m looking through the silver bars. A middle-aged woman walks into the room wearing a dressing gown, drying her hair with a towel.
“Nora,” I say. “Nora, run!”
She turns and smiles at me. “That’s right Bertie, mummy just went for a run. Clever boy!”
“Run, Nora!”
She laughs. “I’ll run again tomorrow! I’m relaxing now Bertie.”
There’s a knock at the door. The woman leaves the room.
“Get out!” she shouts.
Then a man’s voice. “You fucking bitch!”
The woman runs into the room and picks up a fire poker. A man runs in behind her and forces it from her hands. He’s dressed in dark clothing wearing gloves and a hat.
“Let me go!” she screams. He pushes her to the floor, his hands around her neck.
“Nora, run, help!” I yell over and over.
“Shut your mouth!” the man roars at me. “Shut your fucking mouth bird!”
Before long the woman’s body is still. The man approaches the cage.
“Bye bye birdy,” he sneers. He opens the cage and reaches inside. I lash out with a claw.
“Keep the fucking noise down!” someone yells, then there are bangs on the wall. The man runs from the room.
The woman never gets up. I cry her name and cry for help. Over time her body becomes bloated and discoloured…
Then I was in familiar surroundings. What I call my jungle room, where I keep my creepy crawlies. It’s warm and humid, the perfect environment for them. But I’m in danger, I can feel it. Something is pressed against my head.
There’s an explosion of sound…
When I was back in my room I was screaming out loud.
It took me a moment to come to my senses, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Bertie was looking up at me. A small trickle of blood ran down my wrist and my face was damp with sweat.
There came a loud noise from the back of my home, then the mammals in my care started to become vocal. I ran to the window and looked outside. Several security lights had come on. The shadow of a tall figure was stretched across the grounds, moving towards the house.
I heard a smash from downstairs.
I turned to Bertie, my eyes wide and my hands shaking. He stood on my bed looking at me, his wings outstretched.
“Rory, run!”
I froze to the spot for longer than I should have in that situation, only snapping out of it by Bertie’s continued cry. He flew at me and I ran out of the bedroom, stopping on my landing to listen. There was someone snooping around my house.
“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself like a mantra. It sounded like they were in the kitchen at that moment. Bertie landed on the bannister, looking down the stairs. He started nodding his head, then looked at me.
“What,” I whispered. “You want me to go downstairs?”
He kept nodding his head at me.
“Are you crazy?”
He jumped down and glided to the bottom of the staircase.
“Bertie!” I said as quietly as possible, but he just cocked his head and walked out of sight.
I stayed close to the wall and slowly walked down the stairs, taking deep breaths. When I got to the bottom I could see my backdoor was open. Bertie hopped out and I listened out for the intruder before tiptoeing after him. It was cold. I was barefoot and only wearing a t-shirt and boxers!
Bertie was walking towards the jungle room, which is within a small independent building on my grounds. When he got to the door he stopped and turned to look at me, then he opened his wings. I had a flashback to what I’d seen earlier, to what he’d shown me.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, looking over my shoulder. He squawked at me and I put a finger to my lips. “Okay, fine!”
I opened the door and Bertie hopped in. I followed him after making sure the coast was clear. It’s like stepping into the Amazon, hence my nickname for it. It’s filled with various plantlife and wall to wall vivariums containing all kinds of creatures, but mostly reptiles and spiders. The lighting is low, and it’s kept at a constant temperature of 25°C with moderate humidity. I took a moment to appreciate the warmth.
Bertie flew up and perched on a plant. There was only one way in and out of the jungle room.
“What now,” I said. “We just wait it out here?”
I heard a click from behind me and my stomach dropped.
“Raise your hands and turn around,” came a voice. “Slowly.”
My heart began to palpitate as I followed the instruction. My hands shook above my head as I met the eyes of a strange man standing before me. He was pointing a gun.
“You must be the animal man,” he said. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to take some off your hands.”
“Wha… What?” I said.
“Some of these critters fetch a fair price to the right buyer, did you know that?”
I shook my head. “Please sir, don’t take the animals. They’re very special, they need proper care. They’re not supposed to be pets.”
He started to laugh. “Boo-hoo! Do you think I give a fuck about that?”
“I have money,” I said. “And some belongings that might be worth something. You’re welcome to them. Please, just leave the animals.”
“Oh yeah?” he said. “And where might I find these things?”
“I’ll get them for you,” I said, lowering my hands.
“Uh-uh!” he snapped. “No way, get on your knees.”
“What?”
“Get on your fucking knees!”
I started to panic as I fell to my knees. The man pressed the gun against my head.
“Oh God,” I said, my whole body shaking. “Please don’t do this.”
“Where's the money?”
“There’s some in my wallet,” I stuttered. “By the front door. And upstairs in my bedroom closet, in a box on the top shelf.”
“Money laundering, huh?” he laughed. “Great, thanks. I’ll have a look once these furballs are in my van.”
He cocked the gun and I closed my eyes.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded.
There came an explosion of sound and my ears rang. When I opened my eyes Bertie was clawing at the man’s hand as he tried to shake him off. Without thinking I leapt forward and knocked him down, the gun going off again. I heard something smash on the other side of the jungle room.
Bertie flew somewhere behind us as I tried to hold the man down, but that was silly. I’ve never had to defend myself and I was pinned within seconds.
“Dumb fucking bird!” he snarled, pointing the gun across the room.
“No!” I screamed, grabbing his arm with both hands. I pushed it to the floor with all I had and the gun slid away from us. I was disoriented as his fist met the side of my face, then his hands were around my neck.
“All over some fucking animals?” he spat. His face was screwed up into a hateful expression as I tried to free myself from his grip. He applied pressure and couldn’t breathe, my windpipe felt like it was being crushed.
From the corner of my eye I saw Bertie’s bright blue and yellow feathers getting closer, and I quietly appreciated his attempts at playing the hero.
Tears streamed down my face as my eyes fell on Bertie. But he wasn’t alone. Just in front of him was another small creature, one that Bertie was nudging towards us with his beak.
It was the inland taipan.
Why anyone would think it's a good idea to keep a deadly snake as a pet is beyond me, but in the moment I thanked that stupid person who attempted such a thing.
As soon as the man noticed the snake he freaked out, but I’m not sure if he realised just how dangerous it was. His eyes widened as he let me go and threw his arms out, but the snake was quick. It took a jab at the soft flesh of his neck, and then one on his hand for good measure.
I brought my body into the foetal position as it slithered past me, not wanting to risk a bite myself. Then it disappeared into the plants somewhere.
Bertie brushed against me as I caught my breath. Looking across the room I could see the snake’s tank had shattered. What are the chances the bullet hit the one tank containing a creature capable of certain death?
As I picked up Bertie and stood up on wobbly legs the man was in the stages of a total body shut down. He was convulsing and vomiting when I left the jungle room, a real nasty way to go. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Poor Bertie has had a rough go of it in life, but I hope we can be the forever home he deserves. Don’t get me wrong; I’m terrified about what he might say or do next, but I guess a heart-stopping warning is better than none at all.
dd

My name is Rory and I run an animal shelter in Southern England. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep (and sometimes even after I fall asleep) I’m tending to my residents. My associates don’t call me Dr Dooalot for nothing, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I specialise in and have the facilities for animals of the exotic variety. You won’t find domesticated cats and dogs at my shelter, which is on the grounds of my home in the countryside. Well, that’s not entirely the truth because I have a pet Jack Russell, Jackie O (sorry not sorry). But other than Jackie O you’ll only find creatures such as reptiles and arachnids, some bird and aquatic species, and a few mammals.
They tend to fall under three categories: They are illegal to keep in the UK, the previous owners didn’t have the necessary licences to keep them, or the previous owners couldn’t adequately care for them.
Among my current residents I have various spiders, a copperhead, two meerkats, a lemur, and a fennec fox! I keep them during the transition period. They mostly end up in zoos around the country, but sometimes they are released back into their natural habitats and that brings me so much joy. In some cases the animals will spend the rest of their lives with me, and so I make it as comfortable as possible for them.
Before I get to the point I’ll just get on my soapbox for a moment. Please think long and hard before you choose to keep an exotic pet. The vast majority of owners don’t have the education or facilities to keep these creatures and that breaks my heart.
Okay, I’m done. Let me tell you about Bertie.
Bertie is a beautiful blue-and-yellow macaw who came to my shelter two months ago. I have an amazing indoooutdoor aviary on my grounds which is suitable for a range of bird species. The only other bird I had at the time was a sun conure, otherwise known as a sun parakeet.
Bertie’s story was he’d been with a single lady owner for the past two years, but she tragically died while he was in her care. She was a reclusive person and her death was only discovered due to her neighbours complaining about loud noises and a vile smell. Her body was in the stages of decomposition when the authorities intervened. Nasty stuff. It’s said that Bertie, who had been enclosed in a 5x3x2 ft cage, was crying for help when the authorities arrived.
When I acquired Bertie he was malnourished, the poor little guy (well, not so little standing at around 2 ft). I introduced him to my sun conure and observed them for several hours. I assumed that neither of them had much, if any interaction with other birds so I was concerned they might not get along. When all looked fine I made myself scarce, returning to find them sharing the fruit and veg bowl harmoniously. That was a relief.
Jackie O is well behaved around the animals despite Jack Russells having a tendency to be feisty and vocal. She’s a diamond and I trust she would never attack or make a meal out of my exotic guests. One odd thing I noticed was she seemed to have a fascination with Bertie. It’s something I’d not witnessed before to that extent. She’s a curious dog by nature, but she’d sit outside the aviary and just stare at Bertie for hours. I wondered if it was his striking colourful feathers that she was drawn to. But then one morning as I looked out of my kitchen window that overlooks the grounds, she appeared to be howling at the aviary.
I went outside and quietly walked to the aviary to listen. I heard it as clear as day.
“Jackie O, Jackie O.”
Bertie was talking to my dog! He’d not said a word since I’d had him, at least not to me. He must have heard me talking to her. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Jackie O ‘talked’ back by making a series of low howls and quiet barks. It was so cute!
“Are you making friends, girl?” I said as I approached them. She turned back to look at me briefly, then continued to stare up at Bertie.
“You’ve been hiding that voice, Bertie,” I said as I reached the aviary. “Clever boy!”
“Jackie O, Jackie O,” he continued.
“Yes, this is Jackie O and I’m Rory. Can you say Rory? Roar-ree.”
Bertie looked at me curiously, turning his head from side to side.
“Jackie O, Jackie O.”
I laughed to myself, then Jackie O started to whine a little.
“What’s the matter girl?” I asked, bending down to pat her. She put her paw on my knee and continued to whine as Bertie kept repeating her name. But as I paid more attention it sounded like there was more to it.
“Jackie O no, Jackie O no.”
The next morning Jackie O didn’t get out of her bed. She laid on her side and gently whined. It was so out of character for her that I didn’t hesitate. I picked her up and drove straight to the vet.
“I’m terribly sorry sir… brain tumour… small chance of survival…”
The cost and risk didn’t matter, I’d have gone bankrupt if it meant she’d be cured. So she stayed with the vet and I drove home alone, praying for a miracle. I was devastated. On top of that I was freaking out about Bertie. Was it what I feared - a premonition about something bad happening to my dog - or was I being paranoid?
I quietly observed Bertie as I sat outside the aviary. He looked at me curiously as I cried silently, then he climbed onto the frame of the cage. He pushed his beak through and I gave him a little smile, gently scratching his head.
He didn’t speak again until a few days later. I was cleaning inside the aviary and spent a little time socialising with the birds. They were tame enough and happy to be handled. Bertie perched on my arm and lowered his head to my hand, then gently nipped my finger with his beak. It didn’t hurt at all and came across as playful more than anything.
“Bite, bite,” he said. It made me laugh.
“Yes, that’s right Bertie. Bite. But don’t bite me too hard will you?”
He nipped me a few more times repeating “bite, bite,” over and over until I put him back on a branch.
“You’re a funny boy,” I said as I left him to it. But that night something happened that when I remembered the earlier encounter with Bertie, it sent a shiver down my spine.
I was watching TV and felt something tickle my foot as I sat on the sofa, followed by a painful sting. When I recoiled and looked down I saw a large spider disappear under the sofa. It was a Chilean rose tarantula, one of which I happened to have in one of my vivariums. The two small puncture wounds on the top of my foot were sore and red around the edges.
Fortunately these bites are only dangerous to humans who have an allergic reaction to them, so I was fine. I caught the little bugger and put it back in its tank. It wasn’t until I began cleaning the wounds that I heard Bertie warning of a bite.
From that moment I was a little cautious when around Bertie. My good girl Jackie O and the bite could have been coincidences but it was worrying. I kept our interactions brief in fear he’d start talking again, and I didn’t want to hear anything else that spooked me.
The good news was that Jackie O had survived the operation. Whether it put 3 years or 3 months on her life expectancy it was a blessing. She spent her recovery time with my parents as they could care for her around the clock. I visited whenever I could for cuddles.
Some days passed. By that point my sun conure had found a forever home, a bird sanctuary up north took her in. It was a relief because I did worry about Bertie’s strange behaviour affecting her. As I was tending to the grounds I could hear Bertie squawking about something. It sounded like he was calling my name!
“Rory, Rory…”
I smiled to myself and went to investigate. He’d not said my name yet despite me trying to teach it to him.
“Bertie, did you say my name?” I asked as I approached the aviary.
“Rory, Rory,” he repeated, his wings flapping.
“I’m here Bertie! What’s up?”
“Shut your mouth, shut your mouth,” he started to repeat.
My jaw dropped but I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Bertie, that’s rude! Surely you didn't call me over here just to tell me to shut up?”
“Nora, shut your mouth, help, shut your mouth, bye bye, Nora…”
“Are you saying Nora?” I asked.
“Nora, help, run, run…”
He was severely agitated so I stepped inside and gently stroked his back to calm him down. The reality is I could have done with someone to calm me down too. It left me a little shaken up.
Later that day as I was eating lunch I kept thinking about the troubling incident. He was definitely saying Nora, and I wondered why that name sounded familiar. I looked through my files and found the documents I’d received when I took Bertie on.
‘Bertie’, blue-and-gold macaw.
Estimated age: 19 years
Known ownership history:
Jonathan and Lori Swift, Weymouth
Sonia Jones, Bangor
Rohan Singh, Ealing
Nora Craig, Ipswich
As soon as I saw that name I remembered. He’d been with a single lady owner for two years, Nora Craig. She’d been found dead in her flat and Bertie had been calling for help when her body was discovered. I thought poor Bertie must have been having PTSD over the horrid experience.
Something that was also worrying was the amount of previous owners he’d had, and those were just the known ones. I did a little research, as much as Google would allow. I’m no detective! But I was curious if there was any information about the others.
I typed in jonathan lori swift weymouth and nothing significant came up. I tried the same thing with sonia jones bangor and rohan singh ealing. There were far too many results as expected.
I went back and tried jonathan lori swift weymouth parrot. After browsing several pages I found something promising. It was a local classified ad dated January 2011.
Home wanted for tame, intelligent parrot.
Bertie is a majestic blue gold macaw that my husband John and I shared our home with for three years. My husband recently passed due to a tragic accident and I no longer feel I can offer Bertie the care and attention he needs. Bertie is very sociable and requires mental stimulation for his well-being. Ideally you will have experience with this species. Please contact me at [REDACTED] if you can offer Bertie a good home. Lori Swift, Weymouth.
My heart broke for that woman and I hoped she was doing well these days.
I tried the same search with the other names. Nothing of note came up for Sonia Jones but a search for rohan singh ealing parrot yielded something interesting. It was an article on an online publication I wasn’t familiar with.
Mystery of missing traveller continues.
Do you remember the story of missing London man Rohan Singh? No? You’re not alone!
In 2018, paramedic Rohan Singh took a two month sabbatical to travel solo around Nepal and China. His family said it had been a dream of his since childhood. Rohan’s only dependent was an exotic parrot which he left in the care of his brother for the duration of his travels.
Rohan never returned home. His mother was the last person to have contact with him a week before he was due to...
These mystery cases always leave me feeling unsettled. Regardless of what happened to that man, poor Bertie’s history wasn’t looking good. He needed a forever home. Macaws can live to around 50 years and that’s a lot of potential future owners. I decided I wouldn’t let that happen; his forever home would be with me and Jackie O when she was well enough to return.
I purchased a large cage and had it installed in my living area. Moving him into the house made me feel better, and it seemed to ease Bertie too. His cage was his safe haven, but I opened the cage door every morning so he had free reign of the house while I was up and around. I also took him outside and let him fly free. My heart was in my throat the first time, I had no idea if he’d come back or fly away! But he came back after flying a lap around the grounds, landing on my hand when he returned.
Things were good for a week or so.
I woke up at ridiculous o’clock. It was just past 1am and that was unusual for me. My days are pretty active and I tend to sleep like a log once my head hits the pillow.
“Rory,” I heard a familiar voice say. I jumped out of my skin! I saw the outline of Bertie at the end of my bed. I must have left his cage open.
“You scared me Bertie,” I laughed, switching on the bedside lamp. He started walking up my bed until he was by my side.
“I love you too but you can’t sleep here. What if I roll over and squish you?”
He cocked his head at me as his pupils dilated, then he gripped my wrist with a claw. I yelled out in pain before something terrifying happened.
I saw things…
A tractor on its side on a country road, a smoking car mangled around a tree…
A hospital room, a bedridden woman smiles as a child hands her a drawing of a colourful bird…
An arm protruding from a pile of rocks is buried as more rocks fall from a steep cliff…
Then I was in a cage.
I’m looking through the silver bars. A middle-aged woman walks into the room wearing a dressing gown, drying her hair with a towel.
“Nora,” I say. “Nora, run!”
She turns and smiles at me. “That’s right Bertie, mummy just went for a run. Clever boy!”
“Run, Nora!”
She laughs. “I’ll run again tomorrow! I’m relaxing now Bertie.”
There’s a knock at the door. The woman leaves the room.
“Get out!” she shouts.
Then a man’s voice. “You fucking bitch!”
The woman runs into the room and picks up a fire poker. A man runs in behind her and forces it from her hands. He’s dressed in dark clothing wearing gloves and a hat.
“Let me go!” she screams. He pushes her to the floor, his hands around her neck.
“Nora, run, help!” I yell over and over.
“Shut your mouth!” the man roars at me. “Shut your fucking mouth bird!”
Before long the woman’s body is still. The man approaches the cage.
“Bye bye birdy,” he sneers. He opens the cage and reaches inside. I lash out with a claw.
“Keep the fucking noise down!” someone yells, then there are bangs on the wall. The man runs from the room.
The woman never gets up. I cry her name and cry for help. Over time her body becomes bloated and discoloured…
Then I was in familiar surroundings. What I call my jungle room, where I keep my creepy crawlies. It’s warm and humid, the perfect environment for them. But I’m in danger, I can feel it. Something is pressed against my head.
There’s an explosion of sound…
When I was back in my room I was screaming out loud.
It took me a moment to come to my senses, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Bertie was looking up at me. A small trickle of blood ran down my wrist and my face was damp with sweat.
There came a loud noise from the back of my home, then the mammals in my care started to become vocal. I ran to the window and looked outside. Several security lights had come on. The shadow of a tall figure was stretched across the grounds, moving towards the house.
I heard a smash from downstairs.
I turned to Bertie, my eyes wide and my hands shaking. He stood on my bed looking at me, his wings outstretched.
“Rory, run!”
I froze to the spot for longer than I should have in that situation, only snapping out of it by Bertie’s continued cry. He flew at me and I ran out of the bedroom, stopping on my landing to listen. There was someone snooping around my house.
“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself like a mantra. It sounded like they were in the kitchen at that moment. Bertie landed on the bannister, looking down the stairs. He started nodding his head, then looked at me.
“What,” I whispered. “You want me to go downstairs?”
He kept nodding his head at me.
“Are you crazy?”
He jumped down and glided to the bottom of the staircase.
“Bertie!” I said as quietly as possible, but he just cocked his head and walked out of sight.
I stayed close to the wall and slowly walked down the stairs, taking deep breaths. When I got to the bottom I could see my backdoor was open. Bertie hopped out and I listened out for the intruder before tiptoeing after him. It was cold. I was barefoot and only wearing a t-shirt and boxers!
Bertie was walking towards the jungle room, which is within a small independent building on my grounds. When he got to the door he stopped and turned to look at me, then he opened his wings. I had a flashback to what I’d seen earlier, to what he’d shown me.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, looking over my shoulder. He squawked at me and I put a finger to my lips. “Okay, fine!”
I opened the door and Bertie hopped in. I followed him after making sure the coast was clear. It’s like stepping into the Amazon, hence my nickname for it. It’s filled with various plantlife and wall to wall vivariums containing all kinds of creatures, but mostly reptiles and spiders. The lighting is low, and it’s kept at a constant temperature of 25°C with moderate humidity. I took a moment to appreciate the warmth.
Bertie flew up and perched on a plant. There was only one way in and out of the jungle room.
“What now,” I said. “We just wait it out here?”
I heard a click from behind me and my stomach dropped.
“Raise your hands and turn around,” came a voice. “Slowly.”
My heart began to palpitate as I followed the instruction. My hands shook above my head as I met the eyes of a strange man standing before me. He was pointing a gun.
“You must be the animal man,” he said. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to take some off your hands.”
“Wha… What?” I said.
“Some of these critters fetch a fair price to the right buyer, did you know that?”
I shook my head. “Please sir, don’t take the animals. They’re very special, they need proper care. They’re not supposed to be pets.”
He started to laugh. “Boo-hoo! Do you think I give a fuck about that?”
“I have money,” I said. “And some belongings that might be worth something. You’re welcome to them. Please, just leave the animals.”
“Oh yeah?” he said. “And where might I find these things?”
“I’ll get them for you,” I said, lowering my hands.
“Uh-uh!” he snapped. “No way, get on your knees.”
“What?”
“Get on your fucking knees!”
I started to panic as I fell to my knees. The man pressed the gun against my head.
“Oh God,” I said, my whole body shaking. “Please don’t do this.”
“Where's the money?”
“There’s some in my wallet,” I stuttered. “By the front door. And upstairs in my bedroom closet, in a box on the top shelf.”
“Money laundering, huh?” he laughed. “Great, thanks. I’ll have a look once these furballs are in my van.”
He cocked the gun and I closed my eyes.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded.
There came an explosion of sound and my ears rang. When I opened my eyes Bertie was clawing at the man’s hand as he tried to shake him off. Without thinking I leapt forward and knocked him down, the gun going off again. I heard something smash on the other side of the jungle room.
Bertie flew somewhere behind us as I tried to hold the man down, but that was silly. I’ve never had to defend myself and I was pinned within seconds.
“Dumb fucking bird!” he snarled, pointing the gun across the room.
“No!” I screamed, grabbing his arm with both hands. I pushed it to the floor with all I had and the gun slid away from us. I was disoriented as his fist met the side of my face, then his hands were around my neck.
“All over some fucking animals?” he spat. His face was screwed up into a hateful expression as I tried to free myself from his grip. He applied pressure and couldn’t breathe, my windpipe felt like it was being crushed.
From the corner of my eye I saw Bertie’s bright blue and yellow feathers getting closer, and I quietly appreciated his attempts at playing the hero.
Tears streamed down my face as my eyes fell on Bertie. But he wasn’t alone. Just in front of him was another small creature, one that Bertie was nudging towards us with his beak.
It was the inland taipan.
Why anyone would think it's a good idea to keep a deadly snake as a pet is beyond me, but in the moment I thanked that stupid person who attempted such a thing.
As soon as the man noticed the snake he freaked out, but I’m not sure if he realised just how dangerous it was. His eyes widened as he let me go and threw his arms out, but the snake was quick. It took a jab at the soft flesh of his neck, and then one on his hand for good measure.
I brought my body into the foetal position as it slithered past me, not wanting to risk a bite myself. Then it disappeared into the plants somewhere.
Bertie brushed against me as I caught my breath. Looking across the room I could see the snake’s tank had shattered. What are the chances the bullet hit the one tank containing a creature capable of certain death?
As I picked up Bertie and stood up on wobbly legs the man was in the stages of a total body shut down. He was convulsing and vomiting when I left the jungle room, a real nasty way to go. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Poor Bertie has had a rough go of it in life, but I hope we can be the forever home he deserves. Don’t get me wrong; I’m terrified about what he might say or do next, but I guess a heart-stopping warning is better than none at all.
dd
DB

hey yall, i have leg weakness from my dysautonomia. sometimes I can't even move my legs without my arms moving them and i can only walk about a black before I can't walk anymore. I was wondering if AFOs would help me walk longer distances and help stable my legs out. I would ask my doctor but she doesn't believe my legs are weak lol.
any advice is appreciated, thanks <3

Use this thread to promote yourself and/or your work!
(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

So, we're to leave our intrepid adventurer where she stands and exit the underworld at this time, but I promise you that what’s next is just as exciting if not more so. For now, we find ourselves in the midst of Erica’s camp. It's the morning after the parlay, and both sides are ready for combat while further preparations are seen to.
​
Erica stands upon the far edge of the field of battle while her troops form up behind her and stand ready for war. She looks to her men and intuits that a speech is not necessary, their spirits are already primed. As such, she simply issues a fierce war cry with an extended sword and spurs her horse into battle. Her troops charge behind her as they scream so loud that the heavens might rattle.
​
Beth hears the cry, but she's not intimidated. She stands upon her own feet with ax in one hand and shield in the other. She slams her weapon against her defensive armament and utters a tremendous howl which her men emulate and repeat the gesture. She holds steady until the other army is within the middle boundary of the battlefield before she charges and her men follow right behind.
​
The two armies meet with a thunderous crash as the superior equipment of Erica’s soldiers clash against the primitive arsenal wielded by the massively muscled brutes under Beth’s guidance. It’s a long, bloody struggle that leaves casualties on both sides, but in the end, half of the barbarians lay dead or dying, beyond the help of medicine, with another quarter wounded but mobile.
​
It’s not much different in the other camp where a quarter of the soldiers lay dead and a much smaller eighth is wounded, some moderate others much more severe, but all being tended to The surviving barbarian army is put to their knees, in front of the conquering commander, while their chief is bound with chains.
​
“I want you barbarians to know that I don't hold you responsible for your leader's decision,” Erica addresses her captives, her sword arm in a sling. “As such, you are free to return to your home.”
​
The disgraced army is not happy about leaving their chief behind, but they have no choice. They have to preserve their clan. So, with great shame, they turn and retreat to their camp, Greg among their number.
​
“As for you,” Erica speaks as she turns to the defeated commander. “You will be spending a long time in prison.”
​
Beth is furious, but cannot retaliate and so, she is forced to accept her fate.

I feel most other players can agree that this is one of the better events we have ever gotten, but why?
Infantry in this implementation inherently seem to directly counter a lot of issues this game. Everyone has a ton of spawns, the tanks actually feel powerful, IFVs are extremely useful as they can play their role, it encourages teamwork, and it gives us proper combined arms warfare.
Right now this mode throws this community’s understanding of balance on its head as the Abrams is able to outperform the T-80BVM thanks to is far higher resistance to infantry AT launchers and IFVs are finally credible threats on s battlefield that require a proper push to take out. Hell even CAS is far less painful with infantry as they are a lot harder to target for them while being a solid counter to the helicopters in the mode.
Obviously it wouldn’t solve every issue, but it would alleviate a lot of them. More importantly though it would show players the strengths and weaknesses of tanks they never expected to see, after all it would be pretty terrifying to be under a rocket attack as infantry trying to capture a point, or find out you have a 120mm HESH shell aimed right at you. Never mind that napalm could even become a go-to for blocking capture points.
Curious to hear everyone’s thoughts, but i think infantry would really improve this game for the better if implemented in a similar way to this.
Edit: Clarifying that i would be referring to more accurate representation of infantry, not Fencers from the EDF series that are more at home fighting giant robots than tanks.