I think I'm finally ready to come out to my mom. As ready as I think I'll ever be anyway. I'm worried about the letter though, every time I start thinking of what to write, it reads so harsh or hurtful, idk how much I really need to put out there, like I want her to know how serious this is, life and death, but there's some things a child shouldn't tell their parents...
I don't know how to strike a balance of understanding but firm boundaries, the severity of how important this is and how unforgivable certain things would be without hurting her or being very harsh because I attack when I feel vulnerable.
So far ik I want to explain the difference between drag, crossdressing, and trans identity. I'm going to tell her idc about pronouns or even dressing up rn because I'm not ready for social transition. I don't want to tell her about diy, but I will tell her tampering with my meds or sabatoging my transition will be unforgivable to me and the many reasons why.
I don't want to tell her how close I was to ending it all last year, or that I've been a walking corpse with an expiration date tied to her own since 16 and her own words 4 months ago galvanized me to chose life for the first time in over a decade, to choose to try HRT. But that feels pretty important to say if I want her to understand.
Or maybe it's better to be cold and clinical.
I'm gonna freestyle something real quick, please help soften when needed or any advice at all. Tw: all of em.
Hey mom you've had lots of questions this past year. I've deflected and deflected, refusing to answer, but not trying to hide it too much either, I know you've seen signs that we haven't talked about too, well it's time I answer them.
I'm trans. It took a decade to ever even attempt to experiment, so scared of it being something more, a year of questioning and research after the lowest point in my life last March, every step towards femininity assuring me i was right. I've been on estrogen for 2 months now and I'm only more sure now than ever. I don't expect your understanding or full acceptance, it's taken me a while to accept it myself. I only expect your compassion and love, the woman that's always been in my corner to remain in my corner as I enter the hardest fight in my life thus far.
This is not a sex thing, ik why you think it is, but Ethan is just a friend. I'm still a virgin and I'm not gay, I am bi, preferance is women, but still thats a recent thing i accepted too, but ik you don't really see the difference there either if I like some guys I must be gay, that's OK idc how you see it.
This isn't porn warping my mind, and if it was the drop in libido would nip that in the bud quickly, a boon I was not expecting, but honestly one of my favorite parts about transitioning so far and has helped my mental state a lot in addition to my brain now being on the right fuel. I've never been happier in my life than I have these past 2 months.
Crossdressers do this and it hurts no one. They do it for a lot of reasons but I am not a cross dresser, in fact I've only ever worn panties and one time a bra. I'm also not a drag queen, I have no interest in performing on stage.
Things had to line up in a very specific way for you to be reading this note right now and not another kind of note at some point in the future after the repression hit me when I was 40 with kids and a wife or something. Dad had to practically disown me for me to want to be selfish enough to say fuck it and choose to have some kind of fun before I died fully. As I've been truthfully half dead since as a teenager, who almost had his mom die in the hospital, i had decided that wouldn't even try and live through that pain. That led me to experiment which led to many many questions and a lot of tears and more than a few realizations and memories surpressed.
Through all the questions and steps along the way, my mask cracking and pieces of me peeking through, your words broke me outta that spell of half death and I chose life. You thought I was waiting on you to be gone for me to live like you were the problem. I had already accepted I was trans before then but I couldn't do anything because of the shame it would bring you. The drama, you're likely to lose friends over this if you choose your child and you risk losing me if your friends words turn your confusion or anguish over a future imagined version of me is dying into hate or spite.
I worry that you'll call me all the vile things what strangers and coworkers already whisper. That you'll run me out of our home over something somehow both as trivial as makeup clothes and the shape of my own body, and as important as life or death. Because your words the other day will never come to pass, when I said "I hate old men" grumbling about work, and you said "stop that, God willing you'll be one one day." I'll die first. Pandoras box is open and I can't go back to mere existence when life feels so nice.
Trying to force this lid shut will only at best sever ties between a mother and child and at worst simply snuff out my light for good. Oh and bonus it'd probably put me in menopause by now to stop.
I'm moving at my own pace I'm nowhere near ready to call myself a woman, let alone dress like one I do not expect you to call me one. HRT is slow, but at some point between the weight loss this all has inspired, yeah thats why I've stuck with it this time, between that and HRT growing boobs and the small things I'm working on like exercising and eventually laser facial hair removal, it's going to be hard to hide likely this year, well if im lucky like I have been so far.
Really don't know how to end this. I'm sorry this made you cry, I'm sorry if this brings you shame or embarrassment down the line, I give you full permission to talk about this with your friends, the only opinion I ever cared about is yours and Lana's, I'd rather not be out right now publicly or to all your friends, but I'll not hold it against you to seek consul from them either. Hopefully we can move past this and grow and you'll come to understand me better than the pieces I've let peek through all my life feeling like I had something to hide even from family, especially from family even.
If not, just know that I'll always love you mom, but stopping or going back to being your little boy is asking me to die. I'll always be your baby, I just hope you'll see a living daughter is better than a dead son, even if they're weird and you don't get it.
I love you mom ❤️.

In 1965 I was twelve years old.
My father made the news for killing my mother. He was certain that she had been cheating on him while he was at work, but I don’t see how that was even possible. My mom and I never got any sleep, for my father worked third shift and he would call home every chance he got. If she didn’t answer, she would get punished when he got home. One morning he took it too far. I was already at school when my neighbor came and picked me up during math class. He told me that my father was in jail and that my mother was about to die. There was no subtlety in those days, no sugar-coating the truth. You swallowed it down whole and raw.
I was at my mother’s side when she finally breathed her last. Her face was unrecognizable, swathed in bruises and lacerations. She was unconscious. There were no last words, no ‘I Love You’, no response to my wailing, nothing but a few last gasps of air.
The ‘best interest of the child’ was an alien principle to the inhabitants of the small town I grew up in. Convenience- that’s what mattered. The easiest place to put me was with my grandfather, the father of my father, and there wasn’t much difference between the two. The genetic code that instills in another human being a lack of empathy was prevalent on this side of my family. I had to endure my grandfather blaming my mother for her own death.
“She brought it on herself. If she would have just minded her manners,” he would often say. If it wasn’t that, it was something else derogatory about my mother. There was a snide remark every day. He would throw it in my face. He hated me because I looked less like his son, and more like my mother. With some strange morbid logic applied, I believe he also blamed me. If it wasn’t for me, his son would not be in jail.
I hated the man and I felt that one day it was going to get violent. I may have only been twelve, but Sarge, as he made me call him, was in his eighties and I could have easily pounded the man into oblivion if I really wanted to, and of course, I really wanted to. Sarge- why? Because he said he was a Sergeant in World War I, but I didn’t believe it. I never saw any evidence of that nor seen any photos. If he had been in the Great War, wouldn’t there be something hanging on the wall or on his fireplace mantle? No, he was a liar like my father, wrapped up in a make-believe world, far from the truth of his pitiful reality.
I spent as little time as possible in that house. Most of my days were spent down the road on Mr. Baker’s property, hunting small game like rabbits, dove, and squirrels with my 22-caliber rifle. Mr. Baker was a nice man and I wished I could have lived with him. He didn’t mind me hunting on his land, as long as I stayed away from the forest on the other side of his property. He claimed that there was something not right in those woods. Often, his dog Dolly, a Golden Retriever with an inexhaustible amount of energy, would accompany me on my hunting excursions.
I often came home empty-handed, but there were those days where I became obsessed. I couldn’t leave the field without a quarry, but more importantly, I didn’t want to go back home to that hateful old man. Sometimes, I imagined he was in my sights, that he was the hunted, and I the hunter.
Dolly was not an obedient dog. On some occasions I loved having her around to flush out the underbrush. Other times, she was a colossal pain. I would hunt up to the fence line that split Mr. Baker’s property from the much-maligned forbidden forest he often warned me against. One late afternoon, with nothing shot or killed, I got desperate, and climbed over the barbed-wire fence and trekked down the hill to a patch of bamboo growing by a small dried out streambed. I crossed over to a thick forest of trees, grass, and honeysuckle, abuzz with life, the sounds of insects slicing the air and rodents plowing through the undergrowth. I knew I had found the perfect spot. I spied a little rabbit gnawing on some clover. I slowly pulled my gun up, aiming, ready to shoot, and then Dolly came crashing through like a bulldozer through a flowerbed. The rabbit scurried away, but kept its course straight. I made a hasty, but careful pursuit, trying to be quick but ready to stop and hold still when the opportunity presented itself.
“Damn dog,” I murmured to myself.
“Damn dog,” something ahead repeated.
“Who’s there?” I inquired.
There was nothing but silence. Dolly had stopped about ten feet east from me, refusing to move any further. It seemed darker than normal in this area of the woods. Up ahead was a circle of Juniper trees, and beyond that a glade, an opening in the middle, devoid of life.
The rabbit I was pursuing appeared near the glade. Instinctively I begin to resume my hunt, absorbed in the moment, casually brushing aside the voice I had imagined. The rabbit stopped, I raised my gun, and as I went to squeeze the trigger, I saw the rabbit move into the glade and fall to its side. It’s legs frantically kicking about, as if something had a hold of it and it was struggling for life. Then it stopped, lifeless and staring out of one exposed black eye into the darkness of eternity. I noticed that it wasn’t the only carcass lying about. There were birds, squirrels, and other rabbits strewn across the open landscape. Some skeletal, others partially rotted, and some, like my rabbit, fresh and recently deceased. The smell was thick with putrid, decaying corpses.
Dolly saw the easy prey, her passion overriding her instinct and fear, leapt into the glade and fell on her side, just as the rabbit had done. She began kicking and yelping. Her cries were pitiful, a sad song for help I couldn’t resist. She wasn’t dead yet. Maybe I still had a chance. I crawled up to the edge of the glade, reached in, and grabbed her by the paw. My hand felt icy and stiff, the blood flowing through the veins in my hand felt like powdered glass. I pulled with all my strength.
“Timmy?”
I looked up to see my mother standing in the middle of the glade, beautiful and young, not at all like I had ever seen her in my own young life. She was a teenager, with a wistful smile, and a visible yearning in her eyes, the vision of which spoke to my soul that she missed me, that she wanted me to come to her in the glade. I was ready and willing, leaning more towards her and loosening my grip on Dolly. I felt a comforting warmness in my stomach, and an urge to bring solace to my lonely forsaken mother.
At that very moment a deer sprinted into the glade and stumbled to the ground. Out of nowhere an apple tree had appeared, with fallen apples scattered in abundance around the trunk. It was a vision, a lure dangled by a hunter, a hunter other than me, one with a more mysterious and a much more effective weapon.
I came out of my daze and yanked as hard as I could, pulling Dolly and myself from the invisible web we were entangled in. A part of the earth in the glade opened up like a trap door, and pouncing out like a spider was a creature like a man, crawling on all fours, with two small claw-like appendages extending out from its torso. It had dark skin with standing hair all over its body, like a tarantula. Its face looked human, but with sharp teeth and four red gelatinous eyes.
It would stand like a human and then crawl like a spider. It seemed confused and moved in quick sporadic motions. There was more than enough meat to choose from, but from its gestures I gathered it favored living meat, with blood still circulating. It was looking at the deer, but inching towards me. It was deciding between the easy already provided food, or the much more tastier living food- me.
The creature was walking backwards. Every now and then it would quickly turn its head, peek, and make sure I was still there, all the while backing up towards me. I felt around for my rifle, found it and pulled it up to my shoulder. The creature turned, with outstretched arms and appendages, leapt towards me. I pulled the trigger. One red eye exploded and the creature shrieked and fell outside of the glade. It writhed in pain as if the air outside of the glade was toxic.
I got up and ran away from the glade, calling Dolly after me. She raced past me up the hill and under the barbed wire fence. I glanced back as I was running. I saw the earthen door fall shut. The creature had survived.
I didn’t go hunting, or even go outside, for a few months. I was willing to take the abuse of my grandfather. Many times, I imagined taking Sarge down to the glade and pushing him inside, but his time was already limited. I don’t know how he lived as long as he did, smoking three packs of cigarettes a day. It seems that stubborn evil folk live longer than the rest of us.
Over time temptation got the better of me. I eventually made my way back down to the glade. I missed my mother. It was a calculated risk. I had my gun and if I kept my distance, I would be safe. On several occasions I got to see the vision of my young mother, but in time they became shorter in duration. The creature knew I had figured out its game and would no longer reward me with anymore visions. On the next to the last visit there were no apparitions of my mother. I waited, but nothing. The earthen door lifted. I saw three red eyes peering from the ground.
“I will eat you one day damn dog.”
My last visit to that devilish grotto reveled that the creature had moved on. There was no glade, no empty land, nor an opening in the canopy. The spot was filled with invasive honeysuckle, thick with life and the pleasant aroma of flowers, and yet, it saddened me, because the most beautiful flower of all was gone. Amidst the violence and death, was the forlorn life of my mother.
I am now seventy years old, decrepit and weak, without the use of my legs. Diabetes and heart disease are killing me, but there is another death nearby, one less indifferent and relishing the suffering I am now enduring. It is prolonging my passing, giving me agony and yet giving me hope. I know that the fiend has found me again. The air feels suffocating in my room. The more my heart pumps, the more the circulating blood causes me agonizing pain. I suffer, but I endure because for the last several nights I have seen an apparition of my mother, the dying flower in the middle of the glade.

Hey there, readers! Here's chapter five for your reading pleasure! Please consider leaving a comment or review as those really do just pick me right up!
I've Been Reincarnated as a Bunny Girl?! (Chapter 5)
by
ShadowDragon88
A fine drizzle was coming down on the town of Starlight Rose. A familiar wolf-kin beasta in red robes that appeared to be shimmering despite the cloudy gloom of the day was walking along the main road. In his right hand, he held a long polished oak staff, topped with a red glowing gemstone the size of his fist. In his left hand, held away from his body, was a tan leather satchel, the drawstring tied in a knot. It appeared full, and seemed to shudder and wriggle. Felixin smiled and nodded to passing villagers.
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"Hey there, Felixin," came the rumbling voice of Earl Shatterknuckle. The blonde dwarf, presently wearing just simple brown leather trousers, fell in step beside his taller friend. Felixin looked down at the dwarf, whose smaller frame was bulging with muscles, with blue and gold glowing tattoos tracing intricate spider-web-like symbols across his chest and arms, smiling back.
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"Good day to you, Earl," the wolf said. There was a spitting-chittering sound coming from the bag, making Felixin pause and frown before giving the satchel a good whack with his magical staff. "Quiet, you!" he hissed at it.
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"Caught yourself another evil spirit, eh?" Earl said with a smirk.
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"Oh yes, and this one was quite the nasty piece of work. I'm on my way back to my lab to properly dispose of it. I think it's from some destroyed remnant of Eld technology, one of the ones that gained sentience, or at least some spiritual semblance to it," Felixin said as he gave the bag another whack when it started to make some electronic beeping sounds.
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"Oh?" Earl asked, curious. "I remember more than once we had some nasty run-ins with Eld-tech back when we were adventurers."
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"I remember you and Melthi being the ones to turn the blasted machines on, both times when cautioned not to," Felixin said pointedly, making the dwarf chuckle.
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"What can I say? We're both curious by nature!"
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"Yes, that's one word for it," Felixin said with a smile, remembering his adventuring days and the party of friends he would regularly travel with. "Anyways. For some reason, about six years ago, they suddenly became much more prevalent. Thankfully, their numbers have been dropping back down over the years."
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"What makes you think this one is from Eld tech?"
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"It kept saying 'Does not compute!' over and over again, while also identifying some kind of rabbit threat." Felixin's mood seemed to shift and his ears laid back on his head, while his tail dipped, almost long enough to drag on the ground behind him. "And when it mentioned rabbits, it made me think of my little princess."
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Earl rolled his eyes as he reached up and clapped the town wizard on the back. "Ah, Kiana'll be back to visit before you know it."
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"I know... it's just, one minute she was this little delicate baby girl, and the next minute, she was this amazing young woman, all ready to up and go out."
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"Didn't Kiana kick down a couple of brick walls when she was a baby?" Earl asked, scratching his head. Felixin waved a dismissive paw at that.
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"Pure coincidences. Those walls were clearly unsound and improperly constructed, so much so that when she was having one of her tantrums just a little punch or kick was enough to send them tumbling down. We're lucky she wasn't hurt or scared, just confused and curious more than anything. Anyways, I just get so worried when I think of her, out there on the open road. Just so... vulnerable. Thankfully I made sure to instill in her a proper sense of caution." Earl snorted at that.
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Meanwhile...
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Kiana let out a roar of fury as her trusted tetsubo connected with the raised steel shield of the bandit before her. The metal dented and warped just as the bandit, shield and all, became airborne. They traveled in an arc straight towards a stone tower connected to an old run-down fort the bandits had holed up in. The screaming man smashed into the top of the tower, crumbling it, his screams instantly going silent.
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"Fire!" Kiana heard a deep voice shout. There were several blasts and, thanks to Kiana's speed, she watched as five cannonballs headed in her direction. To the ordinary person, the black metallic spheres were probably nearly impossible to follow. To Kiana, it looked as though they were moving incredibly slow. She simply stepped aside from four of them, letting them explode into the nearby hillside. As the fifth one hurtled her way, she crouched slightly, raising her tetsubo like a baseball bat. She swung and smacked the cannonball, her tetsubo making a loud DING, and sent it flying right back where it had come from. The two bandits manning the cannon were obliterated along with the weapon itself, as well as a good chunk of the fort wall.
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"She's some kind of demon!" one of the bandits cried. The man, really more of a boy, no older than Kiana, leapt down from the fort wall onto a carriage they had recently stolen from some traveling aristocrats. He then leapt onto the ground and sprinted out into the forest, stripping off the black cloak with the red eye in the center.
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"DAMMIT!" the bandit leader cursed, pulling off his tricorn hat and dabbing his bald sweaty head with a handkerchief. While the remaining men were busy barring the windows or reloading and firing the cannons, he was gnashing his teeth. After a moment's hesitation, he pointed to a nearby subordinate. "You! Follow me. We'll unleash the troll on her."
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The other bandit paled, audibly gulping. "Th-the troll? Are you sure th-that's wise?" Just as he finished asking that, another cannonball destroyed another cannon, making the entire structure shudder.
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"We don't have any other options. Hopefully, after it kills her, it'll be injured enough for us to finish it off... or the other way around if she kills it." The other bandit grimaced at the options laid before them, but nodded solemnly. Outside, Kiana smacked another cannonball back at the cannon that fired it, being careful not to send it flying towards the base of the tower. According to one of the kidnapped merchants that had managed to escape and make it all the way to town, the cells where the bandits were holding their ransom victims were all on the ground floor. Kiana stopped when she heard a loud guttural roar, followed by a rapid series of loud BOOMs. Bandits ran by the windows and open holes of the fort, while the front gate slowly opened.
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Out stumbled a massive creature. Its flesh was a dark brown, and had a texture not unlike tree bark. Its long arms and legs were thicker than the old oak trees in the forest near Starlight Rose. Its gnarled hands, with thick thorn-like protrusions sticking from the knuckles, balled into fists, fists that were as big as Kiana was tall. Its barrel-chest heaved, with white criss-crossing scars in its bark-flesh. It didn't have much in the way of a neck, and its head looked just like a tree stump, complete with root-like tendrils wriggling back and forth. It's mouth was partially concealed by the tendrils, until it reared back and opened its gaping maw, revealing rows of broken yellow teeth, to let out a bellow that shook the ground. From the top of its head grew two slightly spiraling branch-like horns.
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"These idiots somehow managed to get a forest troll?" Kiana asked out loud, a smirk appearing on her face. "And this was only a gold-ranked quest? Something tells me I'm in for a sweet bonus."
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The beast stopped as its knot-like eyes, of which there were at least seven, caught sight of the bunny girl. Up above from the second story windows and holes and from on the roof, the remaining bandits, many of them injured, looked down. Most were smirking, some of the more foolish ones shouted out taunts. The bandit leader stood there, looking grim-faced, but taking some satisfaction in knowing that despite their losses today, the annoying source of their problems was about to end, one way or another.
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Kiana stuck the end of her tetsubo into the dirt, large and surprisingly quick thudding steps shaking the ground. The beast was lumbering towards Kiana, who didn't look the least bit afraid. While not intelligent enough to be truly sentient, the troll did have enough sense to know that its prey should be running. And the fact that it was just calmly standing there, staring at it, only angered it further. With a final roar, the forest troll charged forward. It balled up a massive fist, and swung straight for Kiana. Kiana swung her own fist, the two colliding.
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There was a very loud, sickening crunch and pop. The bandits looked down in shock and horror as where the now screaming troll's fist and forearm had been, there was a bloody and jagged stump that ended just above the right elbow. The troll screeched and lunged at Kiana, hoping to impale her on its horns. But the bunny girl simply kicked, knocking the head clean off the rest of its body. The head bounced off a tree and rolled for a bit, settling in the dirt, a look of surprise on the stump-like face. The rest of the body tumbled over three times before coming to a rest near the make-shift stables, where the carriages and horses of the abducted nobles were kept. Kiana looked back up at the fort, making the majority of the bandits shrink back and shudder. A few of them began to wave white tablecloths hastily tied to sticks and tree branches.
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A short time later the bandits, now in shackles, were being marched to the mechanical cart as the local sheriff and his deputies led them. Except for the severely injured ones, who were shackled to stretchers and loaded up into a seperate mechanical carriage. Kiana looked on as bodies were checked for possible survivors, there being very few to find, as the merchants and a few nobles were led by deputies out from the fort. Kiana smiled at them and nodded to their looks of awe, some of them having gotten a good look at the show of force the petite bunny girl had demonstrated. Ignoring the ones who shrank back away from her in fright, Kiana spotted the sheriff, a large older man in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper close-cropped hair and a matching mustache. He was wearing the classic green cloak, directing his deputies. He turned to face her as she approached.
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"I think that's all cleared up," Kiana said, her voice chipper, belaying the fact she had a smattering of blood and gore staining her fur.
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"I'd have to agree with you, young lady," Sheriff Tonsol said, his voice even. In truth, he had tried to avoid enlisting the aid of any adventurers until pressure from various merchants and nobility forced his hand. And even then he had expected it to involve a large party and, more than likely, some lives lost from the hostages. He was a little surprised when the girl reached into her satchel to produce a clipboard with a form on it, as well as an ink pen.
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"In that case, would you mind signing this form indicating that I completed the job satisfactorily?" Tonsol looked at the form for a minute, and then his mouth curved upwards. He let out a chuckle and signed his name on the indicated line, writing in the date as well.
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"Satisfactorily is putting it lightly, miss," he said, handing the clipboard and pen back to the bunny girl. "I had no idea that they had a forest troll in their possession. I went ahead and bumped up the reward."
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"Oh wow, thank you, sir!" Kiana said, looking excited.
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Tonsol smiled, something his deputies claimed to be a rare sight to behold. "Well, you earned it. I'm just glad you were able to get them to surrender without harming any hostages. Well, without them harming any more than the ones they did last time someone came out here to free them."
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"I'm glad I could help!" Kiana said, bowing a little. "Now, I'm going to head back into town." She spread her arms wide and indicated to herself. "I'm really in need of a bath at this point."
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"If you don't mind waiting a minute, you can ride back to town with us. It's faster than walking."
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"Oh, thanks for the offer, but I'm good." Kiana waved, before jogging back to where she'd left her tetsubo and pack, Mirabelle coiled around it protectively. She grabbed the items up, quickly looking through the travel pack to make sure she still had everything, and nodded to herself, satisfied. She slipped the pack onto her back, then scooped her pet snake into her arms, and started to jog down the road in the direction of the town of Hengecliffe. Picking up speed, she rapidly became a blur, and in just a few seconds she was coming to a sliding stop in front of the town gates, startling a couple of bored-looking guards.
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She greeted them and let Mirabelle down before they let her inside. They stared at the snake with the big pink ribbon around its neck slithering obediently behind the bunny girl. She stopped off at the local guild hall to drop off the signed paperwork and collect her now even heftier reward. She noticed a few stares in her general direction, and some unhappy grumbling from some fellow adventurers, but otherwise no one said anything.
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Kiana then headed to the town inn where she still had a room for another night. Thankful again that this world had indoor plumbing, with hot water to boot, Kiana wasted no time in stripping off her gore-coated clothes, which she would wash in the laundry room down the hall, and enjoyed a nice steamy shower. She didn't have to worry about possible intruders, as Mirabelle sat coiled on the bed, ever vigilant.
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"Today was a good day," Kiana said, stepping out of the shower and drying herself off, a feat that took several minutes with a towel. This left her gray and white fur all fluffed-out, which led to her brushing it out. Kiana had grown accustomed to the care and maintenance of her fur, taking pride in keeping it clean. She then donned her underwear and a cream-colored sundress from her pack, carefully putting her dirty clothes in the laundry sack in her pack. She smiled and stroked Mirabelle's head, the snake letting out a contented purr-like hiss.
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"I'm going to go out and enjoy the rest of the afternoon in town. You stay here and guard the pack, okay?" she asked, slipping her mithril knuckles into her dress pockets, along with a small money pouch. Mirabelle hissed, thumping her tail on the bed in response, curling up tighter around Kiana's belongings.
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"Good girl," she praised, before heading out, locking the door behind herself for good measure. Kiana smiled as she stepped out onto the paved sidewalk, carriages passing by on the street. Hengecliffe was much larger than Starlight Rose, with paved streets and even streetlights. Centrally located in a region of plains, it served as a trading hub. Kiana walked along, noticing a few men and women looking her over. Some seemed to do so with distaste, more than likely not enjoying the sight of a beasta. But most seemed to be pleasant people observing a new face.
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"Well now, if my eyes are not deceiving me, it seems that an angel from the heavens has decided to grace us mere mortals with her presence." Kiana's ears twitched at the sound of the male voice. She paused and turned, looking down an alley, where a man leaning up against the side of a building stood, looking her over. He was wearing brown leather trousers, a white linen shirt, and a belt with a large buckle which, matching the large buckles on his boots, made him look a bit like a pirate. The goatee and the cutlass sheathed at his side were also not helping.
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"Hello, beautiful," he said, giving Kiana a wink. Kiana rolled her eyes, and moved to keep walking, only to find a squat bald man standing in her way, grinning sinisterly. Kiana checked behind herself and saw another man, a larger one with a completely shaved head, arms crossed with a club under one arm. "Now, how about we all go somewhere more... private," the pirate-looking moron asked, giving Kiana a smug wink.
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"Wow, you idiots have no idea just how badly you messed up," Kiana said, walking into the alley, the two guys following right behind her. The men chuckled. Passersby stopped when they heard three loud thuds coming from the alley, all of which made the nearby buildings shudder. They saw a bunny beasta girl walking out, brushing some dust off her sundress. She smiled and waved and continued on her way, leaving behind three broken figures. Two were lying in craters in the pavement of the alley, while the third, this one with a cutlass laying at his booted feet, was standing... his head laying all the way back in a hole in the brick wall right behind him.
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Later that evening...
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Kiana was sitting just outside the town walls on a hill, watching the stars come out. After sixteen years, it still mystified her to look up at the night sky, and not see any of the old constellations. She smiled as a shooting star streaked its way across the sky. Suddenly, Kiana felt a surge of energy just course through her. Her eyes faintly started to glow with the blue light, and she felt a strange pulsing in her chest. Looking around, she felt a strange magnetic pull coming from the south.
​
Starting as a jog, Kiana soon found herself sprinting outright across the countryside. She ran, as a blur, following the pull, her eyes gradually glowing brighter and brighter, shining with the crackling blue energy. Then, she came to a stop. She stood at the foot of a mountain, itself part of a larger range. Looking up at the mass of rock and ice, she could see broiling clouds up over it, flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the rocky and snowy peaks. With one such flash, Kiana saw something move. Something big. Kiana's glowing eyes went wide.
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"Oh wooooooooow," she said, her jaw hanging open. There were rumbles as the giant coiled mass shifted. Several avalanches were caused by the serpentine body, buried under tons and tons of snow. At the very peak of the mountain, a gargantuan head rose.
​
"Is that a giant... cobra?" Kiana asked under her breath. Indeed, that was what the creature that seemed to dwarf the Spire appeared to be. In the light of the lightning, she saw that its scales were a deep blue, almost purple. There were stripes running down its back, but they were glowing a bright bioluminescent blue. That same glow radiated from the creature's reptilian eyes, and the inside of its hood. The same glowing blue as Kiana's eyes.
​
"What... are you?" Kiana asked, quietly.
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I can ask the same of you, little one, a deep female voice hissed in Kiana's head. She winced and looked around. She then looked back up at the creature, her veins flooded with adrenaline. There was another flash of lightning, and in that very instant, the creature's head was bent down low, right in front of her. Kiana almost jumped back, but stopped herself. As the snake-entity looked her over with an eye that was twice as tall as she was, Kiana felt a sense of calm overtake her.
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"Are you... a storm dragon? A real storm dragon?" Kiana asked, reaching out and touching the creature's cheek with her hand. It flicked out a blood red tongue, its mouth curling up a little at the corners.
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That is something that little ones like to call my kind, she said. Kiana figured right then and there that this was a female.
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"A monk said that... my spirit is like one of yours," Kiana said, breathlessly.
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Your soulsong feels similar to one of our kind, little one, she said, turning her head and gently nuzzling the top of Kiana's head, making her ears lay flat. The storm dragon's head was almost as large as the entirety of her hometown.
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"My... soulsong?" Kiana asked. The monk she had met hadn't said anything about them.
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The song of your innermost being. It stands out from the loud and noisy cacophony that happens when most little ones gather together in large groups. Yours is beautiful, and a little... fluttery. The dragon gave her a wink. She reared up and opened her mouth. Electricity danced between the dragon's fangs, before she shot out a sonic boom. The raging storm above abated, the clouds dispersing, leaving only a crystal clear night sky for miles and miles around. She then turned and looked down at Kiana. The bunny girl felt the storm dragon's gaze. She felt a radiating warmth coming from her. It reminded Kiana of her mother.
​
It was so nice to meet you, little one. It was quite the pleasant surprise to awaken to. She let out a proud roar, and her body began to undulate. Sections of the mountain range began to crumble as large sections of mountain were crushed and smashed by the body slamming into them. The body of the dragon rose into the air, beginning to gracefully slither about. Levitating there, partially coiled, the sheer size of the storm dragon just boggled the bunny girl's mind.
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"Will I see you again?" Kiana asked, feeling a little sad. She had just met this beautiful and amazing being, and already they were leaving.
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Of course, little one, the mental voice in her mind chuckled warmly. I have listened to your beautiful soulsong, and I have shared my soulsong with you.
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"I... I don't understand what that means," Kiana said, confused.
​
You will, little one, she said, you are still young, but my soulsong has resonated within you. When you stop and listen, it will become easier and easier to hear it. And thus, the bond has begun to form. In time, you shall understand. With a flick of the creature's tail, there was a flash of lightning that radiated from within the hood, and she was gone. Kiana stood there, her eyes readjusting to the dark.
​
"This world is so awesome," she said, a smile on her face, as she began to job back towards town. She figured that if the town gates were closed and locked, she could just jump over the wall.
​
Meanwhile...
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The lone figure stood in the dark, staring at where the great serpent had been levitating. They were sitting on a log in a small clearing, where they had set up camp. The individual in question was polishing their armor when a gray blur had shot right past them. And then, where it had been heading, the giant serpent, an actual storm dragon, arose. They sat there in stunned silence. They knew right then and there, that it had been a sign from the gods. As they unsheathed their katana, it began to thrum with magical energy, the blade becoming engulfed in bright purple flames.
​
The light of the purple flames illuminated his green face, glinting off his polished tusks. "Soon, the war shall begin," said the orc, sheathing the blade and cutting off its purple light. The same purple light shone from his eyes.
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Name: Kiana
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Species: Beasta (Rabbit-Kin)
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Age: 16
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Skills: Sibling Wrangler, Babysitter, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Master Martial Arts, Brawling, Heavy Weapon Proficiency, Sarcasm Mastery, Eyerolling Mastery, Beast Taming Level 3
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Class: (Official) Master-Level Dragon Monk: Storm Dragon School, Storm Dragon Hatchling.
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Str: 141
Int: 12
Dex: 140
Cha: 12
Wis: 10
Con: 172
Languages: Common, Draconic
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Equipment: Adventurer's Pack, Steelwood Tetsubo, Mastercraft Mithril Knuckles (x2), Rope (25 Ft.), Canteen (Full), Road Rations, Spare Clothes, Bedroll, Health Potion (x2), Books (x3)
I really hope that you enjoyed the new chapter! Thank you for reading so far!
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Just a simple question, if GoW Ragnarok is given that title, what would GoW 2018 be called to avoid confusion of the 2018 version and not the very first GoW game?

Yesterday, I had a pretty nice birthday party. People showed up, clearly cared for me and loved me, and appreciated my presence. They gave me gifts and I got to speak with them.
The problem is that I don't want to live, I don't want to continue existing.
Ever since I was 5 I mentioned how I wanted to die. My life was devoid of meaning and of joy, I was a defective child who couldn't hope to interact with anyone else. This hasn't changed in the 12 years since that day, in fact it has gotten worse and worse. Everyone else is just happier, smarter, more successful, they have meaning in life that I clearly don't have.
The worst part? I can't even die, I can't risk what might happen to my family if my life ceased to be. I am forced to watch my mind get dumber and slower, am forced to wrestle with responsibilities I couldn't hope to deal with, only to be a homeless person by the time I am finally allowed my permanent break from this world since no one will care about me then.
I am in hell, I can't find friends, my family is all I have left, and they're unstable and I'm just a burden on them if anything. Romantically I was only interested in one person, only for him to prove to be a mirage, due to my own cowardice and withdrawn personality I let him drift away with it all being my fault.
But I don't think I'll satisfy his expectations, nor of anyone else's. Even my own low expectations of making it to tomorrow might be a failed wish, I might just stab myself tonight and it'll all be over. I have done nothing but disappoint, but be a nuisance and a pest, but be a useless leech forced to live as a parasite. I am forced to live, while I can't do anything to help myself have meaning or worth, a purposeless existence that proved to be fragile. It is almost like God Himself gave me this life to toil away, that it is my punishment for whatever reason, that suicide isn't my destiny but constant pain and suffering is instead. I have a feeling for whatever reason He made me into this stupid, ugly, pathetic, useless excuse of a human being, maybe it's something I did or was, maybe it's for a greater purpose, maybe he just has a particularly odd sense of humor. Whatever the case is, I'm not allowed to die since my family will feel the effects, and I'm forced to watch my life carry through until they invariably see me as a leech and kick me out.

I finally got my chin lipo done last week after months and months or dreaming and researching. So far, my results look good and at the end of the day, that what's most important to me. But I wanted to share my experience since I wish I had read something like this before I went in. I don't think it would have deterred me from getting the procedure, but I do wish I had been more prepared. Maybe someone can learn from my mistakes.
I went to a very reputable surgeon in my area. Board certified in facial plastic surgery, stellar reviews on every possible platform. Really great before and after gallery for chin lipo specifically, it was obviously one of his most popular procedures. I thought I found the best in my area. The procedure ended up being on the pricier end of what to expect in my area, but I felt that it was worth it given his specialty and experience.
The problems started the day of my appointment. I arrive about 15 minutes early and they inform me that the surgeon is running late. Turns out he was running a whole hour late. I sat in a waiting room for almost an hour and a half. Of course during this time, I'm peeved, but I don't say anything. I don't want a rushed procedure so I'm not going to try and rush someone else's procedure. But my alarm bells really started ringing when I went to the bathroom while I was waiting and there is someone else's pee sample sitting in the sink, seemingly abandoned. That's gross. I try to shake it off and hope its just a fluke. However, full on panic ensues when I see the state of the surgery room. It's messy, disorganized, and not at all what I picture when I think of a sterile environment. It's messy but not visibly dirty, so I don't run screaming, though maybe I should have. It also doesn't help that my surgeon appears to be just as disorganized as the room. I'm internally freaking out at this point. The only thing keeping in that room is the fact that this man has a ton of documented experience, a board certification, and less than a handful of bad reviews. I've already paid and I don't even know if I'd be able to get a refund at this point. I know I'd for sure lose the deposit which was still more than I could afford to lose. So go I through with it.
The procedure itself was incredibly uncomfortable. It was local anesthesia so I was awake the whole time. The only pain was with the numbing shots and that was about a 5/10 but I'm also a baby. That was all to be expected based off my research and what he had told me pre-procedure but I was still surprised but just how uncomfortable the whole thing was. My biggest complaint about the procedure itself was that he had restrained my hands to the bed. He did not warn me ahead of time, which I do not appreciate at all. There was a female assistant in the room at all times and staff close by outside the room, so that somewhat helped my anxiety. At this point, I just wanted to be done and get out of there.
I wish I could say that was the end of the nightmare but sadly not. I was sent home with gauze wrapped around my head that added some compression, but this was to be taken off the next day. He had told me pre-procedure that he felt compression after 24 hours was unnecessary. Since just about every other surgeon on this planet recommends compression for a bare minimum of a week, I went ahead and bought a jaw bra on amazon anyway. So after taking the gauze off the next day, I pop on the compression garment and go to sleep. I wake up on post-op day 2 with the most horrendous looking rash on my neck. I'll post pictures in the comments if I can. But basically it's just absolutely nasty. Immediately I assume that I've got an infection so I call my surgeon. At this point, my surgeon has lost all of my trust so I also book an urgent care appointment. My surgeon essentially brushes off my concerns as normal and tells me to leave it alone, in a patronizing tone. The urgent care clinician said that it did not look like an infection or an allergic reaction and said that maybe the compression was to blame and to stop wearing the jaw bra. So I was left feeling absolutely hopeless and powerless with no compression options and the ugliest rash I've ever seen on my neck.
I decided that no compression was not a risk I'm willing to take and I started using some athletic tape as a form of compression. This allowed me to keep the rash area clear but still adding at least a little compression. I don't know if this method will actually work but the area feels compressed and it's at least better than nothing. So here I am, post-op day 5 with compression tape on my chin, a slightly better looking rash on my neck and all the god damn hope in the world that that was not all for nothing and I didn't just burn $5000. So far from what I can see, the results have been worth it. Which should clue you in on how desperate I was for this procedure. But holy hell this has not been easy. I've felt like I haven't taken a breath since the moment I walked into that office 5 days ago.

Hello again HFY, second story. Takes place in the same universe as my last one, no laughing matter, but doesn’t follow the same story, just goes into more detail about the HSS Fuck Physics as requested by u/Yolosnas. Any feedback or corrections are appreciated, I’m not much of a writer and I would like to improve.
Peace is the time between wars when everyone stands around reloading. At least this was the logic the humanity used to justify maintaining such a large military when there hasn’t been any sizable war in living memory.
The galaxy was big and there were many species so minor skirmishes and territory disputes were a given, but they were quickly resolved through diplomacy and never escalated beyond a single minor battle.
But humanity had developed a very “prepare for the worst hope for the best” worldview and were alway trying to make bigger and better weapons. The size and strength of their fleet were nothing to scoff at, indeed it was likely the largest in the galaxy, but they kept it hidden. A fleet like that would raise concern and questions from the more peacefully minded species, the ones who only thought about a military when it was absolutely necessary.
Unfortunately humans can also be very paranoid, and assumed other species had just as large, if not larger fleets that were also kept hidden. Thus the humans began a secret arms race against an imaginary enemy in the longest span of peace the galaxy had ever known. Humans, am I right?
What happened next was a simple system where the government offered large sums of many to any company that could design and/or develop a new weapon. Anything from a new kind of bullet or a more powerful laser to something that could crack planets like they were eggs. As promised, when a company wanting to remain anonymous for obvious reasons proposed such a weapon, the government gave a very generous compensation.
Testing it was difficult, since the destruction of an entire planet was likely to draw attention from someone, which would cause the galactic council to look a bit more closely into just how much they were spending on their military. Eventually the humans managed to test it on an unsuspecting planet and brushed any questions off by saying it had an unstable core.
The test went off without a hitch, and finally the psychotic apes had a weapon they thought couldn’t be improved upon. Where could one even go after destroying a planet?
At least until a red giant in the klantari’s territory seemed to just vanish.
Well, it didn’t vanish, the energy readings from what used to be that solar system were beyond what anyone had ever seen before, and far more than if the star had just gone supernova, so something clearly happened. But no one had any inkling of what, and the klantari couldn’t offer any answers. The humans however were certain. It was destroyed on purpose, which could only mean one thing: someone had a bigger stick.
The reaction in the human government could best be described as what happens when someone puts a bunch of bees in the tube of one of those bank drive throughs, because of course those still existed.
Once again the search for bigger and better weapons gripped the interest of any corporation with even a little engineering prowess. Many designs for a star killer were proposed and deemed infeasible, but with the promise of a massive payday at the end they kept looking.
As was inevitable, some utterly insane individual had an idea. A truly awful idea that any reasonable person would have disregarded immediately, but humans in general aren’t know to be very reasonable. The idea was to use the one thing even more volatile than a star: a blackhole. Specifically the largest one in the galaxy that happened to also be perfectly centralized, Sagittarius A.
The design was simple in principle, not so much in execution. Use the hawking radiation collected from the blackhole to warp the event horizon, creating a passageway directly to the singularity where a massive laser, also powered by hawking radiation, was focused into. What would happen after that was anyone’s guess, but it sure sounded promising. And destructive.
The biggest drawback to the plan was actually gaining access to Sagittarius A. Being the center of the galaxy, lots of hyperspace lanes traveled near it, and certain luxury space cruises saw it as an exotic attraction. The humans weren’t about to let that stop them from having the biggest gun around though so they bribed a few patrols here, brokered a deal with one of the core species there, and next thing you know, the HSS Fuck Physics was under construction. It took 7 years and most of humanity’s military budget for the next 20, but soon enough it was time to make sure the thing actually worked.
No one was entirely sure what would happen when they tried it, but it was either going to be really cool or it would destroy the universe. The day of the test fire was somehow also the first time anyone asked a very simple question.
“How do we aim this thing?”
But they weren’t about to stop the test so they initiated phase one, opening a passage way into the event horizon. Easier said than done, the process to do so would instantly make any matter that tried to pass through stop existing, but it could let light through, and what they saw, after messing around with the settings of the warp drive they were using to make this possible, was a star. After a quick check to make sure this star wasn’t surrounded by an inhabited planet, the sensor station gave the go ahead to fire away.
What happened next almost tore the very fabric space time as the stored energy of 24 months of hawking radiation was released in 24 seconds. The next thing anyone knew once existence settled down was that the star was gone.
It was only at this point that the sensors station realized the star had been a red giant in the klantari’s territory.
Somewhere on earth a grave burst open and the pissed off corpse of Erwin Schrödinger rose from the dead.
This is of course just a long winded way of asking a rather simple question: Who wrote Beethoven’s fifth?
https://youtu.be/u4SEDzynMiQ

Hi, I'm a fairly new player having started from early March. So far I've spent a bit in SC and am looking for some advice/suggestion in rounding out my fleet. The ships I own right now are:

• MSR: Mainly used as a daily driver and to ferry refined goods to TDD to sell
• Prospector: making money with mining, no surprises there
• Nomad: this one I actually don't really fly all that much. Upgraded from a Fury and intend to use it for upgrade later on
• Mustang Alpha: game pack, same deal with the Nomad minus the intention to upgrade.
• Vanguard Sentinel: for bounty hunting. Love this thing.
• C1 Spirit: future daily drivesmall volume hauler. Can consider upgrading to E1 if that ship is interesting or if passenger gameplay gets implemented.

I'm thinking of some options as followed:

• Upgrading the MSR to C2: heavily considering this option. I love the idea of owning a C2 but realistically the MSR fits better with how much time I can play SC. I've never managed to have enough time to fill the whole of the MSR's cargo with refined goods. Best I've been able to do is about 105SCUs. Plus the MSR will open up data gameplay later but the C2 open up bulk trading so really torn on this one.
• Get a Vulture: melted my old Vulture when 3.18.1 came out with the scanner bug leaving me unable to find free floating panels. Love salvage enough to consider getting another Vulture for chilling.
• Get a Sabre/another small fighter: love the design of the Sabre but irked by its poor performance. Still might get it or another light/medium fighter to deal with smaller, faster targets in the early stages of bounty hunting.
• Finally, go big and get a Galaxy: again, love the look of the ship but not enticed by it being a concept for god know how many years later. Kind of interested in trying out the loaner Carrack though.

So those are what I'm thinking right now. I'm trying to cut down on spending on SC so the next move I take will be the last for the foreseeable future. Max I can do is the Galaxy.
If you have any advice or suggestions I'd love to hear it. Sorry for the long post. Cheers!

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Starting from the left: 1st, Nicolas Conver preserved in la Bibliothèque nationale de France; 2nd, Nicolas Conver from Phillipe Camoin’s private collection, printed from the 1760 plates in the late 1800s, so after a century of wear; 3rd, the Conver-Ben-Dov restoration (2010); 4th, the 2019 Anna Maria Morsucci Marseille Tarot
La Papesse is probably the most difficult of all the TdM trumps to talk about, so over the years, people writing commentaries and revamping historic decks have discovered all kinds of creative ways to not talk about the image or subtly (or not so subtly) rework it to bring her into alignment with what they want her to be. Alejandro Jodorowsky, as an example of the not-so-subtle, gives her an egg to hatch and claims this to be the restoration of a detail lost to the inevitable corruptions of time. His student, Yoav Ben-Dov, lands on the more subtle side: although his card appears to be an exact reproduction of the Nicholas Conver, Ben-Dov makes the slightest alteration at the corners of her mouth, so she appears to be smiling. He also gives her a more human appearance by adding a bit of color to her face – warming her up, so to speak.
Ben-Dov does not explain these modifications in his book The Open Reading; he does say in his introduction, “The CBD Tarot de Marseille [is] an edition of the cards that I restored from the most influential historical deck originally published by Nicolas Conver in 1760.”
It may seem like a small thing; however, it changes the way we respond to the figure on a subconscious level. Though Conver did not have the technology available in 2010, when the CBD deck was published, he did have the ability to add flesh tones to his decks. While the Popess’s face is white, her hands are flesh-toned; further, the woman in the 17th arcanum, Le Toille, is flesh-colored, as is le Diable and the world dancer in XXI Le Monde. In XX Le Jugement, the figure rising from the dead is bluish, but the man and woman kneeling in prayer by the coffin are flesh-colored, as is one of the dogs in La Lune and the two children in Le Soleil. We can only conclude that the choice of a white face was by design and not due to practical considerations, and Conver’s choice was in keeping with the tradition begun by Noblet, Dodal, and Madenié. The only historical TdM type-I or type-II deck I am aware of that shows la Papesse with a flesh-colored face is the 1736 Francois Chosson (though he does not have her smiling).
The CBD Popess is more relatable and approachable than her counterpart in the 2019 Morsucci TdM, also based upon Conver, allowing Ben-Dov to present her as a kind of guardian of secrets, a modernized Sophia. When her face is white, however, she appears drained of warmth, passion, life.
Other figures in the parade of trumps also have white faces, but they do not appear as lifeless as la Papesse; le Bateleur, for instance, is engaged in his performance; le Pape is teaching or giving a sermon; l’Hermite is seeking truth; the charioteer is preparing for a journey. La Papesse has an open book on her lap, but she is not absorbed in reading it: the card captures her in a moment of inattention. Some construe this as meditation, and it is possible, though her white face and her lack of expression seem to belie this interpretation.
Everything about her is suggestive of oppression: she is cloistered, presumably alone; her heavy robes hide every trace of her feminine nature (only her face and hands are visible); not a strand of hair escapes her wimple; and a quick Google search for how much her papal tiara weighs yields a result of 18 lbs. Le Pape, arcanum V, wears the same crown, but in that card, he is acting in his role as Pope; the three-tiered crown is a symbol of his office, so we understand why he has it on. (We can also imagine he removes it the moment he is alone.) Since there does not seem to be a reason for la Papesse to subject herself to its weight when she is by herself, reading a book; we might reasonable conclude that its presence is symbolic of a ponderous burden.
Ben-Dov writes, “The title band at the top of the card is exceptionally narrow, which makes the tip of the Popess’ tiara extend high when compared to other cards. This may indicate a higher kind of wisdom or intuition from a sublime source.” It is an attractive inference, though I wonder whether he would have thought it had he been forced to wear an 18 lb. weight on his head for a lengthy period of time beforehand.
Ben-Dov makes a connection to Sophia; other commentaries associate La Papesse to other deities that make even less sense. Alice Ekrek writes in the guide packaged with her 2020 TdM, “The High Priestess is also described as the veiled Isis. In the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, she is seated between two pillars which represent the great universal principles and mark the entrance to the great temple…” She evokes Isis not because anything in her card stimulated the association but because she has no interest in La Papesse whatsoever and does not even try to hide the fact and defaults to the Waite-Smith card; she even calls her TdM figure The High Priestess, and she is not alone in making this connection. Sallie Nichols writes in Jung and Tarot:
“Although she is called the Popess, she is not literally the pope’s wife. Since, in sequence, she follows the Magician, who is a priestly wise man, or magus, we may think of her as a High Priestess, which is what she is actually called in some of the modern decks. The Magician represents the primary yang, or masculine creative principle. The Popess can be seen to symbolize the primary yin, or feminine aspect of the godhead. She embodies the qualities of Isis, Ishtar, and Astarte, all goddesses who reigned over the rituals of women’s mysteries. In her spiritualized aspects she appears as the Virgin Mary and as Sophia, Divine Wisdom. Her number two is a number sacred to all female deities.”
It is baffling. Isis is most frequently depicted as a young mother suckling her infant son Horus, but she is in many other images portrayed as a winged goddess. If la Papesse was ever a mother, that identity has long since been left behind; she does not have wings, nor can we imagine her escaping the bonds of gravity and soaring through the heavens. Ishtar is a spirited goddess, associated with love and war; we see her standing upon a lion in one ancient representation; with her white face and lack of expression, la Papesse appears void of passion. Astarte displays her naked breasts, for she is a goddess of fertility; la Papesse denies her carnal nature by submerging herself in her papal robes.
Isis wall painting in the tomb of Seti
Isis left and Nephthys right as kites attending mummy 13th century BCE
There was a time when feminine deities were powerful and vital; they would not recognize the Popess as one of their own. The patriarchal religions have all but eliminated feminine spirit from their orders; what little remains is sexless, joyless, anemic.
Ishtar and La Papesse from Marteau deck preserved at Yale (deck Nichols was using)
La Papesse is one of the two saddest cards in the Tarot de Marseille parade of trumps. The other is Le Mat, the mad man who wanders not because he has a deep desire to see the world, but because the world has moved on without him, and he has no place in it. He is dressed as a court jester, a position that had been all but eliminated during the period when the Tarot de Marseille imagery was being developed. The skills that had served him so well for centuries were no longer desired as Europe moved through the final years of the Renaissance, except in a few courts, primarily in Russia, Spain, and Germany. We see some of the Fool’s sadness in Shakespeare’s King Lear, and though the play itself supposedly took place sometimes around the 8th century B. C., the end of the tradition was at hand in Shakespeare’s England; it pervaded the collective psyche and Shakespeare’s writing.
La Papesse never had a place. There was a never a time when she would have been accepted in the Catholic Church. There was a popular legend about a Pope Joan – a woman who disguised herself as a man in order to become a priest and then move up through the Church’s hierarchy to occupy the pope’s throne: predictably, it did not end up well for her. I imagine the tale appealed to people’s sense of the absurd, particularly in juxtaposition to such a serious and powerful institution as the Catholic Church The tale is well-known and mentioned in many commentaries, as is the story of the very real Manfreda Visconti, pictured in the second trump of the Visconti-Sforza deck (c. 1492). For a more comprehensive treatment, I recommend Michael S. Howard’s blog:https://tarotchristianbasis.blogspot.com/2016/11/popesshigh-priestess.html
But all this deflects from the card before us represents a poignant melancholy. It is an unpleasant reminder that the realities of life, often, fail to meet our aspirations. This realization leaves us feeling deflated, wondering what meaning is left for us to discover; it is little wonder that we have tried to leave la Papesse behind. Waite and Smith de-aged her, gave her robes of flowing water, replaced her papal tiara with the cow’s horns and sun disk of Hathor, put the crescent moon at her feet, and named her The High Priestess, making her divorce from the Church final. Crowley once again bares her breasts that she might reclaim her original power; Robin Wood puts her, a young woman with long, flowing black hair, outdoors in a clearing on the night of the full moon with a crystal ball in her hand.
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High Priestess from Waite-Smith (left); Allister Crowley's Thoth deck (center); Robin Wood tarot (right)
Perhaps this evolution was inevitable and necessary, yet it is not part of Tarot de Marseille tradition and wanting it to be will not make it so. The Popess illustrates the feeling of being trapped in an inauthentic life which most, if not all, people experience at some point in their lives. It is not pleasant, but it is entirely human.

Stuff not based on feats and instead of random lines of dialogue and unassociated myth or legend
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Games like dmc,doom eternal and god of war
do you like the scaling for these verses and think the more ''lore'' based scaling is fine
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Or do you prefer the more feat based arguments that are used in every other verse except these special lore series for some reason

In the ancient days of the Continent of Saridon, the kingdoms of elves and men warred ceaselessly with the Ember Tyrants, a cabal of great flame, crimson, bloodfire, volcano, and inferno dragons, and their seemingly numberless ogre servitors. At the end of the great war, the souls of the greatest of the Ember Tyrants were struck down by the most powerful of the revered elven magi with the three doomed blades known as Lightning, Thunder, and Storm. For 4,444 years, none have heard aught of these departed draconic lords. However, fell rumors are afoot in the Exalted Duchy of Khaslaya that say that the fell spirit of Ashikari, Queen of Fire, and her dread clutch known as the Six Fingers of the Final Flame has returned in a shadowed form to Saridon, and that the only means of returning their vengeful shades to an eternal sleep is the recovery of the storied elven blades...
This will be a homebrew and 3pp. intense rules setup -- gestalt, unchained action economy,elephant in the room feat tax, background skills, skill unlocks, 3pp. classes, etc. The game is going to be between 50/50 to 75/50 roleplay/combat, and have significant sandbox elements around a general plot arc. Some of my main literary inspirations are Dragonlance: Age of Mortals, Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, and the Obsidian Trilogy.
I do a lot of maps and world building detail, and you should be interested in those elements of the tabletop experience.I am going to use a mix of the Tarrasque VTT and Foundry. You should have a good internet connection and sturdy computing rig that can handle stuff like animated maps.
If you're interested, please make an account and check into the Game Recruitment Thread on RPG.net

Accepting Paypal FF or Venmo.

Firm on single title. Can think about reasonable consideration in multiple title.

Special/ New Release

• BlackLight (2022) - MA HD - $6
• Creed 3 - 4k Vudu - $12
• Creed 1,2,3 collection HDX Vudu - $14
• Dungeons and Dragons Honor Among Thieves 4k Vudu/4k itunes - $13
• Dungeons and Dragons Honor Among Thieves Hd Vudu/4k itunes - $old
• Everything everywhere all at once - Vudu - 4K/UHD - $7.5
• Indiana Jone Collection 4k itunes/ HD Vudu - $15
• Mission impossible 1-6 (4k itunes only, split code. redeem only in itunes ) - $15
• Rocky: The Knockout Collection (Rocky 1 - 4 + Rocky vs. Drago The Ultimate Director's Cut) 4K vudu only $16

4k movies

• Deepwater horizon - (4k itunes only) - $2
• Hell or High Water - (4k itunes only) - $2
• Red 2 (4k itunes only) - $2
• Spider-Man No Way Home - MA 4k - $6
• Thor: Ragnarok (2017) (itune 4k , port via MA, no dmi) - $3
• xXx: Return of Xander Cage - (4k itunes only) - $2

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HD Bundle

• How to train your dragon (3 movie collection) - $old
• Die Hard 1-5 HD MA - $15

Vudu HD/ Itune 4k

• A quiet place (Vudu HD or 4k itune) - $2
• GodFather 1 (Vudu HD or 4k itune) - $4
• Nobody's Fool (Vudu HD or 4k itune) - $3
• What Men Want (Vudu HD or 4k itune) - $2

HD Movies

• Allied (HD Vudu only) - $1
• Arrival (HD Vudu only) - $1
• The Best Man Holiday (HD MA) $1
• Boyhood (itunes only HD) - $1.5
• Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (HD MA, no DMI)- $3
• The greatest showman (HD MA) - $2
• The Lighthouse (2019) - Vudu - HDX - $4
• once upon a time in Hollywood - (HD MA) - $5
• Seriously Red -Vudu - HDX - $4
• StillWater (2021) - MA HD - $6
• Spiderman far from home (HD MA) $3
• Transformers 4 (Age of Extinction) (Vudu HD only) - $1.5
• Troll - (HD MA) $1.5
• World War Z (itunes only HD) - $2
• Young Sherlock Holmes - (Vudu HD or itune HD) - $3

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GP HD port via MA (No DMI)

• Alien (1979) - $2
• The Avengers (2012) - $4
• Beauty and the Beast (2017) - $2
• Cruella - $3
• Lady and the Tramp - $3
• The Last Duel (2021) - $4
• The Little Mermaid - $2
• The Lone Ranger (2013) - $3
• Monkey Kingdom - $2
• Queen of Katwe - $2
• Ron's Gone Wrong - $2
• Thor: Ragnarok (2017) - $1
• Toy Story 4 - $1
• Thor: Love and Thunder - $3
• Star Wars - A new hope - $4
• Star Wars - The empire strikes back - $4
• Star Wars - Return of the Jedi - $4

TL;DR: A mischievous office coffee thief pushes one coffee lover too far. They respond with a diabolically spicy revenge plan, brewing a blend of habanero pepper, wasabi, and jalapeno extract. The thief unknowingly drinks the fiery concoction, leading to coughing, wheezing, and a lesson learned. The office is left glitter-obsessed, and the coffee supplies remain untouched. Remember, sometimes the pettiest revenge can be the most satisfying, but communication and sticky notes are still recommended.
Hey, fellow Redditors! Gather around and let me regale you with a tale of my triumph over an office coffee thief. Strap in, folks, because this is one petty revenge story you won't want to miss!
Picture this: a seemingly normal workplace, complete with the typical blend of water cooler gossip, stapler wars, and the eternal struggle for control over the office thermostat. But lurking among us was a shadowy figure—the Coffee Thief. Dun dun dunnnn.
Now, I consider myself a peaceful coffee lover. My mornings depend on that sweet elixir to keep me sane and, let's be honest, avoid turning into a full-blown office monster. But this sneaky bandit had been stealing my coffee beans, leaving me stranded in the wasteland of decaf despair.
Enough was enough! It was time to concoct my revenge, and I had just the plan. I dusted off my chemistry skills (thank you, high school!) and decided to create a potion so diabolically petty that even Shakespeare would be impressed.
I spent countless nights experimenting with various substances and concoctions. My kitchen turned into a mad scientist's laboratory, and my cat gave me judgmental stares from atop the fridge. But after several hilarious mishaps involving exploding coffee mugs and foam-filled mishaps, I finally stumbled upon my masterpiece: The Bewitched Brew.
This magical blend was an amalgamation of habanero pepper, wasabi, and a dash of jalapeno extract. Oh yes, it was going to be spicy. I carefully prepared my trap, blending the fiery elixir into a seemingly innocent bag of my freshly ground coffee beans. The Coffee Thief was in for a rude awakening!
The next morning, the office buzzed with anticipation as I left my precious bait in the communal kitchen. I made sure to sprinkle some "innocent" glitter on the counter, just for added flair. As I sat at my desk, I couldn't help but giggle like a mischievous squirrel.
Sure enough, moments later, I heard a shriek from the kitchen. It was the Coffee Thief, falling victim to my vengeful concoction. The poor soul had unwittingly brewed a cup of lava and taken a gulp straight from the Devil's mug. The coughing, the wheezing, the dramatic gasping for breath—it was music to my ears.
The best part? The Coffee Thief never knew who was behind the devilish brew. They had only themselves to blame. It was the perfect blend of petty and anonymous revenge. Just the way I like it.
From that day forward, the office coffee supplies remained untouched. The Coffee Thief had learned their lesson, and I basked in the satisfaction of a victory well-earned. Plus, the entire office became mysteriously obsessed with the glitter I had left behind. Who knew a little sparkle could brighten everyone's day?
So, my dear Redditors, let this tale of triumph inspire you. Don't let the coffee thieves of the world get away with their caffeinated crimes. Get creative, embrace your inner mad scientist, and remember that sometimes the most satisfying victories are the pettiest ones.
Disclaimer: The author of this post does not condone the use of spicy substances or glitter as a means of revenge. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. If you find yourself in a similar situation, please consider resolving conflicts through open communication and the responsible use of passive-aggressive sticky notes.

For months now, I have SCREAMED about god and it being evil. Now to most this sounds insane, but some people have agreed. That’s besides the point. My god is evil “”””theory”””” is mainly an observation of nature. Now I do actually believe in evolution and I think it’s possible. But there are some things in nature that seem more like a “design” rather than just evolution, like how some bugs developed certain patterns to look like faces or eyes. That doesn’t make sense without some type of creator. Now most things in nature can be explained by evolution and make some sense, the universe makes sense if it was made by entropy. But I feel if we REALLY look at life, some of it is way to good to be true( I mean intricate when I say to good to be true). I mean many people like the saying “nature is evil” here but deny a creator. The main reason I was so furious is because most of the stuff posted on here is really good evidence for an evil god I feel. I felt that I really didn’t need to explain myself when people post new evidence here every day. But maybe I’m wrong. It feels right to say god ( or some evil entity ) is evil and exists but maybe I could be wrong, or it could be a lovecraftian situation. Look I’d be happy to finally have a discussion in the comments rather than my usual insanity. I truly feel this could be important to ending suffering ( even thought I don’t think ENDING it is possible) thank you.

A lot of people have theorized about Imu and the Gorosei having demonic powers. Given how the WG and Celestials are meant to be holy in their themes it seems odd to make them demonic in the final hour of the story. This is especially so since our protagonists all have a demonic or unholy theme.
Luffy- the false Pagan sun god Zoro- the king of hell Sanji- a genetically altered human with Diable/Ifrit Jambe Robin- Demon child with Demonia form Chopper- a talking animal with a literal monster form Brook- a skeleton who cheated death with the cold powers of the afterlife Franky- Half man/ half machine with the blueprints to a world ending power Usopp- a liar who is bearing false witness to a god(Luffy) Nami- a woman able to control nature's forces with the soul of a Yonko by her side Jimbe- the acolyte of the man who freed the gods slaves.

My ranking: (All besides #7 are great depending on the moment)
1: Guren no Yumiya - The first minute or so is pure gold, and so is the finale of the song.
2: Shoukei to Shikabane no Michi - Really liked the epic feel of this song, the anger and questioning
3: Shinzou wo Sasageyo - Loved the anthem feeling - especially when that chorus kicked in
4: The Rumbling - Liked the non-screamo bits in the beginning and the chorus, but overall enjoyable
5: My War - I really like the militaristic feel to it
6: Red Swan - Nothing against it, just not really something I usually want to listen to
7: Jiyuu no Tsubasa - Didn't really like it at all, also forgettable

Scenario:
it's the Horus Heresy. The Emperor and his Loyalist Legions, against his Traitor son Horus and the other Traitor Primarch.
But instead of Chaos, the Traitors have embraced The Sword Logic, and the Final Shape.
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Can the emperor and his Loyalists still prevail?
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Scenario rules:
in this scenario the Chaos Gods don't exist. The Warp still does, but it's also the same thing as the Ascendant Plane.
Horus and he other Traitor Primarchs have embraced The Darkness, and wield Stasis and Hive Magic (but not Strand) , now in varying degrees. Instead of and Chaos. Horus has the Favor of the 3 Gods of the Hive: Oryx, Xivu, and Savathun. Instead of Daemons, the Traitor legions have Taken they can call upon.
Horus and the Traitor Primarchs are Ascendant and each has their own Throneworld, and can only be permanently killed inside their Throneworld.
Assume that native 40k Psyker powers also count as paracausal. That's just a given in this scenario, psykers can match Darkness wielders, at least in theory, no arguing about it.
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How do things change? The Drop Site massacre? The attack on Calth? Imperium Secundus?
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When Magnus attempts to warn the Emperor, this time an unending tide of Primeval Taken will attempt to break into the Imperial Labs and flood the golden Throne chamber, rather than daemons.
Instead of the various Possessed or demonic Chaos Marines, there will be various strains of Taken Marines or Wrathborn marines.
When the Siege of Terra begins, besides all his traitor legions, Horus will also have Oryx's Dreadnought at his command, and Horus has the ability to Take and create new Taken. Terra will be slowly moved into the Ascendant Plane, the Sea of Screams, as the Siege goes on.
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(the Hive gods themselves are not present, they've just let Horus "borrow" their power. No pyramids or Witness either)
Instead of teleporting to Horus's flagship the Vengeance, the Emperor and his Custodes at the end will teleport to Horus's Dreadnought/Throneworld and try to kill him there.
What changes? How do events turn out? Can the Loyalists and the Emperor still prevail?

After you're done reading, please fill the survey at the end so I have your email.
For folks who haven't read Proust yet, this is how I describe it: Do you know those rare lines of really inspired writing that you find in novels, those real insights into the human condition that you underline, read many times over, and take a photograph of, those little nuggets of genius that are finally what stay with you years after you've read the novel, but are found once in perhaps 50 odd pages? These exist in Proust's writing. On every second page. It is somewhat of a tradition to read Proust in groups. I've come across a lot of groups that have met over decades to pore over Proust's every last word. Here's an article about one of them. I'm super excited to get this going, and hope many of us remain standing in this war of attrition that book clubs finally devolve into :) First Event: When and Where? Planning to have our first meetup on Saturday, June 17. Location and time TBD - please fill out the survey below so I can choose whatever's most convenient for most. How much should I read? I'm hoping this is enough time for all of us to procure the books and get at least the first 30-40 pages or so read. This will depend on the edition you're reading. But try to read at least till the chapter break. [The subsequent chapter begins with the words 'So it was that, for a long time, when, awakened at night...'] Where do I get the book? Which edition? TL;DR - it doesn't matter but I recommend choosing between the Moncrieff, Kilmartin, Enright edition OR the Lydia Davis edition (don't recommend the one just translated by Moncrieff) - but again, it's fine, the Amazon one below is great.
A survey: Definitely plan on keeping this democratic. I haven't made any decisions on whether we meet weekly/fortnightly, how much we read, etc. I would love to hear from everyone and then take a call accordingly. Asking for neighborhoods so we can figure out the best place to meet. Books: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Swanns-Way-Search-Penguin-Classics/dp/0142437964/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=in+search+of+lost+time&qid=1686011088&sprefix=in+search%2Caps%2C92&sr=8-2
Free Kindle Edition (Lydia Davis): http://library.lol/fiction/3D1D6B9F329EF836689AD59C11916A58
Second-hand books: Search on abebooks.com, it's $5ish. Abe takes a while to deliver, but you can start reading the pdf or kindle version till then. Please fill out this survey (optional) to share opinions on timing, location, frequency, etc.
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdVf9bCxn12gzuPmC8fC0z_zjdETTTUZwG8yHfAoK8b0K6XJA/viewform