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national Log in crime  Imported cannabis seeds flooding New Zealand mail system Luke Kirkeby 11:00, Nov 27 2018  STUFF About 19,000 cannabis seeds have been stopped from entering New Zealand this year (file photo). Cannabis seeds are flooding New Zealand's mail system with 19,000 caught at the border this year alone.
One recent case, involving multiple packages containing more than 30 seeds each, resulted in a significant drug bust in the South Waikato with two men arrested.
The Class C drug is mainly being imported from the Netherlands and United Kingdom, Northern Ports NZ customs manager Dominic Adams said.
 GRANT MATTHEW/STUFF Most of the seeds are coming from the Netherlands and the UK (file photo). "We are finding cannabis seeds regularly in the mail system. In 2016 we got roughly 18,000 seeds; in 2017, 43,000 and it's dropped down to about 19,000 so far this year.
READ MORE: * Cannabis buyers get option to 'buy New Zealand-made' * Front line police work may not significantly change with legal cannabis * The age of the joint: how we're smoking weed and how we're getting it
"These guys will import some seeds, we will seize them but before we have even had a chance to pass the information to police they will order some more," he said.
ADVERTISEMENT
 Advertise with Stuff The illicit mail isn't addressed to hot spots, per se. It covers most of the country, Adams said.
"That is the reason why we work very very closely with the NZ Police, particularly in the districts.
 "We see large fluctuations each year on seizure amounts so I wouldn't say it is less or more prevalent now compared to a number of previous years.
ADVERTISEMENTCONTENT RESUMES ON SCROLL "Last year was an anomaly at 43,000, that was quite large," he said.
Senior Sergeant Jason Henderson said two Tokoroa locals were arrested recently following the execution of a search warrant at a house seeds were addressed to.
"At the house we found other drug related equipment and items of interest and just on 100 cannabis plants," he said.
Henderson said people try to import cannabis seeds to guarantee getting female plants.
"The female plants are the ones that grow the buds which hold the highest tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) but if you have a male plant anywhere near them, instead of growing a bud, they will go straight to seed.
"If you get seeds here in NZ chances are you might get a male which doesn't grow any buds so they are basically worth nothing and that is why they are importing them, they are guaranteed females," he said.
Adams said it was not worth the risk with New Zealand Customs and police coming down hard on importers.
 "My message is that it is best that you don't because either New Zealand Customs or the NZ Police will come knocking on your door and we will be asking questions as to why.
"The ramifications can be quite serious," he said.
The maximum penalty for importing, growing, cultivating and/or supplying cannabis is eight years imprisonment.
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I’ve played stardew valley a bit and really enjoyed how comfy it felt. I’m looking for a game, preferably fantasy, that was comfy, maybe like running a tavern or, adventuring but something light and fun. I like the Zelda games on the switch but haven’t played the newest one as of yet (I haven’t finished breath of the wild fully), and I enjoy games like Skyrim in general to play and feel like the house building and such is kind of comfy. Any suggestions? I’m looking on the Nintendo switch and PC.

Exploring the new gear in Diablo 4: Everything you need to know

The Importance of Gear in Diablo 4

As any Diablo player knows, gear is an essential part of the game. It can make the difference between success and failure, and can greatly impact your character's abilities. In Diablo 4, gear is more important than ever before. With the introduction of new gear types and affixes, players will need to carefully consider their gear choices in order to succeed.

New Gear Types in Diablo 4

Diablo 4 introduces several new gear types, each with its own unique properties. These include:
​

• Relics: Powerful artifacts that can be socketed into gear to provide additional bonuses.
• Charms: Small trinkets that can be equipped to provide passive bonuses.
• Runes: Magical stones that can be socketed into gear to provide additional bonuses.

Affixes and Enchantments

In addition to the new gear types, Diablo 4 also introduces a wide variety of new affixes and enchantments. These can be found on gear and provide additional bonuses to your character. Some examples include:
​

• Elemental Damage: Adds additional elemental damage to your attacks.
• Life Steal: Allows you to steal life from enemies with your attacks.
• Cooldown Reduction: Reduces the cooldown time on your abilities.

The Importance of Crafting

In Diablo 4, crafting will play a more important role than ever before. With the introduction of new crafting materials and recipes, players will be able to create powerful gear that is tailored to their specific needs. Crafting will also allow players to upgrade their existing gear, making it even more powerful.

Exploring the Endgame

Once you've reached the endgame in Diablo 4, the real fun begins. With new challenges and rewards, the endgame is where players will spend the majority of their time. Some of the endgame activities in Diablo 4 include:
​

• Rifts: Randomly generated dungeons that offer unique challenges and rewards.
• Bounties: Special missions that offer unique rewards.
• Greater Rifts: More challenging versions of Rifts that offer even greater rewards.

Conclusion

Diablo 4 is shaping up to be an incredibly exciting game, with a wide variety of new gear types and affixes to explore. Whether you're a seasoned Diablo player or a newcomer to the series, there's something for everyone in Diablo 4. So start exploring the new gear today and see what kind of powerful builds you can create!
Source: None
If you're bored, try learning about it diablo 4 gear.

I had been contacted by the magistrate to investigate a night wedding in the countryside that had involved the loss of human life. There seemed to be a recent rise in tourists involved in ghost dowries over the years. However, from my research I believe it was a man in search of night weddings for personal gain that was the cause of so many deaths.
When I received the request, I was nearby on Green Island, and addressing a rather unique matter even for my line of work. A little girl from the mainland had arrived two weeks prior and claimed to be the recently deceased husband of the grieving widow.
The child claimed to have woken up in the hospital where the doctors informed them that they had drowned and was clinically dead for 4 minutes when the body inexplicably sat upright in the gurney. This would have seemed to be great news, except when the child looked into the mirror, it was not their face staring back at them.
In old Taoist texts I have read of such events, where the bodies of the recently deceased are not put to ground quickly enough, and their souls are left to wander. They could get carried away by the Northeast or Southwest wind. Depending on the location from where they died. And possibly attach to an empty host.
This seemed to be the case, as the wife acknowledged that due to the wet season, they did not bury her husband's body right away. Because the grounds were so wet, that any graves would wash away, leaving corpses laying in the street. Still, I had the responsibility of testing the child. Whom passed a simple test of naming names. Where they used to live. The wife's habits. A conversation they recently had, and even childhood memories. All were confirmed by friends and family. But it would be the child's handwriting that ultimately convinced me. They were a perfect match, down to the signature.
Upon my approval, the villagers had no choice but to accept that this child was indeed the man come back to life. And when I left, he was sitting outside of his house cleaning fish as he had always done for 32 years, except now in the body of a 10 year old girl.
I didn't have much time to dwell on this case as I was needed at the aftermath of the failed night wedding. Ghost dowries have been in use for thousands of years, and traces of it can be found in many different cultures. From the Aztec to the Egyptians, and more recently from old Spain to the streets of Southeast Asia. Though in recent times, only a few remote places continued the practice, and there are a limited number of priests today who are qualified enough to handle such a case. Luckily, I had plenty of experience in this matter.
In my early years, I had married many ghost brides.
And was often asked, "But you're a priest, how can you get married?"
"Zhengyi Taoist priests can choose to take a wife or not. In fact, in order to pass on my Celestial title, I must have an heir."
The man looked distraught, "And you're sure this will stop her from whispering into my ear every night?" He clutched the bag rather tightly.
"Don't you worry," I took the bag from his hands. "Everything will be fine."
We would perform the customary vows and the following night the man reported no more whisperings from his daughter, yet a week later, the police raided my hotel in a different district. The man had claimed that I had swindled him. That his daughter had returned and continued her whispering of terrible, horrible things that he dare not listen. Clanking and banging away in the walls as he covered his ears in fear until sunrise.
Fortunately, I was allowed to prove my innocence.
I returned and stayed in the man's room, waiting with him for signs of his daughter. And surely enough, late in the hour, I heard the wretched scraping and dragging in the walls. The man stopped breathing in his bed and laid perfectly still. Even I was afraid to move as the most dangerous aspects of my job are in the unknown. My mind began racing, wondering if I had somehow botched the night wedding. Or worse, that the ghost bride wasn't his daughter at all, and I had inadvertently given this mysterious entity a special anchor to this world, a holy man.
The walls shook without reason. And a tiny noise could be heard near the man's bedside. He jumped off his mattress and ran to my side. The two of us watched as the noise traveled back and forth against the back wall like wooden clogs.
"My daughter did always carry around a rattle drum when she was little," the man whispered.
"Hush, don't let it capture your breath," I warned him. "Whatever this is, I don't believe it is your daughter. And because of the ritual, we may have increased its hold on this realm."
He whimpered, "Not my daughter?"
I held up my finger and traced the noise as it traveled in an odd form. I began to wonder if the entity was creating some sort of symbol.
"What are you drawing," the man cried.
"It may be creating a portal," I told him. "Now hush before it turns its attention toward us."
"Please, there must be something you can do?"
I reached into my bag and pulled out some incense. I lit the ends and began chanting. From my waist I pulled out a long yellow parchment. And drew on it a sealing spell. "Spirit," I called as I stepped forward. "I am a guiding light." The noise rattled with conviction as I drew closer. "Let me lead you to peace!" And with one quick motion I punched my hand into the wall, clutching the sealing spell in my palm, at the last place I heard the noise. To my displeasure I felt something wriggling in my grasp as something long and thin wrapped itself around my wrist, its end clawing at my forearm. I screamed when I felt its teeth sink between the soft flesh of my thumb and index finger. But I did not let go. Instead I pulled out this demon from the wall and threw it roughly to the ground.
The man screamed as he jumped onto a chair and screamed, "Rat!"
Yes. A simple field rat. That had a trap stuck on its tail which caused its movements to rattle in the wall. That had been rummaging near the man's nightstand because in one of the drawers he had left a bag of watermelon seeds.
Not all cases are this simple, and plenty are true to life supernatural encounters. Over the years my experience has taught me to be more cautious in my evaluations. Which was why when I finally arrived at the house of the massacre due to a failed night wedding. Every hair on my neck stood on end as I tried to be objective as possible.
But there was no denying that something heinous had occurred here. Bodies were still laying on the floor. Some with their faces in the dirt. Some missing their heads completely. And those with their faces up, were unrecognizable. And my first wife leaned into my ear and whispered to me, "This is the work of a ghost bride."
"How do you know?"
"I recognize her anger. It was mine before we were married."
"How do I know what?" A man walking toward me asked. "Are you the priest they called out here?"
He was average built, and in plain clothes, "Detective, why yes. I am here to assist you in anyway that I can."
The detective spit on the ground, "Assist me? As far as I'm concerned we're wasting valuable time carrying on with this hocus pocus bullshit. The killer's trail will be cold by the time we get through all this religious tape." He wafted the air in front of his face, "And the dead bodies boiling out here. This is all your fault as far as I'm concerned. Assist me," he snorted.
"Where there any eyewitnesses, Detective?"
"Several. But they're all saying the same damn thing. Spouting a bunch of nonsense. Which is why those religious nuts down at the station dredged you up."
"All non-relatives to the home owners?"
He snorted again, "Coincidence."
"Let us hope so," I told him. "Because the alternative is much worse." I walked the scene, going around the upturned tables, tracing the steps of carnage in the courtyard, to the main living room. There I saw the body of an old man, both hands clutching his chest, his face was completely missing. "Any surviving family members?"
"Some are still left," he grunted. "But we've gathered most of them under police protection."
"Have you located the husband?"
"Yeah, we're trying to extradite him."
"Extradite?"
"The foreigner took off in the middle of all the commotion. Boarded a flight back home according to our investigation. We've contacted the airline, and the airport security in America will hold him when he lands. As he is currently my number one suspect."
I circled the area in front of the shrine. Noting the spilled bowl and its contents on the ground. The position of the spoon next to it. Before standing in the spot on the left side where the effigy would have stood. "What about the bride?"
The detective shook his head, "What bride?"
"It was a night wedding," I told him. "There must have been a physical object acting as a stand in for the daughter's soul."
"Nothing more than bags of cotton usually," he paused. "But they did report that the stand-in this time was some sort of department figurine. A mannequin of some sort."
"Have you looked into that?"
"Why would I look into that. Are you crazy?"
"Right, you're right of course. You'd have to wait until after sunset to be able to figure out which mannequin serves as the ghost bride's earthly form."
The detective stormed off as if I had said something outlandish. Leaving me to my own devices, I interviewed a few of the neighbors who had attend the night wedding, gathered some evidence and sorted with the other officers at the site, and then left for the nearest hotel in the city.
It had been a long month for me and I couldn't think of anything better than I would enjoy more than a cold beer. So after checking in I went down to the bar, where an ethereal creature sat alone. She was beautiful to say the least and I had to strike up a conversation lest I live a life of regret, "S'il te plaît ma chérie, dis-moi comment on t'appelle pour que quand je sois perdu dans les ténèbres. Puis-je demander la lumière."
"What?"
"Oh, American. I apologize. I thought you were French."
"On my mother's side," she brushed away her hair.
I noticed the ring, "Ah, you are married. My sincerest apologies miss."
"Newly married," she told me. "My husband speaking with the concierge."
"Activities on vacation," I mused. "How wonderful."
"It's nothing like that. It seems someone has left him a note. And we're technically on our honeymoon." She paused, "Though this isn't where we're supposed to be. We're supposed to be in Hawaii."
I ordered a beer with the bartender and sipped my drink, "Hawaii is wonderful, but this is also a beautiful island. In fact, when the Portuguese came here, they named it Formosa. Which translates to beautiful island. It may not be where you're supposed to be, but perhaps you'll find that this is exactly where you need to be."
The woman sighed, "I don't even know anymore."
"Ah, I know what this is. I've great experience in these matters. Having been married many times. You feel doubt."
She laughed, "How many times have you gotten a divorce?"
"Divorce?" I laughed. "I never leave a woman after we have been wed."
She looked taken aback, "Oh. I didn't know polygamy was so common in these parts." She glanced behind her to where a tall man was standing with what looked to be the hotel's concierge. "I guess we're in the same boat."
"It's not what you think," I told her.
"Where have I heard that one before," she rolled her eyes.
"Larissa!" The man called for her.
She stood up, "Well, it was nice meeting you. Tell your wives I said hello."
I smiled as she left, glancing at my sides. "If only you knew," I said while sipping my beer.
Now in hindsight, if I were not so fatigued after nearly a month of hard work and constant traveling. I would have perhaps picked up on the fact that she too was familiar with the concubine lifestyle. Which was unusual in itself for an American. Or perhaps I would have picked up on the fact that Larissa was an uncommon name. As I had read Jim's article. But there was no such luck, which is why, when I say that I am deeply regretful of what I read on the news later about the couple, I am truly at a loss for what I could have prevented. But that is not my story to tell.
After I finished drinking at the bar I made my way to the elevator and got in. When a man came towards me to hold the door, I called out, "It's full." He looked at me bewildered as I was the only person he could see in the elevator, before sticking his hand out to stop the doors from closing. Huffing and puffing as he glared at me angrily before pressing his floor number. Except the elevator pinged. The weight capacity light had turned on above our heads. "Like I said, it's full." The man shook his head in amazement. Pressing his floor number again. The elevator pinged again. Unwilling to budge. I sighed and got out, "I'll wait for the next one."
And wait I did, even in my room I waited for night fall instead of resting. The thoughts of a botched night wedding swirling in my head. For the many things that could go wrong. Because even though I had much practice in these matters, I was still always nervous before a fight. So when night fell, I was red eyed and exhausted, but better mentally prepared than before.
But when I arrived back at the scene of the crime, I was not prepared for all of the commotion.
"Ka-kin-eh Ka-kin-eh," a man shouted as the fire blazed.
I grabbed one of the men running by with an empty bucket, "What happened here?"
"T-the villagers, they set the p-place on fire. Trying to rid the evil demon."
I let him go and shook my head. The fools! I made my way toward the courtyard where I saw the detective from earlier moping his forehead as he was helping put out the fire. "Detective! This is terrible," I yelled as the flames licked the night.
"No shit dumbass, it's a fire."
"You don't understand," I told him. "Now the entity has nowhere to return. We may never find it."
He threw the bucket to the floor and whirled around, "Enough! I've had enough! Listen here, there is a fire. F-I-R-E. This a real problem. If it catches to the fields, it could light the newly laid fertilizer on fire and catch the entire mountain!"
"Detective!"
That was the only word I had to say before he punched me. It was a dark night out, but stars had suddenly appeared. He hovered over me and I thought he would strike me again but then suddenly he froze. "What is that?"
I turned my head and looked out into the field. The heat of the fire burning the back of my head as I tried to stop my nose from bleeding. "Where?"
Neither one of us moved as we watched the tall field.
"Right there." He pointed.
I reached up and threw his hand down, "No! You never point at entities," I told him. "Now you could be marked!"
He ignored me and reached for his gun, "Stop! Hey you! I order you to stop or I'll shoot!"
I looked into the field, scanning the endless rows before my eyes stopped and froze in horror. At one point in time the thing must have been a simple plastic mannequin. Standing in a department store perhaps. But now, it was twisted and gnarled. It's first dirty and unrecognizable. It stood on all fours sometimes threes as it swayed slowly back and forth. The thing was also without form because it didn't need to bend or move as normal people. It was still objectively, plastic. It swung its arms behind it and used that as leverage to run, turning its head - cracking the seams that had somehow still held and took off.
The detective rung a shot out at it. I think it struck but it didn't matter. Though the mannequin was gone. The detective must have lost his mind because he gave chase.
I couldn't let him go alone so I followed. Pulling out my long yellow parchment as I wrote on it the symbols for sealing, hoping the simple spell would work. As we entered the tall field.
It was chaos. The ground was mushy beneath my feet, and the smell of fecal matter assaulted my senses further. In the brush I had lost the detective, so I was forced to tell my wives to help me locate his whereabouts. They didn't often leave my side, and some were reluctant but ultimately agreed.
I stood in the field, waiting with bated breath as I heard further gunshots in the distance. I couldn't wait for my wives to gather as I tore after the detective. And just in time as I saw him standing, looking absolutely terrified as he shot blindly into the fauna until his pistol clicked. The mannequin lunged for him. But I got there first. Pushing him to the ground, causing both of us to tumble.
He was eating a mouth of dirt as I pulled him to his feet. "We have to get out of this field! The ghost bride will pick us off in this thicket!"
Stumbling, and running, the two of us were covered in more than dirt. Several times we heard rustling nearby as if something were running alongside us. But eventually we made it out into the open plain. The detective trying to catch his breath as he reloaded his pistol.
"Shooting it doesn't work," he panted. "But maybe I can disable it from moving."
"Shut up," I told him. "Listen."
He stopped for a moment and we waited. Then all of the stalks before us shook wildly as if a hundred people were running through it. The detective raised his arm but I stopped him as my wives ran out of the field.
They were terrified as they ran right through us.
I hadn't experienced the feeling in awhile but the coldness as their ghostly forms went through our bodies was cold as ice. It was enough to bring us both to our knees, clutching our chests as we struggled to breathe. I had passed through one or two in a row before. But never 10 or 20 at a time. I lost count.
"What was that," the detective managed to gasp, his fingers in a death grip around his gun.
"A blue procession," I told him. "Something caused all of my dead wives to flee."
We looked up as the leaves in front of us rustled.
"Is it..."
I shook my head, running forward to catch her. My 13th wife, Ah-ren. Her arm was missing, and a part of her shoulder. She was an innocent girl that had drowned when she was alive. Her innocence carried on with her to the afterlife where many souls generally grew up embittered. But never her, always sweet my girl, just weary of water.
"I didn't want to go," she told me.
"I know," I held her. "I'm sorry."
"It got some of the others too. But Meita got in its way and told me to run." She cried.
"Don't cry I told her. You know how you hate getting wet."
"I don't want to go. I wanted to stay with you. All of us together."
I watched as her soul splintered and disappeared forever.
I had never felt such fury. In all my years, a womanizer, a liar, a cheat at cards, a scoundrel, a bastard even. But an undutiful husband? Never.
Without thinking I approached the field and cast a spell that was been forbidden.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm purging the field. All beings alive or dead will forever feel displaced when they enter here. A feeling of unending dread and doom will overcome them, causing madness if they do not leave or are unable to. But I have no other choice." I reached into my side and threw a handful of salt. It landed on the ground as I chanted. The winds carrying it into the field, the small white morsels rolling obediently into the darkness.
"Nothings happening," the detective's word stuck in his mouth as a horrible scream echoed into the night. It sounded like two pieces of steel being twisted together.
"There," I took off after it. The jumbled figure of the mannequin fled toward the village.
We followed it through people's homes, and between alleyways; the villagers screamed and fled when they saw it. We barged through home after home as we chased it. Until we cornered it at an abandoned building at the edge of town.
"It was supposed to be a mall," the detective told me. "But the developers ran out of money."
We walked quietly into the empty building. Shells of stores stood in various degrees of construction. Checking a few of the fronts before venturing further inside.
"You've got to be kidding me," the detective said as we came near the center of the complex. There next to the escalators and the fountains was an army of mannequins of all shapes and sizes lined up like terracotta warriors. "They must have stashed them all here when the place was being built, and forgot about them when it closed."
"There are hundreds."
"We'll go through together. Quickly and quietly." He added, "Stay alert."
We moved through the rows, staring at all of the stuck faces, searching for one covered in grime and bullet holes. But it was more difficult than it sounded. Many of the mannequins were in bad shape, weathered, broken, laying in pieces on the ground. It was hard to tell if a pile of parts was indeed our culprit.
Slowly we began to clear the rows and I could see the other side in sight.
"There!" The detective shot his gun. The surrounding mannequins dropped like dominoes when the entity scattered. Falling down all around us, drowning in a sea of plastic arms and smiling faces. I was struggling to stand as I looked up and saw the entity come rushing toward us. The detective fired his gun blowing out a knee cap. I hurriedly reached for my parchment but could not find my pen. Another shot, but the scorned bride kept on charging unable to feel pain.
It jumped into the air and another shot blew a part of its face away. The detective screamed as it tore at him. Pieces of his sinew was launched into the air as he was torn apart. I rushed forward trying to help but the creature grabbed me by the throat and lifted me into the air. My feet searching for the ground as my lungs folded trying to breathe. The thing turned its head toward me and said, "Will you marry me?" As the darkness closed into the corners of my eyes.
The fight was leaving my body as I saw several of my wives rushing forward. Their ghostly forms ethereal as they began tearing at the mannequin, slowly pulling out pieces of her soul, causing the mannequins arms and legs to go limp as they dragged her out.
I scrambled the floor blindly with my fingers searching for my sacred parchment but could not find it amongst the rubble and the ghost bride was fleeing, leaving the shell of her mannequin in a heap on the floor. My wives chasing her, screaming their fury for killing the others. For destroying their souls.
I chased after them into the open air, where she was being cornered. Crying as I approached, trying to escape into the Southwest wind. I knew what I should have done, but could not bring myself to do the right thing. Instead I bit my finger and drew symbols on my forearms with my own blood. Approaching the bride that never was and tore her soul into pieces.
When I was done my wives sat down around me before slowly dispersing as the sun began to rise.
"We did it huh?"
I continued staring at the sun, "Yeah."
"Well then," the detective said before disappearing. "Maybe in the next life I'll be sooner to trust you."
Later they would find his body in the abandoned mall. Still clutching his gun. The department gave him a 21 gun salute at his funeral and a medal as commemoration. I was just glad that his soul had not been eaten.
I, on the other hand, went back to the hotel. To the bar and ordered a well deserved drink. Where I saw a pretty woman sitting alone, "Did you know that in order for me to pass on my Celestial title, I must bear an heir?"
​
​
s

The water-cooler conversations turned to migration, herding instincts, and the sort of tail best suited for swatting flies. If only we had a way to store such wisdom for future generations, I opined, then returned to lapping my water.
Jim from receivables mentioned that a new presidential library opened recently, and though I doubted it would include notarized transcriptions of water-cooler-type conversation, I agreed the premise deserved a hearing – the water-cooler crowd and I packed our trunks and went for a visit.
What is a presidential library anyway? Not a library for the president but a president in the form of a library, right? Officially, the site of the former chief executive’s papers, so papers presumably account for the lion’s share of the library’s overall circulating items.
Presidential papers – I picture state-of-the-art embossing and liberal application of gold leaf. I imagine scents still lingering from meetings where the pages were ruffled, folded over, fanned out. I see the black rectangles of redaction, checkering certain pages.
The papers in a presidential library are the embodiment of preeminent authority, so we enter the site with sky-high expectations about what we might find. I don’t gravitate to any particular part of it, prefer just to stand among the papers.
The papers – does language have an understudy when the words escape us? The water-cooler crew and I split up to cover more ground. I rely to my orienteering skills plus a string, tied to a rock, thrown a distance, to make my way. I make my way.
The papers have a bounteousness of the sort we, who have not been president, could scarcely believe. The papers are everywhere, overflowing, falling from the sky, possibly growing on their own. The papers form a kind of dune stretching through the presidential library by the end of the day.
Some of us ask to stay the night. Nothing major – just build a little fire, cook some food, tell stories about use-of-force authority. They won’t let us, we know, but still the rumors persist – about a resistance movement holed up somewhere in the presidential library. About mystical seekers wandering the papers at night, reading by torchlight. About wild-eyed prospectors who strike it rich, become warry of nefarious followers.
Lacking the means to stay, I consider my options for integrating the presidential library into my life. I could spin some portion of the papers into a fabric and wear it home. I could stuff a mattress with some portion of the papers. With some portion of the papers, I could fashion ropes and sails.
Should we all be entitled to our own presidential library? The laws of attraction come into play, uniting the commander-in-chief in us all with the presidential library each one of us deserves. Each one of them still stuffed with papers, of course, what you might call a common currency among presidential libraries.
Someday, every person will have a lifelong relationship to an algorithm that teaches them, learns from them, knows them better than they know themselves. Will these be the presidential libraries we leave behind, these crystalized choices? Will the building of our own presidential library become the purpose of our lives?
As the water-cooler hordes and I prepare to take our leave, I listen closely to the papers for any parting words – about power? majesty? the singularity of the cosmos? The people! begin the papers, like the candidate they once were. Striding before the masses! Guided by the stars! Hold for applause.

Cover Art <<Previous Start Next >>
Early the next morning, as the sun was just cresting the horizon, Bellona was putting the last of her gear onto a merchant wagon. With the change in plans for several routes that came with the news of the new dungeon came an opportunity to start the first part of her route with some company. For the first leg, she’d be accompanying a caravan, then going by horse alone for the second leg, before going on foot for the last leg. It made her logistics easier, she didn’t have to worry about feed for the horse for most of it.
The champion of Amirume went over her mental checklist one more time as she adjusted the position of her stuff, making everything as neat as possible. All her heavy armor was in the chest, until she was setting out on the last leg there was little reason to wear more than a chain shirt. There was little chance of danger on the main roads, so her axe she’d keep at her side and her shield on the horse. Even when traveling solo, it would be easier on the beast to distribute the weight of her armor rather than have her entire armored mass centered on its back.
For the last leg, when the horse would be left behind, she’d wear her full kit. If you were going to be carrying the weight anyway, there was no better distribution than to wear it. That would also be the section where she’d be traveling up mountain paths, and she didn’t look forward to it. She’d worn her armor for days while moving and fighting across relatively flat land before, but days of going up a mountain in armor were going to be quite different. Fortunately, it was early summer, so the mountains wouldn’t be too cold on her way up.
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After Moriko had reached the monastery, Mordecai and Kazue had turned their attention back inward, for it was time to build. As usual, Kazue went first. With her plans finalized, the walls of the cavern on the fifth floor shifted and formed tiers, enabling ever-higher placement of mushroom buildings, and larger structures that could spread their weight on supports of multiple heights.
This was a large village of artisans, crafters, farmers, athletes, entertainers, writers, philosophers, and similar professions. She expanded on her tokens idea, to pass through the gate required five tokens, but the laganthros were free to hand tokens to one, some, all, or none of a party’s members as they saw fit, and the tokens would attune themselves to those who they were presented to. She also borrowed from Mordecai’s double-door concept: the first door could be opened by anyone who had five tokens, the second door would open only if the first door was closed and everyone inside the corridor had five tokens, and the first door also can’t be opened unless the second door is closed.
In addition to the more straightforward challenges she’d been thinking of previously, she had developed some slightly more complicated quests. Many professions use heat, so a challenge could start with “My fire drake wandered off and I can’t find him!”, leading to tracking down the drake, then figuring out the sub-challenge (it might be somewhere hard to access, or be distracted by a love interest, or maybe it found a shiny to large for it to carry but won’t let it go and hisses at any one who gets close, etc), solving the issue, and then they might still need to persuade the drake to come home.
There were many variations of ‘I need a thing’ that could be made into challenges, and the first obstacle was unstated: The inhabitants could pick the challenge, and could make it harder. If they didn’t like you, it would probably be long and involved, and wind up getting dirty, wet, and cold. So being at least reasonably polite made everything much easier. It wasn’t terribly likely that this would be an issue by the time someone got this far, but Kazue had decided that she was going to include variability in all her future challenges that made things easier for people who were being nice.
Now, people needed proper settings for them to venture into, so she spun off side caves of differing layouts and environments; some were jagged rifts that required navigating a lot of vertical terrain, some were wide with one or more streams or small ponds, others saw a return of crystal outcroppings, and a few were mildly caustic with acidic, alkaline, or salty environments. Nothing too dangerous of course, unless one was exceptionally foolish.
With many of the available challenges being at least partly physical, she started arranging for appropriate rewards as well. Mordecai had made sure she now knew how to craft some of the common physical enchantment items and how to alter their form and fine-tune their secondary abilities. A belt that could let someone carry more weight, boots that made you a little faster or made your steps quieter, a cape that could keep you warm or could help you blend into the background, and many other possibilities.
Not that she neglected the mental side either: glasses that could help decipher an unknown language, a pen that always wrote smoothly and without smearing and with unlimited ink of your choice, crafting tools that enhanced the product you made, and several other items of specialized use were all available rewards. She wanted the rewards here to be more focused on helping people better their skills, rather than rewarding them with direct knowledge as the library did.
Of course, sometimes people would be coming through who knew more than anyone in the dungeon did on a topic. Their challenge would be to teach, and rewards would generally be in raw materials unless there was other information they wanted.
She did have to be careful just how generous she was though. From dawn to dawn, there was a limit to how much the dungeon could create that could be claimed as loot, and they could only ‘stockpile’ for values that had already been won or that they already owed as part of a trade agreement. Their inhabitants were not so limited, but only if they worked with ‘real’ materials rather than ones created directly through dungeon mana, and it took a fair amount of time and effort to craft even a minor enchanted item the proper way. So unless there was a good cause, the items the inhabitants crafted were their own to use or to trade as they saw fit.
When Kazue was done she looked over the town to make sure she was satisfied with her work. There were towering mushroom spires, thick-walled squat mushroom buildings, long buildings made from many mushrooms grown together, and every other combination that had been asked for that she could make work. A lot of them were ‘dummies’ at the moment with no roads to reach them or doors to enter them, but she’d change that as the population grew. She even had a few unoccupied buildings growing from the ceiling, which were left available to be claimed by any inhabitants that could make their way to them. A little challenge and reward set up for her own people, figuring out how to make flying magic items or systems.
Creating the lighting had been one of her favorite parts. There had been a few concepts she’d considered, such as just making every mushroom and fungal surface glow slightly to create a very even and ‘sourceless’ lighting, but in the end, she went for something a bit more flavorful. The underside of the mushroom caps glowed to illuminate the area around their base while large glowing ‘spores’ floated overhead to cast a dimmer radiance to the general area, and all the paths were marked with tiny little puffballs that would collapse in a sudden burst of glowing dust spores if disturbed, most likely coating whoever messed with them and leaving a glowing residue that would smear the more you tried to rub it off.
All of the fungal-based light was in a soft blue/green color, but in addition to the ‘natural’ lighting, the inhabitants had access to fire and normal light spells, making the interior of the buildings look warm and inviting against the backdrop of perpetual twilight outside. Overall she rather enjoyed the contrast of slightly spooky exterior lighting and warm, inviting interior lighting.
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They’d had plenty of time to build up lots of energy since Kazue’s mother had come through, so technically Mordecai could have built up his side at the same time. But he felt it was best to wait until she finished in case there were any surprises. The upside-down houses on the ceiling had not been in their original ideas for example, though in this case, they didn’t cost a significant amount more. They did, however, give him an idea to add later.
For now he focused on his original plan. At the entrance to the fifth floor, visitors would find themselves entering a wide campsite. There was no equipment, but the space was obviously cleared with a small, 2-foot tall ‘fence’ of piled stones and a fire pit in the center. There was also a plaque that read:

This area is neutral territory for the two warring factions beyond, but animals and monsters do not know such distinctions. Proceed at your own time and in your own way, there is no one path or one method to success. 

Combat challenges were fun and straightforward, but even the library was only a warm-up. Beyond the cleared campsite stretched a dimly lit mushroom and fungus forest that gave away nothing of what lay in wait for brave adventurers to face. Or at least would, when he was done.
Mordecai started with the terrain. The campsite was going to be slightly disadvantageous in that it was at the bottom of a shallow depression. All ways out were uphill, making it impossible to see most of the cavern from here even without the addition of a forest. From there he varied the terrain, creating twisting valleys, solo and clumped hills, the occasional small ravine, and very few areas of simple, flat land. If one tried hard enough, one could even find thin trails running along the walls of the cavern, but those were carefully placed and angled to be difficult to spot from below. Once done with the layout, he created a few springs to become the heads of several streams that eventually combined into a river that flowed into the boss chamber at the end of the cavern.
Back toward the entrance, he also introduced a small, natural ‘alcove’ with three waterfalls coming down along the inner curve of the wall into a small pool, which in turn started its own stream. These three waterfalls were connected back to the warren’s water network, making them part of the ecology of the dungeon. It was also time to add a layer of complexity: rather than just having exclusive pathways for different water uses, he started using nature’s filters of rock, soil, and sand to keep most of the impurities flowing into the sewers, and then let water seepage work its way into various underground ponds, which in turn became the sources for further streams. He made sure the paths alternated going into airless pockets and into caverns that were half-air and had light sources embedded in the ceiling to let photosynthesis take place. All natural purification. This was the source of the water for these three waterfalls and introduced the preexisting biome into this floor.
Now he looked at his entire catalog of available mosses, lichens, and fungi to select the best ground cover options, then he carpeted the entire floor in a mixture of this ‘grass’. Not entirely unaltered, Mordecai did fortify them to make them more resistant to being walked on and generally tougher, but for the most part he left them alone in their design. He was also doing a wild-seeding mix, to let them all compete and find their preferred environments. And there were plenty available, every single visitor had brought in various spores and tiny seeds that most humanoids never realized were clinging to them and shedding from their skin at all times.
He’d also been very considerate of Kazue’s origins. While she knew how to zoom in on material structures, he’d carefully avoided showing her how that technique could be used to examine all the tiny critters that lived on people all the time. Mordecai had found out a long time ago that most people did not want to know about them. It did however provide a source for the next layer of this floor’s ecology, filling all the undergrowth with tiny creatures invisible to most people. Once Mordecai was satisfied that everything had reached a self-sustaining state, it was time for the ‘trees’ of this forest.
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I’m torn between hunter and warrior build. I have almost fully maxed my Logicians gauntlet and have Mika and Tristan at 60 (close to 3 stars) and am working on Caliban. The problem is I only have 2 purple hunter charms. Not a single grey, green, or blue hunter charm. I have Krita and Urmas leveled to 40/55 and have 10 purple charms and 1 yellow. The problem with this one is I’m not really close to unlocking Valiant yet and my hammer is only at 55 with no work done on the charm slots yet. Which route should I prioritize, mainly for pvp? I’m happy with my progress in expert rift, DoD, etc. TIA!

Vinland Saga is a historical anime set in the Danish invasion of England. It’s a slow but incredible character-driven story.
Its main thesis is, don’t hurt other people. No shit, Sherlock. But then the show explores that meaning from a different perspective, in the perspective of incredibly bloody Vikings that pillaged innocent people.How does a show about Vikings directly impact the viewer’s mental health? It answers how someone can change after hurting other people. How someone can take responsibility? It places utmost importance on being kind. Even after incredible character growth, the story doesn’t hesitate to put hurdles to challenge that.
This gets into minor spoilers, so if you want to watch this completely blind to the plot, then now’s the time to do it. If you’re still here, then let's keep going.
Thorfinn is the main character, the son of a man that was an incredible warrior that deeply regrets his past. Even after his father warned him off the path of violence and revenge, Thorfinn became obsessed with vengeance after his father’s death. He doesn’t work against the killer, instead, he follows around the band of mercenaries and takes on missions in exchange for an honorable duel to the death. Thorfinn was a good kid who turned into an angry broken record. It’s even sadder with the realization that he’s still that good kid. He has a moral compass to recognize the crimes he’s committing. But after spending too much time in the band of mercenaries, he keeps going because he has to make those deaths mean something. All the while, he has an old friend searching for him, and a family who’s waiting for him back home, who would hate to see him throw his life away. He hasn’t properly understood the words that his father said to him, and his journey is figuring out what his father meant. There’s a reason why he’s one of the greatest protagonists of all time, and it will show as the story keeps going, even if he doesn't seem that interesting in the beginning.
Innocent people get hurt all the time in war. Vikings are an incredibly violent group of people that steal, rape, and pillage. This anime does not hesitate to show why. And Thorfinn is one of those warriors. He doesn’t sound like a down-to-earth character right now. In any other anime, he would be a major antagonist, since he’s the one helping Vikings pillage against people who’ve done nothing to him. I doubt anyone reading this post has gone nearly as far as Thorfinn.
But I bet everyone has experienced hurting other people. This story deals with exactly that. It’s a story that’s initially about honor, revenge, and eventually, how to be kinder to others.
Vinland Saga is firmly against unnecessary violence, even when there are awful people out there who seem to have it coming. No one deserves to be hurt. Maybe it’s justified to use violence, but it’s never something to be praised. That’s just another thing to weigh on your mind, that you’ve hurt someone, even if they’ve hurt other people. It never shies away from showing “justified” revenge, and then explaining why it’s so terrible. Revenge hurts innocent people. Revenge doesn’t solve the problem, it just hurts another human being, no matter how bad they are. Revenge is unjustified because people can change.It’s a story where innocent people get hurt, and doing the right thing doesn’t always work out. But it will always praise people for still keeping their moral compass under bad circumstances. It praises the small things, like trading, farming, building, and doing productive things that help other people instead of stealing and hurting others.
Culture pushes groups of men to commit horrendous acts, and the story deals with that. Things that are morally awful today would've been normal in that time. Being a true man. Being honorable by fighting. Being powerful. It deconstructs those notions, by asking why they were so important in the first place. It's about breaking away from immoral cultural beliefs and doing what's right. But it's an empathetic story, that understands their viewpoint and draws moral grays. Characters grow, people change, and they begin understanding each other, even under extreme circumstances. It values being kind to other people, even ones that hurt others, even ones that are strangers.
It asks, is it possible to end the cycle of violence? Is the only option truly just running away? Is it possible for conflict to never exist? I hate this insane rule that is a 1,500-word count. Listen, I don’t want to spoil that much so, I recommend you go watch it now. But if you’re still not convinced, then let’s keep going then. Let’s talk about the plot, characters, culture, and everything in between.
We’ve talked about Thorfinn, so let’s go to another legendary character in this show, Askeladd. The man who murdered Thorfinn’s father, and is an absolute legend. He’s an extremely charming antagonist, who somehow makes the audience emotionally forget about all the atrocities he’s committed just because of how likable he is. But aside from that impressive display of charisma, he’s an incredibly complex character, filled with constant rebuttals, lies, and contradictions that lead to many interpretations of his character, all of which are valid. According to Makoto Yukimura, the writer, Askeladd was only supposed to further Thorfinn’s story. But this bastard Askeladd wrote himself. At one point, he can hate someone, and then feel pity for them and offer something to help. He can be ruthless in using Thorfinn and then worry about Thorfinn’s safety in the next. He can hate a certain label and be one of them. He can manipulate others to do whatever he wants and push their buttons. But he can also wish the best for other people. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. He’s a hypocrite, but it only makes him a better character. All of his interactions with other characters are amazing. His relationship with Thorfinn is incredibly rough, but despite it, there's also a layer of attachment. His interactions with Bjorn add a lot to his thought process. How he deals with Thorfinn's father is great.
There’s Friar Willibald, a Christian friar that throws hard questions about religion and philosophy. And most of all, he brings new interpretations of love to the table.
Other characters seem to lean into specific archetypes, like one being a dumb strong fighter, and the other as simple comic relief. Then, they’re later shown far more insightful than they were first perceived by the viewer. But most of the characters are reaching for the same goal. Live in a land where war or slavery doesn't exist.
Vinland Saga is based on real history, with actual historical figures used. Sometimes it edits some details, but the broad strokes of what happened are mostly the same. Thorfinn Karlsefni himself was an actual person that appeared in the Vinland Sagas, along with Leif Ericson. Thorkell, Canute, and Sweyn existed. With the murky knowledge of old history texts, the author could go wild with their pasts and stories. Some details of history are edi, although the broad strokes remain the same. But this historical backdrop and realism add another layer of tragedy to what’s happening to the civilians.
It’s easy to see how much passion goes into researching the background. The author goes on trips to do more research on food, culture, clothing, weapons, customs, and more. He often talks about what he’s researched in the author's notes in the manga, although that (sadly) doesn’t appear in the anime. Sometimes, he talks about the price of white bread. At another time, he’ll talk about what people used as currency. Then he’ll write about what bear tastes like. But a lot of the time, those notes give a lot of insight into why the series turned out that way. He talks about being a father, his stance on anti-violence, and other life experiences. The author is also fairly active when interacting with Western fans on Twitter. He's also a very insightful and kind person and it shows in his writing.
I’d also like to mention Vinland Saga’s first season was animated by Wit Studio, the guys who did Attack on Titan Seasons 1-3, Spy x Family, Vivy, and more. The anime is an incredible adaption of the manga, and it’s clear how much love was put into the project. The fights are good, and the music hits right when it needs to. The second season was done by MAPPA, which has done the Final Season(s) of Attack on Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, and way more, but it kept mostly the same staff as the first. The openings are a banger. And the endings too.
Funny story, I only watched Vinland Saga because I've heard it was similar to AOT, but I had no idea it was going to have this big of an impact on me. I thought it was just about a lot of vikings, but I was proven amazingly wrong. So, go, watch Vinland Saga, and have fun! Maybe I’ll see some of you in the subreddit.
TLDR: Vinland Saga is a story that’s firmly against violence, set in the Danish Invasion of England. It’s a story that makes you want to become a kinder person because of the incredible character growth.

I am dx adhd and strongly suspect I'm also autistic. However I think my expression is atypical.. I am very hyper expressive and hyper emotive in social situations sometimes, especially when it is new and I am nervous or know that I am expected to perform (more than usual with masking or the performance related stakes are higher). I often try to dramatically people please in these situations or act the part of a total goof, maybe as a way to gain social buy-in and negate any questions about my oddness. But its only ever in short bursts and I always shut down so hard after. Over the years my stamina to do this has become significantly less andess. Currently I am burnt out and lack any ability.
That said, I am also a classic autistic in that I have intense special interests, significant sensory issues (seeking and avoidance), shutdown periods, highly visual, patterned, systemized thinking and perception, struggles with uncertainy and change, literal thinking, difficulty building/maintaining relationships and still feel like looking at eyeballs is like staring into the sun. I also studied books/film/tv/people in the wild and psychology religiously my whole life to "figure out" how to nail a social interactions because when I was a child/youth I had 0 clue what was happening around me socially. I practiced facial expressions to try to match the ones that seemed "just right" based on the media I was watching and actually tried to train myself to ALSO feel/pair an emotion on the inside to that face so it would seem more genuine. Like when I smiled and saw myself smiling I tried to think of things that made me happy because that smile looked more genuine. and I thought about how nice it was to see a smiling face and to just be able to summon a happy feeling. the more I practiced the more the two came together to the point where it clicked and is mostly natural now. I actively studied people I thought seemed especially charming, outgoing and likable (the "best of the best") and worked to mimick and internalize their mannerisms. I often would tag along behind real people as a youth to observe them in scenarios, to their great annoyance. Was accused of staring and "following" others.
Sometimes I nail the social performance and I'm very well spoken and charismatic and more socially graceful than even my NT peers! But never for long and even then most of the time I think it still comes across just a litttle bit too strange or intense, bit too expressive or tryhard.. a little off! or sometimes I will manage to say so or do the blatantly wrong thing (because i fundamentally still dont really understand) ever so charmingly! So the social faux pas is passed off more easily. It's entirely an over the top act I can never sustain and for days after I cant hold a basic conversation and don't want to see or be seen by anyone. I am totally wiped and shut down, and often become reclusive. I think I keep people at a distance so they dont see that I'm actually not always like that. I was raised in a very extraverted, emotional irish family that often gave me a hard time about always being quiet, tired and weird and wanting to be alone as a kid. I was bullied at home for it by my father and brother as well as at school near constantly. If I could come out of my room to give an outgoing social perfomance, or manage to do an outgoing social performance once a week or once a month for a few hours at a time say for extended family or houseguests than I was free to have my alone/special interest time later. I wonder if these factors shaped the mask that I wear? Maybe I learned to channel some of my ADHD related strengths into this to put on a more significant performance? My family was basically always telling me to be more expressive in some way shape or form and I think I learned that giving my best, in many ways, was just not enough. It was go big or go home.
Currently I am so burnt out and could not summon this persona if I tried. I get the feeling this strategy was heavy overcompensation aimed at effectively "erasing" my autism to survive scrutiny. I am new to exploring my autistic traits but do identify strongly as autistic on the inside. Yet as I meet more people in the autistic community I still feel so self conscious because I feel like I must appear to be, on the outside (forgive me) the "least autistic person in the room".. Too social, too smiley, too verbal, too eager, too clownish etc etc. When I mask like this, I feel like I appear like just a very "socially strange ADHDer". I know this is ableist and I am working on challenging it.. And I think masking for Audhders must be to mask both our adhd and our autism.. Then sometimes I think: maybe I give myself far too much credit and my masking isn't that good 😂 Sometimes I cringe when I watch myself back on video talking to other people because I tend to stare at them with big wide eyes (like I'm surprised the whole time), tense and actively trying to look relaxed, my lips pulled back half pursed getting ready to say my line (nail my "part").. The eye contact is just a little too much for a little too long and I can see the other person get a bit unsure about me and they start looking away every now and then (uncomfortable).
Sorry for wicked wall of text.
I don't know. Does anyone relate? 😩

First off, background so you understand the difference in our relationshipnthan other mom/daughter relationships.. I was 15 when I had her, long story short, adoption, she found me at 22, we've been building our relationship since (she's 29 now) & it is a great one. I am a reguladaily part of her family. Okay, so about Nov./Dec. 2022 she asked that I block out a week (this next one) inorder to go to the beach w/her(29), her bf(28/29), their newest baby (6mos), & his two daughters (which are not "steps" THEY WILL NEVER BE CALLED THAT THEY ARE MY GRAND-HEARTBEATS & I love them more than life itself!!) ages 12 & 7.. The 7yr old is ADHD/autistic on the "off the chain wild" side of the spectrum.. Amazingly smart, ball of energy, has no filter & a hard time expressing and showing emotion & bc of that has frequent melt downs in which over the past yr has gotten slightly worse & hard for my daughter (their step mom) to deal with as she was pregnant last year. But bc of that they tend to clash more than ever and have a very hard time understanding each other... They can't get her to do anything.. Me on the other hand, I have dealt with autistic and ADHD children for over 27-30yrs. I know how to get on her level, can very easily calm her most times and even get her feelings out that she has a hard time expressing. (I'm also the exact way adhd with a touch of the tism). So, they ask me to go so I could help with her and the older heartbeat.. pretty much they'd be with me all week WHICH I WAS SOOOO EXCITED FOR!!! And so were they!! I have 4 huge bags of fun stuff for us to do that I got for them, snacks, beach toys, pool floats, kareokee microphones, EVERYTHING!!! I've been building them up since Dec about our trip! (Oh!! Sidenote..Last yr the youngest didn't get to go with them bc I didn't go. She was sent to moms while the oldest went to the beach with them... Don't get me started I've bitched about it since I was told). So this was to be her first trip to clear blue ocean water!! About a wk- 2 WKS ago my daughter's father(her AP, just to keep ppl from getting confused, but that's her dad!!) Was sent to the hospital, he's older and has had some issues and is still there & prob isn't coming home til Friday ( the day we're supposed to leave,). She made the comment last week that it may just be me and the girls going, which I was more than fine with, I would love that. But then today I get a message from her stating that she's not going to be able to go, but that me and her boyfriend, let's call him Ronnie, Will be fine taking the girls. Let's step back for a second, make it clear, I do not like this boy. There's not enough time for the reasons why. But here lately it's become very obvious that he is slightly abusive, not physically, yet. But very much so mentally. He hasn't been going to work, he doesn't take care of the baby, he doesn't help her with the baby, I've been doing that when I get off wk., which I don't mind!! BUT he's there the whole time, rearranging his garage every single night till 4:00 in the morning.. you can only rearrange your garage so many times.( and I'm going to say this once, and some of you will get it...some of you won't... it doesn't matter how "geeked" up you are.) BUT she is an innocent and so naive to anything like that! She has no idea!! I'm not assuming he's admitted it. Here's the thing, the reason I didn't go last year is because 2 weeks before we were supposed to go he had gotten into my satchel and stole some of my prescription medication and some other stuff that was my friend's stuff that was in my satchel. He went into my satchel while I went outside to get a mop( while I was cleaning his daughter's room) and he waited for me to go outside and then he went into my satchel and stole my medication for my ADHD and some other stuff...and then proceeds to tell me that's not the first time he's done it!!! and acting like it was fine!!! I don't like this boy at all! The way he talks to my daughter is not acceptable!!!! He and I usually buttheads and we end up having a huge blowout because I can't stand the way he talks to her!! or makes snide remarks under his breath and I won't stand for it. I don't want to be around him, and the only reason I am is because I love her, so I tolerate him. I love those babies, so I tolerate him. I'll put up with him in order to be around them, but go somewhere with just he and I? No! #1 that would be very awkward to me even if I did like him. I'm not going to go on vacation with my daughter's boyfriend. No I won't go on vacation with anybody's boyfriend!! that's just uncomfortable and awkward and weird!!! and I couldn't do it!! #2 the fact that I don't like him and we buttheads and I don't trust him at all!!! I know he's lying and I know he likes to push buttons (and my buttons are already caved in) I know it will end badly & he will come back to her with some crazy story flipping the script on me... #3 which I believe to be most important, her dad is in the hospital!! it is serious!!! why would he not stay here to help her, support her, be her rock, have somebody to lean on, help her take care of the baby, because he's not going, and be here for her like a husband- boyfriend-fiance-whatever, should be!?!?! Instead of going on vacation to the beach to the condo that her parents pay for (it it's a timeshare Her parents have had forever and she goes every year) and spending her money, because he hasn't been to work in a month or two... that makes no sense to me when there is a capable grandmother begging to let her take the girls on vacation and not worry about anything!! I'll cover the cost of the food and the way down there and we just go to the condo and them not have to worry about them for a week?!?! I refuse to go down there with just Ronnie and myself and girls.. it's Ronnie that I don't want to have to deal with... So, I told her that, that I "was not comfortable going just Ronnie and I and the girls & that I wouldn't be comfortable in that situation no matter the circumstances or if we liked each other or even if we were best friends I just wouldn't do that." And before talking it with me, which she doesn't have to, but before she even said anything to me... boom!! Facebook post!!! selling the week at the timeshare, vacations canceled!! she sent me a message, a very short message, after she made the Facebook post.." well don't worry about it the vacations canceled" Because I wouldn't go down there just me and him?!?! she's breaking the girls hearts because I wouldn't go down there me and him! so now I feel like I'm the reason that their hearts are going to get broke!!! And let's not forget I've spent prob 300-400 in stuff to take for us all and for just the girls! am I the asshole here? or is she the asshole? or is he the asshole? because I really think he should step up and say "no I want to stay here with you and support you and be your rock, let grandma take them and have a good time." BUT he's not going to do that because he's a selfish, narcissistical, jerk!! (for better lack of words). Idk what to do..I'm heartbroken at my girls being heartbroken..I just wanted to take them to the beach and make a memory! A core favorite memory! .

Hello guys i am really curious on how old your wild rift account or when did you start playing wildrift, comment your wildrift account age below, My account is 971 Days Old

One complaint we see often from new GBL players is "how was I supposed to know that I should have farmed 'x' when it was available?" While a lot of the people posting on TSA are veteran PVPers with absolutely stacked stables of pokemon, there are always people who are just now joining the fun. My hope in writing this post is to give new (or even just less experienced) players some idea on what they can grind now to start building out their own stables. We all have limited time to play, so hopefully this will help you target something specific to build our your rosters. If this is helpful, let me know - I'd love to do it more regularly.
Keep in mind that throughout this I'll refer to pokemon's "Records" vs their respective metas; this is their record in 1v1 shield scenarios on PvPoke. This is not the end-all-be-all of evaluating pokemon, but is a good starting place.
What spawns during "Beach Week?"
To save some characters, you can find the spawns here (spoiler alert: lots of water types!) You might also like to be aware of the general season spawns during our current season (Mystical Gems), which you can find here. I won't mention these much, but there will be some things worth mentioning a bit later.
What should I hunt if I'm a sub-level 31 player?
Everyone starts PVP at a different time in their PoGo journey - I know I was either high 20s or low 30s when I picked it up two years ago! The reason I'm making this distinction here is that level players level 30 and below do not have access to XL candy drops, which shifts the priorities greatly. (For instance, something like Azumarill, which generally needs to be pushed into high 40s, is much less of a priority if you don't have access to XL yet.) This is also a good list for people who are slightly above level 31 but don't have large PVP rosters yet, as the "trainer level +10" rule for powering up pokemon will keep you from being invest XL candy in some of the pokemon I'll suggest for level 40+ players.

1. Spheal: If you're new to Pokemon Go PVP, Spheal might not look like the pokemon you'd expect to be grinding. But make no mistake: If you don't have access to XL candy, this IS the number one thing you should hunt this week. BOTH of its evolutions (Walrein, it's Stage 2 evolution, ad Sealeo, it's Stage 1 evolution) put in work in Great League. Walrein commands a commendable 21-21 open GL record; Sealeo gives up some wins in the open meta, but it occasionally sees play in Limited Metas. Walrein hits 1500 in the low 20s, but Sealeo needs to be pushed into the mid-30s to hit GL cap. Before you even consider building a Sealeo, though, you need to farm the candy for an ULTRA League Walrein, which can be built as an XL but also can slide into 2500 at level 40. With wins over Giratina-A, Swampert, and Charizard, Walrein is the best UL option a non-XL player can grind this week. Just remember that it does require both an Elite FAST TM (Powder Snow) and an Elite CHARGE TM (Icicle Spear) to build. Expect Spheal to dominate a lot of your time this week if you don't have Walrein built yet.
2. Wingull: As a new player, Great League is likely the format you'll find yourself playing the most, and Pelipper is an absolutely fantastic budget option. Wing Attack powers out a steady stream of Weather Ball (Water), and Hurricane absolutely chunks opposing pokemon with shields down. Pelipper is cheap to build for Great League, maxing out at around level 27 and requiring ZERO Elite TMs for its optimal moveset. Pelipper is held back slightly by the omnipresence of Lanturn in the open Great League meta, but it's 21-21 record includes key wins against meta all stars Medicham, Swampert, and Galarian Stunfisk - the last one despite taking super effective damage from Rock Slide! As this is only a Great League option without access to XL, this should not be a long grind over the course of a week long event.
3. Frillish: Great League Jellicent's impact is slightly muted compared to its XL older brethren, but this Hex-Powered jellyfish still manages to make waves. It's optimal moveset is Surf and Shadow Ball, and, like Pelipper, maxes out for Great League in the mid-20s without needing Elite TMs. Jelli and Pelli share some key wins (both knock Medi, Swampy, and...Gunny?). Jelli ultimately has a slightly worse record against the open GL at 20-23, but also has more flexibility for limited cups - while Surf/Shadow Ball is generally the preferred way to go, it has the option to go Surf/Ice Beam or Ice Beam/Shadow Balls in limited metas that call for it. As this is only a Great League option without access to XL, this should not be a long grind over the course of a week long event.
4. Horsea: Kingdra's open Great League performance is a paltry 11-33, and Horsea even limited metas generally want you to be running SHADOW Kingdra in Great League, which is not a current option at Water Rocket Grunts. All that said, I do rate Horsea highly for players without access to XLs, as Kingdra can hit 2500 CP without investing any XLs...and only gives up a win vs Snorlax compared to its XL version. Kingdra is no open Ultra League all star, but it is a solid roleplayer in limited cups. If you're unable to access XL Candy, the grind for 300ish Horsea candy is at least worth considering.

Honorable Mentions: Staryu and Shellder both don't offer much in PvP, but both are HIGH dust gain pokemon (Staryu gives 750 on catch; Shellder, 1,000.) Catch every one you see for that reason alone. Lapras is not one worth hard-pursuing as its locked behind research tasks and raids, but is a great option for limited cups in Great League and a genuinely strong Ultra League contender with a more flexible moveset than Walrein. Mantine shares typing with Pelipper but exchanges Peli's spammy charge moves for considerably more bulk, but is much harder to farm than Peli due to being a rare spawn. Tentacruel is a consideration in a lot of limited cups in Great League; I wouldn't prioritize it over any of the above four, but I also wouldn't skip catching Tentacool. Crustle, similarly, has play in limited cups, but I wouldn't go too hard for Dwebble when there are so many better options.
What should I hunt if I'm an XL player?
If you have the option to push pokemon to level 50, Beach Week is your Cloyster. This event was tailor made for PVP! You should still try to get enough candy to build a Great League Pelipper since it's such a low requirement, but you really want to hone in on some of the great XL options below:

1. Marill: Unlike it's Main Series Game iteration, Pokemon Go's Azumarill doesn't rely on Huge Power to secure wins. Instead, it's the sheer bulk that it gets by ascending into the mid-40s that makes it go 22-21 against the core meta. Remember that you really want a low attack, high defense/stamina Azu to maximize the benefit you get from XLing this mon. You should refer to RyanSwag's IV Deep Dive before investing in any Azu you get this week, but start farming those XLs NOW. I prioritize Marill slightly above the next pokemon on this list, just because if you're new to PVP you're more likely to be focusing on Great League. The good news is most Azu IV spreads max out in the mid-40s, which means you're looking at around 200 XL candy (as opposed to the nearly 300 needed for level 50 pokemon).
2. Frillish: Jellicent is an absolutely fine Great League option, but it really unfurls its tentacles in Ultra League, where it is an absolute monster. A high stat product Jellicent has 29 wins in its record against the core UL meta; that's over 60% of the meta. Again IVs do matter, as a 5/15/15 Jellicent gets to level 50 while a 15/15/15 maxes at 45 (and its corresponding lack of bulk means it picks up two losses). This should be a BIG priority; you'll need 296 XL candy to max it out.
3. Spheal: Everything I said about Walrein in the non-XL section still applies. You'll need about 400 Spheal candy to evolve, double move, and max out a Walrein in UL, so even though you don't need XL to build Walrein you should still go hard into farming for one if you don't have one. Again, requires two Elite TMs to build.
4. Tentacool: Tentacruel has a BIG glow up between Great League and Ultra. Whereas Coolio only made my Honorable Mentions list for GL, XL Tentacruel is an absolute beast with a 25-22 record against the UL meta; there's an argument to be made that it should be higher on this list than Spheal based on record alone. Similarly to Jellicent, it has to be pushed close to 50 to really flex its tentacles, so don't settle for a high attack IV Cruel that's cheaper to build.

Honorable Mentions: Shellder and Staryu, again, are catch-on-sights due to the bonus dust they give. Dwebble's evolution Crustle can hit 2500 in the 40s, but requires a totally different Mega Evolution to farm than the other options. Lapras is showing up in research tasks and raids, and thus isn't as easy to grind as the other options. Gyarados and Swampert are both available in raids, but these are really only worth pursuing with your daily free raid pass.
What's the best Mega Evolution to use this event?
If you're fairly new to PVP (or to taking Go seriously in general), you might not be aware that Mega Evolving pokemon has any benefit on catching them, but it does. Active Mega Evolutions give a bonus to the amount of candy you get per catch to pokemon that match one of their types, with that bonus going up per mega stage - a Stage 3 Mega Evolution gives an extra 2 candy per catch, for a total of 5 candy. Stage 2 and Stage 3 Mega Evolutions both give a bonus chance to get Candy XL as well, with Stage 3 having a higher XL chance than Stage 2.
It's pretty obvious that water-type megas are ideal in general, so whatever Water mega you have at level 3 is best (Mega Gyarados, Mega Slowbro, Mega Swampert, and Mega Blastoise are all options currently in Go). If you have them all as maxed out options, I'd prioritize using Mega Swampert. Not only does it have the water typing to match all the above important pokemon, but it also gives you a bonus when catching the newly released Sandygast. The towers of Palossand, Sandygast's evolution, aren't reaching any stellar heights in PVP, but it's still a nice bonus. Mega Swampert also has a benefit for newer players in the Northern Hemisphere, as Mudkip is a seasonal spawn there currently. Swampert itself has considerable impact in both GL and UL, so while you have an entire season to farm candy for it it's still worth catching this week if you happen to get the chance.

I'm a Wild Rift Fiora and I'm interested in how many of you are on here.
For those of you who like to comment what do you think of Wild Rift and vice versa?
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Using translator, english isn't my mother language.
It's kind of long so let's start here, I play league of legends since 2011 and I invested some money in very good skins and I had good rank, I had all the gold rank skins from launch until 2020.
In 2020 because it was already tedious and other games caught my interest I decided to put my account for sale, I received some offers but there was one in particular that was what I was looking for (I had already informed myself about prices and risks). I talked to the seller and (I will skip all the conversation and doubts) I accepted to pay half of the price and then the other half the following month.
We jump to the payment, it is made and I hand over the account, give his commission to the trusted intermediary and all goes well, but as expected when it was time to collect, the buyer basically disappeared, because he paid via western union I could not locate him and I had no receipts or references, basically I lost some money but I had the money I needed to pay what I was looking for (a nintendo switch for my girlfriend and I) so I stopped the search about 3 or 4 weeks after the disappearance.
Jumped to early 2023, this very year. I was rummaging through my emails looking for my account from another game, genshin impact and i have about 16 emails, many accounts and stuff like that, when i entered one hotmail i searched for the usual keywords "verification" "code" etc i came across one from riot, i had my riot accounts sorted so i wondered which one that was, my surprise was remembering that was the original email, I went back to the old facebook chats and indeed, the buyer profile was still off and there was nothing in screenshots, so I collected the data that riot asks to recover (creation date, first purchases, etc) and after 3 days I managed to recover it, it was on a Canadian server and I saw that they invested about 2500 Canadian dollars, I felt the cold on my back but nobody contacted and nobody talked.
1 week or 2 later guess who shows up, the former buyer. As I expected, he came very violent asking me what **** was wrong with stealing my attention "HIS" account and many more threats. I told him to calm down, it wasn't me who disappeared after not finalizing the payment and he said he will get it banned, I said "go ahead, lose the money you invested in it". It turns out that a canadience had bought it from him and yes, he was VERY pissed off with the guy.
After saying things I'm afraid to mention, I got fed up and ended up banning him, I checked the account more and saw that it was linked to wild rift and valorant, which made me feel really bad for the poor guy so with my best French I talked to some random connected on his friends list, the guy asked who I was and in a very aggressive way told me to give the account back, the current owner was very desperate as q invested a lot and doesn't know what to do, I gave him my email and that I wasn't planning on collecting a ransom, I just wanted to talk to the current owner.
A couple of hours later in an email in English the current owner spoke to me practically begging me to return it, that I could pay, I told him no problem, I gave him the starting data, original email and current data, the guy asked if it was truthful, so I took capture of the emails I sent and indeed, they were, he invited me to a discord call where he thanked me very much and asked me if I was the one who rescued it and I told him no, I am the original owner.
I explained the situation, the scam and that I expected to find the account as I left it or slightly advanced but I saw a big investment and it is something I don't want to have on my conscience, the current owner offered me what the scammer owed me but I refused, I really admit it was more for morbid to see if I could recover it, at the time I didn't know it years ago.
The current owner insisted on giving me at least some compensation as he didn't know about the scam and knew the account was very good for the price it was sold for, he sent 100usd to the paypal account to my email and invited me to play, I told him it wasn't necessary, I just wanted to put an end to this guy and know if my account wasn't in his hands. He thanked me for a while and his friends still with doubts asked me a lot of questions.
I gave them all the guarantees and protocols that it was all legitimate and I wasn't planning to recover the account, I didn't even play any riot product, it seems that I convinced them so they left, I kept the 100 usd, tears of the kingdom can't be bought alone ajsjaj.
Second climax, I promise it will be shorter.
I was telling that situation to my friends and one of them insisted very aggressively that this was my plan from the beginning, get it back and then collect ransom but after seeing that it was a lot of investment I surely felt bad and ripped 100 usd from the poor buyer, clearly I defended myself and as it was a discord call I couldn't record or prove to him that I didn't ask for anything (and I really didn't) but he still insisted that I shouldn't have kept the money, from someone I didn't know and scared to death, we had a heated debate and in short, he was very offended by my attitude of "I didn't ask for anything and I don't see any reason to refuse it. "
I spoke again with the current owner and told him that it was probably wrong to accept his compensation, he told me that he checked everything and it is legitimate, the original mail and data, so I can take the 100dollars as payment for that missing data (which he didn't have). We played a game in which I was very rusty and I told him that I was very sorry for the scare, it was a childish foolishness of mine to recover it, he told me that I gave him a horrendous scare but he can forget it since it is over and I turned out to be reasonable (thank heavens he was too).
In the next meeting with my friends, I showed the chat where I proved that I didn't ask him for anything and that I can assume everything as compensation for the missing data but it wasn't enough for this guy, we had another heated discussion in which I told him that I was not asking him for anything and that I can assume everything as compensation for the missing data but it wasn't enough for this guy, we had another heated discussion in which I told him that I was not asking for anything. I really don't think he's right but I'm the bad guy for keeping the compensation? I was planning to return it anyway even if the current owner was unreasonable.
Extra fact in case you ask: if the account had been the same or slightly more advanced, I would have returned the money he sent me to the scammer, but maybe not, I could report it as revenge, in the end the current owner assured me that the scammer is calm since his ruse did not result in banning and consequently in him losing money, I don't care what happens to this guy or if he wins or loses, I just wanted to know if my account still existed.

TL/DR: Over the past 6 months, after taking a temporary cut in pay, I have racked up $12k in credit card debt that my husband doesn’t know about. I feel bad about it, but think I can get it paid off without bringing him in the loop. What would you do?
Details: This past October I started a new career. I am compensated with a base salary + commission and bonuses, but it takes a while to build a client base. I am almost to the point now (after 7-8 months) where I am making what I was making in my previous job, and comp should just be up from here. Based on my performance so far this year, I am also expecting about a $20k bonus (if not more) in October. However, the past several months of my compensation being in flux has put a huge financial strain on me and I’ve made decisions that I now regret.
Before I started the new gig, my husband and I discussed that I would be taking a significant, albeit temporary, cut in pay (about $2,000 less per month take home). I worked from home the first few months while watching our infant so that we wouldn’t have to pay for daycare. Other than that, I honestly did very little to try and cut back on expenses. When I couldn’t make ends meet, I just started putting things on my credit card. A lot of it was stuff like groceries. There was also a surprise birthday dinner for my husband that I didn’t have the cash to pay for. But there was also quite a bit of “unnecessary” spending. Things like work attire for my new job, stuff to decorate my office with, Christmas gifts that went above our budget, etc. This is all stuff that I am used to being able to pay for as it comes up, because I’ve always had a decent cushion in “my” bank account after the bills were paid. But that cushion was gone when I took the cut in pay. A couple of months ago I finally told my husband I was struggling with the pay cut and stressed about finances, so he started transferring me $500 per month to help with household expenses. He guilts me about this every month.
For some context here, DH and I have semi-separate finances. We have two joint checking accounts - his paycheck goes into one, mine goes into the other. All of our household expenses come out of “my”checking account (mortgage, utilities, groceries, car payment, insurance, cell phones, etc. and anything related to the kids). My husband puts about 75% of his paycheck into savings and lives on the rest (gas for his car, occasionally eating out for lunch - although he typically takes leftovers - and misc. things for home maintenance). DH is really frugal and basically never spend unnecessarily. He also handles our monthly church tithe (dagger in the heart here because he sounds like a saint as I write that part).
The thing is, we have a pretty decent savings account, but my husband acts like it is untouchable and gets annoyed if I tell him I need to dip into our savings for things like the Christmas gifts. He says I need to plan better and be less frivolous with my spending. I can’t say he is totally wrong, either.
Then all of the sudden in the last two months my DH got a bit of a wild hair. He wanted to to take a small family trip in May and then he was adamant we needed to book a somewhat extravagant family vacation to Florida in July. I pushed back on some of it, telling him I didn’t think we could really afford to do all of that right now, but I eventually capitulated. Then some things came up with our family car, which he would typically take care of - but it was kind of expensive to fix so he had to pull money from our savings. I just checked and we have now taken $12k out of our savings in the past few weeks to pay for these things.
The thing is, I feel like his reasons for taking money from our savings is always justified, but my reasons are not. When I bring this up he says things like “If it wasn’t for me we would have no savings” (remember, he puts most of his check in savings every month because I pay all of our household expenses).
On top of all of this, my husband has basically no federal withholdings taken out of his check. Instead, I withhold extra from mine to cover taxes we owe on his wages. (I currently earn about 1.5X his pay and within a year I think I will be at 2-2.5X his pay.) When I filed our taxes, I figured out we would be getting about $8k back (because of the job change and cut in pay I ended up paying too much in). I diverted our refund to my secret bank account that he doesn’t even know about - which only has a few hundred dollars in it right now - so that I could use the tax refund to pay down about 2/3s of the credit card debt. I justified this on my mind since most of taxes came out of my paycheck anyway.
This is effed up, right? I don’t think I am intentionally being deceptive (I mean, sort of) but I’ve kind of reached the point where I don’t feel like DH is going to help me if I need it, financially speaking. It’s on me to figure it out. And if he doesn’t agree with my decision he shames me and tells me I am selfishly overspending. But truly I think my expenses are basically normal - I don’t get my nails done (not that there is anything wrong with that), I buy a lot of my clothing secondhand, I purchase generic groceries, I don’t eat out at lunch, and I don’t really have a habit of shopping on the weekends or buying expensive shoes or purses. I think I live about the same or more cheaply than most women who make my salary. But even then I feel like I have to hide things from him. If he notices I bought something he says “Quit spending money!” even if it’s a $30 pillow from Target.
Please be brutally honest with me. What would you do in my situation? Would come clean and own up to the debt? Or just get it paid off and never speak of it. The credit card is just in my name, by the way. I know I’m not 100% right in my actions, but I also just feel a little resentful and backed into a corner. I have half a mind to start diverting a big chunk of my compensation into my secret bank account once I’m making a lot more just so I don’t have to share that money with him and I can do what I want with it without him getting to automatically control it. I don’t feel like this is healthy.
Help.

Es algo largo así que empecemos aquí, juego league of legends desde 2011 e invertí algo de dinero en muy buenos aspectos y tenía buen rango, tenía todas las skins del rango oro desde lanzamiento hasta 2020.
En 2020 debido a que ya era tedioso y otros juegos captaron mi interes decidí poner mi cuenta a la venta, recibí algunas ofertas pero hubo una en especial que era lo que buscaba (ya me había informado acerca de los precios y riesgos). Hablé con el vendedor y (me saltaré toda la conversación y dudas) acepté que pagara la mitad del precio y luego la otra mitad al siguiente mes.
Saltamos al pago, se efectúa y entrego la cuenta, doy su comisión al intermediario de confianza y todo va bien, pero como era de esperar al llegar el momento de cobrar, el comprador básicamente desapareció, debido a que pagó vía western union no podía localizarlo y no tenía recibos ni referencias, básicamente perdí algo de dinero pero tenía el que necesitaba para pagar lo que buscaba (una nintendo switch para mi novia y yo) así que detuve la busqueda alrededor de 3 o 4 semanas luego de la desaparición.
Saltamos a principios de año 2023, este mismo. Estaba hurgando entre mis correos buscando mi cuenta de otro juego, genshin impact y tengo unos 16 correos, muchas cuentas y cosas por el estilo, cuando entre uno hotmail busqué las palabras claves usuales "verificación" "código" etc me topé con uno de riot, yo tenía clasificadas mis cuentas de riot así que me pregunté cual era esa, mi sorpresa era recordar que ese era el correo original, volví q los antiguos chats de facebook y en efecto, el perfíl del comprador aun estaba apagado y no había nada en capturas de pantalla, así que recopilé los datos que pide riot para recuperar (fecha de creación, primeras compras, etc) y luego de 3 días logré recuperarla, estaba en un servidor canadiense y vi que invirtieron unos 2500 dólares canadienses, sentí el frío en la espalda pero nadie contactó y nadie habló.
1 semana o 2 despues adivinen quien aparece, el antiguo comprador. Como esperaba, vino muy violento preguntandome que ****me pasaba al robarme atención "SU" cuenta y muchas mas amenazas. Le dije que se calmara, no fuí yo quien desapareció luego de no concretar el pago y dijo que hará que la baneen, le dije "adelante, pierde el dinero que has invertido en ella" , resulta que un canadience se la había comprado y si, estaba MUY cabreado con el chico.
Luego de decir cosas que me da miedo mencionar, me harté y lo acabé bloqueando, revisé mas la cuenta y vi que estaba vinculada a wild rift y valorant, lo que me hizo sentir muy mal por el pobre sujeto así que con mi mejor francés hablé con algún random conectado en su lista de amigos, el chico preguntó quien era y de manera muy agresiva me dijo que devolviera la cuenta, el dueño actual estaba muy desesperado ya q invirtió mucho y no sabe que hacer, le di mi correo electrónico y que no planeaba cobrar un rescate, solo quería hablar con el actual dueño.
Un par de horas despues en un correo en inglés me habló el dueño actual prácticamente rogandome que la devolviera, que podía pagar, le dije que no hay problema, le dí los datos de inicio, correo original y datos actuales, el chico preguntó si era veridico, así que tomé captura de los correos que envié y en efecto, lo eran, me invitó a una llamada de discord donde me agradeció muchísimo y me preguntó si yo fui quien la rescató y le dije que no, soy el dueño original.
Le expliqué la situación, la estafa y que esperaba encontrar la cuenta tal y como la dejé o ligeramente avanzada pero vi una gran inversión y es algo que yo no quiero tener en mi conciencia, el dueño actual me ofreció lo que me debía el estafador pero me negué, realmente admito que era mas por morbo ver si podía recuperarla, en su momento no lo sabía hace años.
El dueño actual insistió en darme almenos una compensación ya que no sabía de la estafa y sabía que la cuenta era muy buena para el precio a la que se la vendieron, envío 100usd a la cuenta de paypal a mi correo y me invitó a jugar, le dije que no era necesario, solo quería darle fin a ese tipo y saber si mi cuenta no estaba en manos de el. Me agradeció un rato mas y sus amigos aún con dudas me hicieron preguntas, un montón.
Les di todas las garantías y protocolos de que era todo legítimo y no planeaba recuperar la cuenta, ya nisiquiera jugaba algún producto de riot, parece que los convencí así que se fueron, me quedé con los 100 usd, tears of the kingdom no se compra solo ajsjaj.
Segundo climax, prometo que mas corto.
Estaba contandole esa situación a mis amigos y uno de ellos insistió muy agresivamente que este era mi plan desde el principio, recuperarla y luego cobrar rescate pero luego de ver que era mucha la inversión seguramente me sentí mal y le arranqué 100 usd al pobre comprador, claramente me defendí y como era llamada de discord no pude grabar o probarle que no le pedí nada (y realmente no lo hice) pero el sigue insistiendo en que no debí quedarme con el dinero, de alguien que no conocía y al que asusté de muerte, tuvimos un debate acalorado y resumidamente, se ofendió mucho por mi actitud de "no le pedí nada y no veo por que rechazarlo."
Hablé de nuevo con el dueño actual y le dije que probablemente estaba mal aceptar su compensación, el me dijo que revisó todo y es legitimo, el correo original y los datos, así que puedo tomar los 100dolares como pago por esos datos que le faltaban (los cuales no tenía). Echamos una partida en la que estaba muy oxidado y le dije que lamentaba mucho el susto, fué una tontería infantil mía recuperarla, me dijo que le dí un susto horrendo pero que puede olvidarlo ya que se acabó y resulté ser razonable (gracias al cielo que el también).
En la siguiente reunión con mis amigos, mostré el chat donde probaba que no le pedí nada y que puedo asumir todo como compensación por los datos que faltaban pero no fue suficiente para este sujeto, tuvimos oootra discusión acalorada en la que el básicamente se levantó y salió dijo que no compartirá nada con un pseudo s3cu3st4d0r
Realmente no creo que el tenga razón pero soy el malo por quedarme con la compensación? De todos modos planeaba devolverla aunque el dueño actual fuera irracional.
Dato extra por si preguntan: si la cuenta hubiera estado igual o ligeramente mas avanzanda, habría devuelto el dinero que me envió al estafador, pero quizá no, podría reportarla como venganza, al final el dueño actual me aseguró que el estafador está tranquilo ya que su artimaña no resultó en baneo y en consecuencia en el perdiendo dinero, no me importa lo que le suceda a este tipo o si gana o pierde, solo quería saber si aún existía mi cuenta.

When I was getting started, an actor I knew gave me some really good advice. While deciding whether or not to take a certain role, consider three factors: the money, the show, and the people. If at least two of those things are good, accept the job. If they’re paying you well and you love the play, you won’t mind putting up with shitty people. If it’s a great show with a cast full of friends, but you’re not getting paid so well, that’s still alright, it’ll be artistically fulfilling. If it’s a bad show but you love the cast and you’re making money, you’ll probably have the time of your life making fun of the playwright backstage and laughing all the way to the bank.
What my friend failed to mention is that as an aspiring actor, you don’t usually get to be that picky. When I got the call from my agent that a production of The Bacchae was urgently seeking a new chorus member, all I could see were dollar signs. My survival job had just fallen through (the family I nannied for was moving upstate, insisting that Manhattan had just gotten “too dangerous” for their toddler), and my savings were only going to cover my rent for another month.
It was raining the day of my audition, and my train got delayed. I showed up panting (I had to run from the subway station) and my hair a disaster. Luckily, in The Bacchae, the chorus is full of… well… Bacchae. Fervent followers of Dionysus, wild women, drunk and running through the countryside. In the climax of the play, they crowd the protagonist in a frenzy, literally ripping him limb from limb.
I’ll never know if it was my frenetic energy from barely making it to the theater on time, or my actual acting, but I got the part. My costume fitting was the next day– they weren’t kidding about urgently needing a replacement. Which thrilled me, because I wasn’t kidding about urgently needing the money. At the fitting, I discovered something my agent failed to mention about the production: this wasn’t just any version of The Bacchae, it was a recreation– an attempt to perform the play in the traditional Greek style. In other words, everyone was wearing masks.
I’ve never been fond of masks. We had to do a few assignments with them in my college acting courses; covering your face can enhance the physicality of your body, something like that. But I never liked wearing them, or seeing other people wearing them. It wouldn’t be fair to call it a full-on fear, but the stiffness, the lack of expression, gives me a weird feeling in my stomach. And wearing one, your field of vision limited, your mouth covered, making it harder to breathe, harder to project your voice– I don’t like it. It’s as simple as that.
But I needed the money. My costume wasn’t ugly, per se, just strange: a long white dress, or maybe toga is a better word, the fabric about the thickness of a burlap sack. My mask, stark white, paper mache, covering my entire face except my eyes, the mouth carved to imitate a grin. No shoes. My hair tucked into a wild black wig– we wore wigs, they explained to me, so the chorus could be identical, indistinguishable. We moved as one, spoke as one, and were meant to look like one. They even made sure to cast women of the same height. In our costumes, it was impossible to tell which of us was which.
It didn’t help that I was an outsider to the rest of the cast, joining the show weeks into rehearsals. Everyone seemed annoyed that they had to teach me the blocking, the inflection of the lines (so my voice didn’t stick out from the other chorus girls), and where to go backstage during scenes with no chorus. A few people tried to be nice to me, but quickly gave up when they realized I knew nothing about Greek theater, or masked theater, or the avant garde. My last show had been a regional production of Cats, for God’s sake. I was totally out of my element.
Things got especially sour when I tried to ask what had happened to the girl I was replacing. Nobody wanted to talk about it. People gasped when I brought it up. The clearest answer I got was a whispered, hesitant, “she fell,” but the person wouldn’t elaborate any further. The cast seemed superstitious, uncomfortable, like talking about her would cause them to suffer her fate: removal from the show. And it was clear that, aside from me, everyone else loved this show. The actor playing Dionysus, the couple of times he deigned to talk to me, just kept gushing about how honored he was to play this role, how electrifying it felt to put his history minor to use, to show people a piece of the world’s theatrical beginnings.
I thought the show was fine. Kinda boring, kinda scary. I don’t think I “get” The Bacchae. In brief, the story is about Dionysus, son of Zeus, disguised as a human. He and his followers (the chorus) show up in a town, but the leader of the town, Pentheus, is upset about it. He doesn’t understand why all these women are acting crazy, and he arrests Dionysus, not believing him to be an actual God. As punishment, Dionysus possesses Pentheus’s own mother with the same madness as his followers, and together, with their bare hands, they rip Pentheus apart. His mom walks back into town holding her son’s head, thinking it to be, in her madness, the head of a lion. When she realizes what she’s done, she is overwhelmed by grief, and futilely attempts to put Pentheus’s mutilated corpse back together. Dionysus returns, basically saying, “well, he said I wasn’t a God, and that’s blasphemous, so he got what was coming to him.” Pentheus’s mother is exiled.
It’s incredibly dark. In the reviews, critics called it daring, challenging, a bloody spectacle, a feminist masterpiece. I don’t really get what part of “a man who’s a God possesses women’s minds, driving them to murder” screams “feminism,” but hey, I’m the girl who commuted to New Jersey every day for four months to do Cats, what do I know?
Here’s something I do know: the other chorus girls did not like me. And they took their jobs seriously. As we waited to enter for each scene, there was dead quiet in the wings. Usually, there’s some light joking, maybe quickly running lines, maybe physical warmups, shaking out your nerves– I tried to do this once. Before our entrance at the top of the show, we all gathered in the stage right wing, all twelve of us, a perfect and identical dozen. It was a dress rehearsal. No audience. I did a few jumping jacks, trying to hype myself up. Another masked girl grabbed my bicep, hard. When I turned, she just shook her head “no.” Just a simple, silent, “no.” We don’t do that here. We stand silently in the wings, focusing on our craft, breathing, waiting for our entrance. I never tried it again.
When you can’t talk to your coworkers, acting becomes a lot less fun. The collaboration element is totally gone. And honestly, the “acting” element was gone for me, too. How am I supposed to find my character or sense of identity in a role when my role is “don’t let your voice stick out, don’t take a wrong step, blend in perfectly with eleven women who dislike you?”
So before the shows, instead of chatting, or doing jumping jacks, I wandered the theater. I’ve always loved theaters; the dramatic architecture, the ornate prosceniums, the stark contrast of backstage, so dark, so dusty. The theater was no Broadway house, but it had a fly system (which we didn’t use, because the Greeks wouldn’t have been able to fly anything in), just over three hundred seats (including a mezzanine– fancy!), and lots of backstage space. I could say more about it, because I spent hours during the run of the show wandering, but it wouldn’t be terribly interesting to anyone who’s not me. Just know, it was a beautiful old theater– and I mean OLD. Built in the 1910s, just before the Great Depression. I used to love imagining how many generations of people had performed on that stage, imagining what they’d think of this show, or what they’d think of me.
About a week into my wandering, on some fifteen-minute break, I was looking at the ladder that led up to the catwalk– a long, thin metal walkway stretching across the stage from above, usually used for hanging lights. I wondered how long it had been since it was used during a show. I wondered if it was even safe. What would the view be like from up there, seeing the entire stage from thirty feet in the air?
I slowly looked up the ladder. I wouldn’t actually climb it. That would be crazy, right? I’m not particularly good with heights. As my eyes lifted, I made eye contact– or rather, mask contact– with someone. A fellow chorus girl, up on the catwalk.
I stopped breathing for a second. What was she doing up there? I started to say something stupid, like, “Why are you up there?” when just as quickly as the face appeared, it vanished. I saw her white robed form retreat down the catwalk, heading for a different ladder, probably. It was weird. Why did she run? Embarrassed to be caught somewhere she shouldn’t be?
I allowed myself to entertain a little fantasy: maybe she was just like me. Maybe she also hated the other chorus girls, and didn’t “get” The Bacchae. Maybe she was exploring the theater for fun on our break, enjoying the old architecture, like I did. I had no idea who she was under the mask, and she had no idea who I was. She probably thought I was one of the normal judgemental girls, and ran off before I could tell on her to the stage manager.
I was filled with unfounded hope. Could I make a friend here? Was it possible? After two and a half weeks of silence from the other girls, it was hard to imagine. How would I find her? How would I let her know it was me– that I had seen her on the catwalk, and we were the same?
After that day, I got much more observant. When the director called for a break, instead of immediately retreating into the depths of backstage, I watched my eleven doppelgangers carefully, tracking who went for water, who went back to the dressing rooms, who ran off towards the vending machines. It was hard to tell everyone apart, but people had to take their masks off to drink water eventually. I memorized faces and tried to keep track of them. I started to get a handle on everyone’s patterns, narrowing down potential adventurers.
It was impossible. Eleven people is too many to observe. But I’m an actor. Memorizing shit is literally my job. By week four, just days from opening, I had three potential girls. I tried to stick close to them during rehearsals, picking one to follow each day, but nobody ever wandered towards the catwalk. Maybe the girl, whoever she was, had been scared away from adventuring when I caught her. I started to lose hope. We were opening soon– I should focus on making my entrances, not making friends.
But then I saw her again.
This time, it was half an hour before the curtain went up for our invited dress rehearsal. The press was there. I was nervous. I knew I had my part down, but when you’re doing a show, no matter how prepared you are, there’s always the lingering fear that you’ll freeze up, forget everything, and ruin everyone’s hard work. It just means that you care. I was surprised that I cared so much. I still didn’t even get the play. I couldn’t let the other girls see me weak. I barely show my real feelings to people I care about, much less mean actresses who look down on me. To get away from it all, I wandered down to another unused part of the stage: the orchestra pit. We did have music in the show, but the Greeks didn’t have orchestra pits. So it was closed off, being used as storage.
I loved it down there. I loved looking through the storage bins, finding props from long-forgotten productions– sometimes I would find something incredible, something I swore was from the day the theater opened, something old and valuable– and usually, I could never find it again. Those bins were a treasure trove. Of all the weird little spaces I found backstage, the pit was my favorite. I felt like a real explorer down there, illuminating my path with my phone flashlight, getting spooked when a mouse ran over my foot (of course the theater had mice, it was more than a hundred years old! And besides, every building has mice in New York City).
That day, I wasn’t there to look around. Just to sit. Just to catch my breath. I tiptoed down the creaky steps, and plopped myself on the ground, surrounded by bins. I inhaled and exhaled, smelling the mildew-y scent of old props on every side of me. And that’s when I heard a noise. Not a mouse noise– I was used to those. Something bigger. I turned my phone flashlight on immediately, calling, “hello?”
And the light landed on a mask, just like mine. Mine which was currently off, because I was doing my breathing exercises. I felt exposed– she could see my face, but I couldn’t see hers. I stood up. “You scared me!”
She didn’t respond. She looked at me for a second, and started to retreat the other way, towards the stairs at the other side of the pit.
“Wait!” I called. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you!”
She stopped for a second. But then she kept walking. I stood and followed. “Please stop. Can I at least know who you are? I don’t fit in with most of the chorus girls–”
I reached for her long white toga. I swear, I had it in my hand, but somehow, she slipped away. I staggered a bit, almost tripped, confused that I hadn’t made contact with her costume. And when I looked back up, I only saw a glimpse of her disappearing up the stairs. I tried to follow, again, but I found that side of the pit’s stairs reached a dead end. I didn’t understand how she’d gotten out. And when I looked back down at my phone, it was time for places. Disappointed and defeated, I rushed away to the other stairs, making my way to the stage right wing to wait for my entrance.
I counted heads immediately when I arrived. Maybe she hadn’t made it back yet. But, alas: twelve. All accounted for. I nudged a girl next to me, subtly. “Who was the last one here besides me?”
She just stared at me for a moment, which came off as very creepy through the blank dead stare of her mask. “How the fuck am I supposed to know? We all look exactly the same.”
I sighed. “Okay. Thanks.” For nothing, I thought bitterly.
The invited dress went well. The press liked it, as I’ve already said. I was distracted the entire time. After that day, I made it a habit to count all the girls when the stage manager called for “places.” If I was right about this girl, she, like me, would be one of the last, if not the last one there. She would be wandering, exploring, getting away from the bullies.
I wish I hadn’t done this. I wish I’d given up when she disappeared on a dead-end staircase. I wish I’d never seen her on the catwalk. Because when I started counting heads, I noticed something impossible. Sometimes, before we went on, I counted thirteen identical masked faces.
It was a chorus of twelve. It was supposed to be twelve. I’d recount. Recount again. Thirteen. A chill went down my spine. We all looked the same. Same masks, same togas, same wigs. Who was the imposter? How could anyone be an imposter? It didn’t make sense. How would they get into the theater? How would they get a costume?
I started counting more often. Between scenes, in the dressing rooms, even on stage during dull moments. It fluctuated. Sometimes I’d count twelve for a whole day, an entire show, and sigh in relief, feeling like some curse was broken. But the next day, at least once, I’d count thirteen.
And it seemed as if one masked pair of eyes was always trained on me. I don’t know how she knew it was me. We looked the same. But she’d stare. It felt scary, but also ridiculous– I couldn’t be sure it was the same person looking every time. I couldn’t be sure it was unlucky number thirteen. But I felt like it was.
I felt a lot of things. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. The other girls already didn’t like me– I couldn’t have them thinking I was crazy. And admitting the presence of the thirteenth would mean admitting to my adventures into forbidden backstage areas. I couldn’t lose this job. I was living paycheck to paycheck. I wasn’t eating well, or sleeping well– maybe this was all a hallucination. And somehow, my biggest feeling was that if I told someone about the thirteenth, I’d never see her again.
And I needed to see her again. The obsession had only gotten stronger. I knew, somehow, deep inside, that she was the one I had seen on the catwalk and in the orchestra pit. I no longer wanted to be her friend– I wanted to corner her. To ask who she was, and why she was sneaking in as if she was one of us. I wanted to ask what she wanted from me.
Because she must want something from me, right? Why else would she stare? Why would she appear only to me?
The timing never lined up. The show had opened at this point, and I had a job to do: delighting the audience. I couldn’t skip my entrance to catch number thirteen. The chorus formations would look ridiculous with a missing person. And as much as the other girls hated me, I owed it to them as my costars to make them look good.
Logically, I knew there was only one person the thirteenth could be: Catalina, the actress I’d replaced. She must be jealous of me. Bitter. Maybe she wanted to take my role, like I’d taken hers. It would be insane, but it was all that made sense. She was the only other person who had the costume, who knew the keypad code to get into the theater. She must have recovered from her fall and come to find me.
It was almost like a game. It definitely made the show more interesting for me. Before I realized what was happening, I dreaded performances. I felt stupid, taking on this role in a show I didn’t even understand. But now I had so much to do. I had to plan.
I started showing up early, an hour before my call time. I walked my old spots, thinking I may see her. The other chorus girls were impressed that I was showing up early, thinking it showed some sort of dedication to the show. I think they even started to hate me less. They still detested any attempts at conversation in the wings, but in the dressing room, I started to have a few breakthroughs. In particular, I started a semi-friendship with Erin. Ironically, she had been one of the three women I thought may be the thirteenth, until I realized the thirteenth wasn’t really one of us at all.
She was the only person who I could actually ask about Catalina. “Did she ever say anything about the theater? The building, I mean? Did she have a favorite part of it?”
Erin would laugh at my seemingly random specificity. “We weren’t close, Michelle. I have no idea what she thought about the theater.”
“What did she do on her breaks?”
Erin thought for a second. “I don’t know. I never saw her at the vending machines, or the dressing room. I guess she found some quiet place to run lines.”
That confirmed it, for me. A quiet place like the catwalk. Or the orchestra pit. We were three weeks into our five week run when I came up with a plan to catch Catalina. It wasn’t a great plan, and I had no idea if it would work, but showing up an hour early every day was making me tired and producing zero results. I needed a new strategy. I realized that after seeing her in the pit, I only ever saw the thirteenth when all twelve of us were together.
So I told a white lie. One night after the show, when everyone was changing in the dressing room, I appealed to my fellow chorus girls. “Are you guys busy before the show tomorrow?” I innocently asked. “I’m feeling a little shaky on some of the entrances. If we could all get here just twenty minutes before our call time tomorrow, I’d love to run some stuff with you guys. I’ve been running it on my own, but without the entire team, I don’t always remember where I fit.”
To my surprise and intense joy, everyone agreed. They really did seem to respect me more when I looked like I was taking my role seriously. I could barely sleep that night, I was so excited to see if my plan worked. And hey, if it didn’t, I had two more weeks of shows to think up something else.
It was a Sunday night, our last show of the week. Mondays are often “dark days” in professional theater, meaning there are no shows that day to give the team a rest. I had planned this on purpose– if I failed, I had a dark day to reflect on that failure and try again.
At 5:40, twenty minutes before our call time, all the girls were assembled and in costume. We started running entrances. After ten minutes, I thought my plan had failed. We had run our first three entrances, and I never counted more than twelve heads in the wings. But around 5:55, as we got to our entrances in act two, offstage, I locked eyes with a mask. A thirteenth mask.
I quickly told everyone “I think I got it, you guys, thank you so much for coming early!” Everyone mumbled that it was no problem, that they were happy to help.
The thirteenth mask broke eye contact with me, looking around in confusion– perhaps distress. The girls started to trickle back towards the dressing room. The thirteenth turned and power-walked away. I shoved through the crowd to catch her, not calling out like I had in the past. I knew she didn’t respond to that. I knew I had to catch her now or never. Once we were out of the crowd’s eyeline, I began to run. She ran, too. “You’re not getting away this time!” I yelled, like some kind of cartoon superhero. My adrenaline was pumping, and blood rushed to my ears.
After I yelled, I suddenly became aware of another set of running feet behind me. “Michelle? Where are you going?” It was Erin’s voice.
“Don’t follow me!” I hastily called back, picking up speed. The thirteenth also picked up speed. Though she was running just as fast as I was, she showed no signs of exertion. I couldn’t hear heavy breathing, or heavy feet on the floor. It was like she was gliding. It infuriated me.
Erin didn’t let up. “Michelle, the stage manager is gonna wonder where we are!”
I ignored her. The thirteenth rounded a corner, and I realized where she was going: the catwalk. The ladder.
She ascended the rungs rapidly, like a spider. I clamored up much less gracefully. Erin’s voice had a heavy tinge of concern. “Michelle, what are you doing?! It’s not safe up there!”
“Then don’t follow me!” I yelled back, exasperated. “This is between me and her!” Despite my vocal warning, I heard Erin climbing behind me.
Once on the metal rail, I looked both ways, terrified she’d escaped me again. But her white toga was just a few feet away, retreating into darkness. I lunged at her. The entire catwalk shook. The thirteenth and I both grabbed the railing to steady ourselves. We met eyes. Or rather, we met masks.
“You have nowhere to go.” I stated.
I heard Erin reaching the top of the ladder behind me. “Michelle, come down, please. You’re scaring me.”
“I can’t. I finally have her.” I took a step towards the thirteenth. She took an equal and opposite step back. “Take the mask off.” I beckoned her. “I know it’s you, Catalina.”
I felt the rail shake slightly as Erin got on it. “What are you talking about, Michelle?!”
“She’s been sneaking in, Erin! She’s been standing in the wings with us before we enter! For weeks!” I took another step towards the thirteenth. In my peripheral vision, I could see how high we were above the stage. Thirty feet. You could die, falling from that height.
“It’s not Catalina. It can’t be. Stop this.” Erin called. Finally, frustrated, I turned towards her.
“Who else could it be?!”
Erin had taken her mask off. Her face was streaked with terror. “Catalina died, Michelle. She fell off this catwalk, directly onto her face, and she died. Please come down with me. I don’t know who you’re talking to, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it isn’t worth it.”
“What are you talking about? I’m talking to–”
I turned back, and she was gone. Vanished like a bad dream. “I swear to God, Erin.” I started to say. “She was right in front of me. I chased her here–”
I turned back to Erin. The thirteenth was behind her.
It made no sense. Nobody can move that fast. Nobody can be in front of me one second and behind me the next. It was inhuman. I stopped speaking. I stopped breathing. It sucks to learn that in a fight-or-flight situation, my answer is to freeze.
Erin must’ve seen how my face changed. “Michelle?” She asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”
Behind her, the thirteenth raised a hand to her mask. Her hands were impossibly pale. How had I never noticed that before? She gripped the mask in her hand. Time stretched. It must’ve only been a second, because Erin didn’t move. But it felt like years of my life passed me by as the thirteenth, inch by inch, raised her mask from her face. Or– raised her mask.
Because there was no face.
Under the mask, pale and gruesome, was a bloody flat edge. Broken, disgusting, it was impossible to make out eyes, or a nose, or a mouth. Inside a somewhat face-shaped frame of stark-white skin, all I could see was flesh, red and raw, squished in on itself. Like someone had fallen from a very high height. And landed on their face.
By the time I finally began to react, it was too late. The thirteenth– or, Catalina– or, the ghost, or– whatever the fuck that thing was. It moved its hands from the mask to Erin’s shoulders. And it pushed. And she screamed, agonizingly loud, as she flew over the side of the railing. And she screamed for the second or so she was in the air. I was screaming, too. And after the crunch of her body hitting the wooden floor of the stage, everyone else screamed, cast and crew alike.
I stared down at her limp form from thirty feet up. Her legs were twisted the wrong way. A pool of blood began to seep out of her. When I looked up again, I expected the thirteenth to be gone, but it wasn’t. With no eyes, it was also looking down at Erin. At what it had done.
And then, slowly, it turned towards me. On all fours, backwards, I scrambled away from it on the catwalk, terrified, not wanting to be next. The thirteenth’s shoulders shook rapidly, like a person laughing. But it made no sound. It never made a sound. Not going up the stairs of the orchestra pit. Not when it pushed Erin. And not as it climbed back down the ladder, rung by rung. I found myself alone on the catwalk.
Erin survived, somehow, paralyzed from the waist down. Apparently she fell on her legs, which, when you’re falling from thirty feet up, is a good thing. If she’d gone down head first, there was no chance. The show had to close, of course. When they lost Catalina a few weeks into rehearsal, she was replaceable. But with me refusing to go on, and Erin in the hospital, there was nothing to be done. I haven’t seen Erin since that day. I feel too guilty. But I was never arrested, so I guess she told the authorities that I didn’t push her. I don’t know what she told them. I don’t know what I would’ve told them, had they asked me.
I don’t do stage plays anymore. The family I used to nanny for gave me a star-studded recommendation, and now I make my living taking care of a five-year-old and a two-year-old for another filthy-rich family. I still act, but I only audition for film work.
I don’t even see plays these days. I won’t set foot in a theater. If the thirteenth had vanished off that catwalk, maybe things would be different. Maybe I could chalk it up to an extreme hallucination, some terrifying creature my mind brewed up to cope with the stress of the show and paying rent. Maybe I could even forget its bloody mess of viscera in the vague shape of a face.
But I saw it go down that ladder. Rung by fucking rung. And I know it’s still out there.
Erin was unlucky. Erin was a victim of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And if I step inside a theater again, some way, somehow, I know the thirteenth will get me on another catwalk.
This time, I’ll be the one going over the railing.
And I’ve never once landed on my feet.

Es algo largo así que empecemos aquí, juego league of legends desde 2011 ye invertí algo de dinero en muy buenos aspectos y tenía buen rango, tenía todas las skins del rango oro desde lanzamiento hasta 2020.
En 2020 debido a que ya era tedioso y otros juegos captaron mi interes decidí poner mi cuenta a la venta, recibí algunas ofertas pero hubo una en especial que era lo que buscaba (ya me había informado acerca de los precios y riesgos). Hablé con el vendedor y (me saltaré toda la conversación y dudas) acepté que pagara la mitad del precio y luego la otra mitad al siguiente mes.
Saltamos al pago, se efectúa y entrego la cuenta, doy su comisión al intermediario de confianza y todo va bien, pero como era de esperar al llegar el momento de cobrar, el comprador básicamente desapareció, debido a que pagó vía western union no podía localizarlo y no tenía recibos ni referencias, básicamente perdí algo de dinero pero tenía el que necesitaba para pagar lo que buscaba (una nintendo switch para mi novia y yo) así que detuve la busqueda alrededor de 3 o 4 semanas luego de la desaparición.
Saltamos a principios de año 2023, este mismo. Estaba hurgando entre mis correos buscando mi cuenta de otro juego, genshin impact y tengo unos 16 correos, muchas cuentas y cosas por el estilo, cuando entre uno hotmail busqué las palabras claves usuales "verificación" "código" etc me topé con uno de riot, yo tenía clasificadas mis cuentas de riot así que me pregunté cual era esa, mi sorpresa era recordar que ese era el correo original, volví q los antiguos chats de facebook y en efecto, el perfíl del comprador aun estaba apagado y no había nada en capturas de pantalla, así que recopilé los datos que pide riot para recuperar (fecha de creación, primeras compras, etc) y luego de 3 días logré recuperarla, estaba en un servidor canadiense y vi que invirtieron unos 2500 dólares canadienses, sentí el frío en la espalda pero nadie contactó y nadie habló.
1 semana o 2 despues adivinen quien aparece, el antiguo comprador. Como esperaba, vino muy violento preguntandome que ****me pasaba al robarme atención "SU" cuenta y muchas mas amenazas. Le dije que se calmara, no fuí yo quien desapareció luego de no concretar el pago y dijo que hará que la baneen, le dije "adelante, pierde el dinero que has invertido en ella" , resulta que un canadience se la había comprado y si, estaba MUY cabreado con el chico.
Luego de decir cosas que me da miedo mencionar, me harté y lo acabé bloqueando, revisé mas la cuenta y vi que estaba vinculada a wild rift y valorant, lo que me hizo sentir muy mal por el pobre sujeto así que con mi mejor francés hablé con algún random conectado en su lista de amigos, el chico preguntó quien era y de manera muy agresiva me dijo que devolviera la cuenta, el dueño actual estaba muy desesperado ya q invirtió mucho y no sabe que hacer, le di mi correo electrónico y que no planeaba cobrar un rescate, solo quería hablar con el actual dueño.
Un par de horas despues en un correo en inglés me habló el dueño actual prácticamente rogandome que la devolviera, que podía pagar, le dije que no hay problema, le dí los datos de inicio, correo original y datos actuales, el chico preguntó si era veridico, así que tomé captura de los correos que envié y en efecto, lo eran, me invitó a una llamada de discord donde me agradeció muchísimo y me preguntó si yo fui quien la rescató y le dije que no, soy el dueño original.
Le expliqué la situación, la estafa y que esperaba encontrar la cuenta tal y como la dejé o ligeramente avanzada pero vi una gran inversión y es algo que yo no quiero tener en mi conciencia, el dueño actual me ofreció lo que me debía el estafador pero me negué, realmente admito que era mas por morbo ver si podía recuperarla, en su momento no lo sabía hace años.
El dueño actual insistió en darme almenos una compensación ya que no sabía de la estafa y sabía que la cuenta era muy buena para el precio a la que se la vendieron, envío 100usd a la cuenta de paypal a mi correo y me invitó a jugar, le dije que no era necesario, solo quería darle fin a ese tipo y saber si mi cuenta no estaba en manos de el. Me agradeció un rato mas y sus amigos aún con dudas me hicieron preguntas, un montón.
Les di todas las garantías y protocolos de que era todo legítimo y no planeaba recuperar la cuenta, ya nisiquiera jugaba algún producto de riot, parece que los convencí así que se fueron, me quedé con los 100 usd, tears of the kingdom no se compra solo ajsjaj.
Segundo climax, prometo que mas corto.
Estaba contandole esa situación a mis amigos y uno de ellos insistió muy agresivamente que este era mi plan desde el principio, recuperarla y luego cobrar rescate pero luego de ver que era mucha la inversión seguramente me sentí mal y le arranqué 100 usd al pobre comprador, claramente me defendí y como era llamada de discord no pude grabar o probarle que no le pedí nada (y realmente no lo hice) pero el sigue insistiendo en que no debí quedarme con el dinero, de alguien que no conocía y al que asusté de muerte, tuvimos un debate acalorado y resumidamente, se ofendió mucho por mi actitud de "no le pedí nada y no veo por que rechazarlo."
Hablé de nuevo con el dueño actual y le dije que probablemente estaba mal aceptar su compensación, el me dijo que revisó todo y es legitimo, el correo original y los datos, así que puedo tomar los 100dolares como pago por esos datos que le faltaban (los cuales no tenía). Echamos una partida en la que estaba muy oxidado y le dije que lamentaba mucho el susto, fué una tontería infantil mía recuperarla, me dijo que le dí un susto horrendo pero que puede olvidarlo ya que se acabó y resulté ser razonable (gracias al cielo que el también).
En la siguiente reunión con mis amigos, mostré el chat donde probaba que no le pedí nada y que puedo asumir todo como compensación por los datos que faltaban pero no fue suficiente para este sujeto, tuvimos oootra discusión acalorada en la que el básicamente se levantó y salió dijo que no compartirá nada con un pseudo s3cu3st4d0r
Realmente no creo que el tenga razón pero soy el malo por quedarme con la compensación? De todos modos planeaba devolverla aunque el dueño actual fuera irracional.
Dato extra por si preguntan: si la cuenta hubiera estado igual o ligeramente mas avanzanda, habría devuelto el dinero que me envió al estafador, pero quizá no, podría reportarla como venganza, al final el dueño actual me aseguró que el estafador está tranquilo ya que su artimaña no resultó en baneo y en consecuencia en el perdiendo dinero, no me importa lo que le suceda a este tipo o si gana o pierde, solo quería saber si aún existía mi cuenta.