#i can sustain myself for years on games alone but for it to not be enough this quarter

[honeytonedhottie]

the happy pill⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

maintaining joy and building a lifestyle or habits that can sustain joy is important for mental health. even though circumstances may arise, im a firm believer that hope is possible and you can be happy.

POSITIVITY ;

if ur someone with a negative mindset in general and you wanna change it to a more positive mindset here are some ground rules..

let the little things slide - don't worry about the little things, dont stress over something that isn't worth stressing over. that includes letting the little things that you have done slide too. dont beat yourself up about something that you've done before. thinking "ugh why'd i do that" is useless. instead, flip that thought to "what can i do to improve if i find myself in that situation again".

surround urself with things that spark positivity - surround urself with things that u love and the things that make you smile. and enjoy the little things/tasks that u do. ROMANTICIZE.

giving out some -> reaping double - when u give out positivity. encouraging words, compliments, even a simple smile, you get that DOUBLED. it actually helps so much to be sweet to others and compliment others and its even sweeter for you bcuz it brings so much happiness.

TAKING YOUR POWER BACK ;

dont give anyone or anything the power to make you unhappy. ofc there are circumstances that are unique to everyone but in general dont let someone else's bitterness or negativity influence ur own happiness. protect your energy. bcuz you are responsible for making u happy.

REFLECT ;

have self identity audits every now and then to keep yourself in check. to make sure that ur following thru with ur goals or that ur balancing ur distractions properly. and also, reflect on whats constantly draining ur joy or what u are doing to drain ur joy. some things that can drain you include..

social media detox - although social media has lots of positives, we cannot ignore the negatives. social media provides a false sense of connection that we crave (cuz human beings are social creatures) so taking a break from social media every now and then a couple times a year rly improves ur mental health in the long run.

some things that can feed into ur joy can include..

gratitude - practicing gratitude without comparing your own achievements to someone else's. just being present and grateful for what u have.

laughter - learn to laugh and smile at things instead of getting worked up about it. laughing is such a mood booster.

literally ANYTHING, you know urself best and u know what makes you happy and what makes u smile so whatever it is that does that for you, DO that.

DO THINGS THAT ARE REFRESHING ;

doing things that are refreshing and replenish ur energy is a game changer for ur mental and emotional state and happiness. some refreshing things to do alone include..

watching the sunset/sunrise

meditation

journalling

practice self care

do something that u used to love doing

dance (it helps mentally too, taking u from rigid -> fluid)

DISTRACTIONS ;

when your constantly striving for perfection and you put all this pressure on urself, you'll end up growing into a bitter person, and thats not hot. so allow yourself to have distractions and have experiences and try new things bcuz thats what life is about.

however go about this with DISCERNMENT. allow yourself to have distractions that aren't harmful to you or others. an example of an unhealthy or harmful distraction is drinking. you can enjoy those things but enjoy them SAFELY. dont be too uptight with yourself and LET YOURSELF LIVE. but in that same breath protect yourself and get rid of whats taking away from ur happiness.

[sofiamerliah]

Why ???

Ch-1 You Must Go

The setting of the story -

Pandavas lost their Kingdom in the Game of Dice, Draupadi was humiliated and they were asked to go for Exile for 12 years and 1 year in Incognito.

When the battlefield echoed with the clash between Shri Krishna and King Shalva, a poignant scene unfolded. In the midst of chaos, Rukmini's silent prayers filled the air, her unwavering faith weaving a symphony of hope amidst the looming shadows of misfortune.

Krishna and Rukmini sat together in the serene chambers of Dwarka's royal palace; the soft glow of the oil lamps bathed the room in a warm, golden light. The gentle flicker of the flames cast dancing shadows upon the walls, painting intricate patterns that seemed to sway and undulate with the rhythm of their conversation.

Rukmini gently tended to the minor wounds that Krishna had sustained during the battle against King Shalva. While she was doing her work, Krishna couldn't resist a playful quip, "You know, my dear, I'm not actually feeling any pain. I could easily use my divine powers to heal myself."

Rukmini chuckled softly, "Oh, Krishna," she said with a fond shake of her head, "always ready to remind me of your Godliness. But for just this moment, let us set aside our original roles and normally behave as human beings, sharing in each other's pains and cares. It feels nice sometimes."

Krishna's playful demeanor softened as he looked into Rukmini's eyes, his gaze filled with love and appreciation. "You're right, my beloved," he replied, his voice tender with affection. "In your hands, even the simplest act becomes sacred. Thanks for reminding me of the beauty of our shared humanity."

With a warm smile, Rukmini leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Krishna's cheek, a silent expression of their deep connection and shared love. Her touch was tender, her hands moving with practiced care as she cleaned and dressed the injuries.

As she worked, Rukmini's gaze fell upon Krishna's right hand, where a faded scar marred the smooth skin of his palm. Her breath caught in her throat as she traced the outline of the scar with her fingertips, a flood of memories washing over her.

With a soft sigh, Rukmini looked up at Krishna, her eyes filled with understanding and love. She knew that this scar was a reminder of a different incident, one where Draupadi had torn a piece of her cloth to bind Krishna's wound when he had injured his hand.

"Hrishikesh," Rukmini began softly, her voice filled with reverence, "this scar... it reminds me of the day Panchali bound your wound with a piece of her cloth, and you vowed to retain the debt to her."

Krishna met his wife's gaze with a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his gratitude and admiration for Draupadi. "Indeed, Vaidarbhi," he replied, his voice tinged with reverence, "My Krishnaa holds a special place in my heart, and I will always be there to protect her, no matter the distance."

As Rukmini diligently tended to Krishna's wounds, her mind weighed heavy with unspoken thoughts and worries. Despite her efforts to maintain a calm demeanor, Krishna could sense her hesitance and sadness lingering beneath the surface.

Just as she reached for another jar of medicine, Krishna tenderly grasped her hand, his touch gentle yet firm. "Rukmini," he said softly, his eyes filled with warmth and concern, "I can sense that something troubles you. Please, share your burden with me. You know, you don't have to carry it alone."

Rukmini's heart swelled with emotion at Krishna's compassionate gesture, and she found herself unable to resist the urge to confide in him. With a heavy sigh, she met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Krishna," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "You are Omniscient, why do you ask me what troubles me when you already know?"

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of Krishna's lips as he reached out to wipe away a tear from Rukmini's cheek. "My dear," he replied tenderly, "your words speak volumes of your love and concern for me. Though I may possess Omniscience, your voice is the balm that soothes my soul, the anchor that grounds me in the realm of Humanity."

Rukmini smiled with tears as Krishna hugged her. The weight of the Pandavas' plight hung heavy in the air. Rukmini's heart ached for Draupadi, her friend and sister-in-law, who had suffered such indignity. With the wisdom of the divine coursing through him, Krishna listened intently to Rukmini's concerns.

"O Madhav," she began as she breaks from the embrace, her voice laced with sadness and anger, "my heart aches for the plight of the Pandavas. The deceitful acts of the Kauravas have brought nothing but suffering and injustice upon them."

Her eyes flashed with righteous anger as she continued, "To see our dear friends, who are noble and virtuous, subjected to such cruelty fills me with rage. It is unjust, it is unfair, and it is utterly heartbreaking."

"And Draupadi... What was her fault Keshav ?? Why she ??," Rukmini's voice laced with concern. "She is your most Beloved Friend and she is very much dear to me as well. So, please, take extra care of her. She is broken-hearted, and I fear she will not heed anyone's words except yours."

Krishna listened attentively, his own heart heavy with empathy for his Pandav Cousins and his Sakhi, Draupadi. He reached out to gently caress Rukmini's hand, offering her a silent gesture of comfort and support.

"Vaidarbhi," Krishna said softly, his voice filled with compassion, "I share in your sorrow and your anger. The actions of the Kauravas have indeed brought great suffering upon the Pandavas, and it pains me to see them endure such hardships."

He looked into Rukmini's eyes with unwavering resolve. "Don't worry, my love," he reassured her, "I will do everything in my power to ease the burdens of our dear Pandavas. I will go to their aid. Their trials have not gone unnoticed, and their cries for justice shall not be in vain."

"As for my Krishnaa, I will be her pillar of strength, Dearest," he assured her, his voice gentle yet resolute. "Her pain is no alien to me. She will find solace and strength in my presence, and together, we will navigate these troubled waters."

Rukmini's eyes softened with gratitude as she clasped Krishna's hand in hers. "Thank you, Madhusudan, you are the embodiment of compassion and strength," she whispered, her voice filled with love and appreciation. "With you by their side, I have no doubt that the Pandavas and Draupadi will find solace and hope."

Krishna pressed a kiss to Rukmini's forehead, his love for her shining brightly in his eyes. "You and I, both of us will guide our dear friends through the darkness and into the light, I promise," he vowed, his voice steady and sure.

With his assurance, Rukmini felt a glimmer of hope stirring within her heart. Though the road ahead was fraught with challenges, she found comfort in the knowledge that Krishna would be by their side, guiding them through the darkest of times.

Next Day, Krishna departed from Dwarka, his mind already weaving plans to comfort and support the Pandavas in their time of need. As Dwarkadhish and the Supreme Advisor and Guide to the Pandavas, he knew that his presence would bring solace and hope to their troubled souls.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

As Krishna prepared to depart from Dwarka, Rukmini stood at the palace balcony, her heart heavy with foreboding. She watched as her beloved husband mounted his chariot, his divine presence radiant even from a distance. A sense of impending devastation lingered in the air... Despite her knowledge of her own divine nature as an avatar of the Supreme Goddess, Rukmini couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of concern that enveloped her.

It wasn't any fear for Krishna that troubled her, for she knew his true essence as the Almighty, free from the bonds of mortal attachments. Instead, but it was the emotional toll of the impending trials that weighed heavily on her heart. Even though Krishna transcended earthly emotions, Rukmini couldn't help but worry about the toll that witnessing the suffering of their friends would take on him.

Just then, Satyabhama, Rukmini's co-wife but dear sister and confidante, approached her with a concerned expression etched upon her features. Sensing Rukmini's distress, she reached out a comforting hand.

"Didi, what weighs so heavily on your mind?" Satyabhama inquired softly, her eyes filled with worry. "I can sense a deep sorrow within you, as if the winds of fate whisper of impending doom. Are u alright??"

Rukmini turned to Satyabhama, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I am fine Bhama, just wondering that the ways of destiny are indeed strange," she began, her voice tinged with sadness. "Despite our best efforts, people still make choices that lead to destruction, blinded by their own desires and ego."

Satyabhama nodded in understanding, her expression grave. "Indeed, Didi, Karma is a relentless force," she murmured, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Those who sow seeds of injustice shall reap the whirlwind of their actions. Time is a merciless arbiter, and none can escape its judgment."

Rukmini took a moment to absorb Satyabhama's words, her heart heavy with the weight of truth. "We can only hope and pray that righteousness prevails in the end," she said, her voice filled with determination. "May Vaasudev guide us through these turbulent times, and may justice be served to those who deserve it."

"Don't worry, Didi," Satyabhama said, her voice filled with unwavering confidence. "Our Vaasudev, the protector of all, will weave his divine canvas of protection. He won't allow the shadows of despair to darken our path or cast their pall over those we hold dear." With a reassuring smile, she placed a gentle hand on Rukmini's trembling shoulder, her gaze alight with steadfast belief in the omnipotent love of their husband. "His divine embrace, painted with strokes of love and compassion, will shield us from harm and guide us through the darkest of nights."

"My dear Bhama," Rukmini began, her voice tinged with concern, "while I have faith in Krishna's divine protection, I cannot shake the worry that gnaws at my heart. I am troubled by the emotional toll these trials may take on him. Despite his divine nature, witnessing the suffering of our dear friends will surely affect him deeply." She sighed softly, "I pray that amidst the challenges ahead, Madhav finds the strength and solace he needs to endure," she added, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Satyabhama listened attentively to Rukmini's words, her expression thoughtful as she considered her sister's concerns. Placing a reassuring hand on Rukmini's arm, she spoke with quiet conviction. "Let us place our trust in Vaasudev's infinite wisdom and love," Satyabhama continued, her voice filled with conviction. "For in his divine hands, even the greatest trials can be transformed into opportunities for growth and redemption."

Rukmini nodded to Satyabhama's words, faintly smiling. With a shared understanding of the harsh realities of life, Rukmini and Satyabhama watched as Krishna's chariot disappeared into the horizon.

But the Dwarkeshwari felt a pang of sorrow deep within. Her heart clenched with a sense of helplessness. Though she understood the nature of Krishna's divine mission, her love for him compelled her to worry about his emotional well-being; and also about the specter of impending doom loomed large in her mind, casting a shadow over her optimism. She could only hope that her Krishna, in his infinite wisdom, would find solace and strength amidst the darkness, even as she prayed fervently that Krishna would return unscathed from the trials that lay ahead....

➽─────────────❥➽─────────────❥

The next chapter is very close to my heart. It will be updated soon. This is one of my favourite moments in Mahabharat. I know this chapter is long but Please enjoy 😁

[killingsboys]

You briefly mentioned Gale in your post about Lucy Gray being everywhere (🫶🏻) in District 12 and I wanted to ask what do you think of him as a character. It’s been 10 years since I’ve read the books so I don’t remember exactly how things happened in Mockingjay, but I think it’s unfair how people make everything about the love triangle and in order to praise Peeta for everything he does right, they tend to be really nasty about Gale when imo what happened ~ because ~ of him is really heartbreaking and just shows how war destroys people and who they love. Idk if I’m expressing myself well but I think people do miss the point sometimes. Peeta is a sweetheart but there’s no satisfaction to me in simplifying everything that happen by calling Gale a villain or a toxic guy. This sounds so boring sorry, I just loved your post about Lucy okay? Please yes talk more about books here next year! 💌

hi anon!! thank you for your kind words <3 and thank you for your question! i have THOUGHTS about gale so i am soooooo ready to talk about him <3

first and foremost i am & always have been a peeta girlie, he is truly one of the greatest fictional characters of all time and i'll die on that hill. but i actually do like gale, and i think he gets a very bad rap in fandom!

i think the first mistake people make is assuming that katniss/peeta/gale is a love triangle. it isn't. the struggle of katniss choosing between peeta & gale isn't actually about "omg who will she end up with" but about the life she will choose for herself. katniss herself explains it in mockingjay: it's about choosing the dandelion in the spring, or the fire. she chooses the dandelion in the spring because she needs hope to sustain her. she has enough of her own fire; adding someone else's to it will only hurt her in the end. that doesn't mean she doesn't love gale in one way or another. that doesn't even mean that she condemns the fire. she is the fire! it only means that ending up with gale would hurt the both of them.

gale is not a bad character, and he is not a bad person. it's insane to me that people think he's a bad person, actually! he's a traumatized child whose father was killed in the mines and who has spent the formative years of his life risking his life to break the law so he can provide for his family. exactly like katniss. and he's angry about it. but not angry in an abstract way — he's angry in a directed way, in a way that makes him want to change the world they live in. and he should! that's the whole point of the series!

gale spends most of the first games with katniss's family, because he loves her and he loves them and he doesn't want them to be alone. he promises he won't let katniss's family go hungry if she dies. he takes extra tesserae so his younger siblings won't have to, even though they could use the extra food and fuel, even though it puts him at additional risk. he leads 800 scared, hungry, injured people out of district 12 when they're firebombed. when the bombs are coming for district 13, he goes upstairs to check katniss's family's compartment to make sure they're all safe and to grab the things most precious to katniss and her family, risking his own life in the process. he throws himself over katniss when the bombs drop in district 8 and follows her up to the warehouse roof without pause. he lies for her, a thousand times. he follows her across the capitol on the pipe dream of killing president snow. he doesn't hate katniss for her relationship with peeta — he even says that he knows he can't hate her, that it wasn't fair to her. he isn't even angry. he's heartbroken. he's an 18 year old boy in love with his best friend and the world keeps on ending and she was sent to die and the only way she could survive was by pretending to love another boy sent to die — and she might not be pretending, and she doesn't know, and gale is caught in all the middle of it. he's allowed to be upset! everything is so messed up!

katniss doesn't agree with everything gale does. neither do i! i don't think killing the people in the nut in district 2 was the right choice, and i'm glad katniss interrupted. but it's very easy to see where gale is coming from. one of the core themes of the series can be summed up with haymitch's repeated question: "who is the enemy?" over the course of the trilogy, we see katniss begin to comprehend the true answer. she starts off challenging the idea that the richer people in her district are the enemy, even though they don't have to take the tesserae. then she thinks it's the kids from the richer districts who are her enemy, but when she kills marvel from district 1, it feels wrong to her because he's also just a child being manipulated and used as a pawn by a violent government. like her. like rue. the enemy is not any of the people dying in the capitol's mines and orchards and factories and arenas. and in mockingjay, katniss realizes that the normal civilians in the capitol aren't even her enemy. the enemy is the ring of people at the very, very top.

where gale goes wrong is he doesn't reach the end conclusion of that. gale hasn't gone into the arena, he hasn't had to face down other scared children to atone for the "sins" of people they never met. he doesn't get it. he never will, not in the way katniss does. so he doesn't find the same answer as her.

and as for the bombs that kill prim. you see. i really, truly do not believe that they are thirteen's bombs. snow's points in his discussion with katniss don't hold up enough for me personally, and knowing as much as we do about snow, i truly do think he was trying to mess with her one more time. but within the confines of the story, it doesn't matter who dropped those bombs. in real life, yes, it would absolutely matter. but within the books, it doesn't. what matters is that it could have been either of them. capitol or thirteen. snow or coin. the point was they were trading one evil for another, and katniss couldn't be made in a pawn in that, too.

but it doesn't matter, because she will always associate that with gale. it isn't fair, because even if it was thirteen's bomb, there was no way he would agree to that, no way he would help to kill children to prove a point. but she cannot help but associate that with gale. and gale, oh gale. he will always think it, too. he will always wonder if he was the man that killed prim. the little girl he helped to take care of for years, almost another sibling to him. the little girl he helped katniss bring lady the goat home to. the little girl he would not have let starve if katniss died. the little girl he led to safety when the firebombs dropped on district twelve. he will live the rest of his life having to think he is responsible for her death.

i find gale to be one of the most tragic characters in the series. he tries so hard, to take care of the people he loves, to help others, to build something worth having. and he loses very nearly everything for it. and then the fandom vilifies him and treats him like he's worse than president snow. when really, gale was just another exploited, traumatized child whose life was warped and twisted and burned by the capitol.

[b3anieperson]

THE LETTER - An Epilouge To Fourth Wing - Part 1 - Part 2 -

Xaden's letter is marked with the same seal I've seen the last three years, a blue wax seal with a rising dragon. I snap open the seal, the wax breaking quietly.

Dear Sloane,

I'm so, so sorry.

My gaze shifts at the letter, sorry for what? As I pay attention to the paper, trying not to read ahead, the corner of one letter is torn, and slight dark spots appear on the paper, like tear stains.

Liam stands with Malek now.

My heart shatters, as I read.

We were attacked by Gryphons, while we were going to save a nearby village. Deigh died, and we didn't have long to say goodbye to Liam before we had to fight.

I am so sorry, I tried, he died in mine and Violet's arms- and so did Soleil.

I'm used to reading through the lines at this point, its how most words to me look. 'Gryphons" always the same, and yet, never Gryphons, Venin.

I barely remember Soleil, her mother was a lieutenant under my mother, and I maybe met her once- but Liam? He was my brother. I'm alone now, no family, no mom, no dad, no Liam. I continue reading, letting the tears spill onto the page as I try not to cry out in pain.

I wish I could be there, I'm leaving in a few days, as soon as we get back to Basgiath, we're currently waiting for Violet to wake up, we're in-

The next word is scribbled out, but I know what he means, they're in Aretia. Letting the one who lived- Violet Sorrengail- heal, while Liam is in a burn pit with his dragon and Soleil.

I don't bother reading the rest, I throw the letter across my bed and reach for Garrick's. This one is sealed with brown wax- I rip it open, and worry my lip as more tears fall.

Sloane,

I wish I could bring you good news.

Please don't be stupid- do something stupid more importantly.

I'll give you what the report says, but I'm sure you've already read Xaden's letter, or Eya's.

Included in his letter is his own personal report, since there were no scribes to write it down.

Name: Garrick Tavis

Rank: Third Year Flame Section Leader, Fourth Wing

Location: Athbyne

Beyond Wards Y/N: Yes.

Commanding Officer: Xaden Riorson

Riders Available: Masen Sandborne, Eya Wrenwrought, Garrick Tavis, Liam Mairi, Soleil Telery, Violet Sorrengail, Ciaran Jun, Bodhi Durran, Imogen Cardulo

Incident Report: June 24, 633 AU

War Games 633 of Basgiath War College, Gaurd and Riot of Wing Leader Xaden Riorson was set down at a lake 20 minutes out from Athbyne.

10 minutes in on break a scream was heard from the west side of the lake, in the woods.

A drift of Six Gryphons attacked and killed Deighabron-- a Red Daggertail belonging to Liam Mairi, saving Violet Sorrengail from impailment.

Soleil and Fuilinstrogh were killed in action by suprise attack.

In action Violet Sorrengail and Xaden Riorson took out two Gryphons as well as rider. Violet was then impailed by poisoned dagger (awaiting condition updates), and incapacitated.

Eya Wrenwrought, Imogen Cardulo and Bodhi Durran fought the remaining Gryphons.

-INCIDENT END-

Injuries sustained:

Bodhi Durran: Broken Arm

Garrick Tavis: Six Inch Cut from Temple to Jaw

Eya Wrenwrought: Twisted Ankle

Violet Sorrengail: Stab Wound (poison)

Imogen Cardulo: Several Fleshed and Treated Knife wounds, (unpoisoned)

Liam Mairi: Deceased

Soleil Telery: Deceased

I don't bother to read the rest of the report. I throw it aside and ravage through Imogen and Eya's letters. All I can focus on is that he died for Violet, saved her, and she still got stabbed and might even die. He died for fucking nothing.

My heart pounds in my chest as I rip at a rouge peice of paper. Tears fall down my cheeks, and make my face sticky with grief.

When Helena walks in, towel wrapped around her head, I'm hugging myself, looking at my sheets instead of the letters. Her face drops as she sits next to me, an arm wrapped lightly around my shoulder as she consoles quietly.

When I think I've cried out every tear that ever existed in my body. Helena asks me quietly what's wrong.

"H-he's gone." I whimper out, my voice breaking.

"Fuck," I hear from another voice, I glance up. Fynn stands there, against my bedpost, and his hair is slicked back with sweat.

"Liam?" Helena asks quietly and Fynn and I nod simultaneously. A gasp escapes her mouth, and she tries not to shudder.

When Emek sticks his head in through door, Fynn shakes his head and waves him out.

"I'm sorry Sloane." Fynn whispers, but I begin to shut everything out. I haven't done this since- since I watched my mother be incinerated- six years ago.

My heart sits in the bottom of my stomach, and I find myself shrugging away from Helena's touch.

When others walk in, they sit adjacent to the bed, or like Fynn; against the bedpost. They ask hushed questions, "What happened?", "Why is Sloane-", "Is she going-". I shut my eyes closed, and just scream.

The room quiets. Nobody speaks. No one moves, then quietly, a hand clasps my shoulder. "Out." He whispers.

I don't bother looking up at Emek, I know it's him. Everyone leaves, and I slowly collapse in on myself, crying again. He shushes quietly, sitting down on the bed, running his fingers through my hair.

His hand passes in front of my vision, and he picks up a letter. He let's out a breath, and sets it down, no doubt reading what Eya had wrote.

Dear Sloane,

We lost Liam two days ago.

We were in a battle at Resson.

I'm not going to sugarcoat this, you know that's not my thing, and I guarantee you've read Xaden's letter.

You know what took him out. We tried, I couldn't get there in time. I will see you at Parapet. I'll be on the other side, you know I will be.

Just remember: You are strong, and you will get through this, you have gotten through worse, and you are amazing.

I love you kid.

-Eya Wrenwrought, Second Wing, Claw Section, Second Squad.

Emek takes my hand, "I know." I shake my head, a few tears falling.

"Y-you don't." I whisper, even though I know his older sister fell at Gauntlet two years ago. "Emma fell at Gauntlet. Liam was eviscerated with his fucking dragon. Emma died before her threshing. Liam did not."

Emek sighs. "Mom died by Venin, if you remember." He says, not trying to guilt-trip me, but informing. Pain flares in the back of my mind, a headache swirling. I fall back on Emek, and he catches me.

"I- I'm sorry." I let out.

"Don't be, we all know the sacrifices that are made."

And I know, from all experiences, it never gets better.

"I'm sorry Sloane."

[tr1ck5]

I wasn't originally planning on writing any of this, but I've read so many wonderful and deeply personal love letters to FFVIII yesterday and today for its 25th anniversary that it kind of emboldened me to.

So here goes I guess, kind of somewhat personal wall of text about a ps1 game, under the cut. You've been warned!

Okay now I don't know how to start. You could say FFVIII came into my life at exactly the right time for me to absolutely imprint on it.

I remember playing the demo that came with a bunch of other demos from a PSN magazine; I'd watched my older brother play a lot of FFVII beforehand and I was enchanted by the story, graphics and characters, the music... Even though my understanding of english at the time was next to mediocre so I relied on him to explain things a lot. I was like... 8 or 9 then so loads of subjects and plot points went completely over my head but it didn't matter at all to me (It was kind of hilarious when I replayed it when I was older because I was like damn, this story is a LOT more convoluted/complicated than I remember wth??? Lmao)

When VIII finally released and I watched my brother play, I was now 10/11 and sometimes he'd play without me so I missed a lot of stuff (and it's rather funny because I remember looking at Squall and co at first and being like whoa, those adults have got their shit together so much and wow how I ever could have looked at Squall and thought that, is beyond me lmao) but when he was done with it I picked it up and played. And sucked. But it stayed with me through my teenage years, never too far.

I was then a lot more fluent in english and literature in general so it pretty much was my first real big 'story-driven' video game ever. I was so damn invested, and, perhaps most of all, I saw myself in Squall so damn much it was borderline uncanny. I think it's so comforting (or alarming depending on how you want to look at it lol) that that seems to be a common thing for all of us die-hard fans. We just 'get it', don't we?

I've... always been a 'weird' kid. That kid other kids somehow know to stay away from, because something is 'off' with them, before they learn how to mock and bully. And I was aware of my 'otherness' as much as them, for as long as I can remember. I never quite fit in, anywhere, no matter how hard I tried. I didn't have a lot of friends, and the very few I had I always kept at arms' length for self-preservation reasons. If I was never vulnerable, if they knew nothing deeper than surface-level stuff about me, they could never hurt me. And this way I wouldn't get too attached, so when they left it wouldn't hurt. Sound familiar?

Admittedly it's safe to assume that I had a somewhat fucked-up childhood (I mean, I wasn't an orphan forced to become a child soldier but still lol) as these behaviours didn't appear out of nowhere, and Squall's inner monologues and way of seeing things just resonated so much with me, I couldn't believe this guy was the hero that saved the day, despite all his traumas and anxiety... But he was. And he did. And his friends cared for him despite it all. And someone fell in love with him, flaws and all. He realized his way of life wasn't sustainable forever and he just... changed. But he wasn't unlovable. He wasn't irredeemable and broken! I cried so much the first time I finished that game. It felt so fucking unfair, I felt like I'd grown and matured right alongside Squall but as the credits rolled and the tv screen turned black I was met with my reflection; alone, in my room. Where were my friends, where was my Rinoa?

I'm an extremely private person. Sharing deep things about myself is extremely difficult for me and twice now I've come this close to erasing the entirety of this post. I have to fight the voice in my head that says this is irrelevant and useless at best, and dangerous to divulge so much personal info at worst. When I talk about personal things, even to the people closest to me, I start shaking and I feel nauseous and cold all over. Even today, right now as I'm typing this!

But this damn video game made me realize that I would never be happy and at peace if I was never honest and vulnerable. Because when you spend years around someone and know loads of things about them yet they know nothing about you, you're not a friend; you're an acquaintance. To love is to give a person the means to hurt you and trust them not to. You have to take that leap.

I eventually found my friends, and my Rinoa; I'm still having trouble trusting and opening up and relying on others but it got better, and it gets better still, and it's in part because of that. one. video game. Ain't that just crazy? A little bit, probably. Who cares.

I feel this wall of text of a post is all over the place and probably TMI but wow good on you for reading through it all lmao. Am I gonna regret posting this in the morning? Most definitely. But hopefully I have the strenght to leave it up. Hopefully someone somewhere can also relate, like I've related so much to all of your posts on this game! Ultimately I am deeply grateful and amazed by this community, we're the black sheeps, the underdogs, the often ill-understood... But I wouldn't want it any other way.

Happy 25th anniversary, Final Fantasy VIII.

[archiveikemen]

Koihana Bakumeiroku Prologue: Chapter 2

I do not own any of the Koihana Bakumeiroku content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD and Animate. Please support them by playing the game and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Saito: My name is Saito Hajime. I’m the captain of the Drawn-Sword Regiment in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

Saito: Come with me. — We’re headed for the Meiji Government.

(... The Meiji Government?)

…

I did as I was told and followed Saito to…

Rin: Um, this place is…

Saito: This is the Ministry of Home Affairs, also the headquarters of the Meiji Government.

Rin: Eh?

Saito: Didn’t I tell you we were headed for the Government?

(He did… . This is where the important people in the country gather, right?)

I felt small because I never imagined myself ever stepping foot into such a place.

Saito spoke, ignoring me.

Saito: I have work to do here. Wait here for me, I’ll come pick you up and guide you once I’m done.

Rin: A-Alright. Can I stay in this area?

Saito: Right…

Just as Saito was about to respond,

???: Is that Saito?

???: Oh…?

Saito: ! Katsu, and… Kido.

The two men named Katsu and Kido approached Saito.

(Are they perhaps acquaintances?)

Katsu: Who’s this girl?

Saito: She… she lost her way. I’ll guide her once I’m done with my work here.

Rin: My name is Rin.

I introduced myself and bowed my head, Katsu smiled.

Katsu: I see. I can tell from your appearance that you came to Tokyo from the countryside.

Katsu seemed convinced and was about to leave with a wave of his hand, but Kido stayed behind and stared at me.

Katsu: Kido?

Kido: Nothing. It’s just that it seems she has something going on.

Rin: !

His penetrating gaze made my heart jump.

Katsu: She looks like an optimistic and ordinary girl to me. Did you fall in love with her at first sight?

Kido: Of course not. But sometimes, valuable information lies in unexpected places.

Kido approached me and looked at me searchingly.

Kido: Please don't tell them about this. I’m only asking this out of curiosity.

Kido: … Can you tell me just one thing? What’s your purpose in coming to Tokyo?

I hesitated for a moment to tell him the truth.

(This isn't something I’d usually tell someone I just met, but…)

Contrary to his calm aura, Kido’s gaze was as sharp as an arrow.

Rin: …!

(... Something tells me that it won’t be easy to fool them.)

I made up my mind, took a deep breath, and spoke.

Rin: I’m here in search of my missing memories.

…

Afterwards, I was brought to a government office because they got interested in my situation, and I told them everything.

(Looks like this just became a pretty serious matter…)

Kido smiled when he noticed me sighing.

Kido: I’m Kido Takayoshi. I work for the Meiji Government. Katsu Kaishu over there works together with me.

Kido: The man who brought you here is Saito Hajime, he works for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department in the Drawn-Sword Regiment.

Kido: So… is it true that you’ve lost all your memories?

I hesitated before slowly nodding in response.

Rin: … Yes. I lost my memories a few years ago.

Rin: I don’t know the exact reason, but apparently I lost my memories after sustaining a serious injury…

Rin: An old lady found me unconscious, so she took me home and raised me as her granddaughter.

She raised me like I was her real family member.

Rin: I’d be lying if I said that my memory loss had never once bothered me, but we led a happy life together.

Rin: But… my grandmother passed away not long ago due to illness.

Saito: …

Rin: And when I was feeling lost…

Rin: I found letters that my grandmother exchanged with a doctor in Tokyo.

(That doctor treated me back when I was first discovered…)

My grandmother ran a small restaurant in the outskirts of the village, and this person was the only person she had personal contact with.

After she passed on, I spent more time alone and became curious about myself.

I thought that if I could meet this person, I might be able to find some leads to my missing memories. Therefore, I came to Tokyo.

When I finished speaking, I felt a concerned gaze on me.

Saito: … So you lost your way while looking for this person?

Katsu: Ahh… sorry for saying that you looked optimistic.

Rin: It's alright.

Rin: Moreover, I might find out something if I meet that person, so I wouldn't say my situation is pessimistic.

Saito: … In that case, we should take you to that person’s address at once.

Saito’s stiff facial expression had softened slightly.

Kido: By the way, what’s the name of the person you’re looking for?

The moment Kido asked that question—

Rin: !?

???: — Oh, hey there.

???: I’m the person you’re looking for, right?

[beamygaming]

Enjoying Games Again - a blog!

Hi! My name's Amy, but you can also call me Beamy! I'm just a gal with a passion for the art of video games, and this is a blog dedicated to my thoughts on the ones I play.

I've been creating games since I first learned how to use Game Maker when I was 7 years old, and I've been playing them as far as I can remember. My favorite games have always been Nintendo games and indie games, especially all the games made in Game Maker on the old YoYo Games Sandbox (Rest In Peace). I also grew up watching other people make Let's Play videos on YouTube. Some of my favorite videos to watch were people playing Minecraft, Super Mario World ROM Hacks, and I Wanna Be The Guy fan games. Today, I don't watch as many LPs, but I do subscribe to several channels on game design and analysis. Video games have always been a part of my life, shaping how I think and approach the world, and I love how much joy they give to me and to others.

So with my passion for playing and making games in mind, I've always wanted to share my love of games in some way! Obviously, I make my own games and have several already posted to Game Jolt and Itch.io, but being a game developer, I have more nuanced thoughts on games that other people have made which I want to express. So, growing up watching YouTube, I've always wanted to make my own videos. Maybe I'd post my own Let's Plays, do my own challenge runs, craft meticulously edited video essays, or make a contemporary Angry Gamer review channel where I say the funny **** word. And then there's streaming! I could stream myself playing games on Twitch and upload the VODs on YouTube as a sort of video archive. Or should I just stream on YouTube? Maybe both? Which platform is better? Should I even stream at all? What about a job? How will I sustain myself? How will I make money?

...

Oh yeah. Money. I'm an adult 3 years out of college living independently with a full-time job, which I need in order to survive in this economy. It's been hard juggling my passions with my job, household chores, errands, and maintaining a social life. Frankly, I feel like I haven't even played many video games the last 2 years, let alone make them or make videos on them. The main issue I keep thinking about is time and money. I can't work on projects because my job takes time. But I can't quit my job because I need money. If my projects could make money, then I'd have the time to work on them! But that's the issue. I don't have the time. And the only way for my projects to make money is to have an audience, which I also don't have and would need to build up (it sucks to think of art so cynically like this).

So I thought to myself, can I do something easier with the little time I do have? That's where the streaming idea came in. If I make a BUNCH of content in the form of VODs, there will be more videos for YouTube to recommend to people that will totally be clicked on and I'll start to gain followers, right? *buzzer sound* Wrong. The fact of the matter is I was a mere drop in the sea of countless others thinking the same thing. In order to make money, I'd have to be a content milling machine uploading daily videos all the while maintaining an entertaining persona in every one. It takes up way more time than I have, and quite frankly I don't even like making that style of content.

...

But... what about the money?

...

...What about it?

Money ruins art. I hate how art has been commodified. Art is the very expression of human thoughts and emotion through any medium imaginable. Tying a monetary value to that expression, a value which determines whether we have food or housing, whether we even get to live, causes us to make dumb decisions in how we think about art. The money shouldn't be the point of why I make art. I make art--I share my thoughts, my emotions, my experiences--because I want to connect with other humans. I value art because it makes me feel alive. I shouldn't have to risk my life just because I want to express it.

Unfortunately though... that's the world we live in currently. But I can work around it. I can think about how better to use my time. And I can have a healthier outlook on art.

I have a list of games. A BIG list. One would certainly call it a backlog, though initially I didn't realize the nature of the beast. The games in the list are all ones that I want to play and share with the world. Most are ones I've already played and still love to this day. I originally wanted to stream these games and upload the VODs in my cynical efforts described above. As mentioned previously, though, it's not feasible nor desirable for me to do so. But I still want to share these games. What can I do if not upload videos?

I found this cute video titled "You DON'T Need a Backlog" on YouTube. The video describes how some gamers make a list of games that they just have to play and the bad habits they form around this concept. Some people treat playing games as a chore! Can you believe that? I mean... that's kinda exactly what I was doing. I still like the list since it reminds me of all the games I want to share and may otherwise forget about. But maintaining a channel is so tiring. So instead, the video suggests an alternative. Make a game log! Make a personal list of all the games you've played along with a few comments on each. You don't even have to worry about beating them, just play enough to feel satisfied. As someone who's more interested in sharing her thoughts on games than being a live entertainer, this idea seems just perfect for me!

So, this what I plan on doing. I'm going to try to post whenever I beat a game so I can share a few of my thoughts on them. I'd like to stream some of them, too, since I do enjoy streaming sometimes! But I won't stream all of them, nor will I upload any VODs except for maybe some segments I think would be especially fun. The posts I make will range from a sentence or two to full paragraphs. I've never used Tumblr before, but it seems like a chill space and I'm happy to meet the people here ^_^

This is a blog dedicated to my thoughts on video games. Follow me for posts about the games I play, the art we make, and the thoughts we share. My passion for games may have waned as of recent, but it is my goal to rekindle that flame by sharing it with others. Won't you sit by the fire with me? 🔥

[ladybugjournal]

New Chapter: The Planning

31 July 2024

Growing up, I never liked changed. I hated when things were moved around in my play room, I hated when I changed schools, I hated things I couldn't control. I still hate when I'm not in control, but I'm working on it. Now, I'm actually excited for the changes that are coming in my life.

Soon I will be moving, and then I will be moving again, and I have a lot of feelings about this. The main reason I'm moving, the real big change is that I'm going to Grad School! I've decided to get my masters in creative writing, and I'm excited for that.

The first move will be when my lease is up at my apartment in the hills (not The Hills TM). That move will come around November. I'm excited and scared, but ultimately, I know this is the best move for me.

My current living situation is not sustainable, it hasn't been for a while. Honestly, it hasn't been great for the past couple years, but I was blinded by love and trusted people who were lying to me and playing games with my head. It's corn dipped in cheese but that quote "betrayal doesn't come from your enemies" is so fucking true and I hate it.

I don't want to get into the whole thing right now, that is a story for another time, but I will say, in relation to this move, it's important. I know this will be better for me, it will allow me the freedom to take the next steps and not have extra stress because I'm walking on egg shells and not feeling safe in my own home, and also it will allow me to save money.

I'm planning on moving back in with my parents for a while (the couple months from the time my lease is up until I get into a program and move to that school). I'm going to try and transfer so I can keep working at the job I've had for the last five and half years. I wouldn't be paying rent (my parents are generous and want me to be able to save money, but I'm planning on helping out with groceries and whatever they'll let me pay for). But it will be good. I'm excited.

I'm applying to a bunch of schools (I have a list that I'm narrowing down right now). I'm leaning more towards the east coast, lower populations, small towns, forests and shit. I think I want to be around nature. I've lived in an over populated city/county for the last six years and I'm ready for the underpopulated. I want space to breathe, space to write, space to just be me. I need to slow down. I need the quite.

Also, if I'm under-stimulated my creativity will thrive because I will need to keep myself entertained. Plus, I'm aiming for a 4.0 (or at least graduating with a higher GPA than the 3.66 I graduated with in undergrad). Honestly, anything 3.8 and higher I will be happy with. So, less distractions would be nice.

I think I also just need to be by myself. I haven't been by myself for a very long time and I think we need to get to know each other again, become friends again. I've already started working on getting to know myself again. I've been journaling (by hand and here), and I've been having adventures on my own again. I think the best part about this is that even when I'm alone I don't feel lonely anymore. So, I'm calling that a win.

Okay, enough with the sappy shit, here is the plan:

September trip

Apply for grad school (applications are not open yet 😖)

Pack stuff I won't need for like 2 months (and take it to my parent's house already)

Tell my roommates I'm moving out at the end of our lease (and hope they don't explode on me)

October trip

Transfer request

MOVE

Start next steps for Grad School :)

This seems... doable.

I feel a little out of control, mainly because I'm just doing a lot of waiting. Waiting for the applications to open, waiting to hear back, waiting for my lease to be up, waiting to hear about my transfer. And yes, there are things I'm doing while I'm waiting. I'm preparing my portfolio and getting editing my submissions, I'm packing and planning, I'm going on trips and spending time with friends, but I'm still just waiting. I can't move past the next step because it's not time yet.

This is really turning out to be a training in patience. I'm not an impatient person, at least not an obnoxious impatient person. I'm fine to wait in line, I'm fine to sit in a car and drive for a long time to the fun destination, I'm fine to wait for a trip or something, but I like to be moving forward. I hate being stagnant , especially when I've decided on something.

Alas, I must wait, might as well plan and maybe try to distract myself from spiraling with creativity.

Wish me luck, Ladybug

[globalhealthguru]

Aizen Power Supplements: A Game Changer for Men's Health

For years, I struggled with low energy levels and a dip in my overall well-being. It affected my confidence and stamina, both in the gym and the bedroom. I tried various supplements, but nothing seemed to make a lasting difference. That's when I came across Aizen Power Supplements, and let me tell you, it's been a game-changer.

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Within a couple of weeks of taking Aizen Power Supplements daily, I noticed a significant improvement in my energy levels. That afternoon slump I used to experience vanished, replaced by a sustained feeling of vitality throughout the day. This newfound energy translated into a more productive workday and a renewed enthusiasm for hitting the gym after work. Workouts became more efficient, and I pushed myself further without feeling drained.

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[vizthedatum]

I'm figuring out how to do work now that I'm not being actively abused/controlled, I'm out as neurodivergent (and queer and trans), and I'm healing from my entire life.

Just had my second therapy session of this week.

I may need to increase my ADHD meds and take auDHD support tools more seriously rather than pushing myself through more burnout and trying to get my tasks done that way. And I need to actually take my anxiety medication instead of talking myself out from taking them.

I've been physically sick and so encumbered with letting people/colleagues down that I'm not effectively communicating - sometimes I can't even be verbal (autism overwhelm). I used to be able to push myself into verbal/email communication... and now I simply meltdown when pushed.

And the stupid part is that I flare (my chronic pain stuff) when I'm subject to a lot of stress. I'm still unsure if I had an infection last week.

I think I've really damaged myself by a lot of how I've accomplished my tasks. I've often been bullied (by my parents, peers, mentors, exes) to do things... or just bullied/hurt myself to do stuff. Sometimes, I do reward myself for accomplishing something, but that self-criticism is always in the back of my head.

--

So yeah, a part of me is resentful that I must now re-wire everything about how I function... but I cannot sustain my previous way of life anymore, even though I did accomplish a lot in my academic training and career in the past. My body, mind, and relationships are all paying for it.

I've made many strides in the past year - being independent and living alone was one of the best decisions. My apartment looks increasingly like a home... and a place that is so undeniably me. It's clean (for the most part), zoned, decorated (still working on this), spacious, colorful, full of books and games and fun stuff, lived in, loved (by me and my friends/partners)... I do still want a collaborative nesting partner(s) one day where we can live in harmony, but I am enjoying what I have now as well.

--

I just simply cannot ignore myself just to work. I cannot keep being mean to myself when I'm having trauma freezes or meltdowns. I need to investigate and HONOR myself - hold myself with compassion to figure out what my needs and feelings are... so I can fulfill them, so that I can do the things I need to do and like to do.

[awheckery]

DEATH TW and mentions of murder so if that is triggering for you don’t read, but if it’s not then i’d like to ask if you’ve heard of forensic genealogy? while i am uneasy at the prospect of using it to find suspects, it can also be used to find the identities of unidentified decedents, who die of accidental causes or are murdered, and often it’s the only hope to identify those who have been unidentified for decades. the dna doe project is a nonprofit that’s mostly volunteer run, and i think that your research skills could be useful there or somewhere like there. i know this is kind of a random ask to receive, identification of unidentified remains is my special interest but i don’t have the time or training to get better at researching beyond a few tricks here and there.

I feel like we've read the same articles recently; did you see the tumblr post (and linked articles) about Joseph Augustus Zarelli, the Boy in the Box?

Which is to say, yes, I am aware of forensic genealogy and the DNA Doe Project, because like many white American women, I'm a true crime junkie.* My big Thing is investigative procedure tho, so I'm also deeply interested in plane & train crash investigations, medical mysteries, archaeology, anthropology... basically 'what happened, and by which processes and methods do we figure out what happened?'

So far as getting into the game myself, I dunno. I assume there's probably some sort of required formal training, along with the expectation of reliability and sustained effort, and I'm a chronically ill autodidact with ADHD. I'm the research equivalent of a sprinter; investigative genealogy requires a marathoner, because there's so much exhausting, grinding work involved.

Something I've never seen brought up before in any investigation is how many extant family trees are just wrong. Genealogical sites make it too easy to crib notes from other users, and all it takes is one person deciding 'eh that's probably the right guy' for dozens of other amateur researchers to make the same mistake, and then somebody ties that erroneous information to their DNA profile. I don't know how the forensic genealogists deal with that.

You also have to take into account how many people throughout history have just gone missing, or otherwise fallen off the historical record. Just because someone's date of death is absent doesn't mean something nefarious happened to them. (Just because someone's date of death is present doesn't mean it's correct.) People emigrate. They marry. They change their names. They die alone and unknown in a ditch**, or they die somewhere that doesn't make those records public***. Paper records can burn or flood out, and family stories rarely make it down more than one or two generations. History is messy.

I've only done serious research into my family background for two years, in fits and starts interrupted by illness flare ups. Half the time it feels like I find more questions to ask than I get answers. I've found a pair of illegitimate daughters and a handful of adoptees. I've found some two dozen 'missing persons' who may as well have disappeared into thin air, for how suddenly they dropped out of the historical record. I've found a murder victim and a (maybe) would-be murderess.

And four months ago, I found the answer to another family's 150 year old missing person case, and it changed everything I thought I knew about my mother's family.

This is how.

Five months ago, I thought I knew everything there was that could be known about John Robert McDowell.

I knew he was born July 1st of either 1868 or 1869, in Belfast, Northern Ireland. According to his naturalization petition, he came to the United States in April of 1883, when the absolute oldest he could have been was fourteen, and at the time of his naturalization in 1896 he claimed his nationality was English, presumably due to anti-Irish sentiments at the time.

I knew John's handwriting was idiosyncratic: he wrote the J in his name with a rightward upper loop that scooped up again before curving back around the center staff, and his uppercase R was a mess of curlicues. I've never seen the like before or since.

I knew that despite living in America for ten years longer than he'd lived outside it, John still had an accent in 1908 when his second son was born. Spelling is incredibly inconsistent across historical records because up until very recently, it was the practice of the record keepers to write down their best guess at what they heard, and in 1908 a midwife heard and recorded John's surname as McDoul.

John's life was actually remarkably well-documented, in comparison to his contemporaries. I bought myself access to Newspapers.com along with my Ancestry subscription, and he made semi-regular appearances in the Newport News Daily Press for the better part of thirty years as a Navy veteran, successful entrepreneur, and president of a labor union that later became the United Steelworkers Local 8888. (A seemingly throwaway notice in the Daily Press was the only record I've yet been able to find for his divorce, which eventually led me to find out whatever happened to his wife, which is another saga entirely. Pauline, you dirty rotten cheater.)

I knew that John was in and out of the hospital with thyroid cancer, but he was such a tough old bastard it took the better part of fifteen years to kill him, and he died in 1954 at the age of 86.****

According to John's death certificate (and the U.S. Government records at the VA hospital where he died), his parents' names were Thomas McDowell and Isabell Rabb (or possibly Robb, the Accent strikes again.)

This is the only record linked to either of them on Ancestry.com at all.

I have most of a history degree, so I wasn't surprised. There are next to no records of the 1890 census of the United States, and that was down to a fire in the National Archives. Ireland was dragged backwards through hell by the ankles for centuries by a succession of British monarchs and governments, and Belfast was in the prime of especially conflicted territory for much of it. No census records from John's lifetime were kept, and the likelihood his parents would show up in the surviving fragments from 1841 and 1851 was slim to none.

There were transcribed indexes from birth and marriage records available, at least, and I scoured them through, looking for a John McDowell, and there wasn't a single damn one born to a Thomas or Isabelle McDowell in a decade on either side of 1868. There wasn't any record I could find at all of a Thomas McDowell marrying an Isabelle Rabb until well after John left Ireland.

Five months ago, as far as I knew, John Robert McDowell was probably a bastard, who'd either been left out of whatever records were taken at the time, or he was one of the unfortunate ones whose birth record had been lost.

Four months ago, I realized that the record indexes on Ancestry included film numbers, which meant there were pictures of those records to be found somewhere. If they were organized chronologically, I could try to find his birth registration that way. Googling "ireland civil registration records" brought me to the Civil Records search page of a genealogy site run by, of all things, the Irish government's tourism department.

Once again, there wasn't a John McDowell born to the right parents during the right time period, so I went looking for his parents' marriage. And found it.

If they married in 1872, John would probably still technically be a bastard, but I had a point to start from. Once I clicked into the actual scan of the record I nearly snapped myself in half sitting upright in attention, because Thomas McDowell's father's name was Duncan, John named his eldest son Duncan, Isabella's father's name was John, I had to have the right two people, this couldn't be a coincidence.

And then I noticed Isabella was a widow. Isabella was a widow.

Who was your husband, and when did he die, Isabella? I searched again, and found her marriage to a Thomas Logan July 30th, 1866. No men named Thomas Logan died in Belfast between 1866 and 1870, which meant he was probably still alive when John was born. It meant I had been looking in the wrong direction the entire time.

John Robb Logan came into the world on July 1st, 1868, in the Ballymacarrett district of Belfast, the second child of four born to Thomas Logan and Isabella Robb. Once I knew what I was looking for the rest came easy.

John's early life was riddled with tragedies. His younger brother Joseph was six months old when he died in March of 1870. His father died of smallpox in December of the same year, exactly one month after the birth of his sister Mary. Three months before his fifth birthday, his first half-sibling Bella died, at just five months old. And in 1879, his older brother William died after a long, miserably drawn-out illness from spinal tuberculosis.

(As an aside, god, poor Isabella. She had four children with Thomas Logan, and a further nine with Thomas McDowell, and before her early death from a long respiratory illness she buried a husband, two sons, and two daughters. How do you go on after that, how are you not forever shattered?)

If I hadn't been sure I'd found the right family, I was after William died. Thomas McDowell was the person who reported William's death to the registrar's office after sitting by his deathbed. The registrar recorded William as a "child of [the] baker" that Thomas was by profession; Thomas McDowell claimed his stepson as his own.

Duncan McDowell, John's step-grandfather, had a family burial plot in Ballygowan, and he named William Adam Logan as his grandson, with no qualifiers, when they buried him.

All the evidence suggests that the McDowells loved John Robb Logan and his siblings, and he loved them back every bit as much. You don't choose to take on the surname of people you hate, and it seems very much the case that John chose to go by McDowell when he came to America. I'm honestly not sure there was a way for Thomas McDowell to bequeath his name to his stepchildren, given John's brother William died a Logan and his sister Mary married as one.

John Robb Logan disappeared from history after his baptism, and John Robert McDowell made his first confirmed appearance in the historical record in 1883, but I was certain they were one and the same. The problem was proving it to my mother, because McDowell was her family name. She'd grown up with it, as had her sisters and her dozens of cousins and her father and his siblings and her father's father; I only had a paper trail arguing the name she knew didn't belong to any of them by blood.

So I went for blood.

I refuse to give my DNA to Ancestry.com on a principle born from paranoia and ethics concerns. It's absolutely not happening, ever, like hell do I expect a corporation to do the right thing with my genetic material. My mother doesn't share my concerns, either now or four years ago, when she bought an Ancestry DNA kit and then did absolutely nothing with her results besides marvel at the unexpected Swedish heritage in her 'Ethnicity Estimate' because doing anything else looked like too much work.

It took a few days to figure out how to hook my mother's DNA results into the tree I've built, and a few more for all the features to populate, but all told it took less than a week between learning the truth about my great-great-grandfather's parentage and proving it irrefutably with DNA, via several descendants of his full-blooded sister Mary and a grandson of his half-brother Wallace.

Ancestry doesn't tell you when new DNA matches are found, or when someone adds you to their tree (and thank god for that, my mother has somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand matches). To those descendants of Mary Thomasina Logan, the handful of John's descendants who've shelled out for Ancestry DNA kits could be any random person. Frequently the relationships between matches aren't clear, because of all the folks like my mom who never add a tree to their results, or those who don't try to go any further back than their grandparents.

As far as Mary Logan's descendants know, the sons of Thomas Logan dead-ended his line, and when I do find John in their trees there's never more than a birth year and a blank space where there would usually be a year of death. (They all have the wrong Isabella Robb too, but I don't really blame them; apparently Isabella was one of the most popular names for girls for well over a century, and Robbs weren't exactly thin on the ground.)

Someday soon, I'm going to reach out. People who study genealogy do it because they're looking for something: long lost relatives, answers to questions asked too late, or even a better, more personal understanding of history by learning about the people who were there when it happened. Every family has its mysteries and this one, at least, could be solved.

John's story doesn't end here. Here is where it begins.

~

*I'm aware of the problematic nature of White Lady True Crime Brain Poisoning, but I'm gonna have to pull the 'I'm not like other girls' card. I'm incredibly discerning about my crime shows, I hate the fucking cops, and I'm realistic about how unbelievably low my chances are of ever being the victim of a violent crime. I'm white, I'm broke as shit, I'm built like a running back and walk like the Terminator, and most importantly, I'm single and planning to stay that way for the rest of my life. The only way I'm getting murdered is if I happen to get caught in a random mass shooting, which isn't outside the realm of possibility because America.

**In case anyone's gotten this far and is still interested, there's strong evidence that the mystery of the Somerton Man was finally solved last year. At some point I'd like to take a look at the tree the forensic genealogists built tho, because I have some Doubts. There was only one person in that family that fell off the map in the 40's? Just one? I was lightning-strike kinds of lucky enough to find John's real parentage, but I dug up more unanswered questions with it, because two of his half-brothers dropped out of the records after 1901. Completely setting aside the possibility of infidelity in the Webb family and how common inbreeding has been (both historically and in recent memory) in populations of European descent, I have a hard time buying that Carl Webb was the only person who could be the Somerton Man. It's still cool as shit that they have a strong possibility tho.

***Maryland and Kansas specifically can blow me, if somebody died in either of those states I have to find an obituary or a tombstone to get the mcfrickin' date, and I have to either pay money and prove a relationship to see a death certificate, or show up to an archive in person to search on their intranet, MARYLAND WHY DO YOU NOT WANT ME TO KNOW WHEN MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER DIED. (Being fair, I don't know if she died in Maryland, that's just a great-uncle's best guess, because she ran away from her family in 1949 and nobody ever saw her again after the early 60's. Helen, where the hell did you go?)

****One of the big reasons why I got into genealogy in the first place was to see if I could find how far back the predisposition to early deaths and autoimmune disease went in my family. What I hadn't expected to find was a predisposition for extreme longevity on all sides. Longevity as in 'skewing the life expectancy bell curve' kinds of longevity. As long as someone didn't come down with a freak illness or make a looooooooong string of poor life choices, they were apparently immune to death, which honestly explains a few things about Crazy Grandma, god damn.

[broodygaming]

.

Juuust venting.

Idk. I don't even expect ppl to read this, it's okay, I'm fine literally just typing it out for the sake of typing it out cuz I don't have anyone I can chat about it with.

But I'm 30 years old, disabled and living with my mom and things have gone from weird to bad to worse and idk what to do about it. I can't get a job, I can't work, I can't seem to qualify for disability. I can't seem to do anything.

My mom is a good kind person in so many things. But idk. I think she really genuinely didn't think that me moving in with her would be permanent. I think she just assumed I'd get it together and get a job and leave again. I was always the most self sufficient kid. I moved away! I was doing good! So it seemed from a distance anyways.

Now it's like, every day she's just MAD that I just can't do things. She gets mad that I'm forgetful or that my spoons are like 0 all the time. She gets mad that I'm not magically clearing the entire property by myself or I'm not building all these things or doing all these things. She just gets mad mad mad that I don't function. I think it just confuses her? Or scares her? Idk. And she'll weaponize my disability in this really weird way. She'll say things like "well if you're really THAT disabled maybe I should hire a baby sitter for you because you can't be trusted to be alone." Literally. And when I say no, that's weird I don't need that - it OF COURSE means I must just be lying about how bad everything else is!

I don't have anywhere else to go. I have one single friend in the universe and things are always kinda tense with her too. She's offered to let me come stay in her shed, haha. Her husbands a contractor so that's not as bad as it sounds. He'd make it nice and functional. But it would ruin our relationship.

It's not sustainable to just couch hop, I can feel kind people thinking of typing out an offer - but lbr, that's just not sustainable. I'm not going to magically get better. I'm not temporarily out of work. It's not just for until I get things "figured out". I need a permanent solution.

So I'm genuinely thinking of just refurbishing my truck and putting a mattress in the back and buying a recharable solar battery and a fancy bucket and going on the road. It's an old truck (almost 300K miles!! YES you read that right!! Old ass work truck!! but it runs really well and is stupid sturdy). And maybe just living off the cash assistance I get from the government and camping? I like to camp, I like being outside. And maybe I just sleep in my truck in parking lots and then for a few nights of the week stay at a campsite to freshen up?

Lots of people do it, so I know it's doable. It'd be hard to give up creature comforts like plumbing and really (I know this is dumb but) my computer. I like video games haha, it's one of my fav past times. I know my bigger hold ups should be like, security and warmth and shit. But still. I have so much time and energy put into these stupid pixels it's hard to imagine giving that up.

And my animals! I'd have to sell my goats, probably just give my chickens to my neighbors. And even though it's literally so so irresponsible, I'm taking my fucking dog. I've had to give up one dog previously because I was temporarily homeless and couldn't find a rentable space that was pet friendly. And I swore I'd never do it again. Plus - even though it's irresponsible and her food costs easily 80 bucks a month - I actually think I'd be a lot safer with her with me. And less alone. I think she'd love it, tbh. I don't think this would permanently burn bridges with my mom. She'd be mad, but if I called her and said Dahlia's sick I need money for a vet she'd give it to me. And if she wouldn't, my friend would and they have money to spare. So I actually think, out of everything that's not that big of a gamble. I have a safety net for her. And I'm good at doing yearly shots myself etc. So it's just emergencies, food and 3 year rabies shots I can't do myself.

Another reason I'm spitballing all this here is it's not for sure. Hopefully it doesn't come to this. But my mom and I have been fighting relentlessly and there's no end in sight. She's like, mad that I'm here. And comes home mad that I'm here. It's exhausting and it's not going to get magically better. She bought this property and is now throwing it in my face like I'm the one who forced her to do it. She's terrified she won't be able to retire and is blaming me for it. I don't want to be a burden and she clearly doesn't want me to be one anymore either and idk who else I can ask. Who else can I INFLICT my existence on to? This is why disabled people end up in abusive relationships and then stay. What are the fucking options? I'm so grateful I have my physical health and am able to even think of taking such a physically demanding option.

So it's like a 30% chance it comes to this. I'll try and just adjust and put up with things being weird and toxic because that's better than shitting in a bucket in the walmart parking lot. For now.

[yassalghul]

ok so life rant under the cut

ok so ok sO

life in shanghai is fine

i mean i get paid very well and the cost of living is very low

school holidays are mad long so i get huge breaks through the year

but i work long hours in term time and it's very overwhelming sometimes, especially when i'm a week away from it starting up again after the summer holidays, and i know i shouldn't complain bc i got a promotion that i basically begged my boss for but i'm terrified of the new year starting and me having the new responsibility

but also life in shanghai is so annoying because the city is so big that it takes FOREVER to get anywhere and we live far away from the metro so if you don't get a taxi (traffic) then you have to walk 15 minutes, grab a hire bike, cycle 15 minutes, THEN get to the metro where it's at least 40 minutes into town

and when you're in town there are SOME museums and nice things to do but most of the stuff that's accessible to foreigners (slash popular) is clubs, bars, live music (but not the good stuff unless you're into dance music or whatever) or eating out. and like those things are fine but not the things i like to do. and the climbing gyms here suck and the board game cafes are forever away and there's other fun stuff but it's just hard to even get started with it

and then this summer was supposed to be great but we had a month in england with husband's family and it was nice but SO STRESSFUL oh my god and we were both just kinda counting down the days til we got some holiday time to ourselves and it feels like this whole summer has been wasted and i'm going back to work and he is studying uni but from a distance so again we're going back to him being home alone and me working long hours and i know we're here for the money and to save for a house and sometimes it's great but other times i just worry that it's not sustainable for another two years

and when we were home i only got to see my friends twice?!?! and i was so excited about the whole holiday, we both were, and it ended up just sucking and it all just feels like such a waste

and i want to move back home like england home and i can't bc like what will we do where will we live

and if i finish the job i'm doing right now, what other jobs are there? where will we live? like what WHAT jobs can i do that arenm't the one i already do, i have made myself into a niche job person and screwed myself over because now i can't really do any other jobs and i have NO experience of jobs outside of working in education anyway

and i kNOW the grass is greener on the other side and i know things will probably be better soon but it's not better now and that just SUCKS

and like all of this is such first world problems and i know this

like oh boohoo my next holiday is to nz and my work pays for our flights

but like we're going to nz so we can have christmas with family and actually i'd rather just have christmas with husband somewhere nice just us bc we couldn't do this summer together but i'm always stressed that i'll disappoint my family and this is an example of it and i hate this i hate it

[devsgames]

Bombing!! A Graffiti Sandbox: 1 Year Revenue Breakdown + Retrospective

I'm going to give a little breakdown of the cost/profits of my solo developed creative sandbox graffiti game Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox, from a one-year snapshot after release.

Disclaimer: This information was originally posted in July 2022 on my Twitter, and I'm reposting it here because I believe it's incredibly useful information for other developers to have when publishing something. It's the exact kind of information I wish I had when first venturing into gamedev solo!

Profit Breakdown

Units Sold (Steam): 1,167

Total Grossing (Steam): $5,792 USD

Total Net (Steam): $4,133 USD

Units Sold (Itch): 20

Total Grossing (Itchio): $106.00 USD

Cost Breakdown

Unity Plugins: $100.48 USD

Music (Licensing): $190.39 USD

Localization: $87.08 USD

Promo (Event fees + VO for reels): $55 USD

Steam listing: $125 USD

Total non-labour costs: $557.95 USD

Observations

Itch Organic Discoverability is typically very low. I tend not to use Itch as a primary host for my work because of this reason alone. It's pay structure is more equitable, but people rarely discover my games there. I use Itch to put my game in charitable bundles for good causes and for giving people an option to buy through there if they prefer, but I don't promote my work via that because I've never found success there.

At time of writing (July 2022) I was averaging ~$120 USD per month from Steam sales. As of November 2022 this has decreased to ~$90, which means my Steam profits of both Bombing!!: A Graffiti Paradise and Lofty Quest don't make enough sales to pass the $100 monthly Steam payout limit.

I don't plan to recoup labour fees on nay project, ever. Simply put, with how the market is and the devaluation of games in general I don't anticipate ever becoming sustainable enough to afford the price of the actual work I put into my projects. Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox was made over the course of ~7 months with hundreds of hours of labour put into it - even in terms of minimum wage rates that's a lot for an indie title to try and make back on, so planning for that has always felt unrealistic for me.

I'm lucky I found a niche. Non-VR painting simulators are in short supply, and there was a lot of people who wanted to be able to draw in a world without an expensive VR barrier to entry. I think knowing the market and planning for that ended up being a smart move on my part.

A lot of success has been due to my network. Word of mouth spread on Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox was pretty solid, and without word getting out early on I suspect these numbers would have shaken out a fair bit worse.

In Summary

I think Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox was a success.

Honestly, as my first published digital title I expected it to flop and my goal was to simply make back the cost it took to get it onto the Steam store (~$125 USD). I think it had made that back in roughly a week after it launched, which blew me away.

I do think it was largely privilege and luck that got me there however. Even considering how rough the game is (looking at it now it's crazy to me that I actually shipped it) I'm super grateful it found its audience and a community that cared so deeply about it despite its flaws.

It's also a big reason why I want to make Bombing!! 2: A Graffiti Paradise the best that it can be, to properly give the people who supported me something even better to play around with :)

(As with anything else, I'm totally open to asks for specifics or further observations on this sort of stuff if there's anything else you'd like to know, or even just have any curiosities about! As I mentioned, when I was starting out I wish I had more bizdev resources that were transparent about raw numbers like this from the perspective of people working at a similar scale to myself, so I wanna give back however I can.)

[corwen]

Games I Finished In 2024 -- SOMA

"What does it mean to be human?" is a question that has been asked by science fiction again and again and again and again and again and again and I don't think I'll ever really get sick of it.

SOMA is, technically, a survival horror game, but I think it succeeded more as a sci-fi story.

Simon Jarrett, local Canadian car crash victim, goes in for a brain scan and wakes up in a ruined facility under the ocean.

Spoilers below.

I literally finished the game two hours ago, so here's my attempt at a summary.

It is now 100 years in the future. A comet has hit the earth, and the underwater facility, Pathos-II, has become the home of humanity's sole survivors. Several of the facility's staff have had their brain scans uploaded into robot bodies or have otherwise been mutated by the resident AI, the WAU, which has followed a protocol that requires it to keep people alive, albeit with a warped definition.

In an effort to preserve humanity, Pathos member Catherine has created the ARK, a device that stores brain scans in a sort of idyllic digital environment for thousands of years, if it can get launched into space. So, the main goal of the game is to find the ARK, load it into a big space railgun thing, upload your brain into the ARK, and launch it into space.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

The game starts by asking you to choose either "normal" or "safe" mode. In retrospect, I wish I had picked the Safe mode, where the monsters will still chase you, but not kill you. The stealth/chase sequences were easily my least favorite part of the game, and took me out of the tension at times.

Key scary parts: being pursued very quickly by a fucking Creature in a decrepit old creaky ship, and walking on the ocean floor where I could barely see in front of me. There was one part where I had to follow lamps to find out where to go, and I quickly found myself in front of an anglerfish.

Who is the "real" Simon? We have 2015 Simon, then post-Apocalypse-waking-up-in-a-diver-suit-body Simon, then we had that brain scan copied into a Power Suit resulting in two Simons existing in the same space at the same time, then Simon being copied onto the ARK while also remaining in the power suit in the ocean. All of them? The first one?

The ending is bittersweet-ish. We see Simon alone, left behind after the ARK launches. Then, we see the Simon and Catherine that got uploaded on the ARK, reunited and happy. The solar panels on the ARK will sustain it for thousands of years, according to Catherine, but then what? Humanity ends, either way.

[fedorahead]

i was such a sad child

this whole morning, memories have been washing over me

beautiful memories, of love, of childhood, of experiences. of places that don't exist anywhere else now.

the adults tried their best. better than anyone i know now that all my friends are raising kids. there was always someone who cared for me, who wanted to give me a beautiful life.

but i spent all that time feeling so alone, so abandoned, in so much pain all the time

nothing can counter abuse, nothing erases the trauma of being disabled and nobody recognizing it, nothing takes away having an unstable parent and a struggling one.

i got told so often that i was ungrateful, but i wasn't, i was just afraid. so afraid of everything that could and would go wrong.

i don't buy presents for my family much. it's an ongoing struggle. when you don't know the day of the week and can't plan ahead, holidays are really hard and budgeting is near impossible. so every holiday i'm panic scrolling wish or temu or whatever hoping i'll find something worthwhile and then it ships to the wrong state and i've failed again because i just don't have that capacity.

my baby is going to have a lot of adults in their life. but those adults don't do their best for the kids they already have. nobody's doing their best right now. we were thriving in the 90s. we're all struggling now. and the kids suffer. and before he's even born, i can see the suffering creeping closer to my kid's childhood.

i'll never take him to disney. he won't grow up near LA. he's not going to have many cherished memories of restaurants and a life of privilege like i had. we're poor, we're poly, we're in a rough city, we're autistic and not like my grandpa the engineer but like my mom, who jumped from job to job and rehab to rehab not ever getting the right diagnosis and living off disability now.

all the gifts and expenses and shopping trips and film festivals and theme parks and fancy lunches in the world won't make a childhood good, and this baby will have love. and he'll have parents who aren't teenagers, who have already raised children and have learned so many lessons. but he'll also have parents as ill as mine were, with all our own flaws.

it would be nice to cover those flaws in expenses, life changing experiences, a childhood of joy and wonder and amazing shit. but his older brothers have more toys and games and electronics than they even care to use and they're not happy either because it takes more. and when someone in my family was burnt out there was always someone else. and when i was struggling with one family i could always go to my other family. and this little guy is gonna have just us, and who we live with, no other parent to call for a pickup on a bad day. just the christmas we can offer. maybe if we're lucky i can take him to see my family in texas every year.

but i want to be able to give myself awesome everyday experiences like museums and symphonies like my family gave me, and i can't manage that, so how am i going to do it for a kid?

my husband is amazing. he cooks, he helps me clean up my chaos, he takes me to concerts when i can't afford to. but he doesn't think the way i do and he didn't have adults constantly looking for ways to make life more fun and stimulating and fascinating. he doesn't have that precedent.

he's happier than me, overall, but those memories are where i find my happiness... even though i couldn't feel it at the time.

and the more i reminisce, the more i see and feel the decline. the hope fade from my life. the efforts get smaller. when your brain doesn't reward you, you stop accomplishing much on your own. and i was never able to maintain that momentum they set for me, because depression had always made me just a passive enjoyer, and the bursts of inspiration were never enough to sustain my own interest in life. and they come less and less, and more in the form of consumption now. buy the entry tools to this hobby. crave this food. get out of the house and go anywhere at all, just get out, spend some money you don't have.

i wanted to design shopping malls and space stations as a kid and now my most recent life changing memory is i went to a nice bookstore saturday.

hell, i had a project i wanted to do by sunday and it just never happened.

there's no untangling all of life from the rest of itself, no removing the trauma from the beautiful days, the sadness from the privilege. and i don't know how to give my kid one while protecting him from the other.

i wish i could get back to sleep.