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Ambers, florals, fruits, lavender, and beeswax: 27 BPAL reviews

2023.06.06 04:42 TeaAndCozy Ambers, florals, fruits, lavender, and beeswax: 27 BPAL reviews

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is undoubtedly a powerhouse, if not the powerhouse of the indie perfume world. Who else (like me) came to indie perfume at least in part from the hat-tip to BPAL in the acknowledgements of Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus? I actually still have never ordered from BPAL directly, but I have amassed a fair few samples and decants thanks to Ajevie, Arae, and swaps. And it's always fun to read through the names and notes of each new collection release!
My general thoughts about BPAL are these: they clearly know what they're doing and have an enormous library of notes for them to draw upon. Sometimes new releases feel very much like they just sort of reached into a dark cupboard and combined whatever bottles they happened to grab (particularly the Ménages à Trois), and yet sometimes the unexpected combinations are genius. (Sometimes they are very much not.) BPAL's perfumes tend to work okay for me, but they're not one of my top houses (that list is made up of Nui Cobalt, Poesie, Arcana, and NAVA), although a few BPAL scents have turned out to be holy grails for me (Drow Yoga Instructor, Mouse's Long and Sad Tale). Oddly enough, their florals often tend not to work well on my skin, which is hugely disappointing especially since I deliberately sought out a lot of their ethereal-sounding florals and then a lot of them failed for me. However, their sandalwood incense is astounding, and I love their sweet pea, plum, and pink sandalwood notes.
My preferences: I especially love snuggly scents, incense, golden amber, cardamom, black tea, beeswax, non-gourmand vanillas, and white florals (though sadly I am allergic to lilies and jasmine doesn’t usually work on me). I don't like hay, overly sweet gourmands, excessive musk, leather, dragon’s blood, patchouli, labdanum, or any really dark scents in general.
So here are 27 reviews, organized roughly by category:

Ambers

And With My Spade I Delfe My Landys [Snow-capped golden amber with snowdrop, winter gardenia, hellebore, and iris] - First off, I'm a scholar of Renaissance music, with a real fondness for medieval Books of Hours. Second, I get obsessed with snowdrops in the late winter when the cottagecore-y, hobbit-y, linen-enthusiast circles of Instagram that I haunt fill with photos of snowdrops in February. So how could I pass this one up? I get golden amber and floral as anticipated, and also (just on application, then it recedes) a very resinous, citrusy, herbal scent that I can't quite place - rosemary? Pine? Some combination of the two? It's also a bit powdery (iris has a tendency to pull powdery on me, and as a lover of powdery florals that's just fine with me). And With My Spade is so very reminiscent of those first tentative flowers pushing up through whatever snow still lays on the ground and it's absolutely bonkers wonderful for that transitional season between winter and spring, which is of course what I bought it for.
Bastet [Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus] - On application, that golden amber reads as powdery honey. As it dries, a sophisticated Egyptian musk and a hint of lotus floral emerge. This perfume is not really gourmand despite the notes. I wish the incense or spices had more presence. As it is, this perfume is nice but it feels a little thin.
Cathedral [Venerable and solemn: the scent of incense smoke wafting through an ancient church. A true ecclesiastical blend of pure resins] - Ohhh, it's pretty. Golden and resinous with only the slightest hint of smokiness. These resins feel closer to tree sap than a dark or spiced incense, so while it's not like any church I've ever experienced, Cathedral is gorgeous and uplifting. I got one scant wear out of my sniffie and would definitely consider getting another sample.
Golden Priapus [A truly carnal, energetic men’s blend: vanilla and amber with juniper, rosewood and white pine] - My experience with this was so puzzling that I went to look up reviews on the BPAL forum, which only puzzled me further! On me, Golden Priapus is an extremely resinous, rosewood-y and tree sap-y golden amber not altogether dissimilar to Hexennacht Baltic Amber [Thick rivulets of golden amber, pinus succinifera, cedarwood, jammy fir absolute, oakmoss absolute, tree moss, verdant musk, cardamom, balsam, lightning-scorched ancient boughs] but with more tree resin and less verdant evergreen. "Carnal" and "energetic" it is not - so off to the forum, where I consistently saw reviews calling this "masculine" and even "a more masculine Snake Oil". I've sniffed Snake Oil (just in the vial, not on my skin) and it had a very red musk + spices vibe, and I don't really see a similarity to Golden Priapus. Nor would I call this "masculine" unless you're the sort who views resinous, sappy golden amber as a more stereotypically men's scent.
The Sun Rising [Three shades of tawny amber radiating with orange blossom, Italian yellow bergamot, saffron, and mandarin] - Golden amber and citrus, with a lot of the saffron. I tested what little was left in the free sniffie in late August, and it was absolutely perfect for the heat of late summer, though I don't think I'll bother buying more because the citrus overpowers the amber a bit (especially the prominent bergamot, not my favorite note).
My Wise Beauty [A simple scent for a quiet memory: white sandalwood and sweet amber] - Resinous golden amber and creamy sandalwood…and vanilla frosting? The "sweet" part of "sweet amber" isn't just flowery adjective but actual description. My Wise Beauty is simple and straightforward but really pretty, wrapping me in a blanket of coziness. The sugary frosting aspect will keep me from seeking out more when this little decant is exhausted, but I will happily wear what's here.

Florals

Alice [Milk and honey with rose, carnation and bergamot] - Soft florals, with the carnation a little more present than the rose. I'm always wary of milk or dairy notes, but the milk and honey here simply serve to mute the rose and carnation, both of which can go strongly green or spicy. I don't dislike this perfume, but as a person who doesn't much love these particular floral notes (I'm much more into white florals, especially tuberose and tiare), it's a little bit boring for me and I ended up destashing this one.
Juliet [Sweet pea with stargazer lily, calla lily, heliotrope, honeysuckle, white musk and a touch of fresh pear] - Disappointingly nondescript. Nonspecific white florals and a hint of pear sweetness. It's dainty and feminine but not memorable. For sweet pea, I'll get my fix with Mouse's Long and Sad Tale.
Lady Amalthea [A luminous white winter musk with lilac, wisteria, white chocolate, white mint, and tuberose] - When it first goes on, the different elements - the florals (I definitely get tuberose, and another floral that must be wisteria, which I'm unfamiliar with), the camphoric spearmint, the white chocolate, and the musk just barely brushing animalic - fight with each other, but it quickly dries down to a much more seamless whole, pretty winter florals over a comforting and Poesie-like white chocolate musky base layer.
Maiden [A gentle vision of purity, goodness and virtue: white tea, carnation and Damask Rose] - It's a lovely combination of rose and carnation, much like Alice, with a slight hint of the green stems but mostly the fragrant flowers (and without the sharp spiciness carnation can sometimes get). On application when it was extremely and uniformly floral, I thought that this perfume needed some vanilla or amber or sandalwood to give it dimension, but as it dried, the white tea emerged to do exactly that - it's not a bitter, astringent white tea, but more the feeling of steam rising from a pale tea in a china teacup. Still, I'm ambivalent at best about rose and carnation, so I destashed it.
Mouse's Long and Sad Tale [Vanilla, two ambers, sweet pea and white sandalwood] - This one is so pretty, delicately sweet and floral, and a staple of my spring perfumes! (Meanwhile, Husband says it smells like talc powder, acknowledging that I like exactly that kind of thing.) I don't get amber or sandalwood individually, but they lend the vanilla a mellowness and warmth. Several hours later, it lingers as a warm sandalwood-amber-vanilla. I love this one so much that I sought out a decant of Mouse's Long and Sad Pumpkin, which I'm saving to try this fall.
Pele [Muguet and Hawaiian white ginger enveloped by warm, damp tropical blooms] - So pretty! This is entirely a white floral perfume, tiare backed by tuberose (I think? A second white floral, definitely). If there's any ginger in there, I don't notice it. I adore tiare so I am entirely happy, though I can also acknowledge that this perfume lacks depth or complexity. I love this and other tropical white florals for summer.
Zorya Polunochnaya [Pale amber and ambergris, gossamer vanilla, moonflower, and white tobacco petals] - A crowd favorite, and I wanted to see what everyone was talking about! This has a sweet + salty, white amber + pink cotton candy effect. The slight tinge of butter and salt to this white amber (no doubt amplified by the ambergris) reminds me of the Alkemia white ambers, Luminae especially. I actually don't really get any florals from this one, which is a pity because I love the moonflower in Nui Cobalt Crown of Hekate [Moonflower and myrrh over shining white amber on a pillow of sheer vanilla] though I find the myrrh in that one quite overpowering. I had been hoping this would be a nice alternative. As Zorya P starts to dry, the tobacco starts to emerge and replaces the initial pink cotton candy effect. It's gentle as tobacco goes, but still more than I would prefer. All in all, it's been really fun to try this one since everyone's been talking about it - and it is indeed just as "gossamer" as the notes description says, though it has a really surprising longevity! But it's not ultimately going to find a place in my collection, since I have other, equally ethereal vanillas that I prefer, and I'm really not into tobacco.

Lavender

TKO [No official notes - people agree that it's lavender and marshmallow] - Yep, lavender and marshmallow. A particularly herbal, astringent lavender, which cuts beautifully through the sweet powderiness of the marshmallow. I'm also getting a sort of dusty background incense, which makes this scent remind me of Stereoplasm Lavender Scarab [Golden amber, English lavender, blackberry, incense], but with marshmallow instead of golden amber
A Place of Seeing [Pink rosebuds and lavender with amber-gilded sandalwood, vanilla bean, bergamot, and marshmallow] - It goes on with the same sleepy lavender as in TKO, made more detailed and complex with the addition of the gentle pink rose petals and the amber-sandalwood-vanilla base. It wafts around me a haze of femininity. As it dries, the marshmallow emerges too, and it becomes obvious that this is literally TKO with the addition of rose and those warm base notes. Very pretty!
The Air and the Ether [Gentle, almost imperceptible, permeating all things: pale amber vibrating with ambergris and a thread of lavender] - Lavender, one that sits midway between herbal and floral, and skin musk. It's an incredibly skin-hugging scent, but has excellent longevity.
On Wednesday, I Will Promise You a Phantom [A gust of luminous lavender, the spectral skin musk of a gently curving ghostly hand, a melodic twang of wisteria and ylang ylang, and a murmur of myrrh-touched vanilla husk] - Another "sleepy lavender" scent - I have several of these in my perfume collection and I love them all. This is a really ghostly, ethereal scent, wafting elusively around me. On Wednesday is primarily a lavender + vanilla scent, but with a bit of complexity. The lavender is the herbal sort, but it's so soft that it's not at all astringent, and the faintest hint of the other florals makes the lavender sometimes smell like the floral sort. Adding just a touch of myrrh was a really clever choice on their part - there's so little that it doesn't make it smell earthy or smoky, but it grounds it and gives it complexity and richness. It's really quite a lovely, ghostly scent.

Fruits

Drow Yoga Instructor [Wild plum, indigo lavender, and a tranquil tendril of sandalwood incense] - A dusty and purple scent with an absolutely gorgeous gentle incense note (I love sandalwood incense!) backed up by lavender flowers (sort of midway between floral and herbal), and a plum note that is intense fruity candy for about 2 seconds when applied, and then merely makes this scent truly purple. When I say "dusty", I actually mean it - after about half an hour, the sandalwood incense really does start to include an actual dust note. This is a stunning scent for yoga practice, or any day you want a gentle purple incense scent. It is the yoga perfume for me, gorgeous and meditative and containing possibly my favorite-ever incense note (sorry, NCD cathedral incense, I promise I love you too!). I don't wear this one as often as I'd like to because I also have other yoga perfumes and I like to rotate through them, but honestly this is my holy grail yoga scent. Even though it has low longevity on me; it'll last through a yoga class and then some, and that's really all I need from it. I'm seriously considering buying a full bottle, which (since I'm a person who full-sizes hardly anything) tells you something about how essential it is for my collection.
Painted Scars [Wild plum and white sandalwood with lavender bud, white musk, and blackberry wine] - I snapped up a half-ml decant of this as soon as I saw the notes, because it reminded me so much of both their Drow Yoga Instructor and also Stereoplasm Lavender Scarab [Golden amber, English lavender, blackberry, incense], both scents I really like. This is a much brighter, fruitier scent than Drow Yoga Instructor, the plum and blackberry combination going on as brash fruity candy (I don't love this stage). But it does dry down to a very calming scent, those dark fruits joined by a bit of grounding lavender and sandalwood. Unlike the two others I thought this would be similar to, Painted Scars noticeably lacks incense, but it definitely lives in their same family. I quite enjoy it (once it has dried down) but won't need to seek out more. I do wonder if layering this with Drow Yoga Instructor might improve the latter's longevity, which would be thrilling if it works.
Titania [A nocturnal bounty of fae dew-kissed petals and pale fruits: white grape, white peach, iced pear, musk rose, sweet pea, moonflower and snapdragon] - It goes on with a blast of fruits too sweet and fruit snack-like, mostly that white grape, but as it sits the florals suddenly emerge with a great whack of petals, and at this point I'm very puzzled because the particular combination of fruit and indistinct white florals reminds me a great deal of mint toothpaste. Another one that's a nice idea but doesn't really work for me on execution.

Greenery

Elf [Pale golden musk, honeycomb, amber, parma violet, hawthorne bark, aspen leaf, forest lily, life everlasting, white moss, and a hint of wild berry] - Wet on my skin, it's pine needles seen through a soft, gauzy veil - it's a strange but lovely effect, the pine needles muted by fruit and amber. Dry, the pine needles disappear entirely, and the perfume is an indistinct but really pretty mix of greenery, floral, berry-like fruit, and glowing golden amber. The overall effect is pretty muted, and by this I don't mean that it lacks throw, just that all of the elements are soft and gentle. It does feel undeniably elfin. I thought it would be a spring perfume but then never wore it the next spring, and when I tried it in early summer, it was much too tree-ish for me - but Husband loved it and happily took ownership.

Beeswax

The Lights of Men's Lives [The wax and smoke of millions upon millions of candles illuminating the walls of Death’s shadowy cave: some tall, straight, and strong, blazing with the fire of life, others dim and guttering] - I love beeswax notes and was excited to try a perfume that I'd read is the perfect epitome of a lit beeswax candle. It's a honeyed beeswax with an unmistakable candle-ness to it even though I don't smell any smoke. It's an extremely atmospheric scent and one that is very situational for me, not for daily wear. I especially love it for Good Friday.
The Little Owl [Tonka bean and vetiver with brown sandalwood, oak bark, almond, and beeswax] - Not going to lie; I was completely suckered in by the cuteness of the name and concept. This scent feels extremely Nui Cobalt-ish: woodsy but also cuddly, featuring honey + almond (like Silver Fox, Chionophilia, and so on) and also some earthier notes, and the beeswax is strong. This is absolutely going to be a fall perfume for me.

Miscellaneous

Baobhan Sith [Grapefruit, white tea, apple blossom and ginger] - I'm not really one for ginger-heavy scents, and somehow my skin always seems to amp ginger notes even if, as in this one, they're last on the list. (Isn't that always the way?) This one doesn't go on with too much ginger, but even just fifteen minutes later it becomes primarily ginger on me, backed with the astringency of acidic grapefruit citrus and white tea leaves. I really love apple blossom but I don't get much if any here; it's overwhelmed by the more assertive notes. Another half hour later, Baobhan Sith is actually nearly gone (or perhaps I just grow anosmic to it?). Meanwhile, at that stage, Husband tells me he can still smell it (so yeah, I've probably just gone anosmic), and that it reminds him of the lime oil in the furniture wax he uses - and he says he quite likes this perfume on me. Overall, it's a lovely idea, and I still think a white tea + apple blossom scent would be just fabulous but this is not it for me.
Bliss in the Pumpkin Patch [There's all manner of shenanigans in this year's pumpkin patch! Pumpkin'ized hybrids of GC BPAL scents abound! BLISS: A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate.] - Oddly enough, I don't actually get milk chocolate; I get cinnamon and espresso over a creamy, foody pumpkin - all told, a bit too gourmand for me, but it was tremendous fun to try. (Less fun: the cocoa solids had separated from the oil, which also left unappealing chocolatey smears on my wrists that I later had to go wash off.)
Lust [Uncontrollable passion and insatiable sexual desire: red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang and myrrh] - This combination of red musk, patch, and myrrh smells to me a lot like dragon's blood. Husband says he likes this one but wouldn't wear it himself; meanwhile it's very very not for me and I didn't bother skin-testing it, red musk and patch being two of my death notes.
Vasilissa [Creamy skin musk and blushing pink musk with soft sandalwood, white amber, dutiful myrrh, and star jasmine] - My immediate response: "Ooh, pretty!" And even Husband graced it with a "yeah, that's nice." A dainty, feminine, slightly floral but mostly pink sandalwood scent with just enough resin and earthy myrrh underneath to ground it.

Personally...

I absolutely positively cannot do without Drow Yoga Instructor and Mouse's Sad and Long Tale. Other BPAL favorites include A Place of Seeing and Vasilissa, and probably also The Little Owl (we'll see how much I reach for it in autumn). I'm sad that most of the floral ones I tried don't really work for me. I can also commend BPAL for their pretty and often very clever approach to gauzy, lavender-forward scents.
Thank you to everyone who sold or gifted me these samples and decants!
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2023.06.06 04:39 booobieross Olaplex vs Redkin

Looking for a new shampoo and conditioner for some bleach damaged hair that has been falling out at the root. Praying for some serious growth and fast. Willing to spend this money to get my hair looking long & healthy again. Drop your recommendations please. Im hispanic with wavy, thick hair
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2023.06.06 04:20 flAvakin CROWN ITEMS

DEAR AVAKIN:
Originally I thought crown items were being introduced so we could get vintage game items for real money. I'm really disappointed that it's rarely the case. PLEASE CONSIDER a few of these items from the past?
The Bob hairstyle The Blair colour change hair The Black n white bunny slippers I dont know the name but it looks like a British flat cap hat or even one similar The stripey toy bunny petkin with floppy ears The Vosho dance Doll house decoration The glass decanter set decoration The union jack teapot set furnishing
I'd also like to see some fairy lights for night scenes: like a string of lights between posts like that balloon decoration
I'd like to see a sofa with different sitting options, so we can lounge or lay on sofas. And if it's a 2 seater or more sofa, each seat should have a different pose so we don't just look like clones.
Some new swimming moves too? That old frog kick is kinda boring now.
Some hug poses that don't keep unhugging and rehugging. Just stays in a hug position, that would be nice.
More colours of the 'laced up white leg wraps'
More scarves
More cour change accessories
Thanks for considering 😉😃
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2023.06.06 04:12 NoConsideration1152 Long lasting protective hairstyles on white girl?

I need some help~ I am a Caucasian girl with curly, fine , veeery frizzy and dry hair, and sometimes they become unmanageable. Especially in summer and in very high humidity places (where im living now), the top part of my hair gets all frizzy and curly and whichever way i try to put it up it always look messy and small curls are sticking out, so all the “vicking” braid hairstyles dont work on me. I have long thought about getting some kind of braids that start from my scalp (imagine cornrows), that would last me a month or so, so that i can leave em there and oil them when needed; however i dont seem to find any hairstyles for white ppl that are not appropriating and/or damaging. Could somebody help?✨
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2023.06.06 04:12 angrypissbaby AITA if I tell my friend that she can't prevent someone from getting a piercing because of her own insecurities?

Lily(16F) and Zoe(16F) have been my friends for ages now. For context, Zoe and Lily both have similar haircuts and brown curly hair. Lily doesn't like that they keep getting compared appearance-wise because she struggles with identity issues, so I comfort her but am unsure about bringing up to her how the situation is unfair for Zoe.
To the actual topic now, recently, we all went to the local mall together. Inside, Zoe and Lily were excitedly talking about what piercings they were planning on getting next. Zoe wants a septum which is the main cause of 'conflict' in this situation.
We entered a store, and Zoe began looking at facial jewellery. I was walking around with Lily and when we made it back to Zoe she said that she wanted to get a septum piercing. I was very supportive of this and asked her if she was okay because she suddenly became very reserved and quiet. She says that it’s her identity issues acting up again and Zoe comes back from looking at jewellery with a packet of fake piercings. To cheer Lily up I start talking about how we can all try on piercings together in the bathrooms and she lit up at that.
In the bathrooms, we tried on piercings and Zoe put one of the rings in her nose to see what it would look like and it genuinely looked really good on her, but Lily kept saying "I think a stud would look better" or "I don't think it suits you" Just to talk her out of getting it since her having the same piercing would make her feel bad.
Anyways, things continue as normal after, we went back to my place to hang out and they both ended up sleeping-over with Zoe having to leave early the next morning for work. It's just me and Lily now, we play games for a while before we start talking about random shit, and I carefully bring up the septum situation. She says that she wants to tell Zoe not to get it because it'll make her feel very insecure and unsure of herself as they get told they look similar already. I tell her that they really don't look the same at all, and that the only similar thing is the colour of their hair (they really don't look the same or have the same haircut, Zoe's curls are a lot tighter than Lily's) and people are being shallow if they say that.
I also carefully say that you can’t control what someone else does to their body, if Zoe wants to get a septum piercing then she can get one and that it's kind of unfair to put her identity issues onto her shoulders because it's not Zoe's fault that she feels that way.
I don't know if I was being a massive asshole towards Lily for saying that or if I should've just left it and let her tell Zoe not to get it, but Zoe overthinks situations like this due to past friendships, so I don't want to worry her.
It's a difficult situation all round. I know this might read as an immature argument because we’re all teens, but it wasn’t emotionally charged at all.
Am I the asshole? Is anyone the asshole? Idk.
submitted by angrypissbaby to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 04:09 NoConsideration1152 Long lasting protective hairstyles on white girl?

I need some help~ I am a Caucasian girl with curly, fine , veeery frizzy and dry hair, and sometimes they become unmanageable. Especially in summer and in very high humidity places (where im living now), the top part of my hair gets all frizzy and curly and whichever way i try to put it up it always look messy and small curls are sticking out, so all the “vicking” braid hairstyles dont work on me. I have long thought about getting some kind of braids that start from my scalp (imagine cornrows), that would last me a month or so, so that i can leave em there and oil them when needed; however i dont seem to find any hairstyles for white ppl that are not appropriating and/or damaging. Could somebody help?✨
submitted by NoConsideration1152 to braids [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 04:06 cali0223 Need help on navigating a new relationship after my narc ex

Hey guys,
Sorry for the long ramble.
I (29f) am a year out of the most horrific relationshit/situationship with a narc who was just absolutely horrible to me. He was a successful businessman who cheated on me for the millionth time with someone who ended up being somewhat known in the entertainment industry and he left me for her in a heartbeat and never looked back. It was a horrible time in my life but the years of abuse were finally over.
So now to the good part aka life after the narc. So last month I met the man (29m) of my absolute dreams! I can’t tell you how thankful I am to have met him and I feel like everything I went through was worth it because it led me to cross paths with him. I kid you not I was bitter for the past year and then one day I had this epiphany where I just accepted everything and embraced moving on and then I literally met this guy an hour later while on vacation. It was like I was finally ready to receive and then it happened 😍
Anyways we live in different countries and we are both very busy business owners (I work 60+ hours a week and him even more) and his company is very successful and growing very rapidly so it’s hard for him to keep up and he’s expressed that to me a lot. We were talking everyday and FaceTiming and he was making all these plans with me. He even booked tickets to my country to come support me at an event I’m working at next month and he really lives by showing his intentions through actions versus just telling me what I want to hear which means so much to me coming from a relationship that was saturated in future faking and deceit. So he’s going on a work trip in another country in a few days and I know he has been super busy but it’s making me feel paranoid. We went from talking everyday to now going on 3 days where I haven’t heard from him. I know he is alive because one of his colleagues tagged him in a picture of him at a work event. Yes I was investigating lol. I get being busy and I can’t emphasize enough how busy he really is but I don’t want to excuse that either after what I went through with my narc ex. My ex used to tell me he was gonna be super busy with work and then he would literally ghost me for days only for me to find out he was flying women in to cheat on me. So I think this is making me so paranoid because of my past. I was so neglected my entire relationship that now I don’t know what is normal anymore. We’ve only known each other a month so I don’t want to confront him about this and scare him away by looking too needy, but it’s just strange to me to go from talking every day and FaceTiming and all this stuff to silence. I know he isn’t living a double life or anything like that and he hasn’t been in a relationship in a few years because he was starting his business so I know I’m not a rebound or anything. His friends and family and colleagues already know all about me and I’m supposed to go to his country in a few months where I will meet all of them. And he has expressed his life goals and that he wants marriage and kids in the next few years and he asked recently if we could be exclusive during this time apart until he visits and we can decide how we want to move forward together during his visit which I love and feel the same.
Am I overthinking this? The last time we talked he was being his usual sweet self and talking about our plans and how he misses me. I know the relationship is new but I’m so paranoid because of my asshole ex. In true narc fashion he was telling me how much he loved me and couldn’t wait to marry me and have kids just days before he dumped me out of the blue and never looked back. So now I’m afraid that it could happen again or that I’m being love bombed but our connection feels so real and he is such a genuinely good person that does so much for his community so it’s really hard to imagine him being a bad guy. His actions have just completely said otherwise I’m just paranoid.
I do want to talk to him about my past to explain why certain things are more important to me in a relationship but I don’t want to cause problems this early because of my baggage. I really really like this one and I don’t want to screw it up over my paranoia.
So my question is: 1. Am I being paranoid since this is so new? 2. How often do you talk to your partner in the beginning stages of a new relationship? 3. How do you overcome unlearning bad mindsets after dealing with years of narc abuse?
Thank you so much💜
Also just a side note for anyone thinking they will never get through this… I never ever ever thought I would get over the pain and abandonment of my final discard after years of emotional abuse and neglect but I can genuinely say I am so so happy and I’m so thankful he dumped me for the final time in the worst way because it sealed the lid on any chance of ever reconnecting and now I can live a life free of trauma. I can’t stress enough how depressed I was though. I left the state and moved back in with my mom so that I didn’t have to be in our city and be reminded of him. I lost 30 pounds and I wouldn’t eat for days, I couldn’t drive half the time because my mental breakdowns were so extreme that I would get dizzy and lose vision, I had to be hospitalized and diagnosed with an anxiety disorder because the abuse he put me through gave me panic attacks all the time, I developed a horrible rash on my arms and butt(embarrassing I know) that I am still trying to get rid of years later, my hair thinned, my skin got horrible and I had to go to the dentist over a tooth ache because I was stressing so much that I was grinding my teeth and got a horrible infection and couldn’t chew my food.
And now, I love my life and am so angry that he made me want to be done with it all. All that to say, if I can recover from that bullshit, please don’t give up. You can get through this. Life is so beautiful and limitless after crawling out of the grave that the narc digs for us. Don’t sink with their ship. Just swim, crawl, walk, run, fly and even if it’s at 1 mph just keep moving!
TLD How often do you guys talk to your new partners after recovering from narc abuse and neglect? And how do you prevent sabotaging your new relationship due to the paranoia and trust issues you’ve developed from your previous relationship with your narc ex? TIA!
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2023.06.06 04:01 Ephemeral-Wizard 35 [M4F] #Wilmington DE - Professional Looking for Suckretary

Married professional looking for ongoing mouth relief after a stressful day. Unable to host but open to working from your place while you're under my desk pleasuring me during a work call.
6'3 and about 210 lbs here. Pretty attractive, curly hair, beard. Women only.
submitted by Ephemeral-Wizard to AgeGapPersonals [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:54 Capybara1994 Well groomed beard styles

Well groomed beard styles
Ok, so I haven’t had a beard in a while. I do like a thick very groomed 5 o clock and a thick mustache with the area below lip where mustache meets beard clean. I want to grow a beard again. I have for last few years gotten into keeping hair very well groomed which I didn’t care about before. I would like to get a very uniform sharp beard but want a bigger style. Unsure on what to do exactly, I seen some such as these. Wondering any others people may think of or if anyone could direct me to any guides or videos on how to get beards like this. I’m a pasty white guy with blonde hair and red beard, round face. I just am every other day making sure the line of “beard” is very sharp. Going back to beard from mustache last few years. What are those types of razors that you see that make people look very well groomed typically for black men and Latino men? Something like that but just more full but very well defined. Mostly interested in this one I saw in article called “The Razor-Sharp” which I can’t find other places unsure if it’s an actual beard style. Thanks friends. Last photo is me of course.
submitted by Capybara1994 to beards [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:52 reagantrex 25 [M4F] Orlando, Florida - Friends or Something More

Hello everyone! I got over my skepticism and decided to post because you never know.
I’m brazilian living in US. I do speak Portuguese and was raised there until 17y.o.
I enjoy talking, flirting, banter, and I’d say I’m witty. But I also enjoy and actively engage in deep conversations. Keeping the conversation flowing has never been difficult to me.
I love music and nearly every genre, EDM is my favorite but trust me I love to listen to so much I couldn’t even list them all.
My main interest atm are chess, videogames, anime, boxing, and the gym. I am often fascinated when shown new things so please do tell me about your passions and hobbies. Other smaller hobbies include: roller skating, long boarding, swimming, reading, singing, piano. I like a lot of things.
My looks: I have hazel eyes, brown medium curly hair with shaved sides, kept beard & thick eyebrows, 6ft, big build, 3 tattoos, and I can’t not sound conceited when I say this but everyone I know agrees I’m fairly attractive.
Requirements: no strongly religious individuals. I respect your religion but we won’t get along very well. It’s fine if you enjoy practicing though as long as you’re not expecting that as something we’ll have in common.
Friends: I’d like to clarify that for friends I don’t care about your gender, age, or what you look like.
Something more: around my age, slightly younger, or quite older is fine. I just need a certain level of mindset and maturity. As far as looks go, I am only interested in your character and don’t have a preference on how you look - skinny, average, chubby, tall, short, hairstyle, ethnicity, etc, it does not matter. If you have a good head on your shoulders and can entertain a conversation you’re good to go.
Can you tell I like talking? Haha
submitted by reagantrex to r4r [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:50 SnooDogs1704 Is this a messed up though to have?

I think my girlfriend is the most attractive person in the world. Fair skin, curly shoulder length red hair with curly bangs, hazel eyes, INSANE body. I cant get enough of her.
We like to film ourselves getting intimate sometimes and whenever I view one of the videos, I think to myself, “I wish I was allowed to show off how hot she is to the world”. Of course, I wouldn’t do it because I respect and love her deeply and care for her privacy, BUT if she gave me the green light I don’t think I would hesitate.
I would love to see the reactions to how sexy she is!! Am I alone on this? Is this considered a kink? Lol
submitted by SnooDogs1704 to sex [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:46 Chill_flyguy 43 [M4F] #Bay Area - handsome white dad seeks younger inexperienced or virgin female finally ready for her first time.

Before you read my ad completely and waste your time, if you are a size queen then you can check out another post.
If you are still here maybe what I say will intrigue you! I am looking for unique types of women who are in a dry spell or not much sexual experience….perhaps you are a virgin looking for her first time? 🍒🍒Unique as is in shy, awkward, introverted, insecure, small breasts, uneven breasts, inverted nipples, hirsute or very hairy, very short, or thick or very thin etc. Basically I’m looking for a woman who might feel that no one would enjoy intimacy with them. Imperfectly Perfect ;)
Why? Because I think sex should be fun and exciting and no one should be in their head so much worrying that they cannot enjoy having sex with someone else. If it also makes you feel more comfortable we could have the lights low.
So if you are a supermodel who has a lot of sex, you are NOT what I am looking for. On the other hand if you have a good attitude and chill personality and also just want mutual sexual satisfaction and are as described above or maybe something similar then by all means hit me up. Plus you know those toys and fingers just aren’t cutting it anymore.
I’m easy on the eyes, tall, few extra pounds but doesn’t show, short brown hair, light brown eyes, no facial hair, all my teeth, excellent personal hygiene, no drugs or STIs and circumcised small-average equipment below the belt. Safe Play only!! I am in town visiting friends/family so I can travel but cannot host
I am NOT interested in males or females looking for compensation.
PLEASE only reply if you are interested in eventually meeting. One word replies like “Hey” or “Hi” and/or one line sentences will most likely be ignored.
submitted by Chill_flyguy to AgeGapPersonals [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:43 ohbagelmybin Advice for a curly hair noob?

I've been having trouble finding/understanding how to care for my curly hair for years now. I ended up cutting all of my hair off to try to ease the hassle of it but now 7 ish months later its grown back and this time I want to learn how to care for it. I'm honestly looking for advice, no matter what it is for curly hair in general. I have no clue what to look for in hair care products, and seeing all the products on shelves in stores seems a bit overwhelming. I guess I'm just looking for health in my hair, I don't have to have "perfect" curls just something that is healthy. Does anyone know where I can start, or any advice for someone new to the curly hair ways. (Btw for background, I'm mixed with white and black, and sadly my mother hasn't known how to/showed me ways to care for my hair specifically, and often would take me to salon' to have it "managed".)
submitted by ohbagelmybin to curlyhair [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:43 SubstantialBite788 The Fiend in the Glade

In 1965 I was twelve years old.
My father made the news for killing my mother. He was certain that she had been cheating on him while he was at work, but I don’t see how that was even possible. My mom and I never got any sleep, for my father worked third shift and he would call home every chance he got. If she didn’t answer, she would get punished when he got home. One morning he took it too far. I was already at school when my neighbor came and picked me up during math class. He told me that my father was in jail and that my mother was about to die. There was no subtlety in those days, no sugar-coating the truth. You swallowed it down whole and raw.
I was at my mother’s side when she finally breathed her last. Her face was unrecognizable, swathed in bruises and lacerations. She was unconscious. There were no last words, no ‘I Love You’, no response to my wailing, nothing but a few last gasps of air.
The ‘best interest of the child’ was an alien principle to the inhabitants of the small town I grew up in. Convenience- that’s what mattered. The easiest place to put me was with my grandfather, the father of my father, and there wasn’t much difference between the two. The genetic code that instills in another human being a lack of empathy was prevalent on this side of my family. I had to endure my grandfather blaming my mother for her own death.
“She brought it on herself. If she would have just minded her manners,” he would often say. If it wasn’t that, it was something else derogatory about my mother. There was a snide remark every day. He would throw it in my face. He hated me because I looked less like his son, and more like my mother. With some strange morbid logic applied, I believe he also blamed me. If it wasn’t for me, his son would not be in jail.
I hated the man and I felt that one day it was going to get violent. I may have only been twelve, but Sarge, as he made me call him, was in his eighties and I could have easily pounded the man into oblivion if I really wanted to, and of course, I really wanted to. Sarge- why? Because he said he was a Sergeant in World War I, but I didn’t believe it. I never saw any evidence of that nor seen any photos. If he had been in the Great War, wouldn’t there be something hanging on the wall or on his fireplace mantle? No, he was a liar like my father, wrapped up in a make-believe world, far from the truth of his pitiful reality.
I spent as little time as possible in that house. Most of my days were spent down the road on Mr. Baker’s property, hunting small game like rabbits, dove, and squirrels with my 22-caliber rifle. Mr. Baker was a nice man and I wished I could have lived with him. He didn’t mind me hunting on his land, as long as I stayed away from the forest on the other side of his property. He claimed that there was something not right in those woods. Often, his dog Dolly, a Golden Retriever with an inexhaustible amount of energy, would accompany me on my hunting excursions.
I often came home empty-handed, but there were those days where I became obsessed. I couldn’t leave the field without a quarry, but more importantly, I didn’t want to go back home to that hateful old man. Sometimes, I imagined he was in my sights, that he was the hunted, and I the hunter.
Dolly was not an obedient dog. On some occasions I loved having her around to flush out the underbrush. Other times, she was a colossal pain. I would hunt up to the fence line that split Mr. Baker’s property from the much-maligned forbidden forest he often warned me against. One late afternoon, with nothing shot or killed, I got desperate, and climbed over the barbed-wire fence and trekked down the hill to a patch of bamboo growing by a small dried out streambed. I crossed over to a thick forest of trees, grass, and honeysuckle, abuzz with life, the sounds of insects slicing the air and rodents plowing through the undergrowth. I knew I had found the perfect spot. I spied a little rabbit gnawing on some clover. I slowly pulled my gun up, aiming, ready to shoot, and then Dolly came crashing through like a bulldozer through a flowerbed. The rabbit scurried away, but kept its course straight. I made a hasty, but careful pursuit, trying to be quick but ready to stop and hold still when the opportunity presented itself.
“Damn dog,” I murmured to myself.
“Damn dog,” something ahead repeated.
“Who’s there?” I inquired.
There was nothing but silence. Dolly had stopped about ten feet east from me, refusing to move any further. It seemed darker than normal in this area of the woods. Up ahead was a circle of Juniper trees, and beyond that a glade, an opening in the middle, devoid of life.
The rabbit I was pursuing appeared near the glade. Instinctively I begin to resume my hunt, absorbed in the moment, casually brushing aside the voice I had imagined. The rabbit stopped, I raised my gun, and as I went to squeeze the trigger, I saw the rabbit move into the glade and fall to its side. It’s legs frantically kicking about, as if something had a hold of it and it was struggling for life. Then it stopped, lifeless and staring out of one exposed black eye into the darkness of eternity. I noticed that it wasn’t the only carcass lying about. There were birds, squirrels, and other rabbits strewn across the open landscape. Some skeletal, others partially rotted, and some, like my rabbit, fresh and recently deceased. The smell was thick with putrid, decaying corpses.
Dolly saw the easy prey, her passion overriding her instinct and fear, leapt into the glade and fell on her side, just as the rabbit had done. She began kicking and yelping. Her cries were pitiful, a sad song for help I couldn’t resist. She wasn’t dead yet. Maybe I still had a chance. I crawled up to the edge of the glade, reached in, and grabbed her by the paw. My hand felt icy and stiff, the blood flowing through the veins in my hand felt like powdered glass. I pulled with all my strength.
“Timmy?”
I looked up to see my mother standing in the middle of the glade, beautiful and young, not at all like I had ever seen her in my own young life. She was a teenager, with a wistful smile, and a visible yearning in her eyes, the vision of which spoke to my soul that she missed me, that she wanted me to come to her in the glade. I was ready and willing, leaning more towards her and loosening my grip on Dolly. I felt a comforting warmness in my stomach, and an urge to bring solace to my lonely forsaken mother.
At that very moment a deer sprinted into the glade and stumbled to the ground. Out of nowhere an apple tree had appeared, with fallen apples scattered in abundance around the trunk. It was a vision, a lure dangled by a hunter, a hunter other than me, one with a more mysterious and a much more effective weapon.
I came out of my daze and yanked as hard as I could, pulling Dolly and myself from the invisible web we were entangled in. A part of the earth in the glade opened up like a trap door, and pouncing out like a spider was a creature like a man, crawling on all fours, with two small claw-like appendages extending out from its torso. It had dark skin with standing hair all over its body, like a tarantula. Its face looked human, but with sharp teeth and four red gelatinous eyes.
It would stand like a human and then crawl like a spider. It seemed confused and moved in quick sporadic motions. There was more than enough meat to choose from, but from its gestures I gathered it favored living meat, with blood still circulating. It was looking at the deer, but inching towards me. It was deciding between the easy already provided food, or the much more tastier living food- me.
The creature was walking backwards. Every now and then it would quickly turn its head, peek, and make sure I was still there, all the while backing up towards me. I felt around for my rifle, found it and pulled it up to my shoulder. The creature turned, with outstretched arms and appendages, leapt towards me. I pulled the trigger. One red eye exploded and the creature shrieked and fell outside of the glade. It writhed in pain as if the air outside of the glade was toxic.
I got up and ran away from the glade, calling Dolly after me. She raced past me up the hill and under the barbed wire fence. I glanced back as I was running. I saw the earthen door fall shut. The creature had survived.
I didn’t go hunting, or even go outside, for a few months. I was willing to take the abuse of my grandfather. Many times, I imagined taking Sarge down to the glade and pushing him inside, but his time was already limited. I don’t know how he lived as long as he did, smoking three packs of cigarettes a day. It seems that stubborn evil folk live longer than the rest of us.
Over time temptation got the better of me. I eventually made my way back down to the glade. I missed my mother. It was a calculated risk. I had my gun and if I kept my distance, I would be safe. On several occasions I got to see the vision of my young mother, but in time they became shorter in duration. The creature knew I had figured out its game and would no longer reward me with anymore visions. On the next to the last visit there were no apparitions of my mother. I waited, but nothing. The earthen door lifted. I saw three red eyes peering from the ground.
“I will eat you one day damn dog.”
My last visit to that devilish grotto reveled that the creature had moved on. There was no glade, no empty land, nor an opening in the canopy. The spot was filled with invasive honeysuckle, thick with life and the pleasant aroma of flowers, and yet, it saddened me, because the most beautiful flower of all was gone. Amidst the violence and death, was the forlorn life of my mother.
I am now seventy years old, decrepit and weak, without the use of my legs. Diabetes and heart disease are killing me, but there is another death nearby, one less indifferent and relishing the suffering I am now enduring. It is prolonging my passing, giving me agony and yet giving me hope. I know that the fiend has found me again. The air feels suffocating in my room. The more my heart pumps, the more the circulating blood causes me agonizing pain. I suffer, but I endure because for the last several nights I have seen an apparition of my mother, the dying flower in the middle of the glade.
submitted by SubstantialBite788 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:43 ShadowDragon88 I've Been Reincarnated as a Bunny Girl?! Ch. 5

Hey there, readers! Here's chapter five for your reading pleasure! Please consider leaving a comment or review as those really do just pick me right up!
I've Been Reincarnated as a Bunny Girl?! (Chapter 5)
by
ShadowDragon88
A fine drizzle was coming down on the town of Starlight Rose. A familiar wolf-kin beasta in red robes that appeared to be shimmering despite the cloudy gloom of the day was walking along the main road. In his right hand, he held a long polished oak staff, topped with a red glowing gemstone the size of his fist. In his left hand, held away from his body, was a tan leather satchel, the drawstring tied in a knot. It appeared full, and seemed to shudder and wriggle. Felixin smiled and nodded to passing villagers.

"Hey there, Felixin," came the rumbling voice of Earl Shatterknuckle. The blonde dwarf, presently wearing just simple brown leather trousers, fell in step beside his taller friend. Felixin looked down at the dwarf, whose smaller frame was bulging with muscles, with blue and gold glowing tattoos tracing intricate spider-web-like symbols across his chest and arms, smiling back.

"Good day to you, Earl," the wolf said. There was a spitting-chittering sound coming from the bag, making Felixin pause and frown before giving the satchel a good whack with his magical staff. "Quiet, you!" he hissed at it.

"Caught yourself another evil spirit, eh?" Earl said with a smirk.

"Oh yes, and this one was quite the nasty piece of work. I'm on my way back to my lab to properly dispose of it. I think it's from some destroyed remnant of Eld technology, one of the ones that gained sentience, or at least some spiritual semblance to it," Felixin said as he gave the bag another whack when it started to make some electronic beeping sounds.

"Oh?" Earl asked, curious. "I remember more than once we had some nasty run-ins with Eld-tech back when we were adventurers."

"I remember you and Melthi being the ones to turn the blasted machines on, both times when cautioned not to," Felixin said pointedly, making the dwarf chuckle.

"What can I say? We're both curious by nature!"

"Yes, that's one word for it," Felixin said with a smile, remembering his adventuring days and the party of friends he would regularly travel with. "Anyways. For some reason, about six years ago, they suddenly became much more prevalent. Thankfully, their numbers have been dropping back down over the years."

"What makes you think this one is from Eld tech?"

"It kept saying 'Does not compute!' over and over again, while also identifying some kind of rabbit threat." Felixin's mood seemed to shift and his ears laid back on his head, while his tail dipped, almost long enough to drag on the ground behind him. "And when it mentioned rabbits, it made me think of my little princess."

Earl rolled his eyes as he reached up and clapped the town wizard on the back. "Ah, Kiana'll be back to visit before you know it."

"I know... it's just, one minute she was this little delicate baby girl, and the next minute, she was this amazing young woman, all ready to up and go out."

"Didn't Kiana kick down a couple of brick walls when she was a baby?" Earl asked, scratching his head. Felixin waved a dismissive paw at that.

"Pure coincidences. Those walls were clearly unsound and improperly constructed, so much so that when she was having one of her tantrums just a little punch or kick was enough to send them tumbling down. We're lucky she wasn't hurt or scared, just confused and curious more than anything. Anyways, I just get so worried when I think of her, out there on the open road. Just so... vulnerable. Thankfully I made sure to instill in her a proper sense of caution." Earl snorted at that.

Meanwhile...

Kiana let out a roar of fury as her trusted tetsubo connected with the raised steel shield of the bandit before her. The metal dented and warped just as the bandit, shield and all, became airborne. They traveled in an arc straight towards a stone tower connected to an old run-down fort the bandits had holed up in. The screaming man smashed into the top of the tower, crumbling it, his screams instantly going silent.

"Fire!" Kiana heard a deep voice shout. There were several blasts and, thanks to Kiana's speed, she watched as five cannonballs headed in her direction. To the ordinary person, the black metallic spheres were probably nearly impossible to follow. To Kiana, it looked as though they were moving incredibly slow. She simply stepped aside from four of them, letting them explode into the nearby hillside. As the fifth one hurtled her way, she crouched slightly, raising her tetsubo like a baseball bat. She swung and smacked the cannonball, her tetsubo making a loud DING, and sent it flying right back where it had come from. The two bandits manning the cannon were obliterated along with the weapon itself, as well as a good chunk of the fort wall.

"She's some kind of demon!" one of the bandits cried. The man, really more of a boy, no older than Kiana, leapt down from the fort wall onto a carriage they had recently stolen from some traveling aristocrats. He then leapt onto the ground and sprinted out into the forest, stripping off the black cloak with the red eye in the center.

"DAMMIT!" the bandit leader cursed, pulling off his tricorn hat and dabbing his bald sweaty head with a handkerchief. While the remaining men were busy barring the windows or reloading and firing the cannons, he was gnashing his teeth. After a moment's hesitation, he pointed to a nearby subordinate. "You! Follow me. We'll unleash the troll on her."

The other bandit paled, audibly gulping. "Th-the troll? Are you sure th-that's wise?" Just as he finished asking that, another cannonball destroyed another cannon, making the entire structure shudder.

"We don't have any other options. Hopefully, after it kills her, it'll be injured enough for us to finish it off... or the other way around if she kills it." The other bandit grimaced at the options laid before them, but nodded solemnly. Outside, Kiana smacked another cannonball back at the cannon that fired it, being careful not to send it flying towards the base of the tower. According to one of the kidnapped merchants that had managed to escape and make it all the way to town, the cells where the bandits were holding their ransom victims were all on the ground floor. Kiana stopped when she heard a loud guttural roar, followed by a rapid series of loud BOOMs. Bandits ran by the windows and open holes of the fort, while the front gate slowly opened.

Out stumbled a massive creature. Its flesh was a dark brown, and had a texture not unlike tree bark. Its long arms and legs were thicker than the old oak trees in the forest near Starlight Rose. Its gnarled hands, with thick thorn-like protrusions sticking from the knuckles, balled into fists, fists that were as big as Kiana was tall. Its barrel-chest heaved, with white criss-crossing scars in its bark-flesh. It didn't have much in the way of a neck, and its head looked just like a tree stump, complete with root-like tendrils wriggling back and forth. It's mouth was partially concealed by the tendrils, until it reared back and opened its gaping maw, revealing rows of broken yellow teeth, to let out a bellow that shook the ground. From the top of its head grew two slightly spiraling branch-like horns.

"These idiots somehow managed to get a forest troll?" Kiana asked out loud, a smirk appearing on her face. "And this was only a gold-ranked quest? Something tells me I'm in for a sweet bonus."

The beast stopped as its knot-like eyes, of which there were at least seven, caught sight of the bunny girl. Up above from the second story windows and holes and from on the roof, the remaining bandits, many of them injured, looked down. Most were smirking, some of the more foolish ones shouted out taunts. The bandit leader stood there, looking grim-faced, but taking some satisfaction in knowing that despite their losses today, the annoying source of their problems was about to end, one way or another.

Kiana stuck the end of her tetsubo into the dirt, large and surprisingly quick thudding steps shaking the ground. The beast was lumbering towards Kiana, who didn't look the least bit afraid. While not intelligent enough to be truly sentient, the troll did have enough sense to know that its prey should be running. And the fact that it was just calmly standing there, staring at it, only angered it further. With a final roar, the forest troll charged forward. It balled up a massive fist, and swung straight for Kiana. Kiana swung her own fist, the two colliding.

There was a very loud, sickening crunch and pop. The bandits looked down in shock and horror as where the now screaming troll's fist and forearm had been, there was a bloody and jagged stump that ended just above the right elbow. The troll screeched and lunged at Kiana, hoping to impale her on its horns. But the bunny girl simply kicked, knocking the head clean off the rest of its body. The head bounced off a tree and rolled for a bit, settling in the dirt, a look of surprise on the stump-like face. The rest of the body tumbled over three times before coming to a rest near the make-shift stables, where the carriages and horses of the abducted nobles were kept. Kiana looked back up at the fort, making the majority of the bandits shrink back and shudder. A few of them began to wave white tablecloths hastily tied to sticks and tree branches.

A short time later the bandits, now in shackles, were being marched to the mechanical cart as the local sheriff and his deputies led them. Except for the severely injured ones, who were shackled to stretchers and loaded up into a seperate mechanical carriage. Kiana looked on as bodies were checked for possible survivors, there being very few to find, as the merchants and a few nobles were led by deputies out from the fort. Kiana smiled at them and nodded to their looks of awe, some of them having gotten a good look at the show of force the petite bunny girl had demonstrated. Ignoring the ones who shrank back away from her in fright, Kiana spotted the sheriff, a large older man in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper close-cropped hair and a matching mustache. He was wearing the classic green cloak, directing his deputies. He turned to face her as she approached.

"I think that's all cleared up," Kiana said, her voice chipper, belaying the fact she had a smattering of blood and gore staining her fur.

"I'd have to agree with you, young lady," Sheriff Tonsol said, his voice even. In truth, he had tried to avoid enlisting the aid of any adventurers until pressure from various merchants and nobility forced his hand. And even then he had expected it to involve a large party and, more than likely, some lives lost from the hostages. He was a little surprised when the girl reached into her satchel to produce a clipboard with a form on it, as well as an ink pen.

"In that case, would you mind signing this form indicating that I completed the job satisfactorily?" Tonsol looked at the form for a minute, and then his mouth curved upwards. He let out a chuckle and signed his name on the indicated line, writing in the date as well.

"Satisfactorily is putting it lightly, miss," he said, handing the clipboard and pen back to the bunny girl. "I had no idea that they had a forest troll in their possession. I went ahead and bumped up the reward."

"Oh wow, thank you, sir!" Kiana said, looking excited.

Tonsol smiled, something his deputies claimed to be a rare sight to behold. "Well, you earned it. I'm just glad you were able to get them to surrender without harming any hostages. Well, without them harming any more than the ones they did last time someone came out here to free them."

"I'm glad I could help!" Kiana said, bowing a little. "Now, I'm going to head back into town." She spread her arms wide and indicated to herself. "I'm really in need of a bath at this point."

"If you don't mind waiting a minute, you can ride back to town with us. It's faster than walking."

"Oh, thanks for the offer, but I'm good." Kiana waved, before jogging back to where she'd left her tetsubo and pack, Mirabelle coiled around it protectively. She grabbed the items up, quickly looking through the travel pack to make sure she still had everything, and nodded to herself, satisfied. She slipped the pack onto her back, then scooped her pet snake into her arms, and started to jog down the road in the direction of the town of Hengecliffe. Picking up speed, she rapidly became a blur, and in just a few seconds she was coming to a sliding stop in front of the town gates, startling a couple of bored-looking guards.

She greeted them and let Mirabelle down before they let her inside. They stared at the snake with the big pink ribbon around its neck slithering obediently behind the bunny girl. She stopped off at the local guild hall to drop off the signed paperwork and collect her now even heftier reward. She noticed a few stares in her general direction, and some unhappy grumbling from some fellow adventurers, but otherwise no one said anything.

Kiana then headed to the town inn where she still had a room for another night. Thankful again that this world had indoor plumbing, with hot water to boot, Kiana wasted no time in stripping off her gore-coated clothes, which she would wash in the laundry room down the hall, and enjoyed a nice steamy shower. She didn't have to worry about possible intruders, as Mirabelle sat coiled on the bed, ever vigilant.

"Today was a good day," Kiana said, stepping out of the shower and drying herself off, a feat that took several minutes with a towel. This left her gray and white fur all fluffed-out, which led to her brushing it out. Kiana had grown accustomed to the care and maintenance of her fur, taking pride in keeping it clean. She then donned her underwear and a cream-colored sundress from her pack, carefully putting her dirty clothes in the laundry sack in her pack. She smiled and stroked Mirabelle's head, the snake letting out a contented purr-like hiss.

"I'm going to go out and enjoy the rest of the afternoon in town. You stay here and guard the pack, okay?" she asked, slipping her mithril knuckles into her dress pockets, along with a small money pouch. Mirabelle hissed, thumping her tail on the bed in response, curling up tighter around Kiana's belongings.

"Good girl," she praised, before heading out, locking the door behind herself for good measure. Kiana smiled as she stepped out onto the paved sidewalk, carriages passing by on the street. Hengecliffe was much larger than Starlight Rose, with paved streets and even streetlights. Centrally located in a region of plains, it served as a trading hub. Kiana walked along, noticing a few men and women looking her over. Some seemed to do so with distaste, more than likely not enjoying the sight of a beasta. But most seemed to be pleasant people observing a new face.

"Well now, if my eyes are not deceiving me, it seems that an angel from the heavens has decided to grace us mere mortals with her presence." Kiana's ears twitched at the sound of the male voice. She paused and turned, looking down an alley, where a man leaning up against the side of a building stood, looking her over. He was wearing brown leather trousers, a white linen shirt, and a belt with a large buckle which, matching the large buckles on his boots, made him look a bit like a pirate. The goatee and the cutlass sheathed at his side were also not helping.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, giving Kiana a wink. Kiana rolled her eyes, and moved to keep walking, only to find a squat bald man standing in her way, grinning sinisterly. Kiana checked behind herself and saw another man, a larger one with a completely shaved head, arms crossed with a club under one arm. "Now, how about we all go somewhere more... private," the pirate-looking moron asked, giving Kiana a smug wink.

"Wow, you idiots have no idea just how badly you messed up," Kiana said, walking into the alley, the two guys following right behind her. The men chuckled. Passersby stopped when they heard three loud thuds coming from the alley, all of which made the nearby buildings shudder. They saw a bunny beasta girl walking out, brushing some dust off her sundress. She smiled and waved and continued on her way, leaving behind three broken figures. Two were lying in craters in the pavement of the alley, while the third, this one with a cutlass laying at his booted feet, was standing... his head laying all the way back in a hole in the brick wall right behind him.

Later that evening...

Kiana was sitting just outside the town walls on a hill, watching the stars come out. After sixteen years, it still mystified her to look up at the night sky, and not see any of the old constellations. She smiled as a shooting star streaked its way across the sky. Suddenly, Kiana felt a surge of energy just course through her. Her eyes faintly started to glow with the blue light, and she felt a strange pulsing in her chest. Looking around, she felt a strange magnetic pull coming from the south.

Starting as a jog, Kiana soon found herself sprinting outright across the countryside. She ran, as a blur, following the pull, her eyes gradually glowing brighter and brighter, shining with the crackling blue energy. Then, she came to a stop. She stood at the foot of a mountain, itself part of a larger range. Looking up at the mass of rock and ice, she could see broiling clouds up over it, flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the rocky and snowy peaks. With one such flash, Kiana saw something move. Something big. Kiana's glowing eyes went wide.

"Oh wooooooooow," she said, her jaw hanging open. There were rumbles as the giant coiled mass shifted. Several avalanches were caused by the serpentine body, buried under tons and tons of snow. At the very peak of the mountain, a gargantuan head rose.

"Is that a giant... cobra?" Kiana asked under her breath. Indeed, that was what the creature that seemed to dwarf the Spire appeared to be. In the light of the lightning, she saw that its scales were a deep blue, almost purple. There were stripes running down its back, but they were glowing a bright bioluminescent blue. That same glow radiated from the creature's reptilian eyes, and the inside of its hood. The same glowing blue as Kiana's eyes.

"What... are you?" Kiana asked, quietly.

I can ask the same of you, little one, a deep female voice hissed in Kiana's head. She winced and looked around. She then looked back up at the creature, her veins flooded with adrenaline. There was another flash of lightning, and in that very instant, the creature's head was bent down low, right in front of her. Kiana almost jumped back, but stopped herself. As the snake-entity looked her over with an eye that was twice as tall as she was, Kiana felt a sense of calm overtake her.

"Are you... a storm dragon? A real storm dragon?" Kiana asked, reaching out and touching the creature's cheek with her hand. It flicked out a blood red tongue, its mouth curling up a little at the corners.

That is something that little ones like to call my kind, she said. Kiana figured right then and there that this was a female.

"A monk said that... my spirit is like one of yours," Kiana said, breathlessly.

Your soulsong feels similar to one of our kind, little one, she said, turning her head and gently nuzzling the top of Kiana's head, making her ears lay flat. The storm dragon's head was almost as large as the entirety of her hometown.

"My... soulsong?" Kiana asked. The monk she had met hadn't said anything about them.

The song of your innermost being. It stands out from the loud and noisy cacophony that happens when most little ones gather together in large groups. Yours is beautiful, and a little... fluttery. The dragon gave her a wink. She reared up and opened her mouth. Electricity danced between the dragon's fangs, before she shot out a sonic boom. The raging storm above abated, the clouds dispersing, leaving only a crystal clear night sky for miles and miles around. She then turned and looked down at Kiana. The bunny girl felt the storm dragon's gaze. She felt a radiating warmth coming from her. It reminded Kiana of her mother.

It was so nice to meet you, little one. It was quite the pleasant surprise to awaken to. She let out a proud roar, and her body began to undulate. Sections of the mountain range began to crumble as large sections of mountain were crushed and smashed by the body slamming into them. The body of the dragon rose into the air, beginning to gracefully slither about. Levitating there, partially coiled, the sheer size of the storm dragon just boggled the bunny girl's mind.

"Will I see you again?" Kiana asked, feeling a little sad. She had just met this beautiful and amazing being, and already they were leaving.

Of course, little one, the mental voice in her mind chuckled warmly. I have listened to your beautiful soulsong, and I have shared my soulsong with you.

"I... I don't understand what that means," Kiana said, confused.

You will, little one, she said, you are still young, but my soulsong has resonated within you. When you stop and listen, it will become easier and easier to hear it. And thus, the bond has begun to form. In time, you shall understand. With a flick of the creature's tail, there was a flash of lightning that radiated from within the hood, and she was gone. Kiana stood there, her eyes readjusting to the dark.

"This world is so awesome," she said, a smile on her face, as she began to job back towards town. She figured that if the town gates were closed and locked, she could just jump over the wall.

Meanwhile...

The lone figure stood in the dark, staring at where the great serpent had been levitating. They were sitting on a log in a small clearing, where they had set up camp. The individual in question was polishing their armor when a gray blur had shot right past them. And then, where it had been heading, the giant serpent, an actual storm dragon, arose. They sat there in stunned silence. They knew right then and there, that it had been a sign from the gods. As they unsheathed their katana, it began to thrum with magical energy, the blade becoming engulfed in bright purple flames.

The light of the purple flames illuminated his green face, glinting off his polished tusks. "Soon, the war shall begin," said the orc, sheathing the blade and cutting off its purple light. The same purple light shone from his eyes.

Name: Kiana

Species: Beasta (Rabbit-Kin)

Age: 16

Skills: Sibling Wrangler, Babysitter, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Master Martial Arts, Brawling, Heavy Weapon Proficiency, Sarcasm Mastery, Eyerolling Mastery, Beast Taming Level 3

Class: (Official) Master-Level Dragon Monk: Storm Dragon School, Storm Dragon Hatchling.


Str: 141
Int: 12
Dex: 140
Cha: 12
Wis: 10
Con: 172
Languages: Common, Draconic

Equipment: Adventurer's Pack, Steelwood Tetsubo, Mastercraft Mithril Knuckles (x2), Rope (25 Ft.), Canteen (Full), Road Rations, Spare Clothes, Bedroll, Health Potion (x2), Books (x3)
I really hope that you enjoyed the new chapter! Thank you for reading so far!
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submitted by ShadowDragon88 to HFY [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:33 mindblowntheorem THE RING - My true ghost experience 😱

Some family friends of ours lived in a beautiful old farmhouse house, in a small country village in the UK. It was once a farmhouse, then had been a pub for a time, then converted to house by our friends. It had many original features like crooked corridors, wonky staircases, exposed wooden beams & brickwork etc....Just a generally cool but creepy old house. The house had a lot of land & our families spent most of the time outside in the huge garden, BBQ'in...The kids would play in the gardens & the adults would sit around in camping chairs, drinking, grilling & laughing into the night! 🙌
..The owner of the house was one of my dad's best friends, they were both police officers & had worked together for years & that night, it was his daughters birthday & she asked if I could sleep over, my parents agreed & arranged to pick me up the next afternoon. We did the general 11/12 year old girly sleepover stuff, makeovers, movies, chatting etc. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤣 ...I had been in this house before but never stayed the night before & whilst playing around in my friends bedroom, my eyes were IMMEDIATELY drawn to this old, wooden carved jewelry box sitting on her dressing table & I went straight over & opened it & inside was this beautiful old 18carat gold ring but it was tiny, almost like it belonged to a young child & I was fixated...It absolutely mesmerized me, the second I laid my eyes on it...I picked it up & this wave came over me, like this pulsating strange feeling (Like the drums from Jamanji but I never actually heard or saw anything)..I just felt it in my body & then suddenly, my friend came over & said 'Oh, yeah, my parents found that box in the attic when they were renovating the house...& they found that ring under one of the floor boards in there as well, it's so cool isn't it?!' ...I had this overwhelming sense of dread & for some unreason...I felt the need to steal it but I didn't, as I mentioned before, our parents were Police officers & I knew better but I could not stop thinking about this ring.
Anyway, the night is coming to an end, all the other guests including my parents have left & after a hour or so, her parents come up with her little & only sibling & they all poke their heads into our room, say goodnight & shut the door behind them & go off to bed. ...My freinds bed is against the wall but sticking out directly into the middle of the room, the door is to the left of her bed & I have a blow up bed on the right side of her bed, so my blow up bed is a lot lower down than her bed & there is a bedside table directly behind my head that goes up slightly higher than the height of her bed. ...My friend falls asleep pretty quickly & I can hear her snoring away & the house is completely silent...Her bedroom door is closed & it is completely PITCH BLACK in there... Then, I start to get that same dreaded drum feeling I had felt earlier, when holding that ring....Right in front of my eyes, the door opens but not dramatically, just creepily slowly & nothing....Then this ominous faint light, almost pulsating light, comes from the now open doorway...It's not the hallway light, it's something else, something like moonlight but that's not possible from that angle! 🤷🏼‍♀️ ...I am sat up right in this low down blow up bed, just staring at this now open, lit up doorway & then, this figure walks into the room! 😱 I knew straight away, that this was a man...This was not my friend's dad though, as he was one of my dad's best friends, around 5"7 & over 200lbs & he was the only male living in that house, there was only his wife, his two daughters & me staying that nighr...The man who walked into the room was around 6ft tall & very slim...He calmly walks through the door, past the foot of my friends bed & then STOPS suddenly, turns & looks DIRECTLY at me....I WAS FROZEN IN FEAR! 😱...What struck me the most was how much detail I can still give about his clothing & appearance...I was 12 years old at the time but I remember it like it was yesterday! ....This guy had almost cropped, tweed style trousers, almost pirate like trousers, that went to just above the calf, with a tweed style blazer but what I remember specifically, was his shirt...It was white but it had a short, upright collar, with only the very inner tips bent...It was like an old fashioned shirt, I think there's an actual name for these shirts but even as a 12 year old, I remember thinking that shirt is odd... Because my dad was a Police detective & interviewer, he would wear a suit, shirt & tie everyday & this was not a regular modern shirt with a folded collar like my dad wore...This apparition had slicked back, jet black hair & although I was aware it was a man, I couldn't properly see any facial features, apart from his eyes & I stared frozen & in horror back at him, in what felt like 10 minutes but was probably only 10 seconds....Then, I realised he wasn't looking at me...He was looking BEHIND ME! 😱
...At this moment, I had what I can only describe as the worst fear I have ever felt...It's like a primal fear & although this happened 18 years ago, I remember it & can visualize it like it happened yesterday!....12 year old realizes he's looking behind me & I do that almost movie style thing & I slowly turn my head backwards, to the left & slightly up & that's when I saw her....A little girl, PLAIN AS DAY, stood directly behind me...But 3/4 of her body was standing inside of the bedside table behind me....It was like a hologram...I could see the bedside table but I could also she her body INSIDE of it! 🤷🏼‍♀️😱 ....She was wearing a beautiful frilly, Lacey long white dress, with a dusty pink coloured bow tied around the waist...Her chest, shoulders & head were sticking out of the center top of the bedside table & she had this beautiful long curly golden hair & there was this moment, this creepy indescribable moment, where I realised these two entities were staring at eachother....Not at me & in that moment...I KNEW the ring belonged to her...This thought crossed my mind & suddenly her gaze went from him to suddenly me & I literally almost went into cardiac arrest!...That was it for me..I through the blanket over my head & zoned out....I couldn't sleep but I refused to look & I was so freaked out & panicked but too scared to run to the phone to call my parents. ... Eventually I drifted off & woke up a couple of hours later, sweating & completely bewildered...When I woke up, her bedroom door was closed, I snook to the bathroom & all her family were still asleep...I never slept there again!
...I did being it up to my friend's mum a coupe of weeks later & she said that a few nights after I stayed...They had woken up suddenly to a huge crashing sound downstairs & her husband, being a police officer, immediately jumped up & expected it to be a break in but on inspection...He found the huge old oak farmhouse cabinet, that was there when they moved in but had been securely bolted to the wall by them on renovation of the building (It was so heavy it took two adult men to lift & it had to be placed by lifting it, pushing into place & then slotting down 2 inches into secore fittings)...The night they heard the crashing sound... That cabinet was face down on the floor...This would have been IMPOSSIBLE to happen...Both the bolts were still securely fastened to the wall & for this happen, meant that someone or something had to physically lift this huge oak cabinet 2 inches up & then pull it toward them 2 inches for it to have any chance of falling...They were unable to move it back themselves in the morning & had to wait for one his other 200lb+ friends to come over later & help lift it back up.... That's how heavy it was! 🤷🏼‍♀️ Approximately 2 years later, I was discussing this incident with my dad & he pretty quickly mentioned that a man had committed suicide in their garage not long before they bought the house...He didn't tell me at the time because I was only 12 & he didn't want to scare me but I was 14, nearly 15 when he told me this! 😱 ...I still believe what I saw was older than that though, the people, the clothing, THE RING! ...
submitted by mindblowntheorem to mrballen [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:26 UnableBreak9638 The Hitchhiker

I found myself on a dark and lonely road, hitchhiking my way through the night. The pebbles that lay on the ground filled my shoe, the uncomfortable feeling repeated itself every step but still unbothered to stop. The darkness of the night filled an empty void with fear inside of me. The thought of what could happen to me all alone lingered in my mind. While walking, the noise of the wind swooshed intensely through the trees' trunks and cotyledons. The eerie sound gave me goosebumps and the hair inside my windbreaker stood up. In the distance, white and yellow lights blared rapidly through my eyes. Intrigued but scared, I walked towards the signals of light. Confused and after passing some evergreen, my pupils attached to what seemed like a highway. Finally, I sighed, maybe someone could help me, I thought to myself. I stuck out my thumb onto the road, hoping that someone would help. My black glove protected my hand from the cold and the rowdy breeze. The cars passed by, untroubled and unhelpful, yet, remaining with faith, I stood there. Minutes passed that felt like hours until finally a red old Chevrolet c/k 2500 flashed the headlights on my face, and pulled the car into the side road. I approached the dark-tinted window without properly seeing his face. A black hat and a red button-up shirt were barely visible. The driver had a sinister smile, and his eyes gleamed with a diabolical intensity. I stood there, still and somewhat terrified, yet against my better judgment I jumped in. The driver introduced himself as Mr. Blackwood, a man of enigmatic charm. I greeted him and then rested my head on the car window, far away from him. I took my right hand and reached to the back, hoping to feel the seat belt buckle. To my surprise, there it was. Feeling a little more confident I grabbed it and pulled it across from me, while looking for the handle, lightning struck the car seats and below me, there were stains of blood. Suddenly, my body went through an electric shock, paralyzed in the seat. I knew if I made a sudden movement or acted scared he might kill me. Trying to be calm, I still tried to buckle my seatbelt, the red handle button was standing there and I inserted it into the little buckle hole that was supposed to click in. Unfortunately, it wouldn't, struggling and sweating, the seat belt would not buckle. Mr. Blackwood sighed and told me, “Sorry there, for the last 3 years I had hunted deer, the weight eventually would break it. I'm so sorry.” He then replied rapidly, “No one gets in my car alive” He laughed sinisterly, alluding that he only gives rides to dead deer. His car sped through the pitch-black night. My fatigue was finally catching up to me and my eyes began to weigh on me. But my intense feeling of death and fear kept me awake. Weaving through winding roads as the trees whispered ominous secrets. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The uncomfortable silence filled the air of the two-door pickup, and my eyes felt curious to see what Mr. Blackwood's attire was or if there was any escape from this car. I tried to silently slither my head a little to the left. My eyes went to the corner of my eye socket to figure out something about him. When my eye focused on the mysterious figure I could see him staring blankly back at me, not paying attention to the road whatsoever. His head quickly looked back at the road, as if he was ashamed and tried to hide the fact he was staring at me. With each passing mile, silence and small talk filled the air, and Mr. Blackwood's stories grew more twisted and menacing. He spoke about the crimes he was involved with when he was younger: “You know I was somewhat of a troublemaker when I was young” He said, “See when I was young we lived in a pretty big house. I wasn't privileged but I had my fun.” He stopped, sighed for a moment, and then responded, “My mommy was always inside and father wasn't around too much. My brother was practically my only friend. After some years, on my 13th birthday, my brother and I played cops and robbers. My momma just gave me a toy handgun, and my brother and I ran and trapped the maid. She was always the bad guy.” He kept on going “We had her on the lawn, she was trapped by 2-inch thick rope and the final act was to execute her. I pointed my brand-new handgun at her head and shot. We never saw her after” He laughed. His southern accent kept me on edge, and the way a grown man mid-fifties kept referring to her mother as momma gave me chills. It became clear that I was trapped with a man capable of unimaginable horrors. As the car raced on, the surroundings grew eerier. The moon disappeared behind dark clouds, casting an unsettling shadow over the landscape. I tried to escape, to open the car door and tumble onto the street, but it was locked. Also, there were no stop signs or anything that would make this man stop. Mr. Blackwood grinned as he watched my failed escape. Panic consumed me as I realized that I was trapped with a diabolical predator. The rhythmic thumping of my heart echoed the cyclical nature of my terror. With no way out, I summoned every ounce of courage and confronted Mr. Blackwood. I desperately demanded to know his true intentions, hoping to find a way to survive. But his response sent a chill down my spine. "Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into my car," he hissed, his voice dripping with malevolence. "You are a pawn in my twisted game, and there's no escaping the tragic ending that awaits you." The words keep repeating in my hollow mind. My mind raced as I tried to unravel the web of Mr. Blackwood's plans. I was scared to death, not knowing when was going to be the end of me. I shivered, cried, and begged for mercy. I promised him I wouldn't say a single thing, but, once again, he looked at me as he added a small laugh as grinned directly at me. As the night wore on, I realized that I couldn't trust my senses. Mr. Blackwood's words and actions blurred the line between reality and nightmare. I managed to outsmart Mr. Blackwood, turning the tables on him. I managed to convince Blackwood for him to end my life in my family garage where most of my ancestors had passed away. He didn't know I was going to fight back once I was out of the car. Arriving at the family garage, I rushed out of the car for a secret gun my dad had stashed inside the glove box of a 1977 Ford F-150. I kept it behind my back, covered by my shirt, so he wouldn't see it. Having the gun was certainly better, but there were still shivers down my entire body. “Alright kid, it's time to die,” said Mr. Blackwood with a big smile on his face. He took out a large wooden ax from the pick-up. The silver edge reflected the face of Mr. Blackwood. As soon as he finished sharpening his ax. I was paralyzed, I couldn't feel my legs, but I was still walking. I approached Mr. Blackwood and while he was walking towards me ready to swing the ax directly at my head, I stepped back, pulled out my gun, and shot one time in the middle of his eyebrows. Without hesitation, I finished the cartridge in his head. I had an unexplainable adrenaline rush. A bullet of pleasure ran through my body, replacing my shivering with relief and excitement. Justice prevailed, but the scars of the night's horrors would forever haunt me. I got the keys from the truck and was urged to go to a hospital. I was in shock after what I had lived for the past couple of hours. From being on the verge of death to killing Mr. Blackwood. I had mixed feelings about the situation, but I was focused on getting to the hospital. I sped through the highway until the red cross sign popped up. Getting closer to it I could feel liberty at the grasp of my hand. Yet my intention was not to enter the hospital. I pulled up on the truck off to a side road into the woods. A few miles in, I took a quick right-hand turn and entered the old garage that was lying on the old shack. I parked the truck and made a big jump onto the ground. There were a couple of cars already parked there. I had done this successfully again I thought to myself. So there was I again, the same old empty road that led out of the woods. I started walking down the same path as a normal hitchhiker that led to the highway, ready to have an adrenaline rush from my next victim.
submitted by UnableBreak9638 to scarystories [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:13 SnowdropLillytree [TotK] [Spoilers]Zora Stone Monuments, and how one of them relates to the timeline.

So, over the weekend I finally hunted down the Zora Stone Monuments. Most of them were pretty cool, and a few related to things like what Link helped with in the Domain between BotW and TotK, which I thought was cool.
But there's one Momument that I want to talk about.
To refresh your memories, one of the Monuments in Breath of the Wild talks about Ruto, I've copied the transcription below:
History of the Zora, Part Five
The Sage Princess Ruto
As told by King Dorephan
Long, long ago... In a past more distant than even the Great Calamity or the creation of the Divine Beast Vah Ruta... There was a Zora princess named Ruto.
We know that she was an attendant to the Zora patron deity and that she was a fair and lively girl, beloved to all.
Around that same time, an evil man with designs on ruling the world appeared, bringing disaster upon Zora's Domain.
It is said that Ruto then awoke as a sage, facing this foe alongside the princess of Hyrule and the hero of legend.
Her achievements are remembered not only by the Zora, they are also forever etched in the history of Hyrule.
The Divine Beast Vah Ruta, built ages later to face off against Calamity Ganon, was named in honor of Ruto.
?That the Zora princess—my sweet daughter Mipha—was chosen to pilot Ruta is surely the work of fate.
And here is the transcription of another Momument from Tears of the Kingdom which also talks about Ruto:
Learnings of the Zora, Part Two
The Legend of Ruto, Our Great Ancestor
As told by Prince Sidon
It is written that long ago there was a strong-willed Zora princess who was as meandering as a winding river.
The princess, who was dearly loved by her fellow Zora, was as noble as she was innocent. Her name was Ruto.
One day, a powerful and wicked man tried to take over Hyrule and brought great ruin to the once-peaceful Zora's Domain.
Our tales speak of fallen Zora soldiers drifting down the river as it sadly reflected the chaotic retreat of terrified Zora.
Princess Ruto bravely fought back her tears as she bore witness to the tragic misery unfolding in the domain.
Even amid her heartbreak, the Zora princess did all she could to help the weak and elderly escape.
Next she swam against the river's current and climbed the mighty waterfall to challenge her foe.
The details of this fight have fallen victim to the haze of time. Few details remain.
Still, it is said that she was aided by the princess of Hyrule and the hero of legend, and together they saved Hyrule.
I, Sidon, prince of the Zora, cannot help but ponder these events as I listen to the Zora children play in all their innocence.
As Princess Ruto's descendant, it is my fate to carry the torch of her brave acts into tomorrow and beyond. I shall not fail.
Previously, the Zora Stone Momuments were one of the biggest pieces of evidence used by some timeline theorists to place Breath of the Wild in the Downfall Timeline. Does this still apply when some of the details are so different?
There are some passages that seem like little glimpses of extra details about Zora's Domain freezing over, which is really cool. Zora soldiers 'drifting down the river' is something that Ocarina of Time couldn't really show us, but now, through a game released twenty years later, we have a more definate, tragic outcome for the events of the game. And the Momument is purposely obscure about what Ruto did to fight the evil man, and 'swimming against the river's current and climbing the mighty waterfall' can easily be seen as poetic metaphor.
But her doing all she could to help the weak and elderly escape? This is not what we witnessed in Ocarina of Time. We were told by Shiek that
With one exception, the Zoras are now sealed under this thick ice sheet
Is this a contradiction, or is it just extra detailing on an event that could only be depicted to a certain extent in Ocarina of Time?
I suppose it's vague enough to be taken as evidence for "Breath and Tears are in a new timeline", for "The old games are just legends", OR for "this is new information about an old game", but I wanted to point this out and hopefully see some discussion.
submitted by SnowdropLillytree to truezelda [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:10 Dirtychai95 Swimming options with hair loss

Hi all,
A few months ago I posted about my hair loss with pictures. I decided to go the topper route, and bought a synthetic topper for a few hundred dollars, which has helped my confidence a little. However, now that summer is here, I’m thinking more about going into the water. I’d love to hear about anybody’s tips/tricks for covering up their hair loss in a stylish way. I’m leaning on the side of not wanting to swim in the topper because I want it to last for a while, but I also don’t want to go with a full on swimming cap. All feedback is appreciated!
submitted by Dirtychai95 to FemaleHairLoss [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 03:06 P_nichelle Hair breaking off rapidly :(

Hair breaking off rapidly :(
Hair breaking off! Hairdressers help!
I did my own blonde for a year (first picture), I’ve always had very long extremely thick hair. I started seeing a professional to get my roots done, for months things went great then I noticed very minimal breakage (second 2 picture) my hair was somewhat thinner but overall still pretty healthy besides broken patches. I stopped getting my hair done December 2022 and no bleach had touched my head since. All I did was use conditioner diluted artic fox dye once a month. I also switched to shea mositure black castor oil shampoo and conditioner as it was recommended to me. I used it every single time I washed my hair unknowing of protein overload, I believe my hair went into protein overload because it was so dry, frizzy, crunchy. Across the past few months I’ve noticed my hair is growing at the root rapidly, but still getting shorter, my broken chunks were getting larger and larger despite no bleaching. It had gotten so bad I started using masks. Bit week by week my hair was thinning. I then died my hair back brown to it’s natural color with intention of never dying again. I used a Demi permanent dye which made it drier. And now day by day the back section of my hair is getting thinner and thinner and the broken chunks bigger and bigger. All of the sudden it is so bad I am embarrassed to even go out.
Hairdressers I really need advice. I did already use clarifying wash to get rid of protein build up and I’ve been using hydrating protein free masks everytime I wash. I don’t know what my hair needs. I’ve given myself 2 trims in 2 months but the split ends appear literally a week after. I am at a complete loss. I’ve had long thick hair my whole life and I can get a cut but cutting it THAT short makes me panic. Pics are in order. Pink pic is about 2 months ago, 1st brown pic is about 2 weeks ago, last pic is today (damp hair)
Any and everything is appreciated. Thank you
submitted by P_nichelle to HairDye [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 02:52 P_nichelle Hairdressers I desperately need help!

Hairdressers I desperately need help!
Hair breaking off! Hairdressers help!
I did my own blonde for a year (first picture), I’ve always had very long extremely thick hair. I started seeing a professional to get my roots done, for months things went great then I noticed very minimal breakage (second 2 picture) my hair was somewhat thinner but overall still pretty healthy besides broken patches. I stopped getting my hair done December 2022 and no bleach had touched my head since. All I did was use conditioner diluted artic fox dye once a month. I also switched to shea mositure black castor oil shampoo and conditioner as it was recommended to me. I used it every single time I washed my hair unknowing of protein overload, I believe my hair went into protein overload because it was so dry, frizzy, crunchy. Across the past few months I’ve noticed my hair is growing at the root rapidly, but still getting shorter, my broken chunks were getting larger and larger despite no bleaching. It had gotten so bad I started using masks. Bit week by week my hair was thinning. I then died my hair back brown to it’s natural color with intention of never dying again. I used a Demi permanent dye which made it drier. And now day by day the back section of my hair is getting thinner and thinner and the broken chunks bigger and bigger. All of the sudden it is so bad I am embarrassed to even go out.
Hairdressers I really need advice. I did already use clarifying wash to get rid of protein build up and I’ve been using hydrating protein free masks everytime I wash. I don’t know what my hair needs. I’ve given myself 2 trims in 2 months but the split ends appear literally a week after. I am at a complete loss. I’ve had long thick hair my whole life and I can get a cut but cutting it THAT short makes me panic. Pics are in order. Pink pic is about 2 months ago, 1st brown pic is about 2 weeks ago, last pic is today (damp hair)
Any and everything is appreciated. Thank you
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2023.06.06 02:51 TomSzabo And It Utterly Broke My Heart

Valid theories as to why Nine Mile Hole was so very special to Forrest Fenn are out there, if one cares to look carefully enough. But nobody yet to my uncertain knowledge has pointed to hints in The Thrill of the Chase or other evidence that explain why Fenn might have been so emotional about his journey to the special place that he cryptically described in the poem. Yes, it was the place he wanted to die, and that alone would be a good enough reason for emotion. Yet the sort of sentimentality that Fenn betrayed about the place – for example when he read the poem out loud – suggests something even deeper and more sorrowful: a sense of loss that is larger than the man himself.
It so happens that there truly is a source of information that reveals why Nine Mile Hole was so sacred to Forrest Fenn: an emotional connection had been forged as a result of dual tragedies. It is contained in poetry masquerading as prose written by Ernest Schwiebert, an expert on flies and flyfishing, in his seminal Nymphs: Stoneflies, Caddisflies, and Other Important Insects including the lesser mayflies, Volume II (2007).
The existence of this text and its importance to the chase was originally revealed by Vertigo, who first shared it on The Hint of Riches forum. Later, Vertigo reposted the excerpt from the Schwiebert text on Medium here along with the other results of his excellent research. All the Vertigo entries are a must read if you want to try walking in the shoes of Forrest Fenn. I won’t repeat that portion of the Schwiebert text previously shared by Vertigo in its entirety although I will include a few of the most relevant excerpts to help tie everything together.
What I want to focus on here is the emotional and motivational parts of the tragic story that Schwiebert eloquently told in the paragraphs that Vertigo did not quote. This material is critical in my opinion to understanding the importance of Nine Mile Hole and what happened there to make it the place where Fenn wanted to die.
To summarize, the fires that devastated Yellowstone in 1988 were in part the result of government mismanagement of forest fires on Federal land, much of which was due to political games (e.g. to discredit members of the other political party). These fires created havoc and destruction in the Madison watershed and its fisheries that went largely unacknowledged by environmentalists and the public at large. Only those who had fished those flywaters in the decades before the fires could truly understand the extent of the negative impact on the river and its riparian ecosystem.
Among other casualties, the brown trout hideout at the famous Nine Mile Hole was spoiled, and the spring-fed pond secreted in the woods nearby was literally wiped off the map. Its crystal clear waters – a quarter mile up a cold rivulet from the legendary hole on the Madison – had once rewarded the most tenacious Brown with the perfect spot to spawn. Now there was only brown sludge in its place. To someone who had intimately known Nine Mile Hole, its matronly crystalline pond, or any other riverine wonder of the Madison watershed in Yellowstone, it was enough to utterly break their heart.
Forrest Fenn's feelings about the ordeal were very much in the same vein as those expressed by Ernest Schwiebert. The difference was that the latter man did not need to keep a secret and therefore could lay bare his emotional injuries.
Indeed, the 1988 fires must have devastated Fenn similarly if not more so. But this grand tragedy was not quite as catastrophic to him as being diagnosed with cancer and given slim odds of surviving it. The year 1988 was not particularly kind to the man.
Fortunately, the forests and rivers of Yellowstone always seem to recover from the worst tribulations that nature could manage to throw at them, and so did Fenn. But not without a profound impact. The battle for survival and the scars left behind had connected Fenn to his special place at a level so primal and emotionally raw that it was almost umbilical. How could there ever be another consideration when it came to the somber task of choosing the place to take his last breath?
And then came the FBI raids in 2009. The Feds had had a hand in destroying his Shangri-La in Yellowstone in 1988, and now it seemed they wanted to finish robbing him of treasure while desecrating his reputation and castle in Santa Fe.
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, he said to himself through sublime gritted teeth and with a resolve that only the gravely aggrieved can muster. I'm going to carry out my plan. In Yellowstone Park, damn the consequences!
The following is taken from Nymphs: Volume II, starting on page 237. Unless noted otherwise, boldface is mine for emphasis.
I note that Vertigo excluded an important portion of the first paragraph of the story so I will re-quote this paragraph in its entirety. He then faithfully reproduced the next 7 paragraphs, which I won't repeat but will highlight a few excerpts. See Vertigo's Medium post for the full text of the 7 paragraphs, or "DYODD" and buy the book.
Schwiebert's account contains several additonal paragraphs beyond the 7 quoted by Vertigo that are just as important in my opinion, plus there is a footnote that helps enormously to shed light on things. I quote these in their entirety as fair use in order to support the theory being advanced in this entry.
But the entire Yellowstone was ravaged by a series of wildfires in the drought of 1992, and one of the worst of these fires had crossed into the park from Bridger National Forest in Wyoming, just north of Grand Teton National Park.6 The great lodgepole forests of the Bechler and Firehole watersheds had become a tinderbox, and vast acreages of primeval timber were surrendered to the fire. Magnificent stands were transformed into fire-blackened cemeteries of snags. Entire mountainsides were utterly scorched as steep timber-filled ravines became incandescent chimneys filled with fire. Slopes of unstable volcanic soils were stripped of their trees and rendered vulnerable to the erosive impacts of winds, rains, and melting snowpacks. Frightening shrouds of talcum-fine soil and ash were carried aloft as storms worked across the Yellowstone Plateau. Gullies were quickly cut into unstable hillsides, and large alluvial fans of gritty clay and ash were formed at many places along the Madison, Gibbon, and Firehole. Such fans were visible immediately below Seven Mile Bridge on the Madison, and there was much worse damage at its famous Nine-Mile Hole, which had been the most popular pool.
Schwiebert makes an error here: the great drought and fires were actually in 1988 as he correctly states in Footnote 6; see near the end of this post.
The next 7 paragraphs are faithfully reproduced in full by Vertigo … I highlight a few key lines. Following this, I start to quote the paragraphs that are excluded from Vertigo's work.
Nine-Mile lay just below the highway, in a beautiful corridor of primeval lodgepoles and ponderosas …
It was a striking place with secrets. There was a crystalline springhead pond across the water, about a quarter mile beyond the river, and completely hidden behind a dense screen of intervening conifers.
Large brown trout were known to enter this minor lodgepole tributary in October to mate and lay their eggs …
I once caught a good fish in the little pond itself … a handsome five-pound hen that had apparently spawned and wintered, and then elected to stay.
The cold spillages of the crystalline creek entered the river in the uppermost shallows at Nine-Mile …
It was a spring-hole worth knowing. Large trout often gathered there in hot weather, basking in its cool temperatures where the ledge rock shelved off into a secret pocket. I could usually count on at least one good fish there, because most anglers simply fished the primary currents of Nine-Mile without covering the pocket below its aquatic weeds.
The fate of Nine-Mile, however, was a terrible surprise.
Compare to page 141 in TToTC with the following words bolded and in red: "Cancer is a terrible word." Boldfaced and redlined text is used within the memoir in only four places, twice in reference to cancer and twice to suggest a warning that something is scalding hot: "DO NOT TOUCH!". The reason for this editorial oddity should be obvious: red for fire, and the red boldface connects cancer to fire.
The fish-filled secret below the weeds was smothered with silt and trash, and the spring-hole itself was gone. I became curious about the fate of the forest pond, and forded the river to inspect it. Dour rivulets of slurry came spilling through the trees, and I was astonished when I reached the tarn.
Its crystalline shallows were completely filled with slurry and trash. A tiny paradise had been destroyed. The outlet was clogged with refuse and silt, and the barrage of trash had raised the water in the lake until its overflows were forced into several braided channels farther downstream. No trout could ascend such gritty rivulets to spawn, and no freshly hatched juveniles would use its spatterdock riches to reach smolting size. Nine-Mile itself had been irrevocably changed, and after dutifully suiting up, I found myself angry and unable to fish.
Compare to "There'll be no paddle up your creek, Just heavy loads and water high."
Consider why Schwiebert was "angry": the full extent of the devastation was perhaps preventable if Forest Service management had actually cared about the ecosystem within their purview instead of trying to score political points.
Schwiebert continues the story as follows, not quoted by Vertigo.
Some ecologists have argued that postfire impacts have largely proved beneficial because natural lightning-strike fires are obviously implicit in our natural forest ecosystems. The science of such truths remains clear. Lodgepole cones do not surrender their seeds without exposure to hot temperatures associated with natural fires, and the argument that ancestral fires have played a substantial role in the ecological history of such forests is sound.
Such apologists further contend that once-dangerous thickets of deadfalls and dry tinder in these lodgepole forests had healthily been purged, and argued that these Yellowstone fires had cleansed its historic forests. The new grasslands created were alleged to have improved bison and elk habitat because both are grazing species, but both bison and elk lacked major predators then and had become much too plentiful before the fires. The ecosystem did not need more bison and elk. Other apologists waxed poetic about the beneficial impacts of the fires on avifauna and their prey within the boundaries of the Yellowstone, but none mentioned their horrendous impact on the famous Yellowstone trout streams.
Some fishing writers have written pieces echoing the doubtful thesis that everything had been improved through the purging of the fires, and that the fishing had also been helped. One reported unusual numbers of larger fish in the Firehole. This was irresponsibly wishful conjecture on the part of observers who lacked a fifty-year perspective on the Yellowstone and its fisheries, and were not competent to pass such judgment. The truth is much less felicitous. Several key tributaries had become so choked with postfire sedimentation, ash, and charred debris that their fish, including large trout that had never seen anglers, had been displaced from their headwaters to find refuge in the Firehole itself.
Such fish were not a happy portent.
Compare the above paragraphs to Fenn on page 141 of TToTC where he follows up the redlined and bolded "Cancer is a terrible word" with "The disease it defines represents nature in its most repellent form."
Fires also ravaged the hillsides along the lower Gibbon. Steeper slopes had quickly eroded, forming labyrinthine networks of raw gullies and wounds leaving the narrow highway below Gibbon Falls buried under great alluvial fans of mud, gritty precipitates, and trash. Heavy equipment had cleared the right-of-way, leaving great windrows of marl in many places, and the Gibbon became choked with waist-deep strata of raw sediments and ash. The great beauty of the box canyon below the Gibbon Falls had been charred and scarified by fire, leaving a river littered with postfire trash and mud winding through cemeteries of charred lodgepoles. I did not attempt to fish, and decided to investigate the fire damage along the Firehole.
The fires had decimated its remarkable lodgepole forests in many places between the Cascades of the Firehole and the Fountain Flats above Nez Perce Creek. I turned south on the old freight road toward Ojo Caliente, and found more fire damage there, but worse burns had overwhelmed the shores of Goose Lake. Its trees had been killed in fires of such temperature and intensity that their fire-seared trunks looked like they had been coated with shiny black lacquer. Fire had smoldered in the great mattresses of dead needles that once carpeted the entire forest floor, and when I used a tire iron to root deep into the burned earth, I found that fire had festered into its thick mattresses of pine needles to depths of eight and ten inches. Goose Lake was now encircled with skeletal lodgepoles that had been killed and charred by fire, although damselflies were still emerging from its shallow margins, swimming ashore to climb the blackened deadfalls and split their nymphal skins.
The scars were much worse beyond the lake.
Compare to cancer as above and to the poem words "Tarry scant": the word tarry could also mean covered by tar in addition to its more common interpretation of delay.
I reached the river and simply sat in the car, staring at its crippled forests with tears in my eyes, remembering the circling seasons I had enjoyed in these uncommon meadows. There were decades of happy memories from this place. I had shared a number of wonderful picnics at Feather Lake with old friends like the late John Hemingway, the late John Daniel Callaghan, and Bud Lilly. I particularly remember awakening from a post-lunch nap on the lodgepole bench at Feather to find Hemingway looking upstream toward the geyser plumes at Midway.
"Know what's wrong with this place?" Hemingway said with a sigh.
"No," I confessed.
"We don't own it," he said.
The narrow trace and cul-de-sac were no longer sheltered in a theatrical corridor of lodgepoles and big ponderosas, and a place of remarkable beauty had been utterly sacrificed and lost. The Firehole still flowed under the fire-blackened bench, a glittering necklace of bright water, with great billows of steam still rising from the geyser basin upstream. I had shared this place with a long parade of people across more than fifty years, and the morning was filled with echoes. I left the car and was surprised by the silence. There were no birds, no brash camp robbers arrived to beg for table scraps, and no skittish chipmunks scuttled across the forest floor. There was nothing for buzzards to scavenge, and no voles to interest circling hawks. The pale September sky was empty. Wind stirred in the blackened snags, which groaned and creaked. The meadow had offered some remarkable sport over the years, and I had hoped to fish, but there was no thought of fishing now.
I drove slowly back along the washboard trace toward Ojo Caliente, through its fire-scarred mausoleum of trees, as a big storm was starting to gather and build along the Pitchstone Ridge. Its conifers had also been ravaged as the wildfires crossed into the Firehole watershed, leaving its summits a raw wasteland of charred earth and gritty ash. The sun had quickly surrendered to an ominous gunmetal sky, and as the storm finally broke along its battlements, immense clouds of loose soil and ash billowed high into the darkening gloom. Such spiraling squalls of silt and windmilling ash would eventually reach the little Firehole itself, and further despoil its hyaline currents. I suddenly understood how profoundly its watershed had been changed.
And it utterly broke my heart.
😪
Footnote 6 on page 735 is revealing. It reads:
There is much credible evidence that these fires had begun outside Yellowstone Park, in the Absaroka headwaters of the Yellowstone in the Shoshone National Forest, and in the Teton National Forest north of Jackson Hole. The fires were fought on national forest tracts, but firefighters were withdrawn once the fires entered the national park itself. The fires were permitted to burn inside the national park for short-term political purposes, because 1988 was an election year. Our natural-fire policy had actually emerged under Presidents Nixon and Ford, and was based on sound forest science, but its application became a regional political issue when both Nathaniel Pryor Reed and Cecil Andrus refused to extinguish a number of controversial fires on federal land. Political opponents fought the Yellowstone fires aggressively outside the national park because the blazes had apparently begun in campfires and lightning strikes on the national forests. Firefighters had been deployed while these fires were still burning on tracts of commercial saw timber, but were stopped once the fires had crossed into Yellowstone. Some of the worst damage occurred on the Firehole and Thoroughfare, and these fires were not fought until they threatened park installations at Canyon and Fishing Bridge, and the historic art sauvage hotel located at Old Faithful. Andrus was no longer Secretary of the Interior when I met him, but during an interview in his office at Boise, I sought his opinion of the Yellowstone fires. Andrus still believed that the bipartisan natural-fire policy had been supported by good science, and pointed out that more than twenty petrified forests within park boundaries suggest that Yellowstone had survived worse destruction, although that perspective is little comfort to anglers who will never again enjoy the pristine Madison and Firehole of recent memory. He agreed that Yellowstone itself was not large enough to protect its aggregate ecosystem, and further conceded that a zealotry that had continued to advocate natural-fire policy in the worst drought summer in recorded history had perhaps been unwise. But he shook his head over the political tactics of appointees in the Forest Service, who had protected tracts of commercial saw timber while later permitting the Yellowstone itself to burn, and had further attempted to discredit the Carter Administration during the election of 1980.
From TToTC page 26: "One day my father gave me a spanking at school for running across some stupid desks, then that night he gave me a spanking at home because I got a spanking at school. The more I thought about that the more I felt put upon. When I explained to him that I'd been double jeopardized he told me that those things didn't count in a dictatorship. That's when I started to mistrust governments."
From TToTC page 147: "Now I feel that my father is sitting on the edge of a cloud somewhere watching. If he knows everything about me he's pretty busy lighting candles, some of them on both ends. But I hope he knows that I've been sometimes guilty only by innuendo, and that's why I wrote my epitaph with such profundity: I wish I could have lived to do, the things I was attributed to."
In 2009, the FBI raided Fenn and several other art dealers – and alleged looters – of Native American artifacts in the Southwest. The raid resulted in the confiscation of just four items from Fenn (none of which could be proven as having been obtained by him illicitly).
https://www.sfreporter.com/news/coverstories/2009/08/19/stealing-the-past/
This was more than just a nuisance … Fenn's reputation had been impugned and two other dealers who were arrested after the raids committed suicide. These guys were likely people he knew or may have even been his friends. A third man arrested in the case also committed suicide; he was a government informant who essentially helped the federal agents entrap the Four Corners dealers.
https://www.santafenewmexican.com/news/local_news/dealer-blame-fbi-for-seller-suicides-in-four-corners-looting-case/article_f8613507-1b71-513a-ba21-43a6b0622c0b.html
Fenn was supposedly very angry and threatened Tony Dokoupil with legal action when the reporter spoke with old "pothunting" acquaintances and revealed some unsavory information about Fenn's artifact-collecting past, for example: "... Fenn wasn't just taking a treasure or two but returning to caves and stripping them clean …" In the end, the publicity of appearing in Newsweek magazine at such an early stage in the treasure hunt must have overridden Fenn's desire to keep some of those things that he "was attributed to" under wraps.
https://www.newsweek.com/forrest-fenn-wants-you-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones-64427
The FBI raids – based on purchases of artifacts by a government informant using government money to entice dealers to specifically sell him contraband, and which were conducted by multi-agency SWAT teams – were highly controversial for many locals. No doubt Fenn was pissed off at the Feds more than ever at that point. Despite the epitaph he wrote for himself, he certainly did not want to be remembered as "the old guy in Santa Fe raided by the FBI".
Less than a year later, he published his memoir with its treasure hunt poem. Little chance the timing was just a coincidence.
Finally, does anybody find it intriguing that Fenn rarely if ever talked about the 1988 fire in Yellowstone? It happened the same year he got cancer (or did it?), and he talked plenty about that personal ordeal. The fire and its aftereffects utterly destroyed some of his most cherished places where he had fished for trout and melded with nature since he was a young boy, including his (probably) favorite fishing hole at TOP SECRET "Nine-Mile" and not to mention the magical wood on the far bank of the river with its secluded crystal pond to which he would have gone alone and sat under pine trees, napping, daydreaming, watching wildlife, marveling at the mountain and river vistas, and writing poems or love notes to his wife. Yet not a peep from him about the conflagration that ravaged all of that? Curious.
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