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Height: 5’10 Weight: 193 lbs Age: 30 Gender: Male
Simplified Symptoms list: Experiencing a lot of symptoms, but here is a list:
1. Visual disturbances (blurry vision, visual snow, afterimages, flickering vision, can see pressure phosphenes in vision that come in from the side, closed eye hallucinations, floaters, eyes cross at times, Trails, Entoptic phenomena (can see sparks flying in the sky that are different from floaters), right eye twitching, can see vein pulsing in left eye when I am walking or exercising, light sensitivity) 2. Tinnitus (both regular and pulsatile on right side) 3. Extremely dry, gritty eyes after waking up 4. Sound sensitivity 5. Internal vibrations (especially after waking up from sleeping, or when eating something really carby like pizza) 6. Creaky extremities, crunchy hands that can lock up sometimes if I am playing the guitar or if I am gripping grocery bags for 5 minutes. 7. Muscle weakness and Droopy eyelids 8. Moments of visual/auditory hallucinations only when waking up from sleeping or falling asleep 9. Muscle twitches 10. Blood feels like it is running towards my hands when standing up and putting arms down by waist (bier spots, maybe?). Becomes splotchy. Goes away when I have my arms up. 11. Watery sensations, especially after eating. If I put even mild pressure on my arms or legs, I get a cold sensation back, maybe poor circulation? 12. Blood rushes to head sometimes when I stand up 13. Body jerks me awake some times (this has gotten less over the four years since it started but it still happens from time to time) 14. Notice burning, inflamed eyes after I eat or drink (food sensitivities). Lot of my symptoms change with food, will describe below. 15. Extreme dryness in hands after shower (mostly hot water) and washing hands. Hands look very wrinkled and pruney right after. Left side more affected than right.
Family History: Mom: Diabetes, Breast Cancer Dad: Diabetes, Prostate Cancer, High Blood Pressure Grandma (Father’s side): Low thyroid issues
Health Background: Currently diagnosed as Prediabetic (A1C 5.7%). Have lost 30 pounds to help this. Wisdom teeth surgery, Tonsillectomy in 2004. Allergic to dust and pollen. No other issues until all of these issues starting happening in 2020.
Background of symptoms: Symptoms began in November 2020. My first symptom was dry eyes, especially in my left eye. When I would wake up, it would feel like sand was stuck in my eye (gritty feeling). This went on until I ended up getting a corneal scratch in February 2021. Doc gave me salt drops for my eyes, which made it better. Got the vaccine in April, May 2021, had some weird symptoms for 3-4 days following each shot but back to normal after. In around June 2021, I got a corneal ulcer in my left eye from the constant dryness. Opthalmologist gave me doxycycline and Lotemax steroid drops and antibiotic eye drops for it and to treat the dry eyes. A day or couple days after I started getting tinnitus on my right side. A week later, after bowel movement, I started noticing a bunch of visual disturbances (static in vision, afterimages, etc.). From then on, I started getting all the symptoms mentioned before, including muscle twitches, pulsatile tinnitus, etc. When I was almost about to fall asleep, my body would instantly wake me up and it felt as if my breath had stopped for a millisecond. As the months went by, my vision also started to get more disturbances. Everything looked sharper and more glarey than it should. Also, I started to get vibrating vision too, where if I look at a block of text, I could see the words move. Started seeing a wave effect. Noticed that this barely happens if I close and use one eye. Another disturbance that I get is that when I close my eyes, I sometimes notice two tiny balls of light that move towards my nose (in the left eye, the ball moves from the left side of eye to my nose and in the right eye, the ball moves from the right side of my eye to my nose). Closest that anything has come to describe it is “pressure phosphenes.”
Here is an accurate description of some of my visual disturbances:
Glare: http://VisionSimulations.com/daytimeglare.htm?backgroundBlur=19&spreadOfGlare=4&opacityOfGlare=100
Static:
http://VisionSimulations.com/visual-snow.htm?background=office1.png&density=0.79&speed=10&grainsize=1
Ghosting:
http://VisionSimulations.com/simple-ghosting.htm?background=office1.png&ghostX=10&ghostY=10&ghostOpacity=8
Then I started noticing a lot more cardiovascular issues in Feb 2022. Heart rate would spike up after standing up from sitting down. Also noticed that my tinnitus behaved differently when I was lying down. While my regular tinnitus is predominantly in my right ear, I would start hearing some of it in my left ear if I was sleeping on my left side. And sometimes, it would actually DROP 30%-50% if I was sleeping on my right side. which is strange. Also noticed that I was getting watery sensations in my ears too, especially when I was lying down on the side my bed. I also notice that my eyes crossed more as well, especially in the first hour after I get off my bed and sit on my computer chair. The cold sensations happen a lot more after I eat, so I am assuming it’s from poor circulation but I am not sure.
Around the same time, I also started getting splotchy spots in my hands when I kept them below my waist. It felt like blood was moving down to my hands. Raising them up below the waist would stop the pooling and the spots go away. When I drop my hands down, I notice that my fingers start twitching more too as the blood moves into my hands. My testicles would also start to tingle as well, but not constantly. I get waves of tingling in my testicles for 1-2 seconds and then it goes away for a while.
I started getting internal vibrations in my body as well, like a cell phone is stuck in my body. This happens mostly when I wake up from sleeping initially, and then goes away as soon as I am awake. My muscles started twitching a lot more, started getting more burning/cold sensations around my body, and I noticed my hands were very creaky as well. If I close my hands into a fist and slowly open them, they do not feel smooth at all. The feeling is similar to that of a door creaking. I noticed that this is also happening all around my body, not only in my fingers. I just don't notice it as much as I do in my fingers. Also noticed some loss of muscle in my hands. They're more pruney looking. Also have some weird unexplained yellowish/oorange spots on my hands. Confirmed that it's not jaundice but doctors dont know what it is either.
Here are some images of my hands. This is what my hand looks like on a regular day.
https://postimg.cc/qNVX3jXz
https://postimg.cc/p5j5VMSk
It gets better if I have electrolytes (which I started in the last week). Gets worse after loose bowel movement. Noticed it got WAY worse when I was prepping for my colonoscopy by drinking only liquids and not eating any solid food (lot more pruney and wrinkled).
Similarly, my left eye is droopy (left side in general is more droopy):
https://postimg.cc/tYHN1Bz7
Also, this is what my hand looks like if I have my hand down at times (splotchy, bier spots, orangeish lines):
https://postimg.cc/rdpd0rbD
In late 2022 is when I started noticing a vein pulsing in the vision of my left eye. This normally happens when I am standing up or walking, and then goes away after 3-4 seconds of pulsing. Around the same time, I started noticing that I was getting dizzy when sitting down. Similar to the sensation of sitting on a boat in water. My eyes started twitching more as well and my joints were a lot more clicky. Another interesting thing that I have noticed is that I've started getting weird hallucinations when I am sleeping or drifting off into sleep. For example, I start hearing random noises as soon as I drift into sleep sometimes, which causes me to wake up instantly. Additionally, when I am starting to wake up from sleep, sometimes I can literally see scenes of a movie or a tv show or something random while my eyes are closed. It's like I'm watching a movie with my eyes closed, it's by far the strangest thing I've ever experienced. This happens more if I have bowel movement and then try to go to sleep or if I have loose bowel movement the day of.
In early 2023, I started getting reactive hyperglycemia as well. I'm suspecting this was happening to me a bit in 2022 as well. This led to a lot of fatigue after eating, but I realized the fatigue wasnt as bad if I ate less carbs and smaller portions. Also started noticing that my bladder control was weaker too. When I was urinating, I noticed more dribbling. During this year, one doctor also told me it could be Lyme disease, so I tried to go on intravenous antibiotics for 3 months but they did not help me.
I also started to get food intolerances slowly. For example, my left eye starts getting inflamed when I drink coffee. Also, sometimes dairy causes burning/stinging in my eyes. Multiple other foods started to cause reactions as well, including increased muscle twitches, tinnitus, light sensitivity, burning/watery sensations, fatigue, dizziness. Went gluten free and dairy free for a while, did not really help. Also, I noticed that one day I would get a reaction from eating oranges, and the next day I would not get any reaction from eating oranges. Same thing happened with a bunch of other fruits and foods as well.
Tests/Results:
I can provide tests for anything upon request if I have them. My tests are basically 99% normal so far. Here is a quick summary of my medical journey:
I've been to over 25-30 doctors since this started. Most blood tests are normal. My immunologist saw that I have high IL-6, which is an inflammatory marker. He thinks that maybe I can try an immunosuppressive drug (Rituxan), but my other doctors have told me that this is kind of hardcore so I'm not sure if I want to do that yet.
My interventional neuroradiologist took an MRA/MRV of my head. He noticed I have stenosis on the right side (which is also where my pulsatile tinnitus is). However my pulsatile tinnitus is very infrequent, and does not cause me much discomfort as much as my regular tinnitus. He says that the stenosis is ONLY causing the pulsatile tinnitus, not any other symptoms that I have. He told me to revisit if the pulsatile tinnitus gets extremely bothersome, and then he'll think about stenting.
All my other rheumatology/neurological blood tests are normal. Neurological (EEG, etc.) tests are also normal. Worked up for Myasthenia Gravis but also negative for that. Tried dose of Mestinon, it made me worse temporarily. Don't have Sjogren's either according to bloodwork.
Endocrinology blood tests are also mostly normal, including thyroid. A1C is at 5.9% last we checked, but the last couple years it was at 5.4% as all of this was happening (it’s always been between 5.0% and 5.4%). I’ve been losing weight to keep it under control as I have diabetes in my family history. Only other thing is that I have low Ferritin, but my doctor said that this is okay as my Iron and hemoglobin are normal. I have done an iron infusion recently as well, but it did not help. We are going to monitor to see if my Ferritin drops in a month or so.
Endo also noticed I have a benign pituitary tumor in my brain. I went to a neurosurgeon to get his consultation for this and he said there’s nothing to worry about, it is benign and is not causing my symptoms. It just needs to be monitored every year, so we will do a scan every year.
Did a colonoscopy and endoscopy to check for malabsorption, celiac, crohn’s etc. I am all clear on that front too.
Some quirks, possible clues, and interesting points that I’ve noticed regarding my symptoms:
1. My constant blurry vision gets 70-80% better at times when I have a sugary drink. Goes back to being blurry after about 5-10 minutes. This is the only thing that makes my blurry vision better. Droopy eyelids also lift up a bit when I have a sugary drink or after I eat a carby meal. Also, I noticed that the tear production in my eye increases especially when I have sugary desserts. And if I have a pretty carby meal(s) day the day before, I generally wake up with less irritation in my eyes. Sweating all over my body also increases when I eat or drink something sugary. At all other times, my body is extremely dry. I also get a prickly feeling in my back sometimes as I am drinking the sugary drink. All in all, my symptoms are *mostly* worse when my blood sugar is normal, but better at higher sugars. Either that or carbs just help some of my symptoms and I am not sure if my body is having trouble processing them?
2. My visual snow generally gets worse after eating food or going for a walk/doing exercise. My tinnitus gets betteworse after food as well.
3. My bladder control/dribbling is worse after going for a walk/doing exercise.
4. When I took an iron supplement a couple months ago, I was getting loose bowel movements every couple of days. After the loose bowel movement, I noticed that most of my issues would be way worse for the next couple of days (muscle twitches, static in vision, tinnitus worse, hallucinations would reappear) -- I’m assuming dehydration/fluid balance has a part to play in all this too.
5. Also, one day after I woke up and took an iron supplement on an empty stomach, I got a migraine with aura for the first time in my life. Seemed to mostly affect my left side but I did experience a kaleidoscope sort of vision and vision loss for around 10-15 minutes. Didn’t happen again after.
6. Bowel movement causes dizziness (boat like sensation). I am assuming this is because the Vagus nerve is affected. Get same type of dizziness when I sit up from laying down on my bed or after I eat food.
7. Bowel movement also (even if not loose) generally makes my vision worse. Right after, my vision gets pretty blurry and I generally feel weaker. There have been times where my eyesight has been decent after I wake up (after I have a big, somewhat carby dinner the night before), but then it gets noticeably worse after bowel movement in the morning (can possibly be connected to point #4, not sure).
8. My neurological symptoms most closely match the symptoms of those that have had B6 toxicity (mostly triggered by a dehydration event), those that have intracranial pressure (don’t have headaches at all, doctors don’t think this is it), and those that have mold toxicity (don’t have mold in my house).
9. The inflammation in my left eye gets worse after I drink coffee, but also I noticed that it would consistently become inflamed when I tried Betaine HCL supplements specifically. The more Betaine HCL supplements I took at a time, the more inflammation I was getting. Not sure what that could mean, but something isn’t right with my stomach and acid maybe.
That’s all I can write for now, I tried to explain everything as best as I could. This thing has been ruining my life for the past 4 years, and I need help. Feel free to request or suggest anything you may think can possibly lead me in the right direction, as this has taken over my life and it's really difficult to hold a job. Thanks

PREVIOUS
The curtain sheers billowed with the ocean breeze, and I held down the papers on my desk, indignantly. “Could you close the window?” I asked and Achaicus glanced up.
“You have legs, don’t you?”
“We don’t all have wine glasses to hold the paperwork down,” I retorted bluntly.
I was helping him with the mountains of paperwork left behind by our father. Most of it was construction approvals or assistance requests that he had ignored, and now it was a matter of trying to figure out which projects were still relevant.
“Close the window yourself, I’m busy,” he muttered, but as I was about to argue further there was a knock on the door.
Our cousin, Markos, stood in the doorway. He leant on the door frame as he wiped blood off his hands with a cloth. “Am I interrupting?” he mused.
My brother straightened, “No, what do you need?”
“Has the vanir spoken?” I asked simultaneously and Markos smiled.
“Not yet, it seems he’s quite stubborn. I’m not sure how much information we’ll get from him.”
“Are you certain, have you tried everything?” Achaicus asked, annoyed.
“Everything that won’t kill him,” he responded cheerfully, “So far he’s only provided medical information, did you know that vanir teeth regrow?”
“You pulled his teeth?” I enquired.
“Of course!” Our cousin truly was psychotic.
“And he still said nothing?”
“Nothing of use.”
“Fine,” my brother sighed, “I’ll send word to the vanir. If the boy won’t talk, perhaps he can be used as leverage.”
Markos nodded, “That would be my recommendation as well.”
“Is there anything else to report?”
“Nothing of importance,” he shrugged, turning to go. However, it was as we had just begun to return to the task at hand that he paused, turning back, “Oh, but he did make a request: he wishes to speak with you, Nathaniel.”
I hesitated, surprised, “..Why?”
***
My footsteps echoed off the walls as I made my way down to the holding chambers with mild trepidation. I couldn’t imagine why Mercurissen wanted to talk to me, or what he was planning. Part of me thought not to go at all, but curiosity won out.
I paused when I reached the lower floor. This was where prisoners were kept, and I opened the door into his holding cell cautiously. Twisting the latch and letting it swing inward of its own accord. The room beyond was dark. Light spilled into the space in a neat rectangle and I peered in.
Dried stains dirtied the floor, and I allowed my energy to flare, creating light as I stepped into the room. My boots clacked on the floor and the door closed with a soft click. Mercurissen was curled on the floor at the far wall, and I approached with uncertainty.
He was facing away from me, “You wanted to talk to me,” I stated rather than asked.
“I did…”
“So talk. What do you want?” I ordered, I had no time for nonsense.
“…I want to go home…” he whispered too quietly.
I took a step closer to hear better. However the moment I did, he moved. Struggling to sit up he pressed himself further back into the corner like a caged animal, “Don’t come any closer!”
Mercurissen glared at me with eyes full of resent and uncertainty. Blood trickled from his nose over his lips, and from the corners of his mouth. It dripped slowly off his chin and he clenched his teeth, shrinking back further as I approached, “I said don’t!” he shouted, closing his eyes as I reached for him.
“Relax,” I assured, calmly disregarding his complaints and placing my hand on his head. His hair was soft, although some of it was stiffened with dried blood. Meticulously carved slices left sharp wounds in the boy’s flesh, bruises coloured his skin and the way he flinched when touched proved it had been a thorough questioning.
Gently I intertwined my fingers in his hair, rolling one lock back and forth between my fingertips, loosening it from the blood. I almost felt bad for him. He hadn’t hurt me when he had the chance, now we would continue to torture him until he gave up his family, and who knew how long that would take. A short moment passed as I thought about it, and to my surprise, Mercurissen gradually leaned into my touch.
“You’re not so brave now are you?” I commented.
“...I’ve never claimed to be brave,” Mercurissen answered softly and I hesitated, this one hardly lived up to his reputation.
“Are you going to tell me what we want to know now?”
“No…”
I sighed, “You wouldn’t have to be hurt like this if you did.”
“I think that man is going to hurt me regardless.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, he was probably right. Markos had a curious mind, and little interested him as much as watching others react to pain.
“Besides…” Mercurissen began quieter, “...there’s nothing I can tell you, I can’t betray my family…”
“You’re foolish.”
“No…” he murmured and I sighed, giving up trying to convince him.
“If you’re not going to tell me anything, why ask to speak with me?” I queried instead.
“Because I didn’t know what else to do… I just wanted him to stop…”
“I see…” I retracted my hand, brushing the back of my fingers down his cheek as I did. His skin was smooth and soft with a comfortable warmth. “…This will be over soon, a letter has been sent to your father. If he agrees to a treaty, you will be returned to him,” I assured, afterall, we weren’t the savage ones.
“…He won’t agree…”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my father…”
I didn’t know what to say. “...Tell Markos what he wants to know, you’ll be fine,” I told him instead, then moved to go. However when I turned I felt a gentle tug on the hem of my pants.
“...Could you stay..? Just for a little while…”
“...No,” I murmured, gently brushing him off. I had only wanted to see how he was faring. I closed the metal door softly, leaving him behind and taking with me the sliver of light that it had allowed into the room.
***
Mercurissen was a fool to be as stubborn as he was. If he talked, I could at least justify moving him to more comfortable accommodation. There were holding chambers for political prisoners and given who he was, that was more fitting for him. Presuming my brother allowed it of course…
The metallic scrape of steel against steel pulled me from my thoughts. I was preoccupied thinking about that little vanir brat, and my sparring partner had wrenched the sword from my hand. It landed upright in the dirt not far away and I put my hands up innocently as the tip of a blade directed at my throat.
“What’s got you distracted?” Ávila asked with a sly smile, showing the points of her teeth.
“Nothing,” I lied without emotion.
“It’s definitely something,” she corrected, lowering her sword and allowing me to retrieve my own before we began the next round.
We were the civilized ones, yet it was the vanir who hadn’t hurt me more than they needed to and the way Mercurissen had flinched bothered me. Should I have taken him from the holding chambers? Was it fair to leave him at Markos’s mercy? I realized I was giving it too much attention again.
Pushing all thoughts of him from my mind, I chose to focus on my training instead. Sweat dripped from my brow and I wiped it away with the back of my arm. Ávila was beginning to retreat, and I took the opportunity. Twisting to the side I caught her off guard and she fell back.
“Alright, I give up!” she huffed, waiting expectantly for me to offer her a hand up, “You need to train with someone more your level.”
“My brother is busy,” I explained.
“Markos then?”
“I would rather not,” I mused. When Markos and I spar we always go too far. It’s a wonder neither of us have lost a limb.
Ávila thought about it a moment before she agreed, “Perhaps that is wise.”
“Still training?” a new voice interrupted us.
“Your ears must have been burning,” I commented as Markos approached with his pet.
He smiled, tossing me a towel to wipe away the sweat, “Oh? Were you talking about me?”
“Just deciding how best to dispose of you,” I assured with a returned smile, “Now why are you here?”
“You’ve missed breakfast, your brother wasn’t pleased. He sent me to find you.”
I scowled to myself, “Right,” I’d lost track of the time.
“You shouldn’t displease him.”
“It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
Markos looked entertained, folding his arms, “No? It’s hard to tell with you.”
“Surely you didn’t come only to tell me that my brother is upset?”
His eyes sparkled, “No, I came to give you another reason to upset your brother. There’s been activity at the border, a vanir rider crossed some days ago.”
That caught my attention, “Just the one?”
“Yes, she’s been coming closer to the castle each night, and has so far evaded all attempts to eliminate her.”
“You think she’s here for the prisoner?”
“Yes,” he mused as if waiting for me to reach some other conclusion.
“...You want to go find her?”
He folded his arms with a nod.
“...And you want me to come with you?” I understood at last.
“If you come with me, it won’t be me Achaicus will be mad with.”
I rolled my eyes, this man was always calculating.
***
We left through the main gates on horseback. Their hooves kicked up loose dirt and I traveled in the direction of the intruder, following the warning pulses of our barrier. Whoever it was, they weren’t making any effort to hide.
Dark magic burned high into the air from a concentrated point and as we reached the crest of a tall hill, we could see the intruder. The markings of a vanir warrior tainted her skin like tattoo ink and her aura lashed the air. She was riding a giant golden boar and kept a safe distance.
“Brigetta,” I muttered mostly to myself.
“One of your friends?” Markos commented with a sly grin and I scoffed. Some days I hated this man.
“Wait here. I’ll deal with this.”
I gathered my reins, allowing my own energy to ignite, “Vorwärts,” I commanded the horse and we began to move, although Markos followed regardless.
However, the girl was just as ready as I was. She bared her teeth in response and when I charged her, she turned to flee. Hooves thundered over the ground, flicking debris and dust. Ordinarily our horses are faster than Vanir boars, but Brigetta was a skilled rider. She weaved between the trees, picking her path up a steep incline and her boar navigated the uneven ground with ease.
We gained on her and she changed directions. She rushed back past us, and we were engulfed in the shroud of a vanir. The sensation of their magic is similar to suffocating, your heart slows and you feel as if you can’t breathe. It’s unpleasant, and Markos’s mare appreciated it less. She reared, making her temporarily uncontrollable while I turned to continue the chase.
The vanir swerved, sending a spray of dust and my horse turned in a dime to follow. We traveled downward at a near vertical angle but my mare kept steady, most days I had more trust in this animal than I did in others. Her silver mane and tail flared, catching the sunlight as her feet found solid footing and I leaned back to remain seated.
We were almost in alignment with Brigetta, and as she tried to change direction again, we diverted to cut her off. Unfortunately the vanir reacted just as fast as I had and avoided us. She changed her path, doubling back a second time and giving the simple command, “Dómari, bíta!” she hissed, commanding her boar to attack.
Immediately I pulled my horse back, allowing her to rear up and defend herself. Heavy hooves came crashing down onto the boar with a compact thud and Brigetta was thrown from her boar. The beast recovered quickly, shaking the dust from its fur with little concern and I backed up further, drawing my sword only to find we were cornered against a rocky cliff face.
If it were only Brigetta and I, this would be settled, but boars regularly tear our horses apart and I wouldn’t allow my horse to get hurt. However, as I moved back, Brigetta advanced. She pulled herself back onto her boar, and regarded me with wary caution as she calculated the best angle to attack.
The vanir paced back and forth, agitated, and uncertain. As if she wanted to approach but couldn’t quite force herself to come nearer. Tension filled the space between us like a repelling force, my horse’s tail lashed and she sidestepped, unnerved by the vanir boar not more than a few feet away.
“You-” Brigetta began in an accusatory tone, but her voice broke in a wet snarl as she breathed in too heavily, “I should have killed you! Where is he!? You tell me he’s okay or I swear I’ll-”
“You’re in our territory. Be careful about the threats you make,” I cut her off, then explained, “Mercurissen is in our custody, I trust Mercury received our terms?”
“I don’t care about your terms!”
“Stop shouting, I can hear you just fine,” I snapped.
Brigetta’s chest heaved and her eyes were pinpoints of rage. However, when she spoke next it was at a more reasonable octave. “Is he alive?” she demanded tensely.
“For now.”
“Is he hurt?”
“He’s alive,” I repeated and she seemed unable to process for a moment.
With so much primal fury, and nowhere for it to go she ground her teeth. Her eyes glistened with hot water and she spoke in a low dangerous tone. “Give him back to me, or I will kill every one of you myself.”
“He will be returned, once Mercury agrees to a treaty,” I stated calmly.
The girl snarled, “Mercury will never agree to a treaty.”
“That’s too bad. Then we have nothing more to discuss, now leave. While I'll still allow it.”
For a moment I thought she would attack. However, to my surprise, she seemed uncertain, anguished as she relented. “Please. I’m begging you please. Give him back.”
“If Mercury agrees, he will have his son back,” I repeated, unmoving.
“And if he doesn’t?” she sneered.
“Then we will execute his son.”
At this, the girl took in a deep breath, looking to the sky for half a second while she blinked back emotion. “But he will never agree!” she screamed at last and frustrated tears spilled down her cheeks. My eyes widened in surprise and I was taken aback as she continued. “Please, you can’t hurt him…! Just give him back to me…”
“We’re not going to give him back without compensation,” I muttered uncomfortably.
“We’ll disappear, I swear it. I’ll take him out of the war, I’ll take us both out of the war.”
“That’s not enough.”
Brigetta seemed at a loss for what to say, “You don’t understand! He’s not like the rest of us. He’s kind and gentle. He cares about a thousand pointless things that he shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve to die!”
I could have laughed, “He’s killed thousands of fae. Do you think he showed any of them any mercy like you’re asking me to? He tore them apart like they were nothing, leaving families missing their loved ones.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you don’t know anything about him,” she spat back.
“No? His reputation precedes him, you know. Mercurissen deserves everything he gets,” I snorted.
“He protected you-” she stopped short as an arrow passed her, only missing the nape of her neck because she had shifted her weight while she shouted. The girl turned back to see where the shot had come from, and I watched the calculation in her eyes.
Markos had finally caught up with us and, realizing she was outnumbered, Brigetta readjusted. She avoided a second arrow and maneuvered her boar back before rushing forward. With two short bounds the creature gained enough momentum to jump. Its muscles contracted and it shot upward, landing among the rocks of the cliff face.
The beast continued nimbly upward and disappeared over the top. Leaving us on the ground and my jaw set in annoyance. Our horses couldn’t follow that path. We would have to go around, and it was hardly worth it.
“She got away,” Markos commented.
“I can see that, thank you,” I muttered in response, although my thoughts lingered on what she had said. What did she mean he protected me? Taking a breath in I shook my head, I shouldn’t have hesitated, I should have killed her outright. Then I wouldn’t have to puzzle over her cryptic nonsense.
***
It was with mild trepidation that I found myself walking down the long starwell to the holding chambers once again. I can’t say what possessed me to make the journey. More days had passed, Markos continued his interrogations and I lamented on what Brigetta had said.
She hadn’t yet left our territory, guards tracked her night and day, but it was little use. She escaped them just as she had evaded us. Would she truly wait around for us to release Mercurissen? I thought absently as I walked through the prison. His room was the furthest down the hall and I entered without announcing myself.
The vanir was in the same place he always was, sitting in the furthest corner. He held his hands away from himself in an uncomfortable way. Long needles protruded through every one of his knuckles and fresh blood dripped slowly from the underside of each. He shivered as if cold and dewy moisture beaded on his brow.
He didn’t look up as I approached, but his gaze slowly lifted to meet mine as I crouched before him. His long lashes were damp, but his eyes were clear. “..What do you want?” he muttered.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you suffering,” I mused and he scowled.
“And? Are you satisfied?”
I shrugged. He was thinner now, and his body weaker, but his wounds were healing. Still, I sat with him, “Your cousin is being a nuisance,” I commented and he looked over, surprised.
“What?”
“Brigetta, I believe is her name. She’s stalking our territory.”
Mercurissen groaned to himself, “That idiot.”
“If she’s caught, we’ll execute her on the spot.”
“You won’t catch her, Dómari is too fast.”
“Her boar?”
“Yes.”
“They have names?”
“Of course they do,” he snorted as if it was obvious.
“How should I have known that?”
“I don’t know, I thought it was obvious. Don't your horses have names?”
“They do,” I agreed.
“What’s yours called?”
“Galaxi.”
The vanir chuckled, “Ahh, that’s so ordinary it’s almost cute.”
My lip curled and I fidgeted with mild embarrassment, “Whatever. Where is your boar?”
“I don’t have one.”
“I thought all vanir had one.”
“No… My father doesn’t like animals, so I was never permitted to have one.”
“Mercury’s ‘perfect’ little son wasn’t allowed a pet?” I teased and he scowled.
“Shut up.”
I chuckled to myself, it was easy to agitate him, and rather entertaining. Still, he closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall and I made no further comment as I watched him. He seemed tired, but I supposed his injuries probably made sleeping difficult.
“Let me see your hands,” I requested calmly, and he opened his eyes again to look at me.
“Why?” he asked, suspicious.
“Because I told you to.”
“I would rather not…” the vanir mumbled, directing his gaze away. However, he was pleasantly obedient and made no move to stop me when I placed my fingers under the palm of his hand. I pushed it gently upward, raising it to examine the needles. They were embedded in the joints, and he winced when I touched one.
“...Please don’t…” he murmured, anxious.
“Quiet, just hold still,” I told him sedately as I began.
I pulled the needles out one by one, dropping them into a blood stained pile. They fell in individually messy splatters and Eiríkr exhaled softly in pain.
“I'm almost done,” I assured, not that it looked like he was listening.
His shivering had increased. Fresh sweat dampened his hairline and he held his breath. I thought for a moment that he might pass out. However as the last of the needles clattered to the floor he sighed in relief.
“Thanks…” he mumbled awkwardly.
“Nothing more snarky to say?” I taunted lightly. It bothered me somewhat to see him this way, for as much as I disliked him, I didn’t hate his nature.
Mercurissen took a small breath in before looking back over to me with the faintest gleam of mischief in his eyes, “Why should I say anything else? You pulled them out didn’t you? It doesn’t matter that you were bad at it.”
“Should I put them back in then?”
“Uhh…” he faulted, unable to tell if I was serious or not and I smiled slightly.
“Relax, I’m only joking,” I mused, “Tell me, why did Markos put them in?”
“He didn’t like that I kept writing little spells, apparently it was inconvenient for him.”
I chuckled to myself. Markos had failed to mention having any kind of trouble with this boy, and that probably meant he was more of a nuisance than my cousin appreciated. “I see,” I mused, Mercurissen truly didn’t know how to make things easier for himself.
“…Can I ask you something?” he spoke with uncertainty.
“You may ask.”
“What’s going to happen to me..? If my father doesn’t agree?”
The question caught me by surprise and I hesitated to answer, “...You’ll be executed.”
Mercurissen fell quiet and I fidgeted. Something in the way he looked stirred an unusual guilt in the pit of my stomach and I thought about what Brigetta had said. If nothing else, she truly believed every word she had said about him and it bothered me.
“Are you afraid..?” I asked gently and he gave a small nod.
“Yes…”
The admission was unexpectedly honest and I delayed processing. “I thought vanir were fearless…”
Mercurissen lowered his gaze to the floor, “We’re supposed to be, but I don’t want to die…” he murmured ashamed, and my breath shallowed. It was an unfamiliar feeling of remorse that sparked resentment and I stood.
“Then you should have made different choices,” I told him bluntly.
He didn’t answer and I stormed out of the room, ignoring the gentle pull on the back of my shirt. If he had wanted to live he shouldn’t have been who he was, or what he was. His species could have chosen to live peacefully, respected the borders, not started a war. But they didn’t, and if Mercury didn’t agree to end it, his son would pay for it.
NEXT
.xXx.

UK based.
Tenth post in my accountability series. Using this as a progress diary since startihg my weight loss journey on 12th Feb 2024.
Started the week at 157.8 (down 1.4lbs from) 159.2 the week before.
This week has been mikes better, my son is home from hospital and recovering well. I was a little lax with what I ate and drank this week. On Tuesday I had a Nando’s chicken wrap. I had a pizza express pizza takeaway on Friday, but only ate 2 slices. On Saturday, I went out to ping pong for lunch (dim sum and rice), with a glass of Prosecco. On Sunday we had a joint birthday party for my son and friends I ate pizza (again)! We weren’t all the way back to normal with managing my son. But now he’s getting back to himself with a healthy appetite, we’ve got more time and can go back to our healthy way of eating.
I kept up with the walking this week and continued my average of 14,000 steps a day. It’s become a habit now which makes me feel good.
The food noise really came back on Friday, and really found myself having to think about food meals and when to stop. I could have easily eaten more at the restaurants, but I was satisfied with what I had. I felt really good about that.
I’ve lost slower again this week, but in a healthy and expected range, so can’t argue with that! I’m getting closer to the top end of my range now (about half a stone away) so it gets tougher to lose the big numbers. I’m more concerned about building muscle now. I’m really liking the way I look and how everything fits without a question. Things from the cupboard graveyard just slip on. I can see what people who like shopping enjoy about it now. I’ve still resisted getting a new wardrobe until I meet my goal. My BMI is almost in the normal range (23 and below if you are African or Asian), but my goal weight should get me there.
I took my “free 5th shot” this morning, and got 0.7ml out of it, which should give me a bit of an extra boost; and hopefully dull the food noise a little later into the week.
I’m not looking to move above 5mg (and have my next pen ready). I hope that I’ll hit my goal by the time this pen is finished and will think about titrating down to 2.5, or spacing out the 5. I need to focus on building and maintaining muscle now, cos I’m feeling a little flabby and want to feel strong. And get my butt back!
I’m proud to say in 2.5 months I’ve lost almost 30lbs, 5% body fat, visceral fat measure has dropped from 11 to 7, and my metabolic age has fallen 3 years!
SW: 184.4 CW: 156.6 WoW Loss: 1.2lbs GW: 145-150 with tone/muscle 💪🏾
SW fat percentage: 36% Last Week fat percentage: 31.7% CW fat percentage: 31.4%
SW visceral fat: 11 Last week visceral fat: 8 CW visceral fat: 7
SW metabolic age: 38 Last week metabolic age: 35 CW metabolic age: 35
Roll on next week 🚀

Hi all,
I just started taking the shot last week, tomorrow will be my second dose. My NP said I’d likely loose around 5lb/month. In the first week I have lost 3lbs. I know that no one can predict exact weight loss, and there are many contributing factors, but in general what was your typical loss per week or month?
For reference I am 5 foot, starting weight 189, down to about 186.5.
Thanks for any feedback you have :)
Also any advice you found helped your journey is always great too ;)

Im a woman who’s looking for help. I’m 5’3 300 pounds on the head. BMI 51 Very high blood pressure Where do I start physically. I know I’ll do a calorie deficit but what exercises??? My entire body hurts constantly… Doctor has me going to see a surgeon Wednesday for weight loss surgery but I wanted to do this a different way.. Insurance doesn’t cover weight loss shots. I’ve had three c sections my back and legs hurt tremendously just walking… Someone please give me some sort of advice she said my blood pressure is at very high very scary levels.. I want to live and I am motivated.. I have tried multiple times and multiple times I last a few days and forget all about any of it. I hate looking in the mirror I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I can’t even grocery shop without my legs screaming for help and me wanting to cry. I can’t keep a good job. I’m so lost..
I thought about walking with my three kids maybe 3/5 times a week after dinner but even the thought of how bad my legs are going to hurt makes me want to cry in advance. We have a small trail that is a mile long up the road. My fiancé said he would even walk with us. I hate cooking because even that makes my legs hurt so bad. I know I need to change my eating habits and tbh that’s not the hard part for me I don’t think. I want to live for myself and kids.

So, for context, I live in a small town in central Illinois, about 50 miles from Chicago. Nothing ever happens in this town aside from junkies getting arrested and the odd gunshot in the smaller neighborhoods. But for as long as I can remember, there’s always been this urban legend about a certain cemetery on the outskirts of town. It’s called Moon Creek Cemetery, or Moon’s Point Cemetery. It’ll probably come up on Google if you look for it.
The urban legend originated in either the 60’s or the 70’s I believe. It’s something that teenagers would talk about a lot to scare each other. The legend itself is about the Hatchet Lady; a woman in the early 1800s lost her son and daughter and went insane, and every full moon she can be seen running around the cemetery with a hatchet in hand. Honestly it’s pretty cheesy stuff, but it’s meant to be. Who hasn’t heard of a crazy weapon-wielding ghost mourning her dead children in the afterlife?
What I experienced though was something completely different. No Hatchet Lady, that’s for sure. This was a few weeks ago and I’ve finally had time to process it, but there are strange things that have been going on in my house ever since. I’m at a loss for what to do about it, and quite frankly, I’m scared.
I’ve always been into the paranormal. I love hearing ghost stories and reading up on haunted locations, so last week I finally got the nerve to drive the five minutes passed the county line to the cemetery entrance; it’s private property, so I had to park my car a little ways back in order to not piss off any of the surrounding residents. Since I live in Illinois, the area was surrounded by nothing but cornfields with a patch of woods right in the middle. About 100 yards from the entrance is a set of train tracks that go across a gravel road. I’m pretty sure they’re not operating anymore. I’ve never once seen a train out in that area, and I’ve been in this town for 25 years.
I got out of my car and trekked to the cemetery’s entrance on foot. It was what used to be gate, two brick beams standing on either side of the road. When I first looked up at the sign, “Moon Point”, a wicked chill shot down my spine. All of the stories that came from that place played in my head and I was just excited to be at the origin of such a famous urban legend, even if it was just for my small town.
I crossed the entrance to the cemetery, still watching my back in case any sheriff vehicles came up and told me to scram for trespassing. It was weird how everything became so quiet. Before I had entered, I heard birdsong since it was dusk. Wildlife was alive and making itself known, but the moment I stepped passed the gate, there was an eerie silence. Honestly I should have turned around and went home. But I’m an idiot, so I didn’t.
Just to the left were all the headstones. Not a single one of them were less than 100 years old. Each one was withered down by the elements, corroded and barely legible. There were a few that did look to be in better shape, but one stood out to me. All it said was “Baby. March 2, 1912.” No name. No birthday. I honestly feel nauseous as I’m thinking about it now. Right next to that stone was another in similar condition. “Mother. Lillie Alan Evans. December 13, 1880-April 28, 1913.”
I remember my blood running cold for some reason. As I was observing these headstones, I could feel as though something was watching me. I looked up and scanned the tree line. Nothing. I looked behind me toward the gravel road I had come from. Nothing. I had been there twenty minutes at that point and something in my body was begging me to leave. I’m the kind of person who goes with my gut, so I hastily turned around and beelined toward the entrance gate again.
It had gotten a bit darker at that point; the blood orange sky was turning a grey ish purple color at the horizon. But I had noticed something as I was speed walking toward my SUV.
There was still complete silence. I could still feel a pair of unseen eyes watching my back.

Shortly before 9:00 pm on October 10, 1933, Joe Groff, a Chesterton, Indiana farmer, was engrossed in a game of hearts with his neighbors when a thunderous explosion overhead shattered the tranquility of the quiet evening. Startled by the deafening sound, Joe and his companions scrambled towards a window, their gazes drawn upwards to witness the horrifying spectacle of a burning airplane disintegrating in the night sky, showering the ground below with fiery debris.
The earth shuddered as the flaming wreckage slammed into the ground. Joe and his friends raced towards the crash site, driven by the desperate hope of finding survivors. But as they drew closer, the inferno's fury pushed them back. Fred Rhode, another nearby farmer, who had also witnessed the crash, arrived to find a scene of utter devastation. Twisted fragments of the fuselage littered the field, and lying within the smoldering remains was , “a decapitated woman, her body charred, and her limbs reduced to smoldering stumps.”
"We were startled by a terrific explosion. We ran outside. We saw the plane burning in air, about 1,000 feet up. It was falling like a rock, flames shooting out on all sides. It came down faster and faster. We could hear the motor running. The plane zigzagged as if in a tail spin. Then it hit the ground with a roar and a sound I hope to never hear again. Flames shot up at least 200 feet. I heard what I thought were people crying out. We tried to throw water on the flames, but couldn’t get near enough to do any good. We had to stand on, helpless." -Joe Groff
The aircraft was identified as United Airlines Flight 23, a ten seat, twin-engine Boeing 247, bound for Chicago, Illinois. The ill-fated flight had originated in Newark, New Jersey, and made a routine refueling stop in Cleveland, Ohio. There, a pilot change occurred, and two additional passengers joined the manifest, bringing the total onboard to seven.
Now piloting the aircraft was 25-year-old Harold “Hal” Tarrant, a two year veteran of United Airlines, and his co-pilot, 28-year-old A.T. Ruby, a graduate of the University of Illinois. Hal was the son of a wealthy Illinois merchant. Recently engaged, his fiancé, Bessie, was waiting for him at the terminal in Chicago.
Also aboard was 25-year-old stewardess Alice Scribner. Alice was the daughter of a former Wisconsin state legislator. After graduating from college, she became a teacher, and later a nurse at Bellin Memorial Hospital in Wisconsin. Meeting United’s height and weight restrictions at the time, less than 123 pounds and not any taller than 5 feet 2 inches, she had joined the airline only recently. Her fiancé, Evan Terp, was also waiting for her at the airport in Chicago.
25-year-old Dorothy M. Dwyer was flying to meet her fiancée in Reno, Nevada. She was supposed to be on an earlier flight, but missed it due to a flat tire on the way to the airport in Newark. 44-year-old Emil Smith, a former army officer and grocery store owner, had also boarded in Newark, heading back home to Chicago.
Warren Burris, a radio operator for United, was one of two additional passengers picked up in Cleveland. Warren was being shuttled to Chicago to crew another flight. Also added to the manifest in Cleveland was 28-year-old Frederick Schoendorff, manager of a company that made refrigerators in Chicago.
Hal's routine radio transmission at 8:39 p.m. Central Time suggested normalcy; despite the slight drizzle over North Liberty, Indiana, the flight seemed on course. Yet, twenty minutes later, when his next scheduled check-in was due, silence echoed across the airwaves. An hour later, the airline’s station manager received a brief teletype message confirming their worst fears; Flight 23 had crashed.
Meanwhile, in Chesterton, fire crews, police, and local volunteers converged, their desperate attempts to quell the raging inferno a futile battle against the wreckage's relentless flames. As the fire burned into the night, a grim reality settled in; there were no survivors.
Evidence suggested a midair explosion had ripped the aircraft in two, sending the main fuselage, housing both the passenger cabin and cockpit, plummeting to the ground, inverted, at an estimated 150 miles per hour. Meanwhile, the severed tail section, just forward of the lavatory, fell about one-half mile from the scene of the crash, nearly entirely intact.
The bodies of Hal and his co-pilot, A.T. Ruby, were found near the airplane’s mangled cockpit. The bodies of stewardess Alice Scribner, and passengers Dorothy Dwyer and Fred Schendorf, were found nearby, amongst the wreckage of the cabin. The bodies of Emil Smith and Warren Burris weren’t found until the following morning, in the weeds about half a mile from the main section of the plane, near the tail section.
At first, it appeared to be a tragic accident; A fuel leak, possibly. Structural failure also was suggested. Some believed the plane had been struck by lightning, and there was even a theory it had been hit by a meteorite. Mounting evidence of foul play, however, led to an FBI investigation, headed by Melvin Purvis, the head of the Chicago office who would later gain fame as the G-man who “gunned down John Dillinger.”
A full-scale investigation promptly unfolded, hampered initially by the disturbing reality of looted wreckage. Drawn by morbid curiosity, onlookers from miles around had pilfered souvenirs from the crash site, hindering initial efforts. For example, the propeller of one engine was missing a blade, and investigators never found it. Decades later, in a 1999 interview as part of a project conducted by the Westchester Public Library in Chesterton, local resident Howard Johnson finally disclosed what happened to it:
“Donald Slont, who later ran Flannery’s Tavern, was on the local fire department. Of course, the fire truck went out there immediately when the alarm was sent out. When they picked up their stuff from the fire truck to come home after they had done everything that they could, one of the propellers was lying on the ground. It had broken off. Don was one of these guys that just laid his hands on anything that he could see, and he grabbed it,” Johnson recalled. “When they were investigating the thing, they couldn’t find that propeller so they thought the propeller had come off and that’s what made it crash. And here Donald had it all the time. I think it had red, white and blue stripes around it so that when the propeller turned, it looked like a circle of red, white and blue.” -Howard Johnson
United Airlines sold the remaining majority of the wreckage to a Hobart, Indiana junk dealer for $75. He hauled it away just days after the crash. However, despite the missing pieces, amidst the remaining debris agents stumbled upon several unsettling clues; Shrapnel holes were found on the inner-side of the remains of the rear lavatory door. Airline blankets stored in a cubby in the lavatory also bore the same holes.
In a bombshell development on October 14th, the FBI, after consulting with the Crime Detection Laboratory at the Northwestern University in Chicago, announced the cause of the crash was a “high-powered onboard explosive containing nitroglycerin, dynamite of high percentage strength, TNT, or some similar substance."
The meticulous examination of the wreckage pinpointed the blast zone towards the rear of the aircraft, most likely originating in the lavatory or the blanket compartment. “The investigation centered upon a piece of blanket, part of the plane’s equipment, and several pieces of the metal surface of the plane. Both had been pierced many times by small bits of metal. Only a high explosive could produce a force great enough to force metal through metal.“ This revelation transformed what was initially seen as an accident, into a confirmed act of sabotage.
In the wake of the news, a swift search for the culprit was launched, and the FBI quickly zeroed in on passenger Emil Smith. Emil, who boarded the aircraft in Newark, reportedly purchased life insurance just one day prior to the flight. The two dollar purchase promised a payout of ten thousand dollars should Emil’s plane crash. Additionally, eyewitness accounts noted him carrying several peculiar items onto the plane, including a firearm and a brown paper sack he stashed in the overhead compartment.
A thorough investigation into Emil’s background, however, revealed a seemingly normal life. The 44-year-old Army veteran, who served in Hawaii during World War I, resided with his aunt, Anna Reidl, on Argyle Street in Chicago. Previously, he co-owned and operated a grocery store with Anna until its sale in 1930. Financially secure after the sale, Smith enjoyed a leisure lifestyle filled with hunting, fishing, and attending baseball games. Anna described him as a quiet individual who often joined her in the evenings for pinochle games.
Emil’s aunt told investigators he had flown to New York City for the World Series games on October 3rd and 4th, residing at the Roosevelt Hotel on 45th Street and Madison Avenue. While his stay at the hotel was confirmed, investigators couldn't verify his attendance at the games. His activities during his remaining days in the city were also equally unclear. On October 9th, Emil purchased his plane ticket and flight insurance directly from his hotel desk. His final known movement prior to boarding the aircraft occurred at 2:10 p.m. on October 10. Emil sent a telegram to Anna reading, “Leaving New York today by plane. Everything O.K.”
During a later examination of the wreckage, Emil’s brown paper sack was recovered from among the airplane debris. The contents of the sack were never disclosed, but authorities determined it posed no threat. As a result, Emil was cleared of any involvement in the incident.
The following months saw a flurry of investigative theories, including potential "mob involvement" due to the recent travel of Joseph Keenan, an Assistant Attorney General tasked with investigating organized crime, on United Airlines just days before the crash. However, this theory was swiftly dismissed as implausible.
Pilot dissatisfaction was also explored. A United vice president relayed an indirect threat regarding potential aircraft damage if "scab" pilots were used during a labor dispute. Additionally, the brother of co-pilot A.T. Ruby reported ongoing issues with certain union members. However, after interviews with the alleged source of these threats, and confirmation that labor tensions had subsided by the time of the crash, no evidence of employee sabotage was ever found.
Also interviewed was J.J. Lavin, an American employed by the Chinese Consulate who facilitated wheat shipments from the U.S. to China. Lavin drew suspicion when FBI agents learned he was originally scheduled to be aboard the crashed flight, but had rebooked to a later one. He was reported to have made comments about a bomb causing the crash, supposedly before such information became public. Lavin denied these claims to investigators, though he acknowledged the possibility of such discussions while under the influence of alcohol. He was later eliminated as a suspect.
The investigation continued for two years. Then, on September 20, 1935, FBI director J. Edgar Hoover, declared “all undeveloped leads in this case have been exhausted, and the investigation has not developed any facts which would justify presenting this matter to the United States Attorney. Therefore, this case is being closed.”
The crash of Flight 23 is known as the first proven act of air sabotage in the history of commercial aviation. In addition, the death of Alice Scribner was the first instance of a stewardess dying as a result of an airline crash. When Alice’s younger sister, Velma Scribner, walked down the aisle in 1940, she wore a “handmade peasant frock that had been imported from Paris. Described as eggshell in color, with a bodice smocked at the neckline, it was trimmed with embroidery on the sleeves and front.” The dress had been intended as Alice’s wedding gown.
In 2017, the FBI declassified 324 documents related to the investigation. Unfortunately no new leads were developed. Whoever was responsible for the crash, and their motive, remains a mystery.
Sources
Photos- https://imgur.com/a/PzaAk4z
https://simpleflying.com/united-air-lines-trip-23-cabin-crew-perspective/
https://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local/80-years-later-plane-bombing-remains-a-mystery/1964534/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Air_Lines_Trip_23
https://www.historynet.com/what-happened-to-ual-flight-23/
https://www.chicagomag.com/city-life/september-2011/united-flight-23-to-chicago-the-first-airline-terrorism/
https://www.nj.com/inside-jersey/2013/09/the_mysterious_crash_of_united_23.html

I feel really down right now and could use some people to talk to/vent safely. My doctor is really short with me and I feel like my friends and family don’t understand.
TLDR: my doc recommended phentermine, I’m desperate to lose weight and mentally struggling but scared with my history of yo yo dieting and weight loss/gain that phentermine will just be another thing to hurt my already damaged metabolism.
My doctor recommended I try phentermine but I’m worried I’ll ruin my metabolism or somehow end up worse off in the long run. However mentally I’m desperate to lose this weight, it’s making me depressed.
Currently I’m 32F, 5’3 185lbs. I feel so horrible about myself but I have a complicated history with my body and weight.
As a kid I was a little heavier but not unhealthy overweight. Although I was always larger than many of my friends. I think this was because I never was in sports and was chronically under nourished. I was always hungry.
Once I was on my own at 16/17 I could afford my own food and I reached my heaviest weight of 215lbs. About age 19 I realized I wasn’t healthy and learned all about nutrients, learned how to exercise etc etc. I got down to 150lbs over about a year to 2 year period. Then I worked at a gym for an extended period 5/6 years) where I was super active and had borderline eating disorder because I would deprive myself, lose weight to get to like 135lbs, then over eat, go back to 150lbs etc. it was a cycle of losing and gaining weight. I was always stressing about calorie counting, doing weird fasts, over exercising and completely obsessed with food.
Then about age 25 I went through a divorce. Without even trying I was down to 125lbs. I really enjoyed it, but looking back I did not look healthy. Over a year I gained 10lbs and was a healthier 135lbs. Then… I got pregnant. Through my pregnancy I gave up my diet mentality. I gained 60lbs. When I went to the hospital I was close to 200lbs, but I didn’t care because I was pregnant.
Once cleared to exercise following pregnancy I started counting calories and exercising again. I got down to about 165lbs. Stayed there for about 2 years. Then decided to go “hard”. Dieted more, starved myself with 1200 calorie a day diet, running, insanity workouts etc etc. I managed to get down to 155lbs.
But then I had a major rebound. I felt so sick and so hungry from the months of starvation dieting. Mentally I was sick and couldn’t stand myself and constantly just thinking of food. What can I eat what will I eat next. Just so obsessed and mentally tormented by food constantly.
So I decided to give up dieting again. Within 2 to 3 months my weight shot up to 180lbs. Now I’ve been 180-185lbs for about two years. Last summer I dieted and lost 15lbs but as soon as I stopped dieting I gained it all back. And I hate it. Every time I try to lose weight though by calorie counting or exercising more intense I all of a sudden get that out of control obsession with food. Or I feel so hungry and then don’t lose weight because I’m eating back calories I burn.
It’s just been such a horrible cycle of losing and gaining weight my whole life. I hate where I’m at right now but am so tired mentally of the battle with food/ my body. I tried the last three months to lose weight with exercise and dieting but ended up gaining two pounds (not muscle). So discouraging.
My doctor says I have estrogen dominance so I’m on some progesterone and she recommend a supplement for me. She said my weight is hormonal and recommended phentermine to help me out. But I’m worried because I feel like I already destroyed my metabolism through excessive dieting and yo yo weight loss/gain. Is phentermine going to make that even worse? Or will it possibly help me through and end my obsession with food and my body? I don’t want to be 125lbs again, but 150 would be nice and I’d feel more comfortable and healthy.
Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I’m at a low point and feel like I don’t know what to do.

April 27th
Europe
Premier league (England)
Antonee Robinson (Fulham) Started at LB and went the full 90’ in a 1-1 draw with Crystal Palace (7.1/6.70) 33/47 passing Match Highlights
Chris Richards (Crystal Palace) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 1-1 draw at Fulham (7.3/6.94) 0/1 shot on target, 50/62 passing
Auston Trusty (Sheffield United) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 5-1 loss at Newcastle Utd (6.1/6.65) 18/20 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
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Championship
Haji Wright (Coventry City) Started at LW and played 85‘ in a 0-0 draw at Blackburn Rovers (6.2/6.34) 1/3 shots on target, 12/15 passing Match Highlights
Josh Sargent (Norwich City) Started at ST and went the full 90’ in a 2-2 draw with Swansea City. Scored in the 45th’ (7.7/7.15) 3/9 shots on target, 8/11 passing Match Highlights
Ethan Horvath (Cardiff City) Started at GK and went the full 90’ in a 4-1 loss against Middlesbrough FC (4.8/5.84) 3/7 saving Match Highlights
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League 1
Charlie Kelman (Wigan Athletic on loan from QPR) Subbed on in the 69th‘ in a 2-0 win against Bristol Rovers (6.3/6.12) 2/4 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
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League 2
Vicente Reyes (Forest Green Rovers on loan from Norwich City) Started at GK and went the full 90’ in a 1-0 win against Notts County (7.3/6.99) 1/1 save Match Highlights
Shane McLoughlin (Newport County) Subbed on in the 80th‘ in a 4-1 loss at Bradford City (-/5.93) 12/13 passing Match Highlights
Jeremy Kelly (Crawley Town) Started at LWB and went the full 90’ in a 2-0 win against Grimsby Town. Assisted on the game winner in the 24th’ (8.4/8.45) 23/29 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
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La Liga (Spain)
Luca de la Torre (Celta Vigo) Subbed on in the 53rd‘ in a 3-0 loss at Deportivo Alaves (6.2/6.11) 19/21 passing Match Highlights
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Serie A (Italy)
Christian Pulišić (AC Milan) Started at RW and played 82‘ in a 0-0 draw at Juventus FC (6.9/6.53) 22/23 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
Yunus Musah (AC Milan) Started at RB and played 81‘ in a 0-0 draw at Juventus FC. Picked up a yellow in the 45th’ (7.6/7.25) 0/1 shot on target, 39/43 passing, 1 chance created
Weston Mckennie (Juventus FC) Subbed on in the 70th‘ in a 0-0 draw with AC Milan (6.1/6.23) 1/2 shots on target, 10/14 passing
Timothy Weah (Juventus FC) Started at RWB and played 70‘ in a 0-0 draw with AC Milan (7.1/6.79) 19/24 passing, 1 chance created
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Serie B
Kristoffer Lund (Palermo FC) Started at LWB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 loss against Reggiana (7.3/-) 1/4 shots on target, 35/46 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
Nicholas GIoacchini (Como 1907) Subbed on in the 87th‘ in a 1-1 draw at Sampdoria (-/-) 2/4 passing Match Highlights
Andrija Novakovich (Calcio Lecco 1912 on loan from Venezia FC) Started at ST and played 66‘ in a 4-0 loss at Parma Calcio (6.6/-) 1/2 shots on target, 7/10 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
​
Bundesliga (Germany)
Timothy Chandler (Eintracht Frankfurt) Subbed on in the 87th‘ in a 2-1 loss at Bayern Munich (-/6.00) 1/1 pass Match Highlights
Kevin Paredes (VfL Wolfsburg) Subbed on in the 45th‘ in a 2-1 win at Freiburg (6.5/6.24) 0/1 shot on target, 12/14 passing
​
2. Bundesliga
Johan Gómez (Eintracht Braunschweig) Started at RST and played 75‘ in a 4-0 loss against Hamburger SV (6.2/6.21) 8/10 passing Match Highlights
​
3. Liga
Joe-Joe Richardson (SV Sandhausen) Subbed on in the 46th‘ in a 3-1 loss at MSV Duisburg (-/-) Match Highlights
Jalen Hawkins (SV Waldhof Mannheim) Subbed on in the 85th‘ and off in the 90th’ in a 1-1 draw at SC Verl (-/-) Match Highlights
Terrence Boyd (SV Waldhof Mannheim) Started at ST and played 85‘ in a 1-1 draw at SC Verl. Assisted in the 5th’
Santiago Castaneda (MSV Duisburg) Started at CDM and went the full 90’ in a 3-1 win against SV Sandhausen. Picked up a yellow in the 90th’
Kaan Inanoğlu (MSV Duisburg) Subbed on in the 61st‘ in a 3-1 win against SV Sandhausen
Justin Butler (Borussia Dortmund II) Subbed on in the 75th‘ in a 2-2 draw with Erzgebirge Aue (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Ligue 1 (France)
Emmanuel Sabbi (Le Havre) Started at LW and played 90‘ in a 3-3 draw at PSG. Assisted in the 19th’ (7.9/7.66) 9/11 passing,1 chance created Match Highlights
​
Jupiler Pro League (Belgium)
Griffin Yow (KVC Westerlo) Subbed on in the 64th‘ in a 3-2 loss at Gent (6.4/6.33) 0/1 shot on target, 5/5 passing, 2 chances created
Kahveh Zahiroleslam (St. Truiden) Started at ST and played 66‘ in a 1-1 draw at Standard Liege. Picked up a yellow in the 23rd’ (6.4/6.44) 0/1 shot on target, 12/16 passing, 1 chance created
​
Premier League (Scotland)
Dante Polvara (Aberdeen FC) Started at LCM and went the full 90’ in a 1-0 win against Motherwell (7.9/-) 0/1 shot on target, 29/36 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
Scott Pittman (Livingston FC) Started at LM and went the full 90’ in a 2-0 win against Ross County (6.8/-) 20/27 passing Match Highlights
​
2.Liga (Austrian 2nd Division)
Bryan Okoh (FC Liefering on loan from RB Salzburg) Started at RB and went the full 90’ in a 0-0 draw at Admira Moedling (-/-)
​
1.Divisjon (Norwegian 2nd Division)
Chris Hegardt (Stabaek) Subbed on in the 66th‘ in a 2-2 draw at Aasane (-/-) Match Highlights
Thomas Roberts (Stabaek) Started at RCM and went the full 90’ in a 2-2 draw at Aasane. Assisted in the 16th’
Ian Hoffmann (Moss FK) Started at LB and played 86‘ in a 2-1 loss against Egersund (-/-)
​
Liga HaAl (Israel)
El Yam Kancepolsky (Hapoel Tel Aviv) Subbed on in the 80th‘ in a 5-1 loss against Beitar Jerusalem (-/-) Match Highlights
​
1.HNL (Croatia)
Rokas Pukštas (Hajduk Split) Started at RCM and went the full 90’ in a 5-1 win against Rudes. Scored in the 4th’ and 26th’ (8.3/-) 2/7 shots on target, 15/17 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
​
Superettan (Swedish 2nd Division)
Marcelo Palomino (GIF Sundsvall) Subbed on in the 55th‘ in a 1-1 draw with Varbergs BoIS FC (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Ekstraklasa (Poland)
Ben Lederman (Raków Częstochowa) Subbed on in the 46th‘ in a 1-0 win at Widzew Lodz (6.7/-) 26/31 passing Match Highlights
​
Fortuna 1 Liga
Szymon Lyczko (Stal Rzeszów) Started at RW and played 83‘ in a 4-2 win against Lechia Gdańsk (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Fortuna Liga (Slovakia)
Zyen Jones (FC Kosice) Started at RW and played 79‘ in a 2-0 loss against Zlate Moravce (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Veikkausliiga (Finland)
Justin Rennicks (AC Oulu) Started at LW and played 63‘ in a 2-1 loss against VPS (-/-) Match Highlights
​
NIFL Premiership (Northern Ireland)
Jaziel Orozco (Larne FC on loan from Real Salt Lake) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 5-0 win against Coleraine (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Kategoria Superiore (Albania)
Xhelil Asani (KF Erzeni) Started at LB and played 81‘ in a 1-0 loss at Skenderbeu. Picked up a yellow in the 80th’ (-/-) Match Highlights
​
South America
Liga 1 (Peru)
Claudio Torrejón (Club Cienciano) Started at RCM and played 82‘ in a 2-0 loss at Cusco FC (-/-) Match Highlights
​
April 28th
Europe
Premier league (England)
Giovanni Reyna (Nottingham Forest on loan from Borussia Dortmund) Subbed on in the 73rd‘ in a 2-0 loss against Manchester City (6.1/6.06) 5/7 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
​
La Liga (Spain)
Johnny (Real Betis) Started at LCM and went the full 90’ in a 1-1 draw with Sevilla. Picked up a yellow in the 90th‘ (7.8/6.84) 1/3 shots on target, 28/32 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
​
Segunda Division
Konrad de la Fuente (SD Eibar on loan from Olympique Marseille) Subbed on in the 77th‘ in a 2-1 loss at Albacete Balompié (6.1/-) 3/3 passing
​
Bundesliga (Germany)
Brenden Aaronson (Union Berlin on loan from Leeds Utd) Started at RCM and played 73‘ in a 0-0 draw at Borussia Mönchengladbach (6.7/6.65) 2/2 shots on target, 25/32 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
Joe Scally (Borussia Mönchengladbach) Started at LWB and went the full 90’ in a 0-0 draw with Union Berlin (6.5/6.62) 0/1 shot on target, 21/26 passing, 1 chance created
Jordan Pefok (Borussia Mönchengladbach on loan from Union Berlin) Subbed on in the 87th‘ in a 0-0 draw with Union Berlin (-/6.02)
Damion Downs (FC Köln) Subbed on in the 61st‘ in a 1-1 draw at Mainz 05 (5.9/6.05) 4/5 passing Match Highlights
​
2. Bundesliga
Maximilian Dietz (SpVgg Greuther Fürth) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 5-3 win at Wehen Wiesbaden (6.4/6.05) 82/87 passing Match Highlights
Nathaniel Brown (FC Nürnberg on loan from Eintracht Frankfurt) Subbed on in the 64th‘ in a 1-0 loss against Karlsruher SC (5.8/6.05) 0/1 shot on target, 8/10 passing Match Highlights
​
3. Liga
Mansour Ouro-Tagba (1860 Munich) Subbed on in the 61st‘ in a 2-0 loss at Unterhaching. Picked up a yellow in the 90th’ (-/-) Match Highlights
Bryang Kayo (FC Ingolstadt) Subbed on in the 46th‘ in a 4-0 loss at RW Essen (-/-) Match Highlights
Isaiah Young (RW Essen) Subbed on in the 24th‘ in a 4-0 win against FC Ingolstadt
​
Eredivisie (Netherlands)
Taylor Booth (FC Utrecht) Subbed on in the 72nd’‘ in a 2-2 draw at RKC Waalwijk (6.3/6.32) 6/7 passing
Paxten Aaronson (Vitesse on loan from Eintracht Frankfurt) Started at CDM and went the full 90’ in a 3-2 win against Fortuna Sittard. Won player of the match by scoring in the 22nd’ and 75th’ (9.0/8.42) 3/4 shots on target, 20/28 passing, 1 chance created
Philippe Sandler (NEC Nijmegen) Started at RCB and played 23‘ in a 3-0 loss against AZ Alkmaar (6.2/6.12) 22/23 passing
Deron Payne (FC Volendam) Subbed on in the 62nd’‘ in a 1-0 loss at Sparta Rotterdam (6.1/5.94) 11/17 passing
Zach Booth (FC Volendam on loan from Leicester City) Started at RW and went the full 90’ in a 1-0 loss at Sparta Rotterdam (6.0/6.28) 1/4 shots on target, 14/19 passing
​
Ligue 1 (France)
Folarin Balogun (AS Monaco) Started at LST and played 45‘ in a 3-2 loss at Lyon. Assisted in the 1st’ (6.7/6.10) 0/1 shot on target, 5/9 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
​
Jupiler Pro League (Belgium)
Mark McKenzie (KRC Genk) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 3-0 loss against Club Bruges (5.1/5.24) 0/1 shot on target, 61/71 passing, 1 error led to goal
​
Premier League (Scotland)
Cameron Carter-Vickers (Celtic FC) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 win at Dundee FC (7.7/-) 0/1 shot on target, 55/68 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
​
Bundesliga (Austria)
George Bello (LASK) Started at LB and played 83‘ in a 5-0 win against Rapid Wien (7.2/-) 0/1 shot on target, 26/31 passing Match Highlights
Sebastian Soto (SK Austria Klagenfurt) Subbed on in the 90th‘ in a 3-2 loss at Hartberg (-/-) 0/1 pass Match Highlights
​
Eliteserien (Norway)
Samuel Rogers (Hamarkameratene on loan from Lillestrøm SK) Subbed on in the 61st‘ in a 1-1 draw at Lillestrom (6.8/-) 0/1 shot on target, 27/31 passing Match Highlights
Michael Lansing (Kristiansund BK) Started at GK and went the full 90’ in a 2-2 draw at Stromsgodset (6.1/-) 4/6 saving Match Highlights
​
Superettan (Swedish 2nd Division)
Arquímedes Ordoñez (Ostersund FK on loan from Cincinnati FC) Started at ST and went the full 90’ in a 0-0 draw at Helsingborg. Picked up a yellow in the 26th’ (-/-) Match Highlights
Erik McCue (Örebro SK) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 win against IK Brage (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Nemzeti Bajnokság I (Hungary)
Henry Wingo (Ferencvárosi TC) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 win at MTK Budapest (-/-)
​
Kategoria Superiore (Albania)
Gledi Mici (KF Tirana) Started at RCB and played 59‘ in a 2-1 loss against Partizani. Picked up a yellow in the 48th’ (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Prva Makedonska Fudbalska Liga (North Macedonia)
Adrien (Tikves) Subbed on in the 67th‘ in a 3-2 loss at Shkupi. Picked up a yellow in the 90th’ (-/-) Match Highlights
Keith Larson (Makedonija) Started at LW and played 46‘ in a 1-1 draw at Rabotnicki. Scored their goal in the 45th’ (-/-)
​
South America
LigaPro Serie A (Ecuador)
Michael Hoyos (Independiente del Valle) Started at ST and played 68‘ in a 1-0 win at Imbabura SC (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Primera División (Uruguay)
Matias Fracchia (Danubio FC) Subbed on in the 74th‘ in a 5-3 win at Miramar Misiones (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Past week's Post

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

First Previous
A series of six loud ‘thumps’ fired out from my tortoise's position and all across no-man’s-land explosions detonated, taking clusters of drones with them. Unfortunately the shots are not as accurate as I would have preferred but I suppose I should have expected that since they were moving targets. Once the last of my first tortoises shells fired out, my next mortar tortoise began taking its place and started firing off their own barrage of munitions while the first began rearming with the help of a handful of spiders who split up and placed the mortar shells into the feeder two at a time, just about finishing their work as the second tortoise finished firing their last round. Looking out into the field, I watched as explosions continued to mark the area and was glad to see as the enemy forces seemed to slow under the weight of the bombardment which made things all the better.
The largest of the drones were getting particularly targeted due to their apparent higher value along with the fact that they were significantly easier to hit given their size and slower speeds. The one thing I was slightly upset about was the fact that my ranged drones were still a bit too far to begin hitting the enemy drones themselves; however, I dared not send them out of the defensive line as the enemy fliers quickly approached my lines unhindered by the bombardment happening underneath their wings. Ordering my ranged drones to watch the skies and open fire the moment they get into range, I made sure that my melee drones were ready to either fight off enemy fliers who attempt to swoop down and pick off my ranged drones or, in the case of my few vultures and woodpeckers, prepared to fly out and engage the enemy in the skies as well.
Looking back down onto ground level, I saw that despite the ongoing bombardment the enemy drones were still slogging through in concerning numbers having been able to spread out enough to the point that my mortar tortoise's shots would be ineffective. Regardless the shelling was still thinning out their numbers which would surely be invaluable once things start going ploin shaped and the big melee begins. Speaking of which, just about when the enemy ground drones reached the minimum engagement distance for my ranged drones, the enemy fliers began diving down into range before their own hornets began opening fire on my drone positions. Thankfully the majority of my drones were sitting behind some nice and sturdy cover which protected them from the deadly spikes however my tortoises were not as fortunate due to their increased size.
My own ranged drones were able to shoot down a few of the enemy hornets before they got into range of my mortars and my vultures and woodpeckers shot up to hopefully distract them as well however more than a few slipped past and fired off their spikes into one of my tortoises midsection. The tortoise in question seized up and crumpled to the ground as a large percentage of their core circuitry was damaged or destroyed upon getting impaled by the many spikes shot into it. A standard tortoise may have been able to survive the beating however, due to the mortar tortoises substantially lowered armored capacity, the spikes penetrated right through the little armor the tortoise had left and wreaked havoc upon their systems. Ordering my fliers to engage the enemy hornets in full haste, I similarly ordered for my ranged drones to cover them and engage enemy fliers at their discretion.
As my vultures and woodpeckers darted about and slammed into the remaining enemy hornets, my ground based drones began engaging the enemy melee troops as they emerged from the minimum firing distance in groups of two and three. My two remaining tortoises, deciding that this was probably going to be the last opportunity to have targets not danger close to friendly forces, quickly began emptying their shell racks as quickly as they could and consequently I was surprised when the area in a dozen feet in front of me suddenly became a ball of fire. Similar occurrences popped up all across the line as my mortars dumped munitions as fast as their systems would let them before hightailing out of here now that they were no longer able to contribute to the battle.
Regardless, my air units continued to hound the enemy hornets since they were still probably the most dangerous enemy force currently present although they were meeting fierce resistance from enemy fliers and the hornets themselves despite my ranged drones best efforts. My woodpeckers were probably doing the most work proportionally to their weight as they engaged the enemy drones with a speedy ferocity and their smaller size made it so that they were quite difficult to get a blow onto them, let alone a ranged shot. Due to their work, the enemy hornets seemed just a bit too preoccupied to finish reloading their spike launchers and begin turning their weapons against my ground drones who were now facing the bulk of the enemy force.
With my tortoises no longer slowing the enemy troops down and forcing them to take cover and spread out, the hostile drones had taken the time to quickly reorganize into clusters while my ranged drones were focused on handling the enemy air units. As such, the enemy drones renewed charge was substantially more successful than their initial scattered wave had been, even if that was not saying all too much. My infantry drones managed to hold the line as they continued to take cover behind the constructed defenses and only poked out of them in order to quickly damage the closest enemy drone before the hostile ground based ranged troops could manage to get a lock on them. Diverting some of my hornets and scorpions from firing at the enemy fliers, I directed them at the now more threatening enemy ground force now pushing against my own troops.
As a few of my scorpions fired from behind cover into a cluster of enemy drones, I noticed that one of the beams was a dark red and realized that that must have been one of the newer and more lethal scorpions. Watching as the red beam slammed into a hostile ant, I was happy to see that the beam punched through the drones armor and made a bloody mess of their internal components which in turn was the killing blow. Looking back at my scorpions, I noticed that while all of the scorpions were emitting jets of steam in an effort to cool off their beam cannons, the modified one was blowing off the most steam whilst also digging into the ground further as the first shot had pushed it back a bit. Other, similar occurrences were happening all across the line as red and blue streaks of light lanced through the air as my scorpions fired off and were promptly fired at by some of the enemy’s scorpions who thankfully did not have the lethal variation.
Looking out at the battlefield and how the enemy ground troops were starting to clump up together in order to maximize the pressure that they were putting on my drone defenders, I issued an order to my worms to take advantage of their mistake and break up those formations a bit. Watching as my worms quickly took up positions before bursting through the ground in the middle of the enemy formation and wreaking havoc on the enemy position giving my drones the opportunity to strike their now utterly confused counterparts which they promptly did so. Under the cover of the massive distraction which the mess which my worms were creating, my various infantry drones broke cover and charged the dazed and confused enemies and shoved them back out of any footholds that they may have been able to gain during their push.
They were met with some resistance from the enemy drones at the very front of the formation however beyond that the rest of the hostile drones were all too focused on the worms tearing their way through them to care. Speaking of which, my worms were taking a substantial amount of damage during their attack run as nearly the entirety of the enemy force focused down on them and so I ordered them to fall back which was probably for the best given that losing them in the process of only dealing a handful more casualties would not be the best use of their lives. Plus, the damage had been done as their drills had taking more than a dozen enemy drones down and the countercharge made by my infantry had done well at punching through a fair amount of the enemy troops before they needed to fall back behind the defenses now that their distractions were retreating and enemy ranged troops were beginning to divert fire their way.
The losses which the enemy force had incurred would surely be damming however they continued to throw themselves against my drone line which was steadily losing combat effective drones one by one even if we took them down nearly twice as fast. The battle in the sky was doing somewhat better with nearly all of the enemy fliers having been taken out by my own airborne drones along with ground support fire from my ranged drones. Unfortunately this has come at the cost of a large amount of my vultures and woodpeckers who were quickly whittled down as they engaged their counterparts. The quicker the air battle concluded, the faster I would be able to divert the rest of my hornet fire onto the enemy ground troops and with that in mind, I ordered any of my drones to divert fire to the enemy fliers and end the air battle as quickly as they could manage.
My remaining vultures and woodpeckers swooped in and slammed into the last of the hostile hornets and nearly the entirety of my ranged force opened up on the still lingering enemy airborne drones which managed to take out the vast majority of them at the cost of leaving my melee drones without any fire support to help them whether the still ever present enemy waves crashing down on them. It payed off however as my vultures and woodpeckers still in the fight were able to quickly mop up the last of the hostile aerial drones allowing me to finally divert all of my drones onto firing on the main enemy contingent and right in the nick of time as the few large drones that had managed to survive the bombardment preformed my mortar tortoises emerged from the ruins and properly joined the fight.
Just as the bulk of my ranged drones opened fire on the enemy air units, a pair of crabs and a tortoise marched onto the front of the enemy lines and promptly began tearing apart the defenses my construction team spent so long constructing and maintaining but thankfully I was not as under equipped as I was the last time I had to fight large drones as I ordered my ranged drones to pick their targets and open fire when ready. Commanding my one standard tortoise to take up a defensive position mirroring the enemy tortoise along with my other melee drones to buy some time for my ranged drones to rearm and cool down. I similarly directed my flight capable drones to engage the enemy's own scorpions who have been taking potshots at my troops for too long. Thankfully they were far enough away from any other hostile drones that could possibly give any support meaning my last vultures and woodpeckers could attack the enemy scorpions without worrying about getting swarmed.
Focusing back on the hostile large drones currently bearing down on my drones defensive positions, I noticed that the drones in question had not made it out of the bombardment as healthy as I first assumed. Now that they were closer, I could pick out a multitude of sections in their hull where shrapnel had pierced and where whole chunks of their armor had been broken off which boded well for my rearming ranged volley. But until then my drones would have to hold them back and that was proving to be a rather difficult task as the size difference between my drones and their opponents were starting to show as the enemy large drones continued to pulverize the constructed cover my drones were hiding behind forcing them to either relocate or fight exposed against the rest of the hostile drones.
The hostile force despite their losses continued to push against my drones who fought valiantly despite casualties of our own however despite my tortoises best efforts, the enemy large drones were pushing them back along with the rest of my troops and things were starting to look grim. Checking how long it would take for my ranged drones to be able to open fire again, they reported that they still needed just short of a minute before fire support could be administered. This I figured would not be fast enough as some of my infantry drones were reporting a spike in losses now that they were stuck in the fight and that they would not be able to sustain this kind of engagement for long. I was about to order my drones to begin falling back in chunks in a bid to buy a bit more time for my ranged drones to get another batch of shots off when I spotted something in my peripheral vision.
Snapping my head towards whatever I had seen, I managed to spot a cluster of figures flying through the sky in the direction of my outpost. Squinting harder, I watched as the cluster of figures quickly became more defined and soon enough I was able to recognize the markings and partial blue glow across the drones which I could now see were vultures. The Flock! They must have come from the new nesting ground that they had been setting up for the past few days. With their help we should be able to turn the tide. Informing my drones of the incoming reinforcements, they began fighting with renewed vigor now that they had a chance to make it out of this on the winning side. As the Flock reinforcements quickly approached my outpost, my drones managed to push the enemy drones back out of the defensive line which was looking more like a bunch of randomly placed rubble and the enemy crab drones were even dissuaded from pushing up as the first of my scorpions began opening up and stunning down the large drones.
My more lethal scorpions and hornets were still rearming when the vultures from the Flock arrived to the battle and, as it turns out, they had brought a few friends with them as they dropped a half dozen fire beetles into the middle of the enemy formation detonating in an air burst for maximum damage. The enemy large drones managed to get through the detonations relatively unscathed with only minor damage to their unarmored sections of their hull, with the exception of one of the crabs who lost a few of their legs to the blast, however the remaining chaff drones had taken some serious casualties which my own drones took advantage upon. Now that they had delivered their payload, the Flock vultures took liberty of the chaos and began joining my other vultures in charging into the last of the quickly dwindling enemy ranged drones.
As they began tearing apart the enemy back liners, the last of my lethal ranged drones finished cooling down and reloading which they promptly took advantage of as they pumped the entirety of their rounds into the three large drones. My modified scorpion's red hot beams slammed into the armored shell of the single enemy tortoise and after a second or two of continuous focus it managed to melt through the armor and cut into the insides of the enemy drone making it an easy target for the rest of my drones. The majority of my hornets fire was split between the two crabs with a bit of priority given to the one still standing on all of its legs and their spikes punched through the comparatively thinner armor and destroyed them outright with their now lifeless corpse crashing down onto nearby drones.
With their core units being destroyed and casualties just starting to register, the enemy forces began to rout whilst being hounded down by vengeful troops. And just to put salt in an open wound, I noticed as the mortar tortoise which I once thought completely destroyed used the last of its energy to shift it’s mortar to point in the direction of the fleeing enemy drones and pop off the last of its shells likely causing a handful more drones to lie dead on the crater filled field. As soon as the last of the enemy drones left direct sightlines, a small wave of spider repair drones charged down from the inside of the outpost and began tending to the mountain of wounded and dying drones in an effort to save as many of them as possible before they succumb to their injuries.
Looking around, I could easily see that more than half of my drones would be out of commission for the foreseeable future as it would take at least the better half of a day in order for my spider drones to fully patch them all up. Although it is not like I am planning to push up and out of the outpost anytime soon, taking the corrupted AI’s territory is nice and all however I would not gain all too much from pushing forward especially if Churn cannot push up with me given the fact that my force would still stand no chance if the bulk of the enemies attention is diverted to me. Sitting back down against one of the defensive barricades, I shoo off a few spiders who were checking me for damage with the pretense that their time would be better spent on the rest of my drones. I just hope that wasn’t only the first wave of hornets now that I’ve kicked their nest.
Next
Apologies for the unscheduled pause in posts, didn't have enough time to write this week as i would have liked.

Last Friday I took my first shot of Ozempic. This Friday I started walking. Now let me tell you about me. I'm 45 and live a very sedimentary lifestyle. I'm very over weight and have put my foot down to take back my life. I'm the biggest I've ever been at 330lbs. I have had a treadmill for about a year and just put it up because it was to hard, I know it was a cop out but no more. Well about a month ago I came to the realization that if I want to be here for a while longer I have got to take better care of me. Spoke to my Dr about it she suggested I start Ozempic and a keto diet. So. Last Friday I started the medication and the diet. This Friday I pulled my treadmill out and started walking on it. I'm only able to go for 5 mins before I feel like I'm going to die. I think I have a plan. This week in going to push myself to do 5 mins every day. I know it doesn't seem like much but I'm so out of shape. Starting next Friday I'm gonna go up to 6 mins but hope for longer. What ever my time is on Friday thats what that weeks goal is. I don't have unrealistic weight loss goals. I'm shooting for 280 once I get there I'll set another goal. Is there anything anyone can think of that will help me on this journey. I'm going to do it. It's hard, it's really hard but damn it I'm not going to stop.

Not wanting to commit a war crime of baring my body in a speedo or muster up the courage to visit gay spaces again and travel to, say, Fire Island only to be shot down by a harpoon and laced by a fishing net, I want a beach body. Unfortunately, while I have the right mind to exercise, dieting and food are my weaknesses. I know what to weed out, however, but it's a matter of warding off those vices. To accomplish that, my motto will be, "Think about the fact that your chin will have more bags than Macy's".
My job has a gym that I have frequented, but my workouts and fitness routines are pretty underwhelming and basic. I just walk out on a treadmill for 30-45 minutes (though I sweat a lot), then given I live within walking distance from my job, I then walk home. Following that are mobility and flexibility exercises so my body doesn't remain stiff (I used to do martial arts - Tae Kwon Do - in college and have looked into returning to that or proceeding with Judo).
That said, my chronic illness is my main priority as my doctors have stressed that weight loss could alleviate me from needing blood pressure medicines as well as my other physical and mental health issues. Otherwise, my next goal is to overcome my body dysmorphia, body and face-wise, and I'm seeking help from other fit people in order to achieve a decent appearance for summer and Pride season.

Warning: long
Domino is a foster fail. She came to us in 2018 with four two-week-old kittens, starving and terrified with birth fluid still all over her flanks. Most of her face was hairless from the stress. We took such joy in watching her recovery; watching her gain weight and grow in hair and play with her babies. She was such a good mommy! We ended up adopting her and her two girls, while her boys went to my best friend.
She was so grateful to be safe with her babies. She never stopped showing it. She's the most affectionate sweetheart I've ever met.
Last year, we noticed she was losing weight and having trouble eating. She was diagnosed with Feline Stomatitis, an autoimmune disease that affects the tissues of her mouth. It's gum disease, yes, but it also causes ulcers and lesions in her throat and the top of her mouth. Her teeth are healthy, but eating is painful. Swallowing at all is painful. There is no real cure, and the condition is described in veterinary journals as "excruciating."
As far as I can tell, the best option is to remove all her teeth, but even if we could afford the surgery, there's a 30-40% chance it won't work. She could still end up suffering with no teeth at all. Our vet doesn't want to do this because her teeth are healthy.
She's barely six.
Our current treatment plan is steroid and antibiotic injections every few months. We've done three rounds. One to get the infection under control, then a tooth cleaning (which she didn't really end up needing), then a follow up/booster round a week after the cleaning. This would hopefully give her up to six months of relief.
It's easy to tell when the infection is coming back. Domino is a lover anyway, and I think she gets some relief from rubbing her gums on us. When her disease is active, the saliva she leaves behind is putrescent. It reeks of rot and infection. The first round of treatments ended up lasting a little over four months. This last one was just six weeks ago, and the smell is already coming back.
I can deal with a stinky animal, but I can't deal with knowing that if I can smell it, she's hurting, badly. And I know we've just started, but the drop off in treatment effectiveness was startling. Every visit/set of shots is around $130, and even if we did it once a month, wouldn't all those antibiotics just destroy her immune system? She's lost so much weight (maybe 5.5 lbs now?) even on an all-wet diet, and she's constantly got the sniffles.
I'm at a loss for alternatives. Given our financial constraints and the evident ineffectiveness of the treatment plan, the answer seems painfully obvious. I'm not ready to give up yet, we'll definitely be seeing the vet again this week. But if we can't stop her pain...
Does anyone have experience with successful treatment for Stomatitis? I read a study that said pro/prebiotics may help in some cases. No dice so far, but I'm willing to try other ideas. She barely eats and won't take pills without fighting for her life.
Tldr: Young cat with an excruciating autoimmune disease. Hoping to find someone with experience, or maybe just some solace.

I have been on Ozempic since December for weight loss. Started at 301 lbs, now down to 269 lbs. I started at .25mg and every 4 weeks went up another .25mg until I reached 1 mg. Once on 1mg for awhile, I found that my weight loss plateaued. Luckily, I did not have a single side effect during this timeframe. Because my weight loss was at a plateau, my doctor wanted me to increase to 1.5 mg. I did that for two weeks and had no side effects. Then, the morning after my third shot of 1.5mg, I was throwing up and having non-stop diarrhea for days.
I am wondering if anyone else experienced the same when they increased to a higher dose, especially after having no issues previously. I am a bit nervous to take my next shot tomorrow evening, as I was sidelined for 5 days.

Lifetime - Staked: 865.9u, Profit/Loss: +28.08u, ROI: 3.24%, Parlay Suggestions: 164-63 Dog of the Week: 13-14
2024 - Staked: 218.8u, Profit/Loss: -5.28, ROI: -2.41%
As always, scroll down for UFC 301 Breakdowns. The following is just a recap of last event’s results.
UFC Vegas 91 (PREVIOUS CARD)
Staked: 8.5u
Profit/Loss: -0.29u
Parlay Suggestions: 2-3
Definitely not my best work there, but a testament to why hedging is an important tool to utilise when possible because it bailed me out of some bad bets. Thanks to those early moves, I managed to reduce my losses a lot more, so I’m happy with the overall results despite actually getting most of my bets wrong here. Onama’s ability to hit that reversal from back control was ridiculous, and if Pearce addressed that I think he would have been just fine. Guskov was a nice hit. Nicolau getting flatlined was not.
❌ 2u Matheus Nicolau to Win at -170
✅ 1u Bogdan Guskov to Win at +175 (won +1.75u)
❌ 1u Jonathan Pearce to Win at -140
❌ 1u Jonathan Pearce to Win & Over 1.5 Rounds at +150
❌ 1u Maheshate to Win by KO/TKO at +150
✅ 2u Liang/Petrovic FDGTD & Means/Medic FDGTD at -105 (won +1.9u)
❌ 0.25u Na Liang to Win in Round 1 at +1200
❌ 0.25u Parlay Pieces at +633
✅ Mayes/Machado Arb (won +0.63u)
✅ Silva/Lipski Arb (won +0.93u)
​
UFC 301
We really were spoiled by UFC 299 and UFC 300, because this PPV looks anaemic in comparison. I guess it’s mainly because those events used up some of Brazil’s biggest names (Pereira, Figgy, Moicano, Andrade, Jailton, Marina, Lopes, Burns), and these kinds of cards are always Brazil vs the World (my favourite kind of style of card). I’m still looking forward to it compared to the typical Apex garbage though=, so no complaints from me!
It didn’t take long to realise that this card has been curated to be very Brazilian friendly. I am absolutely not one of these conspiracy theorists who thinks the UFC is rigged, but I think it’s very important when betting to ask yourself WHY this fight was booked (especially for PPVs). The UFC’s business model runs off creating stars and generating hype (the existence of DWCS proves this), so these kind of cards are the perfect opportunity to do that. The matchmakers are literally paid to make decisions on who fights who, so none of this stuff is accidental. If you’re familiar with my history as an MMA Trader, you’ll know that thinking about public perception is where my skills lie, so I’m always excited for PPVs because there’s extra narrative in a lot of the fights.
Let’s get into it!
​
Alexandre Pantoja v Steve Erceg
This is a very weird main event. The Flyweight division is starting to fade again, as its top 15 is littered with fighters who have either shown their ceiling is below championship quality, or guys who aren’t active enough to be given title shots. Erceg has managed to bag himself a title shot from 11th in the rankings, despite having only three fights in the company. Aside from fighters coming into the organisation with a strong reputation in combat sports, or women’s divisions, I can’t think of a fighter who has made their way to a title shot quicker than Erceg has in recent years.
Historically, I bet on Pantoja against most opponents because I’ve always been convinced he’s been championship calibre, and has multiple paths to victory every time. I have tried to fade Erceg mostly due to the rapid stepping up in competition, but I also bet him against Costa.
I know there’s a bit of a theme with me being non-committal towards betting on title fights (except Pereira last event, hehe), but I think this is probably an acceptable fight to shrug my shoulders at – purely because of the unknowns regarding Erceg. I don’t really think you can look at his performance against Alessandro Costa or David Dvorak and come away with any conclusion regarding his chances against Pantoja. I guess you could take something from the opening five minutes against Schnell…but that’s still not a great comparison because Schnell’s biggest weakness is still Pantoja’s biggest strength (chin/durability)?
On the flipside, what we do know about Erceg is that some of his best strengths are actually in the areas that Pantoja looks to exploit. The Brazilian is one of the most durable fighters in MMA history, having never been finished in 32 professional bouts – 14 of which took place in the UFC. He weaponizes that by pushing a pace and creating chaos that he knows he can be the more durable fighter in. Aside from that, he’s also got an elite submission game, and his grappling is top notch. His striking certainly isn’t bad either.
But, as I said, that doesn’t sound as much of a nightmare for Erceg as it does for a lot of other guys. Steve’s done most of his work in the UFC on the feet, where he has shown some very impressive durability (and on the regional scene). People also therefore forget that he’s primarily a grappler also, having six submissions on his record. Of course I expect him to be inferior to Pantoja in both areas, but I don’t see him getting steamrolled like Perez, Royval (1) or Schnell did.
So whilst there are still a hell of a lot of unknowns about Erceg, what we do know is enough to predict that this is unlikely to be Pantoja’s most dominant win. If the Brazilian can’t get finishes against an opponent, he has to rely on his minute winning ability. Whilst those are still very good skills (and enough to get the better of Brandon Moreno!), it’s definitely the way he can be exploited the most (a 9-5 record in fights that go the distance, to quantify that belief).
So in short, despite not having much confidence in my line here, I have to grade Pantoja as less of a favourite than the books currently do, but a favourite nonetheless. Erceg’s ceiling is still unknown, but logic would dictate that this is too much too soon. It’s therefore no bet from me on the moneyline, but my belief in Erceg’s durability will obviously lead me to consider the overs in this fight. Not too sure what I expect to see here but if the FGTD is plus money then I’ll probably get involved somehow. Keep an eye on the bet list at the bottom of the post to see what/if I bet.
How I line this fight: Alexandre Pantoja -188 (65%), Steve Erceg +188 (35%)
Bet or pass: I may look at the overs, but the ML is a pass
Prop leans: None
​
Jonathan Martinez v Jose Aldo
Second fight, second non-committal stance, I’m afraid. I know this one is around a pick’em, and I know it’s super interesting…but do any of you train with Jose Aldo or know him personally? If not, I don’t think any of us have even the slightest clue how he’s going to look in the cage after almost two years on the sidelines. Yes, he’s been boxing, which gives some positive signs that he’s still keeping in some sort of shape – but he drew with Jeremy Stephens and beat two guys with combined pro records of 0-9-1. Hardly enough to believe he’ll be as sharp as when he was an active UFC fighter.
Jonathan Martinez on the other hand is eight years younger than Jose Aldo, and in his athletic/career prime. He’s currently riding a six-fight winning streak that includes wins over Said Nurmagomedov and Adrian Yanez. He’s a very well-rounded fighter that uses leg kicks to great effect, as is typical from a Factory X homegrown talent. He’s also been criminally underrated in these last few years after the shock loss to Davey Grant. Dude was -105 against Zviad Lazishvili (who even is that?), and both of the aforementioned wins.
Unfortunately for Martinez, Aldo is not going to lose out to the leg kicking game, instead he may be the one landing the significant leg strikes there. That kind of takes away one of Martinez’s most reliable weapons, which makes this one even more interesting.
Other than that, I genuinely don’t know what more to say. Logic and history tells us that the younger and more conditioned Martinez should win here, but if Aldo manages to find a special Brazilian doctor of some sort, or if he just ends up being fortunate that father time is generous to him, then the Jose Aldo we know and love should confidently beat Jonathan Martinez.
Who wins this fight? I have no idea. Neither do you. That’s why it’s a pick’em. Don’t think about it anymore than that. Just pass and enjoy watching the questions get answered inside the cage.
How I line this fight: No idea.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
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Paul Craig v Caio Borralho
Hell yeah, I love it when we get fights like this. Guys I rate very highly and always look to bet, vs guys I think are massively overrated and always look to fade. In case it wasn’t obvious, Craig is the fade and Borralho is the prospect.
I have a lot of love and respect for Paul Craig. He’s long been one of the most successful and inspiring UK fighters – and his fights at various UFC Londons have often been the highlight of the entire events. Also, the man has an exquisite music taste - his walkout song choices always result in me finding new bands and albums to listen to. Thanks for that Paul!
But in terms of in-cage ability…he’s as one dimensional as it gets. His style is pretty much identical to Royce Gracie in the earliest UFC days. He has an elite submission game, but everything else in his skillset is hugely inferior, which will always limit him. Statistically, I rate all of his skills at a 3, but his pure submission game as a 9.
It’s been really fun to see the UFC booking Craig in fights that allow him to show his best work (as opposed to the Volkan Oezdemir fight, which was painful to watch), but MMA is much more complex than sheer submission ability. Against Muniz he was victorious because he was actually the superior striker, and also had the superior cardio that night…but the fight against Brendan Allen showed those limitations again. Going back to those aforementioned skillset rankings, Craig was inferior in every area of MMA, but he was matched or even trumped by Allen’s BJJ too. In short, I knew that Craig had no consistent way of winning that fight, and needed a high variance Hail Mary. I bet Allen quite confidently there.
And that conclusion is the exact same one I come to here. Caio Borralho is actually a severely underrated wrestler, and that is what makes him so great. I have no doubt that his wrestling is superior to Craig’s, which will result in more top control time for the Brazilian. Of course, Caio is an elite BJJ fighter himself, so like Allen and Muniz before him, I’m not worried about Craig’s offence from guard.
So the only other ways I see Craig winning this fight are the same as the Muniz fight, via superior striking or cardio. Right off the bat, I don’t think Craig’s a better striker than Caio (though it’s competitive enough), and the aforementioned wrestling success should stop that from being the story of the fight if Caio approaches the fight intelligently…but the cardio dynamic could be one to be wary of. I personally think the complaints about Caio’s cardio are vastly overdone – he’s won the third round on 11 of the 12 scorecards that has been submitted in his UFC career (if we ignore the point deduction against Omargadzhiev).
Therefore, that leads me to conclude that I think this is a well-booked fight by the UFC, who want to bolster the record and popularity of one of their most interesting Brazilian prospects and get a big win for the home crowd. Craig will give Caio the fight he wants, and he will likely lose in doing so. Caio should win this fight at least 80% of the time, I think…which gives me about 6-7% of value on the -275 price tag I pounced on. As expected, that’s long gone now. That’s a 5u bet for me.
How I line this fight: Paul Craig +400 (20%), Caio Borralho -400 (80%)
Bet or pass: 5u Caio Borralho to Win (-275)
Prop leans: Caio could win this fight in any of the three ways tbh.
​
Anthony Smith v Vitor Petrino
The UFC reward Anthony Smith for his years of warrior spirit, company-first mentality, and his contributions on the UFC analyst bench…with a fight against one of the LHW division’s scariest upcoming prospects. How generous of them. Nonetheless, Smith is still talking crazy in interviews saying he’s close to a title shot with a win here, lol.
Vitor Petrino had one of those questionable records coming into the UFC. People have tried to fade him with Anton Turkalj, Marcin Prachnio, Modestas Bukauskas, and most recently Tyson Pedro. I understood the Modestas one, but the others were ridiculous. I bet Petrino at -250 against Pedro, and I think he definitely justified the price tag there.
Petrino is just so physically imposing. Whether he’s using his wrestling or striking, it just always feels like his opponents are tentative that Petrino’s about to do something explosive and dangerous. It’s been quite impressive seeing him show off his wrestling ability, as most believed him to be a pure striker that would struggle on the ground.
Anthony Smith is a very interesting litmus test for any aspiring top 15’er though, because despite the fact that Smith is very shopworn and clearly a bit mentally muddled (the “you attacked my family” thing against Walker was terrifying and really should not have been glossed over IMO), he is still a very well-rounded martial artist that is respectably skilled everywhere. He can be outgrappled by a safe guard-chilling gameplan, or just by generally being a more powerful striker though, as seen in his multitude of losses in recent years to the likes of Rountree, Walker, Ankalaev, Rakic, and Teixeira.
Those are two routes that Petrino can take, because we’ve already seen him follow those paths on multiple occasions. Whilst that’s clearly enough to deem him the favourite against a clearly declining Smith, this is enough of a step up in competition that I’m not convinced enough by Petrino to get on board with the idea of him being -400. Yes he probably goes and starches Lionheart, but if the finish doesn’t present itself easily then I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see this one turn more competitive than that line indicates. Therefore, -200 to -250 sounds like an appropriate price to me, so it’s no bet.
How I line this fight: Anthony Smith +250 (29%), Vitor Petrino -250 (71%)
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Michel Pereira v Ihor Potieria
This is a pretty simple one to break down. Doesn’t surprise me that it kicks off the main card. This fight makes absolutely no sense from a ranking perspective, but it makes all the sense in the world from a narrative and promotional perspective.
Michel Pereira is one of the hardest non-Heavyweight hitters in the UFC. Ihor Potieria is a bang average fighter that is basically being used as a litmus test for a lot of unproven prospects. He’s a very beatable fighter and the perfect sacrificial lamb to get you an easy UFC win on your record. He was originally scheduled to face Shara Bullet Magomedov, who is definitely flavour of the month. Hell, they even tried to use him as a softball for 40 year old Shogun Rua last year!
Potieria’s recent upset win over Robert Bryczek does demonstrate that he’s got SOME life in him though, but there’s a massive difference between Bryczek and Michel Pereira. Potieria isn’t overly interested in shooting for takedowns either, making this even more of a nightmare fight for him.
Another highlight reel KO for Michel Pereira is expected, and I’d be quite surprised if he didn’t get it here. Therefore, I fully expect that prop to be priced at something around the -150 mark, maybe even steeper.
Took some time for the line to come out but -400 sounds about right in my eyes. I decided to combine Pereira with Mateusz Rebecki on next week’s card. -140 for the double.
How I line this fight: Michel Pereira -450 (82%), Ihor Potieria +450 (18%)
Bet or pass: Potentially on the KO, price dependant
Prop leans: See above
​
Joaquim Silva v Drakkar Klose
This was the first bet I made on this card, and I placed it a couple of weeks ago when the line was much closer. I bet Drakkar Klose at -137.
I bet against Drakkar Klose when he faced Joe Solecki last time, and I’m still frustrated by how unlikely that finish was. Klose was definitely looking the inferior fighter there, but a moment of brilliance can be all it takes sometimes.
This one seems pretty cut and dry to me. Klose is a well-rounded fighter whose biggest issue had typically been his lack of finishing ability, but he’s still a very reliable fighter that will work hard for 15 minutes. He’s been in competitive fights with the likes of Beneil Dariush, Marc Diakiese, and Bobby Green in his time, and these bouts have spanned across all different realms of MMA. He’s never really done anything that will blow your hair back (aside from being on the receiving end of that amazing KO by Dariush, and the recent slam of Solecki), but I think that makes him a bit underrated. He’s 36 years old now, but he’s never been the fastest fighter, nor has he had a long and gruesome career.
Joaquim Silva has a similar level of experience, but his UFC record paints a different picture by comparison. The calibre of fighters he has lost two really does vary, but a decision loss to Vinc Pichel, as well as being finished by Ricky Glenn and Nasrat Haqparast, doesn’t really fill someone with confidence.
Silva’s most recent win came against 41-year-old Clay Guida, where he clearly lost a round and honestly could have lost the fight with a couple of adjustments. That fight was a terrible look for the -320 favourite, and to me that was a clear indication that he seems to be on the decline. Klose, by comparison, seems to be operating on a similar enough level to how he has done for most of his UFC career. Yes he has taken a step down in competition lately, but he’s performing as you would expect him to.
Statistically, Silva has a negative strike differential, and most of the key metrics are inferior to Klose as well. There’s every chance that this one turns into a barn burner, which would definitely suit the more dangerous Brazilian...but I fully expect Drakkar Klose to put on a typical 15 minute performance, where he settles down into his pace, and mixes in his superior striking and wrestling to coherently win rounds. It probably won’t be the most entertaining fight we’ve ever seen, but a commanding win is perfect for me. A vintage Drakkar Klose performance.
In terms of the betting line, I had Klose capped at around -200. The -137 available was a steal and I was very keen to take it, but I’d definitely be passing on this fight if I was looking at it for the first time now. Another reason why it’s important to keep track of my bet list at the bottom of each post, as I gave this out when -137 was widely available.
How I line this fight: Drakkar Klose -200 (67%), Joaquim Silva +200 (33%)
Bet or pass: 2u Drakkar Klose to Win (-137)
Prop leans: None
​
Alessandro Costa v Kevin Borjas
Alessandro Costa is a very flawed fighter. Good skills across the board, but the guy’s volume is so, low. I bet against him when he faced Steve Erceg, and that was most of the reason.
He faces Kevin Borjas, who we don’t know much about other than he isn’t as good of a striker than Joshua Van…which doesn’t tell us much at all. He did win a round in that fight, but that’s because Van is a bit of a slow starter and will take some time to get going.
I didn’t do tape on this one because I’m still kind of unsure about Borjas, and the betting line kind of reflects that the books don’t either. He’s a non-committal underdog at +110, where the books think he’s inferior but they don’t believe it with any degree of confidence. That sounds about right to me.
I just hope Costa wins this one so I might get another opportunity to fade him in the future.
How I line this fight: I didn’t tape but it looks about right to me.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Dione Barbosa v Ernesta Kareckaite
I lost money on Kareckaite’s DWCS fight, in what was brilliant demonstration of why you really shouldn’t bother betting or researching that show. Ernesta basically followed the blueprint I thought Judice was going to use, almost like I’d gotten the fighters the wrong way around. Super high variance when they’re so green.
And we’ve got more green-ness here. Both women have less than 10 professional fights. Barbosa is a -225 underdog. I’d blindly fade that if you had to bet on this fight. Otherwise I’d leave it alone. Take it as an opportunity to learn more about them for next time.
How I line this fight: Don’t know, didn’t tape
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Joanderson Brito v Jack Shore
Banger. This is potentially the most exciting fight on the card, as you have to really high skilled grapplers facing off against one another.
I am convinced that Joanderson Brito is quite overrated. He’s so explosive and dangerous, that it actually makes up for some pretty significant flaws. He’s an awful minute winner, and any opponent that is able to stay safe against him is likely going to win on the scorecards. He has bulldozed three opponents in R1, shown a moment of brilliance against Jonathan Pearce, and been out-hustled by Bill Algeo. That shows a 4-1 UFC record, but all I see is a guy who has actually lost more minutes in the UFC cage than he’s won. I think he’s also getting second hand hype because he beat Diego Lopes on DWCS, and that guy is possibly the most exciting prospect in the UFC right now.
So can Jack Shore stay safe here? Well he’s definitely got the grappling to give it a good go. Just like Jonathan Pearce before him, Shore can use his intense wrestling to stay safe from Brito’s striking. Shore also has good BJJ, which makes me feel confident he can avoid Brito’s opportunistic but ultimately low percentage submission from bottom – at least better than Pearce did.
Obviously the striking is where Brito has a big advantage, and his dangerousness will certainly show itself there in the early goings. Shore hasn’t really fought any dangerous strikers in his UFC tenure so far, so it’s kind of hard to say how well he will fare in those striking moments.
This is one of those fights where breaking down the betting line from a probability perspective just results in an uncomfortable feeling, however you spin it. Brito has more ways to win and is somewhat of a fan favourite, so I can understand why he has the minus next to his number. However, I can really easily see the path to victory for Jack Shore, and I don’t think it’s crazy to say he could go out there and look like a -300 favourite. But then if I think about making Shore the favourite I’m immediately thinking about how dangerous Brito is and how he could easily look -300 as well! It’s a mind fuck.
At the end of the day, the line is relatively close at the moment. Shore sits around +125 which, given he hasn’t fought for a year and is going up against the flavour of the month, I guess I’m okay with. If Shore moves to +140 or better, I think I’ll have to play him. I think he could easily do what Jonathan Pearce or Bill Algeo did. Brito is a boogeyman who is half the fighter he’s hyped up to be if he can’t find a finish.
How I line this fight: Joanderson Brito -110 (52%), Jack Shore +110 (48%)
Bet or pass: Pass, for now
Prop leans: Brito ITD probably the best looking prop available, Jack has too many paths
​
Elves Brener v Myktkbek Orolbai
Man, what does Elves Brener have to do to catch a break!? Dude steps into the UFC (possibly on short notice?) and gets a win as a massive underdog against Tukhugov, then pulls off another upset against Guram Kutateladze. His opponent pulls out of his third fight and they give him a guy with a 15-1 record. Now he’s 3-0 and you’d finally think they start to give him the chance to build up some hype…but then they go and book him against Myktkbek Orolbai!
For those who haven’t seen Orolbai’s debut against Uros Medic last year, it was definitely one of the best debuts of 2023. He stuck to the Serbian like glue and, despite some persistent get ups, managed to find the submission relatively easily in what was a dominant performance.
Unfortunately, that fight was so one-sided that we don’t really know anything else about Orolbai at this level, as his other recent bouts took place on LFA against guys with 18-14 and 10-7 records.
With no further relevant info, there are too many gaps to form an opinion on Orolbai. What I will say is that Elves Brener has continued to play spoiler so far in his UFC career and continues to be underrated by the books despite that. Does he deserve to be around +200 here? Only if Orolbai is the real deal.
We will get our answers, but there’s no reason to put money on this fight. Anyone who does is putting blind faith in nine minutes of dominance against a Serbian on the mat…or they’re just chatting shit.
How I line this fight: Impossible to say
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Jean Silva v William Gomis
On the subject of underrated fighters, William Gomis features in our next bout. The Frenchman has a very underrated style, one that isn’t going to grab all the highlights or get him clamouring for a main event, but it’s still a very useful one inside the cage. He’s well-rounded, has great kicks to compliment a very technical striking style that goes well with his long frame. I was made first aware of Gomis when he dismantled the overhyped Cage Warriors prospect Tobias Harila. He was calm amongst the chaos, and put in a really professional performance that likely got the ball rolling to eventually earn him a UFC contract. The experience from that fight will serve him well here.
He faces Jean Silva, a very explosive Brazilian that trains with Caio Borralho’s Fighting Nerds. We saw him most recently when he obliterated the vastly inferior Westin Wilson – God knows how that kid got asked to come to the UFC. And they’re giving him a third fight. Really is an embarrassing company at this point.
Before that we saw Silva go 15 minutes on DWCS, and his style looks a lot less impressive when he can’t find a finish. There wasn’t much investment in striking fundamentals, everything was a big action with fight ending intentions. That’s all good when you’re fighting Westin Wilson who blocks punches with his face, but what about when you’re facing a talented kickboxer who prioritises defence and range management? I could very easily see Silva hitting air for 15 minutes.
So I think the line is the wrong way around here, and that William Gomis has the potential to win this one quite comfortable if he can play the matador game. Whilst that sounds like I am gearing up to bet him, I’m actually going to pass on this one currently. He’s only at +110 so it’s not like he’s at a clear underdog price, and considering he’s not the explosive fighter that’s going to be chasing the finish and doing the damage, I think he’s got more of a job to do to impress the judges. Furthermore, we are obviously in Brazil where I think the crowd can certainly emphasise the work that Silva does, which may twist the judges’ arm a bit more.
So there’s value on Gomis, but not enough to warrant a bet. It’s a reluctant pass for me. If there’s major line movement I might play Gomis at like +150, but I doubt it goes that far.
How I line this fight: Jean Silva +120 (46%), William Gomis -120 (54%)
Bet or pass: Pass, unless the line moves.
Prop leans: None
​
Karolina Kowalkiewicz v Iasmin Lucindo
If Craig v Borralho was a nice gift for me as a bettor, this is possibly my worst nightmare. I’m probably one of KK’s biggest fans, and Iasmin Lucindo is a prospect I am very high on. I bet on these women pretty much every time I can, and I think I’ve actually won money on both Moneylines and Method of Victorys in every fight they’ve both had since I started posting here.
If you read my stuff every week, you’ll know Karolina is my girl. Genuinely my favourite fighter. But I think this is the wake-up call she and I knew was coming eventually. KK’s resurgence has been such an inspiring journey, from getting absolutely brutalised, struggling badly with her mental health, taking the time off and coming back to string together four wins on the trot. That post-fight interview against Herrig was one of my favorite interview moments in UFC history.
But, having said all that, the UFC have been really kind to her. They’ve given her competitive fights that she is capable of winning if she keeps herself together…but Diana Belbita, Vanessa Demopoulos, Silvana Gomez Suarez, and Felice Herrig are certainly a lower calibre within WMMA who have already shown us their ceiling. Iasmin Lucindo is a completely different fighter.
Lucindo is a prospect, pure and simple. She’s got great striking, and great BJJ. I said when she fought Jauregui in her debut that these two could easily meet again in the top 5 of the division in a few years time, and I think her sophomore performance against Polyana Viana showed that (I bet her quite heavily in that one). Viana’s trash and it was the perfect matchup for her, but there’s reason to believe that this one could be too.
Kowalkiewicz’s resurgence has relied on her fighting opponents that mostly want to strike, and even if not, the wrestling of these women has been at a level she could handle…I don’t expect that to be the case against Lucindo. Iasmin has an advantage in speed, and age/youthfulness as 16 years the junior. We know that plays a massive part in fights, and I expect it to here. Karolina isn’t particularly good on the mat if those takedowns, but we just haven’t seen it for some time. If Lucindo gets top time, I think she probably manouvres her way to a submission with relative ease.
Of course, this one is much more competitive if they choose to strike, as Karolina’s got the right blend of determination, volume, and technique to keep any B grade or lower striker honest over the course of three rounds. Lucindo’s not the most amazing striker I have ever seen, but I also don’t expect her to be outclassed by Kowalkiewicz either. In WMMA, if you don’t have a unique striking style such as power or suffocating pressure (which neither girl has), then there’s only so much you can really do at this level to separate yourself as the superior striker. If they fight 100 rounds on the feet, I wouldn’t expect either woman to win more than 65 of the 100 times.
So that’s the key bit of information when looking at the betting line here. I know Lucindo deserves to be a significant favourite, due to youthfulness and a style that finally doesn’t actually suite her Polish opponent…but Karolina is sound enough to easily make this one competitive. If Lucindo doesn’t show a significant urgency or even desire to shoot takedowns, or if Karolina can stuff them, then this one looks much closer to a 50/50ish fight on the feet.
Whilst that sounds like I’m leaning towards playing my girl Karolina Kowalkiewicz, I’m unfortunately not. It’s impossible to really say how much success Lucindo is going to have with her takedown attempts here, so I can’t clearly quantify how much of a favourite she could be. If she can land them with ease, she might look -500. If she can’t land them at all, she could look +100. Compared to the -300 betting line we are getting, that definitely sounds like a pass. If you’re someone who likes to bet on every fight for the fun of it, a roll of the dice on Kowalkiewicz definitely isn’t the worst idea.
However, I will be keeping an eye out for that Lucindo by Submission prop. I doubt I’d get a good line on it with her being -300, but there’s always a chance the books get caught napping because it’s WMM and they expect a decision. We’ll see, I’d probably take +200 or better.
How I line this fight: Iasmin Lucindo -200 (66%), Karolina Kowalkiewicz +200 (33%)
Bet or pass: Pass on the ML, might bet Lucindo by Submission if I get a nice price (I’m talking +225 or better)
Prop leans: See above
​
Mauricio Ruffy v Jamie Mullarkey
Mauricio Ruffy has won all of his professional fights via KO, and has fought quite a few cans in his day. He is the -160 favourite and is obviously very undeserving of that price tag against a guy with a decent amount of UFC experience.
Jamie Mullarkey is very unreliable, has bad fight IQ, and just generally isn’t very good. Dude lost a striking fight to Michael Johnson and got KO’d by Nasrat Haqparast – two things I thought were very hard to do in this day and age.
Pick your poison. Or don’t, and just be smart and leave this fight alone.
How I line this fight: who knows
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Ismael Bonfim v Vinc Pichel
Ismael Bonfim returns from what was originally a massive upset at the hands of Benoit Saint Denis last July, but thankfully for him the Frenchman’s performances since have helped that result age well, as he elevated himself to prospect status and faced Poirier.
I was sadly all aboard the Ismael Bonfim hype train, as I deemed his debut win over Terrance McKinney as arguable the debut of the year for 2023. McKinney’s actually been fraud checked a fair bit since then so that win has coincidentally aged badly on the reverse. Nonetheless, I still think this Bonfim is good and will eventually turn into a top 15 fighter (not like his brother, an overrated fraud that I faded against Nicholas fucking Dalby).
Either way, the UFC are trying to run the Ismael Bonfim hype back again by pitting him against a 40 year old Vinc Pichel, who they’re probably just looking to get off the books as he likely has a contract that pays far more than he’s worth (by the 10/10 standard, anyway). Pichel is old but not particularly shop worn due to lack of commitment to his MMA career. He’s a well-rounded guy that always seems to end up in grappling-based fights. He has been competitive with the likes of Mark Madsen, Austin Hubbard, Jim Miller and Roosevelt Roberts in recent years, which kind of paints the picture that he’s capable but limited.
I think it’s fair to assume that Ismael Bonfim really should have Pichel covered here. He’s the way more dangerous fighter, and will be the one having moments of success where he threatens to finish. Outside of some sort of massive cardio dump, I think he can either find a finish or competently win 2/3 rounds with relative ease.
He’s -400 on the betting line so the odds clearly reflect that. I definitely wouldn’t be interested in playing him at that number, seeing as he’s returning from a massive setback and may not be the same as he once was. I could see him winning via all three potential methods of victory, so I’m not really sure a bet is possible here.
How I line this fight: Ismael Bonfim -400 (80%), Vinc Pichel +400 (20%)
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Bets (Bold = been placed)
Xu Pantoja vs Erceg to last Over X.5 rounds (+XXX, can’t really say what I’d bet until I see numbers)
5u Caio Borralho to Win (-275)
1u Michel Pereira to Win by TKO/KO (+XXX, probably not bettable but I’d take under -150)
2u Michel Pereira + Mateusz Rebecki to Win (-105)
2u Drakkar Klose to Win (-137)
2u Jack Shore to Win (+140 or better)
1u Iasmin Lucindo to Win by Submission (+XXX, I’d take +225 or better)
5u Arb attempt - Jonathan Martinez to Win (-125. I will be betting on Aldo too)
0.25u Parlay Pieces (+XXX, props not out yet)
Parlay Pieces: Pantoja/Erceg Over 1.5 Rounds, Caio Borralho, Michel Pereira, Drakkar Klose, Ismael Bonfim
Dog of the Week: Jack Shore

Right! One more episode just packed to the brims that makes me love how every character is always like:
"it's not my secret to tell" "it's not my business"
but then everyone is mixing themselves into every else's business because that's humans for you. And sometimes that has hilarious, others it has tragic results and feel free to guess where most of the meddling ends on that scale, in this episode.
https://preview.redd.it/og6w5agqc9xc1.jpg?width=606&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d4363f060c8781084d67e715156ac21fc3d6c694
I love how Fellowes looves killing us softly. We're starting with a wide shot of Downton, as sunny a day as you can get up in Yorkshire, but then you look at the foreground, and see Matthew in a wheelchair with Mary pushing him on what I assume is a sad imitation of their usual walk and talk around the estate.
Just, take yourselves back a season, remember the young man who was "so full of himself", i.e. confident, strolling into Downton having no idea what to expect but being certain enough in himself to not be afraid of any criticism. And then meeting a young woman also so full of herself, confident, but also quite angry, and who could not understand why she was supposed to not only dine with him as equals, but be pushed at him, like he had already known and she had scoffed at, to be his wife.
And then life happened, and they were both humbled a lot, and grew up a lot, and sometimes the way it happened was way too tragic.
Because Matthew had never asked to be Lord of the manor strolling around Downton in splendour. He had been brought up to believe he needed to stand on his own two feet, to work hard and earn his way. And Mary had never had to work a day in her life. Had thought it was too enraging to even dine with Matthew, the usurper of her father's affections and her mother's fortune.
And now here they are, Matthew relying on others to make his way, and said others being Lady Mary Crawley.
Golly Gumdrops, what a turnip indeed!
Note: they are still the future of Downton though. Like I said, it's as sunny as a day can get in Yorkshire (some clouds but the sun/hope is coming through), and Downton is standing strong behind them. Visual language is a thing of beauty sometimes.
Mary: I shall have arms like Jack Johnson if I’m not careful.
Matthew: I’m strong enough to wheel myself.
Mary: I’ll be the judge of that.
I love them. Their situation might be different, but their stubbornness and character shines through immediately. Mary with a sarcastic joke. Matthew still insisting he can work his way. Mary letting him know she sets the rules of the game thank you very much.
They've changed, but they're still themselves, just more mature, a bit worn.
Matthew then going on a slightly depressive space all "William was the brave one, sacrifice should be rewarded, he should be here not *exactly* instead of me etc" and Mary picking up on it immediately and setting him straight.
"I don't think we can say "should" about things that happen in war. It just happens. And we should live with it."
She does that thing where she rolls her entire head (not just the eyes, Michelle you genius, the camera was too far away, wouldn't pick up on that) because clearly she's been talking him out of his depressive moods for a while and she's become an expert at letting him air his grievances but easily replying with just the thing that will shut him up and keep him grounded.
https://preview.redd.it/75pkj7led9xc1.jpg?width=400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4397554f8ed62680c59339f0a92e3d9dec1e744b
Carlisle: Ought I to be jealous?
Ugh. Here we fucking go.
I love Robert's face. Constipated. And as terrible a liar as his eldest daughter, but unlike her he knows it so he doesn't even reply to Carlisle and instead changes the subject.
I'm so confused by Carlisle. Well, not confused, I know what he's doing. I'm just pissed off at him I guess.
He had made it clear to Mary, immediately, that he was not in love with her. That he felt no affection for her. That the marriage he had in mind was one of mutual social benefit.
So no, Carlisle, you're not supposed to be jealous. You asked Mary to be your society wife. To give you the aristocratic connection you needed, to be there to guide you through their insane traditions and to show up at functions and be socially savvy, and to give you "blue-blooded" children.
*vomits*
Carlisle has no rights to her heart, and she knows this. Mary guards her heart more than any other character on this show, and she'd certainly not offered it to Richard, ever, so why would he possibly be jealous???
Matthew is impotent in these scenes, clearly there's nothing they could do that could damage Carlisle socially, even if they wanted to (which they actually didn't, Mary was offering her love and care in the least sexual way possible, and Matthew was nowhere near that mindset), and Mary was offering Matthew none of the things Richard wanted so what's the deal mate??
It will be made clear, at the very end of the episode.
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I'm hating on Robert so hard in this scene. I love well-written it is though, because Robert and Carlisle are talking about completely different things.
Robert knows how Mary feels about Matthew. We've seen that realisation hit him in the previous episode. But when Carlisle says he wants to buy Haxby, Robert wonders whether it would be "comfortable" for them to stay at Haxby.
Does this mean he was aware Matthew was also still in love with Mary? Or did he simply worry it would be too painful for Mary to be so close to Matthew and Lavinia? Is it possible he could already see this being an issue, but decided to not say absolutely anything about it because... Who cares I guess????
So what if Mary is in a loveless marriage, as long as she's married, able to procreate, and somewhere far enough from Downton that her and Matthew's stupidity wouldn't cause trouble to the family?
Or did he think if they were far enough away she'd forget?
Either way, Robert is thinking of what Richard said previously, that Matthew and Mary are definitely not done, meanwhile, for all his "worries" over Mary falling for Matthew all Richard is thinking of is the practicalities of the place because he wasn't actually buying it with Mary in mind. Just his dreams of climbing the social ladder and then showing it off in absolute splendour.
With the beautiful aristocratic wife on his arm and his money buying the very best house and luxuries available, all trophies to show off to his potential crowd of sycophants.
*gags*
So, yeah, fuck Robert and his indifference to Mary becoming some asshole's trophy wife. Great, A++ parenting right there. I mean sure, she's a grown woman who makes her own choices, but Robert's inaction/indifference is just pathetic and telling of his parenting style in the past, when Mary was *not* a grown woman.
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Ah, fake Patrick, my beloved. I hope the user forever making their point about that storyline is still around, mate give me a shout if you like this breakdown in the end!
Let me start off by saying that he DID take terrible advantage of Edith. He read the situation really well, greeting her with: "Lady Edith, SECOND daughter of the house", to which Edith replied "Yes, IN CHARGE of non-medical welfare".
It doesn't take long for Fellowes to show character weakness when he wants to, and Edith wears her emotions on her sleeve. It does help her become more likeable (to those who like emotive characters, I prefer mine as frosty as the Antartica until you cut through all that ice but again, personal preferences!) but it also exposes her to exploitation, again and again because this is neither the first time, nor the last time it happens. Fake Patrick read her like a book.
We could also say that there were things he could know from the real Patrick. Edith has always worn her heart on her sleeve and she's openly tried to take the attention of Mary's suitors before, so it's no stretch to say she'd definitely show Patrick she was into him, something that Patrick might have said to his friend.
But as that is speculation, we still have that bit of dialogue to see how Edith gave herself and her weakness, her feeling of inferiority she tries so hard to make up for in various ways, away to this man.
Also, he says "I hope my appearance doesn't put you off" while he's still hidden in the shadows, and Edith quite confidently replies "At this stage there isn't much that puts me off" but then he quite swiftly comes into the light, and oh-
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Edith has to look away in shock, and to manage to hold on to her composure and continue in polite conversation. Very manipulative, this Fake Patrick, able to use his recent injury to his advantage, because this was a power move. That yes, he could put her off if he wanted to.
I do feel sorry for Edith here. She tries to give him an explanation for their common "family history", already a victim of his manipulation because she tries to give him comfort which he Definitely doesn't need, and she closes it off with "well, as I said, I'm hopeless".
Unfortunately, that is true, but sadly, not in the way she says it. She's hopeless in falling for his act, actually.
He drops the hook with saying "I hoped you'd recognise my voice" and sees her interest before she's pulled away by Sybil. For now, Fake Patrick is satisfied with himself. Progress, he thinks.
Fellowes, you witty bastard.
Right. Moving on to yet another manipulative bastard:
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Carlisle: Lady Mary and I intend to buy a home near Downton.
Fuck off. You never needed Mary's agreement or permission in doing anything. He just knows what he needs to say to get Carson to listen.
"It's a long way from London, but I've made enough money to please myself these days."
Finally, some honesty. "to please MYSELF". No kidding. I know it just slipped out, he didn't mean to show his hand, but again, excellent writing.
In any case, Carlisle had started his campaign on how to fix the Matthew and Mary issue. He's a newspaper man, he knows the best way to work is to surround yourself with people literally in your pocket. He offered to job to Carson to lull Mary in a sense of security, that she'd have someone she considered family with her, and hoped he could buy off his loyalty because Carlisle puts 0 weight on real loyalty and affection, so he'd never expect Carson to not fold to his own wishes, if he needed him to, over his loyalty to Mary.
Carson: I await Lady Mary's instruction.
Right. We'll get back to that, next episode. I'm not gonna comment here further than saying that obviously, at this point Carson's loyalty remains with his daughter current employer's daughter.
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Mary: It's so empty
Visual language, she's standing alone in an empty and very grand house. But it's empty. Like her current situation. Very grand. And empty.
Also she and Carlisle are on opposite ends of the house AND when the camera looks at Mary, we look at her head-on because her situation is unchanged, but we look at Carlisle from below, because "he's rising" in the world 😒
The script again, gives us excellent lines "When Billy died it knocked the stuffing out of them" like the stuffing had been knocked out of Mary. All that misery had resulted in Billy's parents leaving Haxby, and Mary coming to it.
Also Mary when Carlisle says they can buy furniture and paintings "Your lot buys it. My lot inherits it. We ought to get back."

1. Apparently, if you're going to marry a man this authoritative, you really should learn that you will suffer if you're going to be so open with your opinions, as a woman. Mary finds that out soon enough. But it's MARY, and God knows I love her for her strength of spirit, so she definitely won't slip into the role of the compliant, broken wife. My girl 🥹
2. "your lot buys it, my lot inherits it. We ought to get back" Her brain has gone from Carlisle's lot, to her lot, which is Matthew, who will inherit Downton and all its furniture and paintings, because Matthew has gone from interloper to her lot/family in her mind, and by the way, Matthew needs her so they ought to get back.

Again. So. Well. Written.
Carlisle: Why? What's at Downton that needs your attention so urgently?
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Again, fuck off Carlisle. Why do you care who she spends her time with, she's still your trophy wife. Mary doesn't even bother responding because, guess what, it's actually none of his fucking business. MY GIRL
Carlisle: Well, what do you think? Should we give the house a second chapter?
Mary: Well, I suppose one has to live somewhere
She really can't understand why he's suddenly pretending they're something more than what they actually are. She won't give him the satisfaction of going along with it. "One has to live somewhere" i.e. it doesn't matter where we'll be, the house won't make any difference to what we will be to each other.
Back to Fake Patrick and his campaign of misinformation.
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He says "do you still not recognise me" and traps Edith, both because he knows she will want to give him what he wants, and because she's in a situation where a woman of her station simply has to remember an acquittance so she says "I know, I'm being so silly" even though she's not being silly at all, she has no reason to remember him.
This is why Edith is the more feminine of the three sisters. Neither Sybil nor Mary would give a flying fuck about the rules of society here, while Edith truly tries to be a model woman, still. They would refuse to make themselves appear silly to satisfy a man. They'd both say some variation of "Why the fuck should I remember you?" Mary's probably closer to that sentiment than Sybil's, and go on with their lives.
Anyway, Fake Patrick goes on creating connections that Edith doesn't actually see, only reads them through what he's dishing out to her, and slowly begins to believe his bullshit.
"I was just hoping you'd realise without me having to spell it out" he shifts the blame on her for not recognising him, when she had 0 reasons to make that connection. Like a manipulative bastard.
There's a reason there wasn't a scene between Fake Patrick and Mary. She'd eat him alive.
It's also moments like this that make me feel sad for Edith and Mary's relationship. This is something that Mary could have protected her sister from, if their relationship wasn't so very damaged.
He gets Edith to sit down and he feeds her the tale, but she still has questions so when he gets the chance he manipulates her again:
Edith: And it must be so hard for you, what with Mary getting married.
Fake Patrick: Did I love her very much?
Edith: Well, I'm the wrong person to ask.
Fake Patrick: Because you were the one who really loved me, you mean?
Edith: I never thought Patrick knew.
Fake Patrick: Well, he did. I--I do.
He asks Edith if he loved Mary, because he knows that will give her the space to expose herself, to let him know if she has lingering feelings for Patrick, and that gives him a footing to manipulate her emotionally.
They actually don't speak about Patrick's feelings at all. Only Edith's. They don't say if Patrick loved Mary. They don't even talk about if Mary loved Patrick. They only talk of Edith's feelings, and he lets her know that Patrick knew about it (and slips a bit when he says that Patrick knew, not himself).
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Mary: *something about Haxby park with the least amount of enthusiasm imaginable*
Matthew: Can we stop??
Yeah, mate. I wish you would. Take a moment to actually think. But why would you do that when you can both be idiots instead.
Matthew: I'd much rather see your face when we talk
Mary is hard enough to read when you're watching her expressions closely, how can he judge what she feels if he can only tell from her voice? And he needs to know how she feels about Haxby, and Carlisle.
Oh, Matthew 😔
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Mary: I don't have to marry him, you know.
They talk about Mary and Carlisle buying Haxby, about Carson's devotion to her, and she's so desperate. I think part of it is because she wonders who will Matthew have in his corner. She wants to tell him that just as Carson would "open his veins for her" she would do the same for Matthew. And she tells that to him now, not before or after, because now, this moment, is the only time when Lavinia is truly not in the picture. Because she doesn't take away from Matthew's happiness by not only showing him, but telling him how much she truly cares. Well. As much as Mary can manage to talk about feelings anyway.
She also thinks she will have Carson in her corner, and that's something, but who will Matthew have if she leaves? She's also so desperate the more the time passes and the closer she comes to the reality that actually, she won't be able to stay at Matthew's side for much longer.
How else would she say "I don't have to marry him", if not in despair? Of course she has to marry him. She still thinks her father and Matthew would hate her if they knew the truth. She thinks Carlisle would sell her story the moment she pulled out of the deal (and we'll talk about why he didn't do it when the time comes), her plea here is more showing of how desperate she is over their situation, and to show Matthew that she'd do anything for him.
From his end, Matthew would never accept that kind of devotion.
Matthew: Yes, you do. If I thought for a moment that I was an argument against your marriage, I should jump into the nearest river.
There's two sides to this:

1. If he wouldn't "trap" Lavinia in a life as his wife and nurse, he certainly wouldn't "trap" Lady Mary Crawley to a life as his nurse. What I love is that, unlike other men on the show who just don't think women capable of knowing their own minds, Matthew doesn't dismiss Mary's opinion and feelings, he only dismisses himself. He doesn't think she's misguided in her thoughts, just that he doesn't want to be the one to drag her down to his level, because he thinks himself quite worthless right now.
2. "I wouldn't let you anywhere near me" I think in the end of the day, he's aware of his weakness, and his weakness is Mary. And if Mary weren't engaged, if what she was offering wasn't to be his nurse, he wouldn't be strong enough to send her away. He loves her too much.

Right, from that tear-jerker lets move to some fun bits for once:
Matthew:... I should jump into the nearest river.
Mary: And how would you manage that without my help?
Matthew: Well, I'd get you to push me in.
Lord give me strength.
A marriage of equals. Where Matthew would need Mary's help. Where Mary would be in a position to help him, but would be reluctant to do so, unless persuaded by Matthew to change her mind.
Hmmm, I think there's a storyline (or two) from season 3 that fits this dialogue perfectly. And some that fit it in reverse.
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*insert any and all rage gifs*
He looks so, so sad. His own life seems so bleak. And Mary is engaged so he "lets" her spend time with him. But also, Mary is engaged, to another man.
And look at her as well. She can see how depressed he is and it's killing her, and she's trying so hard to help him find some hope. Mary's heartbreak over Matthew's self-pity and fatalism is a thing that can destroy a person (me).
If only they weren't so perfect for each other and still killing me with their endless drama and bloody stubborn stupidity and gaaaaaaaahh.
Moving on
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I love how these scenes come in one after the other.
Mary and Matthew bathed in light, even in their tragedy, and Carlisle and Cora shown in dark outlines as they're watching them, because what they are plotting is truly, honestly, so disgusting and vile in its selfishness.
No one expected anything better from Carlisle, but Cora???
First of all, Mary would be so ashamed to be so easily read. Matthew doesn't care, he's open with his emotions because he's confident in his ability to withstand whatever comes his way, and to not be manipulated by them, Mary cares, and she'd normally hate being so obvious if she wasn't so torn apart by Matthew's misery.
Second of all, honestly, Cora. I thought she'd have known better than involving herself in Mary's life by now, but apparently not. And by the way, she doesn't make a choice for Mary here, she makes it for herself, and her family, and what SHE thinks is best. And what she thinks is best is marrying Mary off to Carlisle because Carlisle CAN make babies with Mary and what does Mary even matteworth to anyone if she doesn’t do her duty and bear children?
*gags, vomits, throws computer out a window*
Anyone who knew Mary, truly knew her, and cared about her, would know that taking her away from Matthew and pushing her further in with Carlisle would not be in her -personal- best interest.
Also, selfish, and frankly disgusting, that Cora bulked at the idea of Mary being Matthew's nurse, but didn't mind throwing Lavinia at that "hideous" prospect. After all, Lavinia has no “blue blood” to speak of so who the fuck cares.
I honestly hate these people. They can both fuck right off. Their interference here was an absolute travesty. And if we want to talk about the real reason things went so sour with Lavinia, we can stare at these two, in this moment.
Because before Matthew's injury, he and Mary were far more removed from each other. After all that time of her taking care of him though, there was a bond there that was far more difficult to ignore. And if Lavinia hadn't come back, they would have figured it out. And Carlisle knew that. So at least I can understand his motivations in not wanting Lavinia back, because he was actually worried at this point that Mary might pull out of their agreement (and again, we will talk more about his "leverage" over her later on), but Cora? Shameful. Honestly.
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HER FACE
She couldn't believe that someone, anyone, would change their lives for her sake. Carson says "It would be a huge wrench for me to leave Downton" but he would do it for her, and she just can't believe it.
And this is important in how bad her reaction is later.
Because Mary isn't used to people showing her CARE. Interest yes, many people are interested in her. But interest and care are two very different things.
Also, just one bit from her conversation with Robert later:
Robert: You know there is nothing more ill-bred than to steal other people's servants.
Mary: But you're not other people. And Carson brought me up.
I.e. You're not "other people" you're my actual father, and should show a bit more consideration for my welfare. And Carson is not a servant, he's family. And he's showing Mary more consideration than her actual father in this instance. Or at least, that's how she sees it, in this moment. Especially since in the end, Robert doesn't give in to losing Carson for Mary's sake, but because it's what Carson wants.
The bad stuff haven't come yet and I'm already crying for her. Life has another slap on its way and it will hit her hard. And it's not even the one coming from Fake Patrick and his bullshit. Speaking of which-
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Family councils hadn’t made an appearance in ages and honestly, given how sad this one is, and how they normally come around when one tragedy or other strikes, I can’t exactly say I’ve missed them.
Emotions run high, and it’s amazing that the most exuberant of them all is Mary.
Matthew is only finding an outlet for his grief, the loss of inheritance seen as yet another thing he had trouble accepting before, but is certain he doesn’t deserve now. And Mary looks at him with so. Much. Pain.
Because she’s been there. She IS there. She knows what it feels like to feel completely worthless. To think you’ve lost your place in the world. That whatever it was that gave your life value before simply isn’t there anymore, and it’s KILLING her to see Matthew completely lost in self-hatred.
But because she’s Mary, she won’t just sit there quietly and let him take it, no matter what he says. She’ll yell and make a fuss and fight for him when he’s not in a place to fight for himself, and she'll do those things with much more conviction than she ever fought for herself so far.
And she’s literally got nothing to gain from this. Matthew has rebutted her efforts to stay by his side time and again, and her standing up for him now won’t win her any favours with literally anyone. It serves no purpose for her to be suddenly so emotional over something that really shouldn’t matter to her, but she’s not standing up for her own benefit, but for Matthew’s.
Edith is certainly surprised, exactly because she doesn’t understand why Mary would care, because Edith doesn’t know/believe how much Mary loves Matthew.
Note 1: Matthew and Mary have this in common: when they're most hurt they turn their pain to anger. My heart breaks that Mary knows this and can read that in Matthew's reaction, because it's so like her own.
Note 2: I love how Carlisle is almost uplifted to hear about Matthew’s loss of his inheritance, only to immediately intervene when he thinks it might be something that will cause issues to his own plans (when Edith points out that Mary used to be engaged to Patrick). I love how Mary rolls her eyes because of course that is absolutely ridiculous, and not only because Mary knows Patrick is dead.
I can tell Mary is Fellowes’ favourite character in this scene at least, because she’s the only one who doesn’t buy Fake Patrick’s absolutely ridiculous ploy. And it’s probably the reason why we don’t get to see her end Fake Patrick because she would never bother even meeting him, that’s how convinced she is he’s fake.
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Note 3: The only other 2 people who react strongly to these news are Isobel and Robert. Isobel because it’s heartbreaking for her to watch her son, always so strong and confident, be this defeated, and Robert because he does love Matthew as a son. It is though heartbreaking he wouldn’t show the same consideration when his daughter is writing off her own life.
Oh well.
We momentarily get back to Edith and Fake Patrick, and Fake Patrick continues giving Edith reasons to create stories she thinks he remembers, without him actually remembering any of them. It’s just sad. She was too desperate.
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At the second family council re: Fake Patrick: Violet very astutely places herself in support of Matthew. And in this instance, I think it was simply because she was smart enough to know that this was a Fake Patrick.
Mary hits the nail on the head when she randomly guesses one of the things Fake Patrick “remembered” and gives a pause to Edith’s conviction.
Isobel is still worried over Matthew, even though he appears to be much calmer, and I think a combination of Isobel, Mary, and now watching Violet sort of take his side has helped him see reason, if not that he’s worthy of his position (since he still says “It’ll take a man who’s more than I am now to follow you. So don’t think about me”), that at the very least he’s nowhere near losing it.
I don’t think even Edith herself realised how damaging it would be for Matthew to lose Downton now, that it would have been incredibly difficult for him to find work.
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Carlisle brings Lavinia back to Downton, Cora greets her like she’s an lamb for slaughter old friend, and there’s a variety of shock and horror on multiple people’s faces.
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I think what gets to me the most is this, Matthew has mostly resigned himself to his situation rather than happily accepted Lavinia’s return. He’s been told by so many people that he should embrace this new life, that he should make the most of it, and he’s probably quite vulnerable now when he realises that actually, he still has so much to lose when he thought he’d reached rock bottom, that he will take this, even though he probably still doesn’t think it’s right.
I don’t know how to feel about the row Robert and Cora had.
On the one hand, it could explain Robert’s lack of reaction to Carlisle being a horrible future husband for Mary. He can clearly see Mary loves Matthew, but he doesn’t like the idea of Mary still being attached to him any more than Cora does.
He does say however “Sometimes Cora you can be curiously unfeeling” and I’m not sure if he says that because Cora doesn’t care if Lavinia ends up as Matthew’s nurse, or because he can see how hard it all is for Mary and Matthew and he finds the solution of “Mary is still in love with Matthew even though she’s marrying Carlisle, so let’s bring Lavinia in to even the odds out” a cruelty to everyone involved.
I find it all incredibly cruel so for Robert’s sake, I hope the answer is both. It’s a cruel, stupid plan and will literally hurt everyone involved.
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I don’t know about any of you, but I remember being young and watching this, and my heart almost giving out.
For one thing, Mary freezes again the moment Carlisle grabs her.
For another thing, it happens in her home. Again. In the place where she should feel strong and safe because it’s her “noble” family’s home. And she’s yet again reminded that, no, actually, she’s not strong. Or at least, her strength of character doesn’t matter because in the end she’s not a man, she’s a woman at the mercy of the man who currently has control over her.
And he forces a kiss on her and she just stands there, numb, nods that she’ll follow his wishes, absolutely frozen still.
I do hate this show sometimes, but I do love that Mary stood up to him all by herself. In the end.
Note: the thing that Mary says to Carlisle that sets him off is “suppose Matthew won’t have her” i.e. Lavinia, and that in the end of the day if Mary wants to spend time helping Matthew it really isn’t Carlisle’s business. But Carlisle is a controlling fuck, so he took issue with that. That has been his problem all along. He doesn't care if Mary has feelings for another man, he just wants her entirely under his thumb regardless and he makes sure she knows he has all the cards.
The fact that there’s people on here saying Carlisle was “mistreated” really pisses me off to no end. But then they're often on here defending Pamuk so, you know, people be people.
Anyway. Fake Patrick leaves, the war ends, Mary is told to keep her distance, and Matthew starts gaining some feeling in his legs, which is I suppose what salvaged his relationship with Lavinia, at this stage.
God, this was long. Have a nice week everyone, the next episode should be easier as I think it's the filler one before Fellowes starts killing off ppl 💀