#saved // Memory instead of statistic.

[bugged-candies]

TAG DUMP - PT 2

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Before death. 3170 words.

1986

Led Zeppelin.

Talking Heads.

Public Enemy.

The Grateful Dead.

Brian Eno.

The Clash.

Metallica.

New Order.

N.W.A.

The Cure.

Tori Amos.

Black Sabbath.

Cat Stevens.

Patti Smith.

Fleetwood Mac.

There were a lot of cassettes in your car. Eddie looked through them with interest. Some were store bought, their original sleeves intact, and some were mix tapes you’d made yourself.

“This is the more modern stuff. It’s easy to fall behind when you live so many lifetimes. So, I try to update what I’m listening to every decade. This is mostly 1970s and 80s,” you told him.

“Where shall we begin?”

“With hair like yours… Metallica?”

Key turned in the ignition, you ran the car and pushed the cassette into the player. Fight Fire with Fire began, the first few bars melodic and calm. Then, it kicked in. Eddie flinched at the noise, surprised but not alarmed.

He leaned forward, like he was trying to decode something hidden deep within the music. Slowly, a wide grin crept across his face. He snapped to face you. “What is this?” he demanded in pure delight.

“This is music,” you replied with a casual shrug. “Specifically, this type is called metal,”

“I like it.”

Eddie looked like he was going to cry when For Whom the Bells Tolls played. Like the guitar riff and gothic sound effects were going to heal the undead body he lived in. Fade to Black made the vampire melt into his seat. He laughed then held a hand out to you. You took it, letting him thread his fingers through yours.

“I do not know what happened to me. But if it was the only path I could have taken to being here in this… car… with you and this music, then I am glad I took it,” Eddie said, closing his eyes before you could respond with expression or word.

You watched him for a moment. Something about him like this – relaxed, weird, beautiful – made you want to squeeze him. Dig your nails in. Bite to test for firmness. It was muscle memory, you realised. Your mind didn’t know Eddie, didn’t remember him, but your body acted as though she’d been by his side forever. It was too easy.

“Since we’re already in the car, should we go get you some more appropriate clothes? Maybe some other supplies too?”

One of the large neighbouring towns had a Walmart that had just been built, and it boasted 24/7 opening hours.

Eddie opened his eyes and cocked his head. “Little witch, are you attempting to court me?”

You laughed. “Are you asking me if I’m asking you on a date?”

“A date,” Eddie repeated. He was a quick study. “Little witch, are you asking me on a date?”

He expected you to blush or groan with denial. The anticipation of your reaction was written all over his face. You’d not play into his trap so easily. Instead, you shrugged and casually replied, “What if I am?”

Eddie couldn’t control his face entirely; his eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “Then ask,”

“Eddie the unhexed, my mortal enemy, will you accompany me on a date to Walmart?”

…

1587

At the age of twenty, Edward felt old. Although he had only graduated from his teenage years days earlier, as he stood on The Lion’s deck face to face with the Atlantic Ocean, he was weary.

His mother had died in childbirth, which was not uncommon. The world hadn’t begun to record statistics on such occurrences, but all things averaged, eighteen of every hundred women would perish before the birth day of their baby was done. Likely, it was much more.

Edward’s father looked at him like he was the murder weapon of his wife, life-taking and constantly reflecting a bloody image back at him. He treated his son worse. Not as a loaded pistol or sharpened axe, but as a contagion. The plague or measles. Typhoid or smallpox. Something that elicited disgust, a disease to rid himself of at the very first chance.

Edward was sold to a farmer at age seven, destined to a life of hard labour and loneliness.

However, Edward was a fighter. He fought the conditions of his gory birth. The miserable childhood. And the farmer’s distrust of him around his daughter, Lizzy.

He didn’t have eyes for Lizzy. He kept his head down, tended to the animals, worked the land, and waited to be released from his workman’s contract. For eleven years, the farmer underfed Edward. He staved off malnutrition through the kindness of the farmer’s wife, the only person the farmer treated worse than Edward.

He was beaten and broken in, the subject of the farmer’s displaced rage at not fathering any sons of his own.

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Edward stood at his post expectedly. The contract was done. He had earned his freedom. Perhaps there would be an offer of legitimate farm work, which Edward would decline regardless. Perhaps a parting gift of a letter of recommendation. Perhaps simply a nod of acknowledgment. But nothing came.

He knew better than to go inside the family house, but by mid-morning, Edward couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Slowly, quietly, he crept in. Lizzy had grown up and left the farm, but there still should have been the noise of the wife.

The quiet was worse in some rooms than others. Edward followed the silence to the study.

The farmer was sitting in the corner of the room, curled up as if he weren’t the God-fearing iron-fisted master of the house. His rifle was held under his chin, ready for suicide.

The wife was sprawled out on the floor, eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, bleeding from somewhere Edward could not immediately see.

“Is she dead?” the farmer asked.

 Edward didn’t move.

“This is your fault, boy… Look what you made me do.”

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t Edward’s fault. A second dead mother would haunt him.

The gun went off, Edward flinched, half expecting to feel the bullet pierce through his body. His eyes were screwed shut and he was terrified to open them. He stood in the void of unknown for an entire minute. He counted the seconds in his head, one… two…, while he tried to imagine how he could have been the catalyst for the violence.

The sight of the farmer, face torn off and entirely limp, was seared onto the lens’ of Edward’s eyes forever.

On the desk was the contract signed when he was seven. His father’s signature had faded, the sign of cheap ink. Other documents were strewn around, including some that indicated to Edward that it was a possibility the farmer had no intention of honouring the contract’s end.

Among the papers, Edward found the key to the safe that was hidden beneath the staircase. Inside was what he considered to be a small fortune, but to the farmer it was pocket money. Edward took the cash, knowing he was incriminating himself, and returned to his post. He slung his one bag over his shoulder, took a horse, and never returned.

For days, weeks, and months after, Edward sat on the cusp of calm, always expecting to be hunted down and hung for a double murder. After a year, he slipped from the cusp and into a sense of normalcy.  

Edward found work in Plymouth, the port city home to enough taverns and underground establishments that he could choose between the kitchens or the brawling rings. He could butcher a pig as easily as he could take a punch. Ultimately, he earned the most when he picked up the lute and made music.

Despite landing on his feet, Edward lived in solitude, afraid that any woman he loved would meet an early death, and any man he trusted would turn on him for no reason. He went by the name Wayne, simultaneously distancing himself from his past while tying himself to it. Edward had only met his Uncle Wayne once. He had come for him when he was four, claiming that he could care better for his sister’s son than Edward’s father ever could.

When Edward was free from the farm, he considered trying to find Uncle Wayne. His father has ensured he knew nothing of the man though. He wouldn’t have known where to begin. Taking his name was all he could do.

For two years, Edward eavesdropped on the comings and goings of sailors, pirates, and kingsmen. In June of 1586, he heard of the return of ships from somewhere over the sea. They had run out of provisions. The attempt to colonise had been a failure. Next year. That’s what he had heard. Next year, they’d try again.

Edward felt, for the first time in his entire life, that he knew where he should go. The Lion’s manifest read Wayne Munson, birth 1567, and set sale on May 8 1587 with Governor White at the helm.

Sea travel was horrific. Edward was violently ill with motion sickness, his skin itched as the salt water dried on him, and he spent more time picking splinters out from under his nails than doing almost anything else. When, after two and a half months at sea, The Lion dropped anchor on the east coast of what would be come to known as North America, Edward could have kissed the earth. However, he was trying to maintain a low profile.

That is exactly how he came to learn that the violence he had been running from was an unstoppable force. In all his hope, Edward had underestimated the British’s capacity for it. When weapons were thrust into his hands at the turning of a war against the Native people of the land, Edward swallowed the stomach bile that had burst its way up into his mouth.

His mother’s death weighed heavily on him. The farmer’s wife too. Edward wasn’t a passivist, he had earned coin by beating men bloody, but he was not a killer. Certainly, he would not unjustly kill.

He thought maybe he could lie to the kingsmen, weave a story of priesthood. Here, in this new place, he would bring the holy word of God. A task the Queen herself would find more than noble. A task that could not begin with red on his ledger.

Alas, a colony of only a hundred would rely on each other. He had not the economic or social currency to show weakness. So, he fought.

Edward volunteered for any role that would take him out of the offensive lines. He went on reconnaissance trips and kept watch as others slept. He learned how to offer the most basic of medical aid, and how to sneak away from action without being missed.

It was on one of these secret trips that Edward came across a Native American who looked equally as surprised to see him. Edward had wandered off into the woodland that surrounded the colony, his weapon slung lazily over his shoulder, and his attention on the strange mushrooms growing along the forest floor.

The two men saw each other at the same time and froze in almost mirror positions.

Edward watched the man’s eyes flick to the weapon, then back to his face. He could tell he was reading him. Assessing what kind of White man Edward was. Slowly, Edward opened his hands and held them up, palms showing in a sign of submission.

“Peace,” Edward said softly.

The man took a step forward, a steely expression held firm. Edward tried not to flinch, instead offering a nod. The man came closer and closer until he could really see him. Neither of them wanted to cause the other harm. Edward knew that his individual intentions were irrelevant. He was part of a brutal regime.

In the distance, a gunshot echoed, startling both men. They ran in opposite directions, like two same-sided magnets repelling apart.

Edward told nobody of the encounter.

Just over a month later, the colonists were in a tense sort of truce with the Native Americans, but their resources were diminishing faster than they could be regenerated. They moved up the coast while the British fleet prepared to leave for England.

“If this is to be a true settlement, not a failure like Lane’s, we need provisions,” Edward listened to one of the colonists beg Governor White. It was a town meeting of sorts. “Return home. Tell them it was a mistake to come without a proper show of force. We need help.”

The fleet disappeared over the horizon near the end of August.

Within days, the knocking began.

Knock, knock.

When the sun set, a low mist would bleed out from the woodland. It came over the ocean, crossing the beach to get to the colony. Somewhere deep within it, something knocked twice, as if at a door asking for entry. They knocked on the hour, every hour until sunrise.

Knock, knock.

At first, the colony responded with a British stiff upper lip. They ignored it. They swallowed their fear. Then, when the cause for concern couldn’t be contained, they blamed the Native Americans. Except, it wasn’t how the Native Americans operated, and they hadn’t seen anyone but their own since the ships left.

Paranoia and dread set in. Superstition followed.

“What ungodly force has come for us?”

“Could it be the witches? They’re all over this land, you know!”

Edward listened to the unraveling of the people around him, but never offered his own theories or fears. Instead, one night, when the mist came in and the colony locked itself away, Edward found higher ground and watched. The mist was alive. There was simply no other conclusion to draw. It moved too quickly and appeared to have no relationship with the weather. It had a purpose. It licked around the settlement like it was hunting for something. Someone. Anyone.

Knock, knock.

Come morning, the colony’s livestock were slaughtered. Edward had stayed up all night, but he hadn’t seen it happen.  There had been no devils in the mist.

Knock, knock.

The children cried and the women kept themselves busy with work. The men burned the animals’ bodies, too afraid to eat any of the meat.

Knock, knock.

The next night, Edward took his perch again. And the next. And the next. Until, a week later, they came from the darkness.

He knew that they wanted to be seen. They knocked on doors, rapped knuckles on axes left in stumps. They knocked on trees and rocks, riding the fog in.

Edward saw them and there was nothing to be done about that. He saw their human forms wear human clothes but make inhuman movements. He saw them dancing, dragging animal carcasses behind them like royal capes. He saw them, and they saw him.

The colony was ripped apart. Men, women, and children all treated with equal brutality. Edward stayed positioned in his higher ground perch, witnessing evil while he held his breath and tried not to scream. Bodies limp like rag dolls. Blood drip drip dripping into buckets when neighbours were hung from trees. Horror. Carnage. Damnation.

It almost felt like mercy, Edward thought, the moment the warmth bloomed across his neck and down his chest. He stumbled as he stood from his hiding spot. The vampire was watching him curiously. Edward held a useless hand over the bite. It was mercy that he hadn’t seen the monster coming. He hadn’t felt the pain of the injury. He could just die, easily, simply, finally.

The vampire’s face broke out into a gleeful smile, its teeth off-white and sharp.

“Filius,” it hissed. Son.

The vampires had come for misery, mostly, but they had been watching the colony. They had watched the violence leveled at the Native Americans. They picked out their favourites, like children at a petting zoo. Favourites would be turned.

Edward had never been anyone’s favourite anything, until then.

When he dropped to his knees, the vampire was crouching before him. It reached out and patted Edward, watching his skin’s colour fade. Then, it pushed him onto the ground, leering over him.

Edward could feel himself dying. It was a strange sort of fading, unlike falling asleep, and nothing like he’d have expected. His senses were somehow still sharp. The sounds of the colony being bled and burnt. The smell of death and fire. He could see it all then, when the vampire bit down hard on its own wrist, tearing a gaping wound.

“Pótó,” it said to him.

Edward didn’t understand Latin, but he knew what it was saying. Drink. He held his lips together tightly. He would not follow at the heels of a monster. Whatever it wanted with him, he would not abide.

At first, Edward’s resistance amused the vampire. It let its blood drip and dribble onto his face. It grew bored quickly, clutching Edward’s head in its hands, its nails digging in, ready to pry his jaw open.

It was a blur. A weapon. Not enough to kill a vampire, but enough to send it tumbling away from Edward’s body. He felt strong arms wrap under him, pulling him up. Someone was dragging him away, yelling in a language he didn’t understand. There was fire, arrows dipped in it. Then, there was blackness.

Edward dreamed one last time.

The mist, it had still set itself upon the colony, but it wasn’t vampires. It was the witches. They looked like his mother and the farmer’s wife. Like the girl who could carry more pints at once than anyone else in the bar. Like the kid who lived on the streets that Edward would spare more money for than he could really afford.

The witches came with spells to heal and potions that tasted like warm honey, and reminded him of something he couldn’t place. They told stories to the children and baked enchanted bread with the women. For the men, there was nothing, but they watched from the sidelines with humility.

When Edward woke, the magic was gone.

He roared in pain, shooting up and panicking when his body was entirely out of his control, raging in agony, thrashing. Hands held him down, a voice doing its best to soothe him. It wasn’t enough.

Edward’s body felt hollow, like all his organs had shrivelled up, the blood lost through the septic wound in his neck. And, like any bones left inside him had shrunk too, turned brittle and too small to let him move as he wished. His flesh burned as if he’d been roasted on a spit. Everything was pain. There was nothing else.

It took only minutes for Edward to collapse again. He was vaguely aware of his own consciousness. Vaguely able to tell he was in some sort of cave or tree hollow. Something naturally formed and sheltered. Vaguely aware of a face he recognised hovering above him. As hands tried to stop the bleeding, Edward’s eyes closed.

End Note: For the anon that suggested it - 1986 Eddie listening to metal for the first time.

A huge thank you to @jo-harrington, who models exactly what it means to be a thoughtful writer. You help me navigate the writing world.

So... Did you ever think you'd get an Eddie origin story?

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

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[gaysullengirl]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. five things

❝ i hate it here so i will go to secret gardens

in my mind ❞ -taylor swift, i hate it here

   Isabelle Cruz absolutely despised five things.

One, failure. The feeling like she was never doing enough followed her around like a stray cat, mostly she hated the idea of being a failure to herself but the idea of other people being disappointed in her made her shudder.

Two, being perceived as weak- or being perceived at all.

Three, germs. Isabelle didn't care to relentlessly research articles about germs until she meet Spencer. She adored his ramblings except for the ones about germs- sometimes he was like a human germ encyclopedia.

Four, losing freckles during the winter. It was awful for the memory of each freckle to gradually disappear, Isabelle still mourned the loss of her favorite freckle, which was just underneath her left eye.

Five, feeling numb- which was unfortunately for her happening right now.

The sound of a gunshot rang through Isabelle's ears as sat on the curb just across the street from an unsub's house.

"First time you've ever shot an unsub?" Morgan curiously asked her.

"No." She responded, not even turning her head towards him.  

"Then what's the problem?"

'I don't know' Isabelle wanted to say but didn't, instead she continued staring at scene in front of her.

The front yard of the house was taken over by police officers and agents scattering in and out of the house.

"We caught him and saved David." Morgan said, hoping it would comfort Isabelle.

But it didn't, yes they caught the awful man killing children and yes, they saved a little boy, David.

But somehow she still she wasn't content.

It didn't feel right to be content.

Isabelle noticed Spencer walk to Morgan and whisper something to him but she didn't bother looking- or listening to their conversation.

Spencer sat down next to her and watched the scene with her.

"What are you thinking about?"

Isabelle stayed silent for a moment, debating if she should lie to him or tell the truth.

She sighed, "I just feel stuck, like I'm a security guard watching my entire life play out in front of me on tapes and I'm just- observing my own life."

"It's normal to feel like that after moving, humans tend to want what we can't have- and one of those things is control." He stated.

This was why Isabelle adored Spencer's ramblings, her brain made her think she was the only one going through something and therefore she'd never recover, but Spencer somehow managed to co

for her with facts and statistics.

"Why are you thinking about this right now?" Spencer asked.

"I always think about it- it takes up like 90% of my brain function."

"You've always spent too much time up here." Spencer responded, pointing to his head.

Isabelle just scrunched her eyebrows.

"I remember one time you were staring at the wall and I asked you 'what's on your mind?' and you told me you were yearning for your childhood."

"That's a reasonable thing to yearn for." Isabelle defended.

"I'm not saying it's not, I'm just saying you think too

much."

She scoffed, "Really, you're saying that to me? Spencer Reid is telling me I think too much?"

Spencer just shook his head slightly and smirked.

୨୧

The next day was filled with paperwork, paperwork, and paperwork.

It was the thing Isabelle hated most yet loved most about her job.

In the moment, it was hell, her hand cramping, racking her brain trying to remember what happened because she somehow already forgot.

But later, reading the reports, remembering the stories was something she could talk about for hours.

It was like opening an old journal that had sat collecting dust, reading over the things that caused so much anxiety at the time, which were now mundane.

"Hey do you wanna go to a bar with us?" Spencer asked and Isabelle smiled, "Yes I would love too, who going?"

"Me, Derek, Penelope, Emily, and Jj."

"Okay, just give me a sec-" Isabelle was cut off my her phone ringing.

'Unknown Number' It read, she clicked accept and brought the phone to her ear.

The only sounds that could be heard were heavy breaths, her eyebrows curled into confusion and she hung up.

"Um yeah, I'll be there in a sec." She told Spencer.

"Who was that?" "I don't know, it was just breathing must've been a butt dial or something."

authors note!

hope u enjoyed! :)

[destinysbounty]

I was gonna put this headcanon in a fic but i probably will never write it so instead im gonna share with all of you. Do with this idea as you wish

The fact that Pixal just up and built herself a new body in season 7 suggests she could have done it at any time, but chose not to. And i refuse to believe Zane and Borg didnt at least offer to give her a body - Zane admitted he preferred having her physical, im sure he at least suggested rebuilding her at one point. As he said in season 8, "The choice has always been yours, Pixal." Which leads me to believe she was the determining factor in her own reconstruction. She chose to stay in Zane's head, and Id like to think her reasons for doing so are similar to her reasons for hiding her identity as Samurai X: self-imposed guilt.

Let me explain.

Think of it like this. Pixal was built to assist, right? Even from the beginning of their relationship, she has been put in several positions of saving, protecting, and looking after Zane. Their first bonding moments involved her repairing him and later rescuing him from a junkyard metal shredder. Just as Zane has an integral need to protect built into the core of his existence, so too does Pixal have an integral need to assist.

When Zane gave her half his heart, he seriously disadvantaged himself in combat. Not only that, but it was his heart being unable to withstand the Golden Power that killed him in the end. Im sure there was at least some small part of Pixal that blamed herself for this. Not just because she might see this as a failure to uphold her reason for existence (helping people) - but also bc maybe if he'd had his whole heart during that fight, maybe if she'd just given it back to him, he might have had a fighting chance. It would have only marginally improved his chances of survival, but that small .003% probability increase is enough to make her blame herself. A probability that small is statistically irrelevant, but she cant help using it as an excuse to blame herself - or perhaps, to give her a rationalization for her survivor's guilt. Because the heart inside her, powering her, is the same heart Zane could have used to defend himself against the Golden Power, and the feeling of it inside her is unbearable.

Then Zane comes back, and she gets scrapped. And Zane forgets everything, and his mind is in shambles, and she has to help him piece himself back together again.

She blames herself for this, blames herself for his death and for the scrambled state of his memories that came as a consequence. So she figures, she caused this, so its her responsibility to help him fix his broken mind. Its her responsibility to assist.

So she stays in his head, where she can hold his memories together and keep his mind from falling apart. She insists she prefers it this way, likes being close to him, but deep down she longs for her physical freedom and hates herself for wanting more than she deserves.

Then Borg is kidnapped. And Zane is nonresponsive. And she has a choice. So she chooses to rebuild herself and leave Zane behind.

And...she feels good. Free. She's...happy about it.

But shes also deeply ashamed. Thinks she doesnt deserve to enjoy the experience of leaving Zane's head. He needs her, she's less useful to him outside his headset...and yet here she is, being Samurai X, having the absolute time of her life. She loves it, and she hates herself for loving it so much.

So out of shame, she tells no one. Shes worried theyll be just as disappointed in her as she is in herself.

And Zane...well, maybe theres a reason the Ninjigma didnt become a problem until after Pixal left his headset. Maybe she was the only thing holding him together, and the moment she left, all his memories started spiraling out of control. Maybe the events of Decoded turned out to be for the best, and allowed Zane to sort through and finish repairing his memories on his own, without relying on Pixal for help.

When Pixal reunites with Zane, shes worried he'll be upset. "Was i more...useful...inside the computer?" But to her surprise and delight, he prefers her in whatever form makes her happiest, not whatever form makes her most useful.

And Pixal, backed by the support of Zane and their friends, flourishes in her new role as Samurai X - not just in an assistive capacity, but exploring and embracing her interests in engineering and tinkering. Things are good, for a while.

But then Zane ends up in the Never Realm. And he comes home, and she learns what happened. She hears what Vex did, how she sabotaged his memories and twisted his own sense of self against him.

Once more, she blames herself. Begins to believe that maybe if she had still been in his headset, she could have prevented all that suffering.

Anyway, Pixal with survivors guilt and a raging hero complex my BELOVED

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

any thoughts on "Yuu got isekai'd by death" theory? the evidence ive seen people on twitter bring up is 1) the coffins symbolizing parting with your former world and rebirth into a new one 2) the way in Savanaclaw manga's Yuuka runs into the traffic trying to save a cat and then instead of a car we see the carriage. (it also would make sense that yuuken would ..get hit by some wild driver while he was waiting at a bus stop) someone also said that it would add more reasons to why crowley is avoiding the topic of going home.

Personally, I feel like the theory is lacking in concrete evidence 🤔 and what has been presented so far has been very circumstantial or could easily be interpreted in other ways (especially because of how vague Crowley’s intentions are). I can see where people are going with in regards to Yuuken, Yuuka, and even Yuuya (from the light novel) all suspiciously being transported to Twisted Wonderland at a crosswalk, but... I don't know, the pragmatic part of me is going, "Doesn't it make sense for them to see a carriage at a crosswalk??? That doesn't necessarily mean the Yuus all got ran over and reincarnated, even if that's what is typically associated with a lot of other isekai". (Also note that game Yuu doesn't give an explanation of what their most recent memory was before waking up in a new world, although this could just be the product of making game Yuu more readily self-insertable for the players.) The coffins are just something I see as an overall aesthetic thing (ie all students arrive at NRC in coffins and/or the carriage), so it doesn't make Yuu's arrival particularly special other than the being from another world aspect of them. I also think there's tons of possible explanations for why Crowley may be avoiding the subject of bringing Yuu home or not putting forth a lot of effort to return them. It doesn't necessarily have to include "Yuu is actually dead". For example, it’s been mentioned in the prologue itself that Crowley wants (even “needs”) Yuu to help his students get along, so there’s an inherent benefit to himself and the school. That is already plenty of incentive for Crowley to get Yuu to stay.

This wasn’t mentioned in the ask, but I recall also seeing a few on Twitter suggest that since Yuu and Grim live in Ramshackle with ghosts (ie the dead unable to move on), this may imply that Yuu (and maybe even Grim) are also dead?? Again, this is something that I feel could easily be explained away by the dorm just being abandoned and being convenient housing for misfits; ghosts usually lay claim to unoccupied spaces with a lot of magical energy (ie Ghost Marriage) and Ramshackle just happened to fit the parameters? The idea just brings up more questions than it answers, such as Twisted Wonderland as the (pseudo)afterlife (?), what are the implications for the other characters that already exist in this world (are they also all dead, or is it only Yuu?), why don't other Earthlings that die in accidents also isekai'd to Twisted Wonderland; does it require outside intervention/a spell? (like... Yuu has yet to meet anyone who is also from another world??? Statistically speaking, wouldn't there be more than just Yuu??), did Crowley kill a kid just to transport them to Twisted Wonderland (if he, in fact, did intentionally summon Yuu and only Yuu there)???? Or was that death coincidental and Crowley just happened to whisk them away after that? What would the issue be with telling Yuu they’re dead right away do they’re more willing and ready to adapt to a new life at NRC if Crowley wants their help with making his students get along? Why play the long haul and lie about it?

Overall, I think that it's a cool concept! Maybe something to explore for angst fics or fanart. I also confess that it’s a veeeery convenient excuse to keep Yuu forever in Twisted Wonderland and never actually return home (meaning the game can go on for longer and make more money). Still, it’s just not something I find myself completely sold on, especially when the evidence for it is very vague and has more immediate explanations offered for them. It also seems like it would actually explain very little as opposed to clearing things up 😅 so for now, I’m highly skeptical.

I feel like if TWST really wanted to foreshadow the “Yuu is dead” thing it could have been done in a much less obscure way (ie the game doesn’t outright tell us that Ortho died, but we get plenty of dialogue that hints that something is off with Ortho; something similar could have been done with Yuu, even if they aren’t the one overtly speaking. Maybe other characters can comment about their abnormalities, I don’t know.)

[funwalker]

The Curious Phenomenon of Player Turnover in Video Games and also a Review of Garden Story.

[This is a crosspost form cohost. The original was posted on Aug. 3, 2024.]

I played Garden Story.

It's a cute little game. Not quite what i expected when I played the demo (however many years ago that was now).

I had assumed it would be an adventure game in the vein of The Legend of Zelda where you pick your way through the world fighting monsters and solving puzzles, but it's really quite different from that, sort of blending in management sim(?) elements (managing your towns by gathering resources every day, fighting off monsters, fixing broken things around town, etc.).

A lot of games have trophies that act as milestones for player progress, like "beat the first boss", "beat the second boss", etc. There are four towns in this game which basically serve as chapters of the story. A play in four acts, you might say.

Now, I understand that for any given game--regardless of genre, regardless of length--it's unlikely that most players will finish it. Like all the way to the end. It's an interesting statistic, but people bounce off of games for all kinds of reasons, and I'm definitely guilty of this sort of thing as well. I was both a little surprised and also not surprised at all that only about 35% of players had beaten the first boss (according to the steam trophies).

For context, these are like, the numbers that you get when a player has to jump over some sort of hurdle. Some excerpts from my Steam library: Only about 40% of players made it past the first major story beat in Broken Age, and it's been a while since I've played it, but I'm pretty sure it's mostly due to obtuse solutions and some point and click jank. About 23% of people who looked past the finicky controls of Skatebird and made it to the second level. The number of people who made it past the tutorial of Deadly Premonition is about 45%. (Honestly, I'm surprised it's even that high, but I guess most people who pick it up know what they're in for...)

Garden Story is not an especially long game. Steam says I've played it for about 26 hours now, but probably 4 were tending to my towns post-game, and another 6 of those were the game just on in the background while i walked away to do something else. (It's one of those games that only saves at the end of an in-game day, so instead of completing a day and shutting it off, I usually opt to just leave it running.... ) [A memory floods into view of my hands as a child, turning off my tv but leaving my snes, ps2, wii, ps3 running as I go off to school. I return, play, finally save my game. the in-game clock reads 999:59, as it has for the last several days.] Does anyone else still do this? lol

But anyways, I think i clocked in at about 15 actual hours of play upon completion. Not long. Not short. Much of that time was spent extending days on into endless nights gathering every last resource from the land so I could upgrade my hammer or whatever.

The first town is definitely the shortest to complete from the start to the boss. It maybe took me about 2-3 hours, and those first hours bounced off about 65% of players. I honestly also thought about putting it down in that time.

I think it's fair to say that the gameplay at the beginning kinda drags. The game emphasizes how "cozy" it is in the trailer, which is kind of true, I suppose, but for me it lacks the satisfaction of something like a farmsim or puzzle game. The daily tasks are pretty shallow and usually uninteresting. Some of the quests (like finding rare resources for NPCs) are downright frustrating. It took me probably 4 or 5 days to find a single glass lens. 4 or 5 days of breaking the same 4 or 5 glass bottles on the beach. It was a quest that required two lenses, but I had the first before starting the quest, which may have skewed my perception of how easy it would be. Maybe I just got really unlucky. I nearly gave up on it though.

Starting out, Concord (your main character) is pretty weak. You have two pips of stamina which means you can attack twice before taking a break. Or you can run for a second and attack once. Or run for a few seconds and attack none. You're pretty slow. Combat--while not really challenging--takes a long time. You pick your way slowly through any screen with enemies. Attack, attack, recover, wait (the enemy is charging up it's rebuttal which takes a second), attack, sidestep, attack. Move on to the next one.

Add this little dance to the first boss fight (which, aside from the last, was the only one that killed me), where you have to wait for the boss to come down from the ceiling to become vulnerable and then you can only get a few weak whacks in before it retreats again... I can understand why a lot of people may not have had the patience to make it this far.

After this battle, you get your first upgrade to stamina (unless you're smarter than I am and equipped Concord's memory instead of Plum's), and that's when the game gained some semblance of fun for me. The difference between two and three pips of stamina is honestly an ocean.

I think maybe the player should've started out with 3 stamina instead of two and it really would've fixed a lot of issues I personally had starting out. Maybe they would've even retained another 10% of players past that first boss fight.

The story starting out doesn't appear to be anything special. Very fantasy-adventure-chosen-one-save-the-world but with cute little talking vegetables and also frogs. It's generally well written, though perhaps a bit needlessly padded in a way that had me skimming and skipping a lot of the dialogue, but I found myself actually getting into it as I went through the final town. There's something quite lovely and bittersweet about the ending that I like a lot, but it took quite a bit of time for me to get there.

All in all, I think it was a pretty alright game. I played it mostly as something to do at night and less as an actually engaging experience. The art is wonderful. The music is nice. I think the bosses are neat. I'm kinda sad that you can't fight them again in the post game. The story really only picks up in the last act, but it went a way I was not expecting from the outset and deals with themes of loss in a way that you don't see often, which I liked.

For as charming as I think this little game actually is, I can understand why 65% of players could not make it to even the second area. There are a lot of little things that add up. The nothingness of a lot of the daily missions. The tedium of fighting enemies. Confusing and under-explained mechanics. The reuse of certain interactable assets in ways that you can't interact with them and vice versa. The feeling that you must be missing something as you try to progress through the world.

There are things where I'm so sure that as a dev, having played through certain scenarios hundred of times, I would find acceptable, but as a player, having to interact with them only a few times, drove me nuts.

But putting that aside (after all, most of the people who did not finish the game had already left by that point), the question I'd like to ask is, "Why was the retention rate so bad, and how could I avoid such a thing in a game that I make?"

For me personally, I think this question can also be answered by a post I saw floating around on cohost a while ago about reasons for unfavorable ratings on Japanese indie games. A large part of it was those games not finding their target audiences. People complained that combat was too hard, the graphics were ugly, they wanted a different game than what they got.

So circling back to my first impressions, I honestly can't tell you whether the demo gave me a false impression of what the game would be like, but the impression I held of this game in my memory was indeed quite different from what I got. Looking at the launch trailer... well, it doesn't quite misrepresent the game but more like... beefs up its resume.

Scrolling through the first page of Steam reviews, I only saw two that wouldn't recommend this game and their main complaints are completely valid that the start of the game is pretty rough, tedious, and repetitive. Digging further, I think becomes apparent that the main complaint is the actual gameplay doesn't support what sold people on this game: the idea of a cozy gardening game. (Seemingly, some sources compared it to Stardew Valley, which gave people a false impression of what sort of game it would be.) Despite the incredibly high bounce off rate of players in the first couple hours of the game, most of the reviews on steam are positive. Probably, the take away from this is that most of the players that bounced off were just apathetic. The game isn't so irredeemable in the beginning to inspire anger. Some of the negative reviews even expressed a sympathy that they couldn't really recommend this game because it turned out they liked it in the end.

Looking past the presentation, I think this is a basic pacing problem. Like when reading a book, you need a hook to hold interest. Your book can be really good in the latter half, but if there's no interesting or urgent conflict to be resolved, a lot of people won't make it to the good part.

With games, this problem is two-fold. You need either a good gameplay hook or a story hook (preferably both). I've played games with mediocre stories because the gameplay was fun and vice versa, but you can't just coast off of both average story and gameplay. Obviously, some people will play anyways, but if you have something to say and you want that thing to be heard by anyone but the most dedicated players, I do think you need something to propel people. Especially if your game relies heavily on random generation and grinding to pad itself.

A "hook" doesn't have to be a big bombastic thing. Even without doing a bunch of fixes to clarify things in the design of the game--without changing the story or even the gameplay nearly at all--I think really it just needed a small adjustment, whether it's just that one extra pip of stamina to make early game combat and foraging more fun or even to trim out a lot of the superfluous dialogue. The art and the music are there. It just needs a little kick in the pants.

As a game designer, I try to keep in mind all of the reasons why someone would buy my game but not make it to the end, because I think that's the goal of most game designers--to find their target audience and give them a meaningful experience to engage with. That's kind of the nature of art, isn't it? I think maybe Garden Story became a good game eventually, but I do also think it had art at its heart the whole time. I know it maybe sounds like I didn't like it, but I really did enjoy it in the end.

Anyways, that's my onion. After about 10 hours into this game, I glanced at the Steam trophies and this piece was born. Haha.

Anyways, thanks for reading. Stay fresh.

It's summer in Texas. Pray for me.

[pathfinderunlocked]

Multimind Sorcerer - CR6 Sorcerer

As for how to deal with you, I'm of two minds. One of them is psychic and the other is dead.

Artwork by TsunamiXD on Twitter.

After taking a few weeks off, I'm back with a fairly straightforward addition to your NPC codex.

This sorcerer was, at one point in her life, just a psychic bloodline sorcerer, but she opened her mind too much and let something else in. Perhaps on purpose, or perhaps by accident - although she seems to have it mostly under control now, at least.

Since her only way of damaging corporeal enemies is magic missile, she's mainly a support caster. Casting magic missile with the Fearsome Spell metamagic is a solid play though.

Multimind Sorcerer - CR 6

The elven woman seems torn between staring intently at you as if seeing into your mind, and being distracted by what seems like a figment of her imagination that you can't see or hear.

XP 2,400 Elf Crossblooded Sorcerer 7 CE Medium humanoid (elf) Init +12 Senses low-light vision, see invisibility; Perception +4

DEFENSE

AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 15 (+1 deflection, +3 Dex, +4 mage armor) hp 32 (7d6+14) plus 12 temp hp Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +6; +2 vs. enchantment Defensive Abilities possessed bloodline arcana (6/day) Immune sleep

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft. Melee mwk quarterstaff +2 (1d6-1) Special Abilities psychic strike (6/day, DC 16)

Racial Spell-Like Abilities (CL 7th; concentration +10 (+12 to cast defensively))     1/day—disguise self (DC 14)

Sorcerer Spells Known (CL 7th; concentration +10 (+12 to cast defensively))     3rd (5/day)—purge spirit (DC 16), shadowmind (DC 17)     2nd (7/day)—false life (already cast), see invisibility (already cast), share memory     1st (7/day)—anticipate peril (already cast), mage armor (already cast), magic missile, shadow trap (CL 8th; DC 15), shadowfade (CL 8th)     0th (at will)—dancing lights, detect magic, disrupt undead (ranged touch +5, DC 13), light, ray of frost (fire), read magic

Bloodlines psychic, possessed

BASE STATISTICS

Without anticipate peril, false life, mage armor, and see invisibility, the sorcerer’s statistics are Senses low-light vision; Init +3; AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 11; hp 25.

STATISTICS

Str 8, Dex 16, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 12, Cha 16 Base Atk +3; CMB +2; CMD 16 Feats Eschew Materials, Fearsome Spell, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Reach Spell, Spell Focus (illusion) Skills Bluff +7, Knowledge (arcana) +6, Knowledge (religion) +6, Perception +4, Sense Motive +11, Spellcraft +11, Use Magic Device +7 Languages Common, Elven SQ arcane focus, bloodline arcana (possessed bloodline arcana, psychic spellcasting), crossblooded drawbacks, elven immunities, keen senses, shadowplay Gear potion of cure moderate wounds, masterwork quarterstaff, belt of mighty constitution +2, ring of protection +1, soul soap (2), 35 gp

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Arcane Focus (Ex) Elves with this racial feature gain a +2 racial bonus on concentration checks made to cast arcane spells defensively.

Possessed Bloodline Arcana (Su) 6 times per day, when the multimind sorcerer casts a non-cantrip spell, she can roll the next Will save she attempt against a mind-affecting effect before her next turn twice and take the better result. If she has already failed a save against a mind-affecting effect, she can instead attempt another Will save against that ongoing mind-affecting effect after successfully casting her spell. The multimind sorcerer can use this ability only once against a given mind-affecting effect.

Psychic Spellcasting (Su) The multimind sorcerer's sorcerer spells and spell-like abilities count as psychic instead of arcane. She uses thought and emotion components instead of verbal and somatic components when casting her spells.

Psychic Strike (Su) 6 times per day, the multimind sorcerer can target one creature within 30 feet that she can see; that creature must succeed at a Will saving throw (DC 16) or it takes 1d6+3 points of damage and becomes shaken for 1 round. The save DC is Charisma-based.

Shadowplay (Ex) Elves with this racial feature cast spells with the darkness, light, or shadow descriptor at +1 caster level.

[sntechsupport]

Hey, I have a few questions about whatever the fuck just happened.

Why did our session still generate when we all died trying to enter

Why were all our dream selves sleeping in crypts in derse and prospit's cores instead of being dead in normal towers on moons containing more normally-placed crypts

Why were the moons completely missing

What the fuck is a dream bubble

Why the fuck could one of my co players control an alchemized rc drone from outside the session using a dreamed-up remote controller

Ad 1: Being dead doesn't stop you from playing, as you have found out by now.

Ad 2: Upon death of the Waking Self, the Dream Self begins stops shoving signs of life (despite it not being dead) and the Carapacians consider it to be dead. They move all Dream Selves they consider dead (whether truly dead or not) to the Crypt in the Dream Moon's Core.

Ad 3) Dream Moon Moons (Prospit Moon and Derse Moon) are a starting location for the Dream Selves; they hold the Dream Rooms and some introductory NPCs. However, if all Dream Selves from on Moon are moved to the Crypt before they can Wake Up, the probability that the Dream Rooms get even visited and the intro NPCs spoken to are basically null (we ran statistics on this). Game saves power and memory and just deletes them. You can re-spawn those locations if you want by checking Enable Pointless Areas and then refreshing the game.

Ad 4) Dream Bubble is where ghosts go from the Incinisphere. AKA: If you die in game and you don't have a Dream Self, this is where your consciousness is moved to. Dream Bubbles are not a part of the game, they were made solely by the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors. As Dream Bubbles are space pockets made to withhold conscience, their "geografy" is an external projection of your thoughts... and of other people's thoughts as they collide. That doesn't shift as much as you'd think; once you your senses perceive something, you tend to subconsciously think about the thing more, therefore reinforcing its existence in the Dream Bubble. Funnily enough, the Dream Bubbles hang on "Sleeper Code" like the Dream Selves, which means that if you are sleeping and do not have a Dream Self, your consicousness gets temporarily moved there too.

Ad 5) That sounds like a Resistance Aspect Player bullshit. Happens. Be grateful.

Sincerely

SN Tech Support (Gear)

[hollislp]

Current Minecraft mods [Fabric 1.20.1]

A list of mods (with links) that I use regularly

This list assumes you have fabric api and cloth already in the mods folder

[mods in italics are not needed if using OptiFine]

[libraries and cores not included, some mods require additional mods to work]

3d skin layers

makes the outer layer of skins 3d

advancement info

shows what criteria needs to be met to get achievements

ambient sounds

adds ambient background noise

animatica

adds the ability to add animated textures without optifine

better f3

lets you choose what information is shown on the F3 menu

better mount hud

allows you to see both hunger and mount health while riding a mount

better statistics screen

makes the stats screen easier to traverse

better ping display

shows numerical ping instead of bars

chat heads

shows the head of the player along with their chat message

cit resewn

adds the ability to add custom item textures without optifine

clickthrough

allows you to click through signs and item frames into containers

continuity

allows you to add connected textures without optifine

cosmetica

adds cosmetics

cull less leaves

improves fps by leaf culling in a subtle way

death log

adds a list of causes of death and dates

debugify

fixes bugs on the minecraft bug tracker

disable custom worlds advice

turns off the "experimental features" message on worlds

draggable lists

makes lists like the texture pack list and server list draggable

dynamic fps

turns minecraft to 1 fps when not focused on

emoji type

adds the ability to type unicode symbols and emotes in chat

entity texture features

adds the ability for custom entity textures without optifine

extreme sound muffler

turn off specific sounds without a resource pack

fabric sky boxes

allows texture packs to add custom skies without optifine

fast quit

lets you return to the title screen instantly when closing a world

ferritecore

saves computer memory

friendly fire

makes it so you can't accidentally hit baby mobs and tamed mobs

immediately fast

optimizes rendering

indium

rendering optimization for the sodium mod

iris

shaders without optifine

lamb dynamic lights

dynamic lights without optifine

litematica

allows you to place a building schematic in your world

lithium

optimization

load my resources

loads game resources on start

memory leak fix

fixes several memory leaks

model fix

fixes the stitching gap in item models

mod menu

adds a menu to view and manage mods from

more chat history

increases the chat history to 300 messages

mouse tweaks

allows you to drag items into and from containers without moving the mouse

no fog

removes fog

not enough animations

adds many animations [climbing ladders, rowing boats, etc]

puzzle

easily manage optifine alternatives

reeses sodium options

adds more options for sodium

replay mod

allows you to record 3rd person gameplay

screenshot to clipboard

whenever a screenshot is taken it automatically copies to clipboard

shulkerbox tooltop

hover over shulker boxes in the inventory to see exactly what's inside

sodium extra

control more things than just base sodium

sodium

optifine alternative

symbol chat

adds a menu to type more symbols and change your chat font

visual workbench

see what items are in your workbench and what it's crafting

worldedit cui

shows what you have selected in world edit

worldedit

adds tools to make creative mode building easier

yosbr

keeps your options

zoomify

allows zoom without optifine

ORIGINS SERVER MODS

additional lanterns

more lanterns

bits and chisels

super small building

chipped

TONS of different blocks

clutter

small items like furniture and decorations

extra origins

adds more origins to the origins mod

handcrafted

more furniture and small items

origins

turn into different mobs (and more)

origins plus plus

adds even MORE origins

rocks

adds sticks and rocks

roughly enough items

adds a menu that allows you to see crafting recipes of all items

[lospollozru]

Phantom Liberty: High Anticipation in the World of Cyberpunk 2077

Release Date: September 26, 2023.

Platforms: PC, PlayStation 5, and Xbox Series.

Despite its troubled launch in 2020, Cyberpunk 2077 has gradually improved, and now, CD Projekt RED is preparing to release its largest expansion in the game's history - Phantom Liberty.

What Is Phantom Liberty About?

The narrative expansion will place players in the city of Pessy, which is a blend of impoverished districts and free-trade zones. Corporations steer clear of this area, making it dangerous yet appealing to treasure hunters and those seeking to disappear.

Players will once again step into the shoes of the mercenary V and their faithful companion, the digital copy of Johnny Silverhand. Phantom Liberty's events will unfold before the main game's conclusion, and gamers will be tasked with saving the President of the New United States of America, Rosalind Myers, after her shuttle crashes in Pessy City.

Changes in Gameplay

Combat While Driving: Now, battles in cars and motorcycles become a core mechanic and are accessible at any time. This includes the ability to use melee weapons during vehicle combat.

Changes in the Police System: The police system is now more realistic. Police response will depend on the nature of the violation and the area in which it occurs. Police no longer appear instantly, and at higher wanted levels, SWAT teams known as "Max-Tac" may join the pursuit.

Changes in the Skill System: Clothing will no longer affect V's statistics. Instead, effectiveness will depend on the implants installed, which promise to provide new abilities and enhancements. V's maximum level will increase from 50 to 60.

Biotech Skill Tree: An additional skill tree in the form of a biotech chip will be added to the game. Abilities from this tree can be unlocked by finding information terminals owned by the "Militech" corporation in Pessy City.

Additional Story Development

New Ending: The expansion will introduce a new ending that depends on the player's decisions during the narrative missions of Phantom Liberty. This will allow users to experience a new epilogue for the main game.

New Soundtrack: Composers Petr Adamchik and Jacek Paczkowski have created a new soundtrack that will include more classic cyberpunk motifs and spy thriller elements.

Three New Radio Stations: Three new stations with diverse music will be introduced, including heavy tracks and melodies in the style of club and electronic music.

How to Prepare for the Release of Phantom Liberty

Replay Cyberpunk 2077: Return to the world of Night City and refresh your memories before the release of the expansion. It's important to note that Phantom Liberty will be available for both new and existing characters.

Create a New Character: You can create a new character and make different decisions to unlock alternative endings and experience a new storyline.

Use the Ability Calculator: Use the official ability calculator to plan your character build in advance.

Phantom Liberty promises to be the largest and most exciting expansion for Cyberpunk 2077, introducing numerous new gameplay possibilities and variations, while enriching the game's narrative and music. Get ready to return to Night City and embark on new adventures in the cyberpunk world!

Find keys and accounts for this cult game here: https://lospolloz.ru/accounts-cyberpunk-2077

[bleakfated]

INTERACTIONS. HEADCANONS. PHOTOS. IISMS. WISHLIST. OPENS. SC.

STATISTICS

BASICS: name: theodore lucas bristol age: mid 30s-40s gender & pronouns: male, he/him sexuality: heterosexual faceclaim: jason momoa occupation: hunter and owner of the bar the crossroads location: smith center, kansas unless hunting, take a peek at his house

PERSONALITY: positive traits: warmhearted, courageous, optimistic, honest negative traits: impulsive, stubborn, blunt, moody

APPEARANCE: scars: a few from hunting, nothing significant tattoos: antipossession tattoo on chest, shark teeth tattoos on left leg and arm piercings: none

VERSES

BIOGRAPHY

TL;DR

Theodore Bristol is the owner of the hunter bar The Crossroads in Smith Center, Kansas and is often bartending there. He opened it alongside his mentee Cameron Ambrose whom he met at the ashes of Harvelle's Roadhouse. Theodore still hunts a few times a month and has hired on a couple of extra bartenders to ensure The Crossroads is always open. He got into hunting after being attacked by a vampire when he was seventeen and hasn't ever looked back to normal life. Very close friends and the women that frequent the bar are permitted to call him Teddy, while everyone else calls him Theo.

FULL BIO

Theodore Bristol was born on March 28, 1978. He lived a rather normal life up until he was seventeen. His parents had instilled a strong sense of responsibility into their four sons, which meant part-time jobs in high school. Teddy instantly became more interested in making money than the various sports teams he had been involved in throughout middle school and his early high school years, so he quit the teams and focused more on his studies and his fast food job which helped pay for his jiu-jitsu lessons instead. When working later shifts he often opted to walk home rather than drive, largely so he wouldn’t get caught driving after curfew again if a closing shift didn’t go well. This bit him in the ass one night when he had stayed later than he should have and then needed to meet up with a friend to put some finishing touches on a group project.

Cutting through the local scrap yard to save time as he was desperately exhausted and it was nearing midnight, Teddy happened upon a tearful woman leant up against the fence he was about to hop at the far side of the yard. Concerned, he paused at the fence to offer assistance when he found himself knocked to the ground, winded, with the woman on top of him baring exposed fangs. With his jiu-jitsu training, he was able to gain the upper hand, outmaneuvering her clearly superior strength. Instead of continuing to fight, Teddy thought he could run and was nearly tackled once more by the woman whom seemed to run impossibly fast. Blindly throwing her off of his back, he turned to face her to be met with a gruesome scene. She had been thrown into the sharp frame of an abandoned shelf and nearly decapitated.

The image of her face, accompanied by bared fangs was etched into his memory forever and a prominent feature of many nightmares. He never told anyone about the encounter, because nobody would believe anything that he'd seen. The narrative the police went with when they found her body was that a drug addict had slipped down one of the mountains of scrap while looking for something to steal to make a quick buck and met her untimely demise. After this, Theo spent a lot of time at the public library and began to research monsters, because he recognized that he had nearly fallen victim to a vampire. Upon graduation, he took a bartending job and continued to work on his physical strength. Largely through continued jiu-jitsu, rock climbing, and physical labor which also helped with some extra cash. He started to scan headlines for anything that looked suspicious and eventually took on his first hunt.

Being so inexperienced, the news caught his eye much later than another hunter named Jerry had noticed it. Showing up late and with clear ineptitude, the hunter begrudgingly agreed to show the Teddy how it was done so he wouldn’t get himself killed. After they got the vampire, Jerry sat down with him at a diner and gave him different tips of what in a case could suggest certain monsters and how to kill them as well as where to look for reliable monster information. He also gave him the address to Harvelle’s Roadhouse where he could go for a safe space for people like themselves, where he may even find extra tips or advice if he was among the right company. The two parted ways, but Teddy often called Jerry up for advice throughout the years as he gained his footing in hunting.

A few years into hunting, his parents were killed by a vengeful vampire mate that had tracked down his family. His brothers assumed it had been a vendetta around Theo’s sketchy lifestyle and cut him out of their lives before he had the chance to explain himself. He checked up on them regularly for a while, conflicted, because he wished he had let them all know about vampires at the very least so they could protect themselves. In the end he decided that a clean break was best for everyone. If he was estranged from them, hopefully anything he accidentally let get away wouldn’t think to go after them. It was a very hard lesson about not leaving behind loose ends, even though he had never had the slightest inkling that the vampire had a mate.

Around six years later, Teddy was traveling to The Roadhouse after a particularly rough case only to find the burnt remnants of the building he had once considered as close to home as he’d had in his adult life. He noticed a kid staring at the ash from his tailgate when he pulled up and saw a lot of his younger self in him, since Teddy had been around the same age when he started hunting. The two talked for a couple of hours, and Teddy realized he had heard of the young man's mother a few times at The Roadhouse. He took the young man, named Cameron, under his wing moreso than Jerry had for him around a decade ago.

The hole that for The Roadhouse had left grew until Teddy could no longer bear it and with what was left of his portion of the estate sale of his parents’ and some money from Cameron, he bought a bar in Smith Center, Kansas, a location that was as close to the geographic center of the continental US with a bit of a population to support the business outside of hunters. He named it The Crossroads and he runs the place with the help of Cameron and a couple of other trusted hunters he hired on. Teddy makes sure to go on hunts a few times a month because saving people is still very important to him, but he takes running the bar very seriously.

Most know him by the name of Theo, but he lets those that get close to him call him Teddy if they wish to and he doesn't mind if the women that frequent his bar prefer to call him Teddy. Don’t let the nickname or generally pleasant demeanor fool you, however. He will not hesitate to drag anyone causing any sorts of problems in the bar out by their hair and ban them from The Crossroads permanently. The patrons of the bar know to treat other hunters with respect and an eagerness to keep the hunting community connected and with access to various resources. There are a couple of pool tables but hustling of any kind is prohibited.

[jnvjldsnvv]

Exploring the Ingenuity of Fuji PLC Drives by FSC Group

In the intricate dance of gears and circuits that constitutes modern industrial automation, the choice of components is a pivotal factor in determining the symphony’s success. FSC Group, a beacon of innovation in this realm, stands out with its groundbreaking Fuji PLC Drives. In this article, we embark on a journey to unravel the ingenuity behind Fuji PLC Drives, discovering how they propel industrial processes to new heights.

Unraveling Fuji PLC Drives: Precision in Motion

At the heart of FSC Group’s offerings lies the revolutionary Fuji PLC Drive. In the complex ballet of industrial machinery, these drives emerge as the choreographers, orchestrating precision in motion. Unlike conventional drives, Fuji PLC Drives go beyond mere functionality; they embody a commitment to excellence, delivering unparalleled control and efficiency.

The genius of Fuji PLC Drive lies in their adaptability to diverse industrial environments. Whether in a bustling manufacturing plant or a sophisticated assembly line, these drives seamlessly integrate to provide a bespoke solution for motion control. The result? A cascade of benefits, including heightened precision, reduced downtime, and enhanced productivity.

Navigating the Industrial Landscape with Fuji PLC Drives

To truly understand the impact of Fuji PLC Drive, it’s essential to delve into the intricacies of their application. Consider a scenario where precision is non-negotiable – say, in a manufacturing plant responsible for crafting intricate components. Fuji PLC Drive shine in such environments, offering a level of control that ensures each movement is a masterpiece of accuracy.

Historical data paints a vivid picture of the transformative power of Fuji PLC Drive. Companies that have embraced these drives report an average reduction of 25% in downtime, a testament to the robustness and reliability of this innovative technology. This statistic translates not only to tangible cost savings but also to a significant boost in overall operational efficiency.

Crafting Success with Fuji PLC Drives: A Real-world Example

Let’s step into the shoes of a manufacturing facility grappling with the challenge of enhancing production efficiency. By incorporating Fuji PLC Drives, this hypothetical company experiences a paradigm shift. The drives seamlessly integrate with existing systems, providing a level of control that was previously elusive.

In this scenario, Fuji PLC Drives facilitate precise control over conveyor belts, robotic arms, and other critical components. The result is a streamlined production process where each component moves with the exactitude of a well-rehearsed ensemble. Downtime becomes a distant memory, and the manufacturing facility achieves a level of efficiency that translates to a 30% increase in overall output.

The Fuji PLC Drives Advantage: Beyond the Numbers

While statistics provide a quantitative understanding of the impact, the Fuji PLC Drives advantage extends beyond mere numbers. It lies in the intangible benefits that reverberate through the entire industrial ecosystem. Consider the empowerment of maintenance teams – with Fuji PLC Drive, troubleshooting becomes more accessible, and proactive maintenance becomes a reality.

Furthermore, Fuji PLC Drive contribute to the longevity of machinery, minimizing wear and tear through precise control. This not only prolongs the lifespan of equipment but also reduces the frequency of replacements, resulting in substantial long-term cost savings for businesses.

Fuji PLC Drives: A Versatile Solution One of the defining features of Fuji PLC Drive is their versatility. These drives are not confined to a specific industry or application; instead, they serve as a universal solution to the dynamic challenges of motion control. Whether it’s in the realm of automotive manufacturing, food processing, or any other sector, Fuji PLC Drive seamlessly adapt to the unique demands of each environment.

Consider, for instance, a scenario in a high-precision CNC machining center. Fuji PLC Drive play a pivotal role in regulating spindle

movements with unmatched accuracy, ensuring that each cut is executed with surgical precision. This adaptability positions Fuji PLC Drive as a cornerstone solution for industries characterized by diverse and complex motion control requirements.

Redefining Possibilities with Fuji PLC Drives

In conclusion, Fuji PLC Drive by FSC Group represent more than just a technological innovation; they signify a paradigm shift in the way industries approach motion control. With a team rooted in a blend of experience and dynamism, FSC Group stands at the forefront of this transformative journey. The historical data, real-world examples, and versatile applications of FUJI plc drive underscore their indispensable role in elevating industrial automation.

As industries continue to evolve, the demand for precision and efficiency becomes non-negotiable. Fuji PLC Drive, with their unmatched control capabilities, position themselves as not just a solution but a necessity. FSC Group, with its unwavering commitment to excellence, emerges as the beacon guiding industries towards a future where every motion is a testament to precision and every drive is a step towards operational brilliance.

[redwineconversation]

Olympique Lyonnais - Ajax Postgame Thoughts

I hate losing almost as much as I hate the thought of Malard being a regular starter, so this game was not fun in any sense of the term.

Before I get to the cause of my stress and anxiety for the upcoming season (also known as Malard potentially playing 90 mins on a regular basis): what the fuck was up with the state of the pitch? I have never seen in look that horrible, and I've seen them play in torrential rain and the freezing cold. This looked like a pitch of a Division 3 team, not one on Lyon's home grounds. I'm really hoping that was addressed in the postgame interviews but I think OLPlay said those will only be up on Monday. It was absolutely appalling, especially in front of goal.

Speaking of goal, watching Endler today was an emotional rollercoaster. When Endler is on, she's a monster in goal, when she's off, you find yourself staring longingly at your anti-anxiety meds. We got to experience both today. There were nerves from Endler that I am honestly not used to seeing, especially in a relatively low stakes game. Ajax's first goal came off an Endler error when she tried to clear the ball (straight at an Ajax player?). There were other nervy clearances. It's honestly perplexing that she showed more emotional composure in the UWCL semifinal than she did in this game.

But once Lyon came to 1-1, Endler settled down a bit, and came up with some pretty big saves. That was the Endler I am used to seeing. There wasn't really anything she could have done on Ajax's second goal, so I'm giving her a pass on that. Regardless, those nerves have got to be addressed by the time the season actually starts, because as toothless as PSG is right now, I doubt they will be as forgiving as Ajax was.

I've ripped on the academy kids before and will continue to do so. I don't care how much potential you show in practice, the reality is as soon as you're against a pro team, you find yourself being bullied off the ball and making mistakes. Sombath, Marques and Mendy were good and I wouldn't be surprised if they make the bigger team sheets, but otherwise the rest should be but a distance bad memory by the time the big hitters are back.

If Lindsey Horan was a little rusty, Vanessa Gilles was not, and that could just be because Gilles has been back a little longer than Horan. Dabritz was in between the two: there was obvious rust, but you could tell she isn't far away from being back.

M'Bock is slowly coming back. I was a bit surprised when she came on as early as she did (approximately 20 mins remaining) if only because Bompastor had said she might get a "few" minutes depending on whether Lyon was controlling the game. Whilst I wouldn't say the game was out of Lyon's control, they weren't exactly in control either.

Malard is so bad that I will take an academy kid starting every game instead of her playing. As I said to someone privately, Lyon will be deliberately shooting themselves in the foot if they keep her rather than sending her out on loan. The more she finds herself in the starting lineup and playing all 90 minutes, the more it proves that her statistics in the 2021-2022 season was merely a result of being propped up by better players rather than actually being a star player.

Which leads me to what I really want to talk about: the one that got away Leuchter. Lyon had expressed interest in her after her performance at the Euros but Ajax had been unwilling to sell. I'm hoping that her performance today put her back on Lyon's radar, though I question again whether Ajax would be willing to sell especially with the UWCL qualifying rounds coming up. Never say never though I will say it's unlikely. She's an extremely good player, she's fun to watch, and she actually scores goals unlike Malard. Lord knows Lyon could use that.

Whilst I do absolutely hate losing, especially at home (though with the state of the pitch I guess I am allowed to pretend we were playing elsewhere), this loss isn't going to make me toss and turn too much. Ajax was basically at full strength plus or minus a couple of players and Lyon was playing with their low B / borderline C team.

Back in preseason 2021, Lyon got their ass absolutely handed to them by Bayern in a preseason game (Bayern was up 4-0 at HT before Renard scored a couple of goals to make the scoreline less embarrassing) and the 2021-2022 season wasn't a complete disaster. That being said Bompastor wasn't as obsessed with her youth academy experiment back then, so maybe it's not as good a premonition as I like to pretend it is.

Anyway, what did we learn from this game? Nothing that we already didn't know, really. Endler needs a stable defense in front of her to feel confident, @OL midfield feel like pure shit just want you back, @god can we please get our real forwards back ASAP. But we already knew all that.

[financialsecrets]

An Audience of One

Hello GmaKelly and I want to talk to you about An Audience of One? How do you write, how to pick your topics and who is your Audience? An Audience of One I read some articles today while doing some research and came across this term. "Engage one audience, deliver one message and craft one call to action". Then I found a new term "An Audience of One", and a bell went off. If you Engage an Audience of One, Create a Message for that Audience of One, and have One Call To Action directed at that same Audience of One, would your message go further? Instead of trying to be All Things to All People and Answer all the Questions in a Topic in One Post. Just write for One Person, One Message, One CTA. If your friend comes to you with a problem, your going to sit and talk to him/her about the problem. You might give him advice or refer him to another friend. But your not going to address a group of people to resolve your friends problem. Make Your Message Relatable to One Person Even if you have 100's or 1,000's of followers they are all just one individual with individual problems. Write like your sitting down with a cup of coffee and having a conversation. Show pics and videos, give steps one at a time, one on one connection. It will feel good to you and to the reader. When speaking to a group or large audience, your topic can become so generalized that you lose the focus. If you write a conversation with one person you can hone in on that one piece and expand on it more intimately. Share your experience, share your frustration, share your opinion, share your solution. It's all about the Conversation. Create a Conversation Think like your readers, let them know you understand their struggles. Share stories, or a memory, humanize yourself. Let your readers know your not just some Program out here writing content and spitting it out. Use a conversational tone, as if talking to a friend. It makes it more personalized and friendly., The Audience of One that you're writing to is so many people. We all end up having the same "kinds" of issues in life and work. With Blogging, it's SEO, and Views, and CTR. But all of those things started with one person. Being open and honest, even friendly with your readers will bring them back to your Blog to read your Posts more regularly. Today we prefer a conversation over a report, or statistics. One Call to Action If you address your CTA as if you're addressing one person, making it more personal and friendly. Helping each other is actually what Blogging is all about. I believe that using this strategy can improve the reach and traffic to your site. And as a result create more conversions. So the idea of An Audience of One, may be what we all need to think more about when we're writing and making offers. And never forget the Audience of One are people looking for answers to their questions. They are looking to you for the answers so be clear, concise, honest and friendly. Final Thoughts My grandson is in Syria at the time of writing. I need to write him another letter and get it out in the mail. We don't write anything of value anymore and when we do write it's a tweet or a text or whatever. I want to write valuable content, that matters to someone. I know that someone out there has stumbled putting all this together, I know I did, more than once. When you're writing keep Value at the front of your mind. As if you're Writing a letter to someone you love. Value, it matters. And I can bet you, if you couldn't figure out how to put this or that together, someone else had the same problem. Share your solution, it could save someone else hours, that's Value. If you have any questions or comments, please leave them below. What do you think of the Audience of One? I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for sharing your time with me. GmaKelly Read the full article

[foyil420-blog]

An Audience of One

Hello GmaKelly and I want to talk to you about An Audience of One? How do you write, how to pick your topics and who is your Audience? An Audience of One I read some articles today while doing some research and came across this term. "Engage one audience, deliver one message and craft one call to action". Then I found a new term "An Audience of One", and a bell went off. If you Engage an Audience of One, Create a Message for that Audience of One, and have One Call To Action directed at that same Audience of One, would your message go further? Instead of trying to be All Things to All People and Answer all the Questions in a Topic in One Post. Just write for One Person, One Message, One CTA. If your friend comes to you with a problem, your going to sit and talk to him/her about the problem. You might give him advice or refer him to another friend. But your not going to address a group of people to resolve your friends problem. Make Your Message Relatable to One Person Even if you have 100's or 1,000's of followers they are all just one individual with individual problems. Write like your sitting down with a cup of coffee and having a conversation. Show pics and videos, give steps one at a time, one on one connection. It will feel good to you and to the reader. When speaking to a group or large audience, your topic can become so generalized that you lose the focus. If you write a conversation with one person you can hone in on that one piece and expand on it more intimately. Share your experience, share your frustration, share your opinion, share your solution. It's all about the Conversation. Create a Conversation Think like your readers, let them know you understand their struggles. Share stories, or a memory, humanize yourself. Let your readers know your not just some Program out here writing content and spitting it out. Use a conversational tone, as if talking to a friend. It makes it more personalized and friendly., The Audience of One that you're writing to is so many people. We all end up having the same "kinds" of issues in life and work. With Blogging, it's SEO, and Views, and CTR. But all of those things started with one person. Being open and honest, even friendly with your readers will bring them back to your Blog to read your Posts more regularly. Today we prefer a conversation over a report, or statistics. One Call to Action If you address your CTA as if you're addressing one person, making it more personal and friendly. Helping each other is actually what Blogging is all about. I believe that using this strategy can improve the reach and traffic to your site. And as a result create more conversions. So the idea of An Audience of One, may be what we all need to think more about when we're writing and making offers. And never forget the Audience of One are people looking for answers to their questions. They are looking to you for the answers so be clear, concise, honest and friendly. Final Thoughts My grandson is in Syria at the time of writing. I need to write him another letter and get it out in the mail. We don't write anything of value anymore and when we do write it's a tweet or a text or whatever. I want to write valuable content, that matters to someone. I know that someone out there has stumbled putting all this together, I know I did, more than once. When you're writing keep Value at the front of your mind. As if you're Writing a letter to someone you love. Value, it matters. And I can bet you, if you couldn't figure out how to put this or that together, someone else had the same problem. Share your solution, it could save someone else hours, that's Value. If you have any questions or comments, please leave them below. What do you think of the Audience of One? I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for sharing your time with me. GmaKelly Read the full article