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PostSubject: Seeking a Mentor   Thu May 10, 2012 9:48 pm

Hey there. Smile



I'm looking for a mentor. Someone that can share how I can better myself as a superhero, and someone that I can talk with to get stuff off my chest when it's holding me back, because in the past I've shared a bit too much on the forums about myself which I also think a mentor could help with; helping me know what not to share or be open about and why, and whatnot.

....Anyway, hope to here from you. Smile



--204
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Urban Avenger

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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Thu May 10, 2012 11:38 pm

I think thats a good start.

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releanr



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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Thu May 10, 2012 11:42 pm

I don't know so much about a mentor. Few people on the internet have the experience necessary to give truly good, unbiased advice. But seeking a colleague.... that's something I can relate to.
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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Fri May 11, 2012 12:06 am

Also, how would the whole mentor thing go? Like, do you spend a little time chatting/emailing to try and get to know each other better, or do I just go to my mentor when I have a question about something?

Also, another thing that might be a good idea mentor wise is if the mentor was an rlsh when they were a teenager as well so that they could relate somewhat.

@UA: Thanks. Would you be interested? You seem like a cool guy. Smile

@Releanr: Nice to meet you, are you new to the site? Always nice to meet a new colleague. Smile
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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Fri May 11, 2012 12:11 am

I dunno. I don't have a lot of free time on my hands, but my email is always open.

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releanr



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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Fri May 11, 2012 12:42 am

I'm "new". Been skulking around for a few months, getting my own operation in my city together. Just recently started posting, as I'm not one to talk much about my experience, given that I live in an... interesting area. Used to live in a bad part of Los Angeles, so it's not as bad where I am.

But where I used to deal with gangs, I now have drug dealers to contend with. My primary goal is to clear them from the school areas right now (coordinating with my local CPO for that) and to reduce crimes against the homeless here. It's pretty bad... What's worse, most of these "crimes" are actually "laws". It's pretty disgusting how the homeless are treated here. I'm unsure how to handle the homeless problem right now, I'm still collecting information as far as that goes.


Here we also have foreign interests to contend with. I know the beach area as well as the casinos in the area are under foreign illicit control (Or rather it's public opinion. Collecting evidence of said illicit activity is a whole other matter, and frankly not priority for me right now). Of this control, the most disturbing is a trend of less than reputable cops in the area. Granted they are few and far between (for every dirty cop, there's 3-4 good ones), but they are enough to warrant caution in my operations. To that end the name I use here and the name I use in my city are different.


My background consists of 4 years of martial arts (Aikido, Krav Maga), 3 years of parkour (SUPER fun by the way), experience in security, several years of firearm experience (I do carry on my route, but I don't advise you do unless you're damn sure you know what you're doing. I've seen several people crack under pressure, add a firearm to the mix and that's a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, I haven't had to even pull my firearm, and frankly I hope I never do).


Sadly, I can't seem to find any others in my city. But please, tell us about yourself. What are your goals? Your experience?
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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Fri May 11, 2012 4:40 am

I guess I’ll just type up my “origin story” as it would seem like a good thing for my mentor to know one he/she decides they wanna mentor me. It’s kinda a long story so if you don’t like reading you’d probably be better off not reading it.



I grew up in an abusive home. My father was a violent drunk, my mother was severely neurotic, and my sister was a junkie.



I was often scared of my father, and this often came out as anger and I developed quite a temper when I was younger. One day I said I wished everyone in the school would die, (I was twelve years old and in sixth grade at the time). The Ft. Greely Middle School however took it pretty seriously, most likely to do the fact the school was on a Missile Defense Base.



I could either go to jail or a psychiatric facility, and so my parents decided to choose the last one. I was sent to Fahrenkamp Center in Fairbanks, Alaska for a couple months but one day went into a blind rage and destroyed whatever I could get my hands on, so I was then transferred to a facility in Provo, Utah called Provo Canyon School, (or “the School” as I call it.



While I was there I was beaten, raped, drugged and tortured on a regular basis. I as well as many other kids, I later realized.



They would throw us into a Concrete Cell for several hours on end and would deny us bathroom privileges. The staff would beat the kids whenever they had to “restrain” one and just said that they feared for their life which is the same as saying they have the right to do whatever the hell they want.



One day I was raped in the Locker Rooms. I remember blood flowing down the drain, and being a room somewhere on the second floor, but every time I try and recall how I got to the room or where the entrance was it gets blocked somehow. I later discovered the reason I have gaps in my memory from that place was due to all the drugs they forced us.



I was taking sixteen pills a day, and they had to be crushed with a spoon so the guards knew we weren’t cheeking them; if we didn’t then they’d “booty juice” us (slang for getting a hypo full of tranquilizer stuck in your ass).



After I was raped, I found a way to escape the School: I would live in my head. I just disappeared into my own little world where nothing mattered.



About a year passed and not much had changed.



One afternoon I decided I wanted to physically leave and never come back. It’s like my personality kept changing. I told one of my friends to punch me in the face as hard as he could before breakfast and then to high tail it away from me asap because I knew it would trigger a blackout where I would then have a full on adrenaline rush and be able to break out by force.

It worked, I bolted down the hallway at max speed and jump kicked open the magnetic blast door with a pressure lock with a 3000’lbs holding pressure, dashed out across the courtyard and climbed over the stone wall surrounding the campus, and I was free for a while. I was later caught by someone who used to work there and he knew the place and knew that I was from their because I was wearing sweats with 204 written on them (when you first arrive they give you a number and sweats and then write your number on all your clothes (the one’s your allowed) which later became the inspiration for my RLSH costume.



I was taken back and locked in the “Quiet Room” (the aforementioned concrete cell) for 12 hours.



Another year passed and at this point I was 15 years old. It had been years since I had seen my parents. Home began to feel like I fantasy found only in story books. Life seemed to just go by and whenever something fucked up happened it would seem more and more mundane even if most people would find them horrifying. (I once saw a kid rip out the braces of another kids face and blood gushed all over the place and people were freaking out and screaming bloody murder. It didn’t seem too bad after a while.



One day I was told I was going back to Alaska because my parents missed me and couldn’t take me being thousands of miles away any longer. At first I felt hesitant, like perhaps this was some kind of sick joke. I was lead to the lobby, and out front awaited my “Escort” (the guy that would be watching me 24/7 all the way to the Salt Lake City Airport, on the plane, to the Anchorage Airport, to his parents house to wait for the next flight, back to the airport, back on a plane to Fairbanks Airport.



In the car I was freaking out. It had been years since I had been in a car, and even though we were only going 20 mph, it felt like we were going 60. He turned on the radio because he was used to kids reacting this way and knew that music helps. Though when I heard the music it sounded different than the music I knew, and it dawned on me that I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard music and it must have changed since I was a kid.



In the airports I was freaked out because of all the people and crowds. Everyone was just going about their lives and just looked so normal so I was confused as to why I was so freaked.



When we finally got to Fairbanks, Alaska, my parents met me and at first I didn’t recognize them. Like, I saw them, and knew who they were, but they didn’t feel like my parents, and the whole concept of parenthood was kind of a mystery to me because I hadn’t had parents since I was 12 and when I was twelve I barely understood simple multiplication, lol.



Everything in our house was so much smaller than I remembered. My parents looked older. My friends had grown up and their voices had changed. I decided to go back to school. I was in highschool now, and all the students kept asking me where I had been and half of them I didn’t even know. There were so many rumors to my disappearance that had been spread over the last three years and some of my friends even thought I had died, and others thought I had ran away and still others thought I went to a private school in England, lmao.

It started becoming too overwhelming so I dropped out of school and started getting my GED instead. In the mean time I also sought out a therapist at Fairbanks Counseling and Adoption named Sean O’Neil



Coincidently, he had another patient who had been to the School, and had a similar experience.



As I was working out my issues I started becoming so lost as to who or what I was anymore, and so I delved into parapsychology, and eastern philosopher in search of possible solutions.



I thought I was a lot of different things. I met a lot of amazing people and experienced a lot of amazing things, but in the end I came to accept that the little boy I was before had died at the School and was replaced with a simple number: 204. I realized that even though 204 was dark, and scary at times, that it didn’t matter because what matters is what I do now. Not what I have done or will do, but to live in the moment.



Get a clear understanding of who I am, what I believe in, and what I want to do. I came to realize that all the horrible things that had happened were my trials. All were leading to this single moment in time, and in the end had made me so much more than I was.



I still train slightly compulsively in martial arts and mind based abilities such as Extrasensory Perception and Mind Over Matter.



I eventually came across the RLSH Project and thought it would be a great way to spread my message. I joined up but still had identity issues for a while because I kept trying to change who I was so I’d fit in with other people, but eventually learned that if I don’t sty true to myself then I will never find peace so now I pretty much just be myself, and have a clear idea of who I am.



My costume is simply a light grey sweat shirt with 204 stenciled on the chest, light grey sweat pants, and black combat boots.



My goal is to help and protect those I can wherever I am and help inspire others to overcome the various obstacles standing in their way no matter how big or small they are. I believe that humans can do nearly anything once they invest some time, effort, and determination, and I hope to show that by leading by example.



In recent events, on the brighter side; my dad is no longer a violent drunk, (he’s just a grumpy ol’ fart most of the time, but hey, I love him), my mother is not nearly as neurotic, except when it comes to worrying about her superhero sun in Fairbanks at night, lol, and my sister is no longer a junkie. Oh, and she’s pregnant with my soon to be Niece. So things are looking up! Smile



I’f you’re interested, I can supply links to sites where other kids have come forth to expose the School and what really goes on in there. It’s located at 4501 North University Avenue, Provo, Utah 84604.





And that concludes my “origin/background story”.









--204
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Shifter



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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Fri May 11, 2012 7:49 am

i would like a mentor too please
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JohnDoe




PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Sun May 13, 2012 11:29 pm

204 wrote:
I guess I’ll just type up my “origin story” as it would seem like a good thing for my mentor to know one he/she decides they wanna mentor me. It’s kinda a long story so if you don’t like reading you’d probably be better off not reading it.



I grew up in an abusive home. My father was a violent drunk, my mother was severely neurotic, and my sister was a junkie.



I was often scared of my father, and this often came out as anger and I developed quite a temper when I was younger. One day I said I wished everyone in the school would die, (I was twelve years old and in sixth grade at the time). The Ft. Greely Middle School however took it pretty seriously, most likely to do the fact the school was on a Missile Defense Base.



I could either go to jail or a psychiatric facility, and so my parents decided to choose the last one. I was sent to Fahrenkamp Center in Fairbanks, Alaska for a couple months but one day went into a blind rage and destroyed whatever I could get my hands on, so I was then transferred to a facility in Provo, Utah called Provo Canyon School, (or “the School” as I call it.



While I was there I was beaten, raped, drugged and tortured on a regular basis. I as well as many other kids, I later realized.



They would throw us into a Concrete Cell for several hours on end and would deny us bathroom privileges. The staff would beat the kids whenever they had to “restrain” one and just said that they feared for their life which is the same as saying they have the right to do whatever the hell they want.



One day I was raped in the Locker Rooms. I remember blood flowing down the drain, and being a room somewhere on the second floor, but every time I try and recall how I got to the room or where the entrance was it gets blocked somehow. I later discovered the reason I have gaps in my memory from that place was due to all the drugs they forced us.



I was taking sixteen pills a day, and they had to be crushed with a spoon so the guards knew we weren’t cheeking them; if we didn’t then they’d “booty juice” us (slang for getting a hypo full of tranquilizer stuck in your ass).



After I was raped, I found a way to escape the School: I would live in my head. I just disappeared into my own little world where nothing mattered.



About a year passed and not much had changed.



One afternoon I decided I wanted to physically leave and never come back. It’s like my personality kept changing. I told one of my friends to punch me in the face as hard as he could before breakfast and then to high tail it away from me asap because I knew it would trigger a blackout where I would then have a full on adrenaline rush and be able to break out by force.

It worked, I bolted down the hallway at max speed and jump kicked open the magnetic blast door with a pressure lock with a 3000’lbs holding pressure, dashed out across the courtyard and climbed over the stone wall surrounding the campus, and I was free for a while. I was later caught by someone who used to work there and he knew the place and knew that I was from their because I was wearing sweats with 204 written on them (when you first arrive they give you a number and sweats and then write your number on all your clothes (the one’s your allowed) which later became the inspiration for my RLSH costume.



I was taken back and locked in the “Quiet Room” (the aforementioned concrete cell) for 12 hours.



Another year passed and at this point I was 15 years old. It had been years since I had seen my parents. Home began to feel like I fantasy found only in story books. Life seemed to just go by and whenever something fucked up happened it would seem more and more mundane even if most people would find them horrifying. (I once saw a kid rip out the braces of another kids face and blood gushed all over the place and people were freaking out and screaming bloody murder. It didn’t seem too bad after a while.



One day I was told I was going back to Alaska because my parents missed me and couldn’t take me being thousands of miles away any longer. At first I felt hesitant, like perhaps this was some kind of sick joke. I was lead to the lobby, and out front awaited my “Escort” (the guy that would be watching me 24/7 all the way to the Salt Lake City Airport, on the plane, to the Anchorage Airport, to his parents house to wait for the next flight, back to the airport, back on a plane to Fairbanks Airport.



In the car I was freaking out. It had been years since I had been in a car, and even though we were only going 20 mph, it felt like we were going 60. He turned on the radio because he was used to kids reacting this way and knew that music helps. Though when I heard the music it sounded different than the music I knew, and it dawned on me that I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard music and it must have changed since I was a kid.



In the airports I was freaked out because of all the people and crowds. Everyone was just going about their lives and just looked so normal so I was confused as to why I was so freaked.



When we finally got to Fairbanks, Alaska, my parents met me and at first I didn’t recognize them. Like, I saw them, and knew who they were, but they didn’t feel like my parents, and the whole concept of parenthood was kind of a mystery to me because I hadn’t had parents since I was 12 and when I was twelve I barely understood simple multiplication, lol.



Everything in our house was so much smaller than I remembered. My parents looked older. My friends had grown up and their voices had changed. I decided to go back to school. I was in highschool now, and all the students kept asking me where I had been and half of them I didn’t even know. There were so many rumors to my disappearance that had been spread over the last three years and some of my friends even thought I had died, and others thought I had ran away and still others thought I went to a private school in England, lmao.

It started becoming too overwhelming so I dropped out of school and started getting my GED instead. In the mean time I also sought out a therapist at Fairbanks Counseling and Adoption named Sean O’Neil



Coincidently, he had another patient who had been to the School, and had a similar experience.



As I was working out my issues I started becoming so lost as to who or what I was anymore, and so I delved into parapsychology, and eastern philosopher in search of possible solutions.



I thought I was a lot of different things. I met a lot of amazing people and experienced a lot of amazing things, but in the end I came to accept that the little boy I was before had died at the School and was replaced with a simple number: 204. I realized that even though 204 was dark, and scary at times, that it didn’t matter because what matters is what I do now. Not what I have done or will do, but to live in the moment.



Get a clear understanding of who I am, what I believe in, and what I want to do. I came to realize that all the horrible things that had happened were my trials. All were leading to this single moment in time, and in the end had made me so much more than I was.



I still train slightly compulsively in martial arts and mind based abilities such as Extrasensory Perception and Mind Over Matter.



I eventually came across the RLSH Project and thought it would be a great way to spread my message. I joined up but still had identity issues for a while because I kept trying to change who I was so I’d fit in with other people, but eventually learned that if I don’t sty true to myself then I will never find peace so now I pretty much just be myself, and have a clear idea of who I am.



My costume is simply a light grey sweat shirt with 204 stenciled on the chest, light grey sweat pants, and black combat boots.



My goal is to help and protect those I can wherever I am and help inspire others to overcome the various obstacles standing in their way no matter how big or small they are. I believe that humans can do nearly anything once they invest some time, effort, and determination, and I hope to show that by leading by example.



In recent events, on the brighter side; my dad is no longer a violent drunk, (he’s just a grumpy ol’ fart most of the time, but hey, I love him), my mother is not nearly as neurotic, except when it comes to worrying about her superhero sun in Fairbanks at night, lol, and my sister is no longer a junkie. Oh, and she’s pregnant with my soon to be Niece. So things are looking up! Smile



I’f you’re interested, I can supply links to sites where other kids have come forth to expose the School and what really goes on in there. It’s located at 4501 North University Avenue, Provo, Utah 84604.





And that concludes my “origin/background story”.









--204

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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Sun May 13, 2012 11:59 pm

Lol, I know. I just thought it be best if my mentor knows my history so that he/she is better equiped to help mentor me. Sorry if it was a bit long, lol. Smile



--204
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Vulpo

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PostSubject: Re: Seeking a Mentor   Mon May 14, 2012 12:08 am

Heck, I'd love to have somebody coach me over the internet too. Granted you won't find any hero that isn't biased, your best bet is to try to find a superhero that has similar biases to yourself. Heh.
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