Even though life can be a fantastic ride, sometimes it can also knock the wind out of your sails. When tough times trigger your insecurities, you can discover an inner strength that will get you through practically anything.
Try these ideas to get started:
Reflect on the tough times you've had before. Ask yourself:
• How did I get through that situation?
• What did I do?
• Which of my strengths did I use?
• What did you tell yourself? With the benefit of hindsight was that right?
• Should I to be in the same situation again, what would I do differently?
• If I were advising somebody else on how to manage this situation, what would I say?
• How will I apply what I have learned to my present situation?
Learn to talk to yourself in a resourceful way. This will help you build up your inner strength.
• How would you speak to your best friend about this situation?
• Learn how to craft effective affirmations – I have posted about this on my own little corner of Reddit: it’s easy to find.
• Acknowledge confusion as part of the learning process where you’re working something out.
• When were times not rough? – what made them not rough?
Deliberate on your thinking. This will help gain perspective.
• Consider the evidence for and against the thoughts you’re having.
• What alternative explanations are there for the outcomes?
• What are the implications of the outcome? – am I giving myself a balanced appraisal or only considering the worst-case scenario?
• How useful, or otherwise, are my conclusions?
• What limiting beliefs are at play here?
Consider who you regard as role models and mentors. You selected those people because you respect and admire them.
• What would they do?
• How would they manage this situation?
• What capabilities and resources do they have that I also have?
• How can I develop the resources they have which I don’t yet?
Reflect on what you've done or been through that you're most proud of.
• What are your most significant achievements?
• Did you have moments / periods of doubt while achieving those? – how did you over-come them?
• What personal skills, resources and capabilities did you most commonly use to achieve these things? – how can you apply those to the current situation?
Complete the details of this affirmation: Now that I have realised / learned [what have you learned from reflecting on the above], I choose to [what have you chosen to do differently / do more of / start doing] because [the benefits you will gain by making these positive improvements in your life].

I played 50 or so games I never played before and here are the ones that grabbed me, I have not finish all of them but I have played these for a good amount of time and still am playing

1. Abzu

It's a journey like exploration game developed by the same development team, it's a calming peaceful experience you can play at your own pace and just relax too

1. Ancient Enemy

It's a story based card game where you solve card stacking puzzles like solitaire to build your attack, defence and spells and fight enemies in one on one duels

1. Breathedge

It's a humor filled survival game where you are standard in space, just you and your chicken collecting resources and surving while following the story

1. Creatures in the well

It's a adventure game with the primary gameplay inspired by breakout, you go in roguelike levels and use your weapons to hit and deflect energy balls

1. DARQ

It's a Dark 2D puzzle platform in the same vain as Limbo and Little Nightmare with interesting puzzles and solid atmosphere

1. Faeria

It's a one v one card game where you make a deck from a variety of different cards and fight the enemies by building land for your cards to spawn in while managing card economy and your energy each turn

1. Horizon Chase Turbo

It's an Arcade racer very much like the old Sega arcade racers with stylised 3D visuals and a race by race format, the controls are really well done

1. Pillers of Eternity

It's a Party based RPG where you manage a party of many heros in Real Time strategy battles, with deep character creation and a wide selection of dialogue choices

1. Redout

It's a F-Zero like racer with great visuals and a real sense of speed

1. Rogue Legacy

It needs no introduction, tho I skipped stright to Rogue Legacy 2 the original still holds up great being one of the pillers of indie rogue like scene

1. Slain: Back from hell

It's a pixel art, 2D action platformer with a lot of gore, solid controls and Combat

1. Speed Brawl

It's a 2D hand drawn Brawler where the emphasis is on getting through a stage as fast as possible

1. Tales of Neon Sea

It's a 2D pixel art, narritive focused mystry game set in a cyberpunk world where you analyse clues to unravel the truth

1. The first tree

Is a exploration type adventure game again comparable to something like journey where you play as a fox

1. Torchlight

It's a Story based RPG with persistent enemy death and a combat like Diablo with a lot of different weapon and spell choices

1. Void Bastards

It's a First Person Shooter with a Rogue like formula where you load onto a ship with objectives in mind and a limit amount of time, you have to achieve the objectives and extract before your time or health runs out
These are the basic summaries just to get people familiar with the games, I don't want to go in depth about 16 games in one post, hopefully someone finds something interesting here

The House on Jackson Street

By John Westrick
I used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”

Hey all,
I’m looking for a fic but I only remember one thing about it. Neville was saving all of the Drooble’s best blowing gum wrappers that his parents gave him.I remember his mom going up to him in a haze and giving him the wrapper in a scene where Harry was present. Harry some how figured out that it was a message that they were being kept (drugged? cursed?) and that they weren’t actually insane. I can’t remember if there was something written on it, or letters marked, or just folded a certain way. Any chance anyone knows what the fic actually was? I know it’s been years since I read it. At the time—and still now lol—I was very into independent! and super! Harry, though no clue if that’s what this fic was.
Thanks in advance!

Hi everyone, so as you could imagine I’m a bit in shock and I don’t know how to proceed. I don’t know how to change my mindset to what I know deep down is the truth. For background I just turned 20 but I have 2 close friends from high school who just graduated this year, let’s call them G and B.
So G had his grad party last night which I attended and B was also there. Everyone there was just drinking and having a good time. As the night progressed B became more intoxicated. Me and him are close but I’ve always been closer with G so we’re not all that affectionate together which is why it was weird when he started hugging on me while I was sitting down. He has me sit with him on the bed where he’s being super touchy and close. I’m a bit shocked by this so when he started kissing me I didn’t immediately shove him off. I was drunk and I was like whatever it’s just harmless kissing. Which it was, until it wasn’t.
He began to touch me pulling up my shirt and I stayed silent but when he moved to unbutton my jeans I said “B we can’t”. He kept insisting it was fine and that no one was going to come in but I just kept saying that I didn’t want to do that since he’s a close friend to me. B just kept insisting and at one point while we kept going back and forth he just unbuttoned my pants anyways and took them off along with my underwear. At this point the reality of what was happening kicked in and I sobered up. He was on top of me and I kept saying we can’t as he fingered me. Then at some point without me knowing he had taken his pants down and I felt him line up to me. I kept saying we can’t and that he didn’t have a condom on but he went and did it anyways. I was having sex with him and I was in shock how it got to this point.
B kept going for a minute or so until my best friend started knocking on the door. B told me to stay there and pulled his shorts up and went outside to my best friend and G. I just laid there half naked under the covers in shock. My best friend came in and she saw my face and knew something was wrong. I sat there with my hands covering my face since I was mortified. I zoned what she said but it was basically that he feels bad and that I’m safe and I should just go to sleep. I put underwear on and I was left there in the dark.
A few minutes pass and B comes back in apologizing like crazy. It’s funny because I actually believed he meant it in the moment. Saying how he literally assaulted me and that he feels bad. I believed him until touching began again. I said no we can’t repeatedly I really did. But when he put a condom on and moved my underwear out of the way and pushed into me I think I gave up. I just stared at the wall opposite of me hoping it’d end soon.
My best friends trying to act like it was all fine which I want to be mad but at the same time I understand. I want it all to be fine too. These are my closest friends, he is one of my closest friends and I don’t want everything to blow up. I let him kiss me I welcomed it so maybe in some illogical way that was me consenting. I wasn’t held down but I didn’t say yes either. I just can’t convince myself it could be rape. I’m just so lost.

Almost 2 months ago I told my former therapist on the phone about my past inappropriate relationship I had with my teacher at 15, she was trying to report it but I gave 0 details of her, the school I was in , and the city I was living in at that time.
It’s been almost 2 months now since I opened to my therapist about my past inappropriate relationship with my former teacher I had with when I was 15 but I gave no details of her, the school I went, and the city I was living in at the time. I’m 24 now.
Oh, so I’m 24 years old and I live in California and it’s been almost 2 months now since I’ve told my former therapist about my past, and after I told her the story of how everything went down and how everything ended, she was very helpful and got me to understand what it meant and everything else but she did say she was a mandated reporter, and said she would have to report any current sexual abuse going on with a child or an elderly person, or that if I was feeling suicidal and threatening to harm myself or harm others she said she would have to report, but in the middle of our conversation even before our first session on the phone, she didn’t say anything about reporting my past abuse, I clarified that I was 24 and then the next day she texted me trying to ask me for answers and then that’s when she said she was gonna have to make the report within 24 hours, but I refuse to give information, and my therapist kept pressuring me to give her details and everything else but of course I kept refusing because I personally do not want to report it because my teacher no longer works there. I haven’t seen her in almost 10 years now she only worked there for a little while and then she resigned and she told me she was no longer going to be working as a teacher and she moved out of state, but didn’t say where so I don’t even know her whereabouts.
When my therapist texted me, I felt like when she was pressuring me, she was also trying to guilt trip me even though I knew where she was coming from but honestly I forgave my past and I feel no need nor want to report now if she was still working at the school then yes, I would have to report even if I didn’t want to, but at that point, I would have to look out for others. I understand the therapist wanted to help the best she can but at the same time she needed to realize that not everything is in her control but yes, if I was still a minor then that would be a different story. After refusing to get information, that’s when she stop texting me and then three days later she texts me again asking me the same questions and of course I refuse them and everything else and then at that point and she kept going I just about had enough and that’s when I decided to end my sessions with her. After telling her that, I appreciate everything she’s done for me, but I would like to cancel my sessions with her. She far right out agreed and told me to consider them canceled and then she told me to be well and then a few minutes later, she asked me one last question what school did you go to? I didn’t even bother to answer because I’ve already went over this with her so many times so I blocked her number and that was it. It’s been almost 2 months now and I haven’t heard anything out of this and she has not tried to contact in any other way so I have not heard anything out of her ever since I’m still worried if she made the report or not because like I said, I don’t want to report It. I’ve been a little paranoid although it’s been almost 2 months, I’ve been smoking cigarettes, and vaping a lot because of it.
So far no has contacted me to ask me questions about it, or has came to my door to ask me any questions. I talked to my aunt about it recently and she’s a former therapist, she was a therapist for 19 years before she became a caregiver, she said she dealt with someone similar a girl who had an inappropriate relationship with her teacher back in high, my aunt said she was an adult by time she worked with her, my aunt said she couldn’t report it because she only gave his last name and not any other details such as his full identity, where she went to school, and everything else. I’m currently seeing a new therapist whom I like way better than my former one, although I appreciate everything my former therapist was trying to do for me, I felt like she was going outside her work by trying to play detective, and at that point I felt like she was being a vigilante just for how she was acting like a detective instead of helping me. But so far I still have not heard anything of the report, I’ve been looking online to see if the report was made and so far nothing, no one has called me about or came to my door and it’s been almost 2 months now. Should I be worried I really don’t want to dig up my past I just want to move forward with my life. Based off of my research I did, I found that in most cases therapist are not required to report past abuse if their client is now an adult and that the victim will have to report it themselves. I feel no need to report I wish my first therapist would’ve understood that I came in for professional help not to dig up old memories. Should I worry now that is been almost two months? I am working with a new therapist and it took me a week to finally feel comfortable with opening up about my past and telling her what I pretty much told my former therapist but I made it clear to my other therapist that I’m going to leave her name out and I’m not going to give any further details because I just want to put this behind me and move forward, and my therapist asked me “ Are you sure you don’t want me to report it”? And I said “yes I’m sure” and I clarified that she’s no longer working at the school and that she’s no longer working as a teacher so my therapist said “ OK then there really nothing there to report and if you don’t want to report it, I understand. I respect your wishes either way because I’m here to help you get through this. “

The House on Jackson Street

By John Westrick
I used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”

Hi,
I will be travelling to South Africa in December. I would first start with Namibia and then heading off to Joburg for 2 days and another 2 days in Krueger National park, then would be heading off to Cape Town.
I'm doing my diligence at researching all the Do's and DONTs and think have pretty good idea where to stay, what to do. I will be travelling solo this time and I look more like Portuguese/Spaniard/Mediterranean. I would outline later in the post why I am bringing my appearance.
My questions are for people who travelled to JoburgCape Town, who lived there and know South Africa not just from internet search and from horror stories that we read. My questions from a 30+ solo male traveller perspective:

• How safe is it for me to brig a tripod in Joburg or Cape Town? Would it get stolen right away?
• Is it common to ask South Africans to take your picture or they would look at me like a fool? Is it guaranteed that my phone would be gone after I hand it to stranger? I understand to use a common sense and give your phone to other tourists take your picture or someone that could look like a reliable individual
• Nightlife as a solo person in Melville - worth it or no? i'm type of person that likely won't enjoy just sitting by myself sipping alcohol drink while watching others having fun - therefore, wonder is it worth it or no? I heard that Joburg after sun goes down is a BIG NO and Melville is not the safest place to be especially after dark, and curiosu to know those that have experiences Joburg nightlife by themselves - what's your take?
• As an individual not looking as your stereotypical Dutch (tall, Blond haiblue yees) but still being South European type of white - could it be similarly unsafe for me as for any other European tourist? I like walking and exploring the city (and I'm aware of Hilbrown and Yeoville type of neighbourhoods) , but If I were to walk in CBD without screaming "HEY I'm TOURIST WITH BACKPACK LOOKING FREAKING LOST AND FLASHING MY PHONE" do you see otherwise walking in CBD, Roseband, Sandton, Constitutional Hill, Gandhi Square areas being unsafe? I like taking pictures a lot as well - so would be taking a lot my phone to quickly snap a pick
• I like taking a public transport as I love merging with locals, any issues if I take metro or bus in Joburg? I would likely use uber for places that are hard to reach, but would love to use metro system as part of my transpaortation- what would your advice be?
• I will be joining the tour after at the Krueger Park for 2 days - wonder if anyone has any recommendation for the best places to book i..e booking in advance oniine, through a hotel or somewhere in the city?
• For Cape Town I plan to do a lot of hiking, Table Mountain, Lion's Head, Noordhiek peak etc. - safe to do these hikes alone pr better join groups? I'm thinking to join group as it would be more fun, but wonder if I want to do by myself is it safe or no?
• Same question for asking folks to take your pics, how are Cape Townians attitude towards that?
• How common it is to lay on the beach in Cape Town and which beaches should be avoided?

Thank you so much for reading over this post and taking time in answering those (likely) trivial questions in advance. I can;t wait to explore your beautiful country for that little time that i would be spending in SA>

A special thank you to the amazing u/SpacePaladin15 for this fun world.
A thank you u/ImaginationSea3679 y u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for helping me with plot stuff.
Sunday Time! Two chapters in one today!
[Prologue][Previous][Next]
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Memory Transcription Subject: Extermination Officer Tova
Date [standardized human time]: August 24rd, 2136, Late first claw
“Dad!?”
My shout was barely loud enough to go over the noise of blaring klaxons. I skipped alongside my father, his paws clasped around mine as he tried to pull me down the hall.
“Not much farther, Tova. Your mother’s waiting for us at the brid-” A panicking venlil stormed right through the hallway, sprinting right between my father and I, sending all three of us sprawling out onto the ground! The rude man didn’t even stop to help us back up, running a stampede right back through the swarming venlil!
“RUN! RUN! THEY’RE COMING! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! I DON’T WANNA DIE!!”
Of course, he wasn’t the only one shouting; a mother crying for her pups, venlil screaming in panic, and the cries of pain: Many venlil having been trampled in the mad dash in random directions! The general fear was merely feeding into a grander self-fueling cycle of panic!
“My arm hurts,” I whine, watching my father spring up from his fallen position. He is barely able to move before the entire ship’s hull lurches to one side, sending most venlil careening into one of the walls, but thankfully for me, the impact wasn’t hard enough to break any of my bones. My father wasn’t so lucky, clutching one of his legs with a tight grasp, and letting out a pained whimper. “Splesh…” He groaned out, grabbing tight for a brief second before correcting himself. “Gah, sorry, shouldn’t have said that in front of you.” He chuckles aloud despite the pain and does well to maintain a cool and collected gaze.
I didn’t really care if my father had said a naughty word. I was more worried about the crooked state of his leg. It was bent at an old angle, and one part that was normally straight, his upper thigh, was actually bent as well.
It looks awful!
I crawled my way over to him as quickly as I can, wrapping my two paws around his wrists. “C’mon, we need to hurry! Please get up!” I tried to tug my father up onto his paws, but due to my smaller size, I wasn’t able to be of much assistance. “Come on, Dad!”
I try again to lift my father up but to no avail. The middle-aged venlil merely hobbles one step before collapsing back onto the ground. The other venlil all begin to stand up and swarm past us. I am thankful that they don’t manage to accidentally trample us beneath their paws.
“Come on, Father! It isn’t that much farther, just about fifteen more tails or so, and we’ll be safe with Mom!” My voice breaks as it raises in pitch, crying out in anguish and desperation! I give one last firm tug to my dad’s wrists, but instead of pulling the man upwards. He gives me a small shove, sending me falling down onto my hindquarters.
The sound of more screaming venlil fills the corridor as the taint makes itself known. A brief exchange of plasma fire is heard beyond the wall, but other than that, I could only discern the fact that the arxur have boarded.
“Go! Your mother can take care of you. She’s a good woman. Just go!”
I turn tail and make a mad dash with the rest of the venlil toward the bridge’s doors, stopping to look over my shoulder upon reaching the giant mechanical doorway, peering through the now-closed window.
Arxur by this point have begun to make themselves known, coming around the corner with speed! They don’t waste any time, jumping upon downed and injured venlil, and chomping down upon limbs and arms.
Their screams fill the hallway and leak into the bridge…
My father, despite his injury, reaches for a knife he likes to carry on himself, and readies the blade, waiting for the first Arxur to approach. He doesn’t have to wait long, for one is already barreling down onto him. Its massive jaws opening wide!
“Tova!? Tova! Tova!”
And within a moment, I am jolted from my nightmarish slumber by Quilix’s paws shaking my chest. He had a tight grip on my short wool, grabbing on firmly. I could feel his grip ease up the second he noticed an eye looking back up at him. “Y-you were screaming, so I… I figured I’d… I’d check up on you.”
The small and white venlil looked like he was on the brink of crying: Tears were coating the undersides of his eyes, which appeared to be puffy and orange. I was so enthralled with my nightmare - I haven’t had nightmares in years: Not one since I have been around Quilix, that I hadn’t remembered the past two paws very well, but when I did, I placed a paw against Quilix and gave the male a weak shove, pushing him off of me with ease. “Don’t touch me, I still have not forgotten what you have done.” I take a moment to adjust my messy wool. Quilix does the same, taking a moment to adjust the scraggly mess it had become within a mere two paws.
He still appeared to be taking care of himself, at least. I couldn’t say the same for myself. Normally, I’d take a shower after grueling work claws because I often got some grease or oil in my fur, but the past two paws had left me feeling ragged.
He nods to my words. “You should take a shower, my beautiful-” - “Don’t tell me what to do.”
The sharp, bluntness within my tone cuts down whatever Quilix was going to say. He lowered his head and tail before sheepishly walking out of the room. A part of me wanted to feel bad about seeing my mate like that, but I struggled to find that empathetic bone within me. It just wasn’t easy to take his words with any meaning after having that whole fiasco dropped on my head!
The insincere guile of hiding everything from me! Then he feels bad when I learn about it!?
It actually takes some effort on my part to not slam the door when I walk into the bathroom. I waste no time turning on the water to its hottest setting and slide back over the mirror. I stare at my reflection, loathing the mess that I appear to be; split ends, unregulated wool, drooping eyes, grease stains, and oil stains that have gone uncleaned. I felt like an idiot for not taking that one shower when Arwen was still sleeping.
Why does Arwen want Quilix and I to get back together so quickly? Is this a human thing?
I briefly pause, remembering something.
I mean, it isn’t like I could break up with Quilix. My mother would kill me, and I am fairly positive Quilix’s parents would do the same.
I should have just gone with Pasala to have my mind fixed. I spehing hate this. I thought my nightmares were over with… I’m not deserving of this second chance with Arwen.
I briefly rub my tearing eyes with my paws, wiping away the dampness that had built up underneath my two eyes. I take a moment to adjust myself, scratching a few itches and doing a bit more rubbing, and then finally hop into the hot water.
My muscles and mind relax under the pouring stream for a few minutes, letting it clear my mind and thoughts away like that of a morning’s rain. Then I go through the routine of shampooing, conditioning, and cleaning out all the nooks and crannies between my paws, ears, tail, and so forth.
Eventually, I turn off the shower and finish up with the rest of my cycle; drying, brushing my teeth and brushing my wool until it’s smoothed down. Finally, I walk out and head down to our living room. I may have not eaten over the past few claws, and I can feel myself grow famished.
When I enter the living room, I take note of the fact that Quilix is reading on his tablet. Something I seldom see the small male do. Normally, he does all of his reading and writing for his books on his main computer, which he has stored away in his office, so this was quite new to me.
His expression quickly shifts the second he sees me: ears perk up highly and his tail wags against the couch, but the expression is fleeting, falling not even a moment later, for he quickly notices my sour gaze landing right back on him.
Regardless of my disappointment, I still couldn’t keep my curiosity at bay. “What are you reading?”
My belated curiosity was enough for the male to perk right back up with a hopeful ear flick. “Well, Arwen and Trivi sent us instructions on what we should say when we go to acquire our visas to Earth, and what not to say to the humans. We’d probably get in trouble, but I’d be worried more about Arwen.”
“Just forward it to my tablet and I will read it later. I’m hungry.”
“You don’t want to read it with me?” His hopeful tone tugged at my heartstrings.
“No, I said I am hungry!” And like that, he was crushed right back down.
A part of me actually did want to read it with him. He was still my mate after the fact, but that was a very small part of me. I was still upset, angry, livid, even! I was also very, very hungry.
With another annoyed tail flick, I moved my way to the kitchen and fixed myself a snack, eating it at the dining room table. Quilix continued to look at me, holding out that I would join him on the couch, but once again, I would dip back to my room to retrieve my tablet, opening up the message from Arwen and Trivi.

Hello Quilix and Tova,
There’s been a small change of plans, but I won’t tell you the little details. What I do want to tell you is what you should and shouldn’t mention to the UN visa agent that came to Venlil Prime. Firstly, don’t mention the ranch, for obvious reasons…
If I were you, I’d talk about your passions, and claim that I mentioned one of them. I do recall hearing something about you liking swords, right?

I do like swords… How does Arwen know that?

Well, you could talk about some old medieval museums: St. Fagans is a good one to talk about. I’ve actually been there, but only because my father was a bit of a history buff. Hah! They have some swords on display and a really, really old sword. It’s about 1.45 Tails [870 millimeters] if I remember correctly. I figured you’d like to see it.

Wait, aren’t we supposed to be treated like cattle? Was that the change of plans? Oh… Yeah, forgot about needing to sneak through.

For Quilix, there are plenty of art museums, more so than medieval-based Museums, so I am pretty sure we can find something for him as well. Anyways, I will see you later. I assume the twenty-eighth? That will be roughly four paws from now. I do suggest you get your visas, it might be a day, or not…

I finally close my tablet, having finished the message. I sat there for a couple of minutes to process what I have been told. My mind wandering back and forth in trying to decipher if Arwen changed her mind, was toying with us, or was purely trying to sneak us back to Earth under a more wholesome-sounding guise.
I only knew her for about half a paw, and within that half-paw, it was mostly filled with that massage and poem reading, so really, I didn’t even know her at all, and she still wanted to go through with this!?
Either she really wants clothes made from our wool or actually is extremely serious about forgiveness. I think… I think I am leaning toward the latter. Could also be humiliation… Wait, didn’t she agree to Quilix’s original plan…
OH BY THE SPElSHING STARS!
I calmed down rather quickly at the small realization. Arwen was probably angry and just suggested that on a moment’s notice. She probably wasn’t thinking straight and said something somewhat stupid. That’s all.
That’s what I told myself.
I hopped up from my bed, leaving my tablet behind, and walked back into the living room. Quilix was still sitting on the couch, but staring blankly at the wall. “Not going to draw or write?”
Quilix had a way of getting everyone to feel bad for him, and it wasn’t even purposeful to my knowledge. He was just so small and helpless, so when his mood shot down the drain, it was like looking at an unhappy child. His tail was limp and he had a general malaise over his posture: body laying flat across the couch with the tablet screen down on his chest. “Don’t feel like it.”
Even his tone was lower and slower than its normal high and fast pitch.
Ugh… I don’t want to deal with him.
Despite my inner thoughts, I remember what Arwen asked of us. I really didn’t want to put up with my mate, but it was probably the right thing to do.
Or at least I hope it is the right thing to do.
Memory Transcription Subject: Extermination Officer Tova
Date [standardized human time]: August 24rd, 2136, Early second claw
It wasn’t a long drive down to the UN’s little building, but it really was an awkward one. Quilix and I sat in relative silence, unsure of how to start any conversation. It made me wonder how humans dealt with mate infidelity.
Do they force the pair to stay together, or do they just split up?
I knew that splitting up wasn’t really even an option. We had both of our parents’ blessings. My mother would be displeased if we split up, and she’d probably be angry if I did: Our vyalkit was made from not just my and Quilix’s wool, but also our parents, and their parents, and then their parent’s parents! My side was almost touching sixty-three generations, and Quilix was thirty-two. To break apart would be to desecrate multiple generations of honor-bound loyalty! How could Quilix do such a thing!?
It was nearly impossible to keep myself from crying in the car, keeping myself calm with cool and steady breaths, but with every thought that came roaring through. I worried that I would burst like an over-pressured levee.
Am I, not enough?
Does he not trust me?
How would he have acted if I had done the same?
Those thoughts rattled around in my mind due to my inability to distract myself.
Quilix was unusually quieter than normal, and for a moment I caught myself hoping he’d hum a melodic tune, but no sound came from him, causing the car ride to be unnaturally quiet.
No poems read.
No songs sang.
No conversations pulled.
This car ride practically resembled our horribly damaged relationship; empty, degraded, and silent. Though to be fair, Quilix had tried a couple of times to bridge the gap, and I just wasn’t receptive. I thought about speaking several times to alleviate us of this awkwardness, but every time I tried to speak, I remembered what I did to Arwen, or what Quilix had done to me, and with a pain in my chest. I remain quiet. Thankfully, the drive comes to an end.
“Ah, welcome to the UN embassy. You must be Tova and Quilix, right?” A human with remarkably dark skin of brown coloration greeted us at the door. He didn’t have any hair on his head like any of the humans I have seen but sported hair along his jawline. A mask covered the rest of his face.
Quilix and I both nodded.
“My name is Davian Karslon, it is a pleasure to meet you. I will have you know that I got your message. Now, if you would accompany me inside.” He gestured for us to come inside.
Quilix and I followed the big, human down a few hallways before inevitably entering a small office. He beckoned us to sit down, seating himself behind a wooden desk that looked like it was just placed down within the last day.
It probably was.
“I’m a bit shocked that we already have venlil applying for a visa, and you two in particular.” The male clasped his hands in front of his stomach, leaning back in his chair.
I wasn’t expecting an interrogation! I was expecting them to be like “Oh? A venlil wants to go to Earth!? We must be making good impressions!” Speh, what did Arwen want us to say?
“Arwen suggested we can learn more about humans if we come visit her at her home. She mentioned lots of things regarding museums, and as you know, I am a poet, an artist, and a writer. Now, I am no fool, for I know you humans didn’t show us all you had done within the last few millennia. You avoid things like meat eating for our sake, and showed us the book Frankenstein, which while simple, still had a good sense of morals: Don’t judge someone based on their appearance. I wish to learn more, and I can’t do that here. I’ve already read most if not all of the books you have given us that weren’t pups’ books.” Quilix came to my rescue, for I was on the edge of having a nervous breakdown, but him speaking allowed my thoughts to coalesce.
“Marvelous, it seems someone here loves literature to quite the great degree!” Even with the mask on, I could feel the human’s gaze shift onto me. I do my best not to flinch under the hidden, but binocular gaze.
“I uh… Arwen- Well, you see the federation isn’t really fond of things I like, and Arwen told me that there are things on Earth that I can’t find on Venlil Prime, The Cradle, or Nishtal…”
“And those things are?”
I take a deep breath. “Swords.”
“Swords?” Davian repeated. “Elucidate me.”
“I’m pretty sure you see a lack of swords, right? Well, that’s because we stopped making them because they were predatory, so now they pretty much don’t exist. However, I now own my great, great, great…” I waved a paw for emphasis, “Grandfather’s sword. The only other people that know are Quilix, Pasala, and my mother, but that’s because they like me, and a couple fellow exterminators. I… want to look at more swords and donate mine, because, unlike my father. I don’t know how to take care of it. I have instructions to take care of it, and I can read it, but I don’t want to risk damaging something of such importance to me. The most I have done is clean the blade.”
“I see, and how old is this sword? What’s it made out of? How big is it?”
I take a moment to think, counting back over the number of generations the sword has been within my family. “It was pre-federation contact and for about thirty generations, so roughly eight-hundred years?” “EIGHT-HUNDRED YEARS!?”
The man’s booming voice caused Quilix and I to recoil back in shock. Thankfully, nothing happens.
“What the hell is that thing made out of!?”
“I don’t know!”
Thankfully, that answer seems to appease the man. He relaxes right back into his chair as if he had never shouted. “Sorry, that’s such a long time for a blade.”
All I can do is shrug in agreement. “Anyways, it’s about just more than one tail [twenty-four inches] in length, so I have it stored in a chest at home. Used to have it in my office, but I didn’t want anyone seeing it after a while.”
Davian clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek a few times, thinking up his response. “That’s all wonderful to hear. I’m quite surprised.”
Yes!
“But,”
No!
“I heard from one of your fellow Exterminators that you two had a bit of an altercation. Any reason why that was filed?”
Speh! Speh! Speh! I don’t know how to respond to that!
“Well, you see, Arwen arrived early two paws ago, and well, Tova walked in on Arwen and I snuggling on the couch, and mistook that as flirtation. The miscommunication has since been cleared up.”
If it weren’t for Quilix’s ears and tail giving him away like the fibber he was. I would have been caught off guard by such a lie! He never was a good liar. Actually, he was still a poor liar.
“I see,” the human nodded to Quilix’s answer. “Well, it was pleasant to meet you two. I will go check with my agent and see if I can get your stuff sorted. Again, it was pleasant to meet you two.”
Wait, that worked?
Well, with that out of the way. That just left introducing the idea to our parents… Scorch it, I just hope they don’t kill us.
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[Prologue][Previous][Next]
Heavily inspired by the likes of…
Pack Bonding
Foundations of Humanity
Mixed Signals (NSFW)
And I snuck in some lingo from Nature of Humanity
Don't Look A Human In The Eye
I highly suggest you check them out!!

[As you run through the city, you feel the wind on your body as you run. The ticking bomb on your chest, about to explode when you stop running is gonna go off. You look around, trying to find any answer to save yourself. Suddenly, you hear a voice coming from your ear as it speaks. Its the tiny intercom in your ear, that gives you a sense of hope as you run.
"Don't worry little runner, you can do it. Your scared aren't you? Confused, tired, blaming yourself. But don't worry, don't focus on the bomb ticking on your chest." A pause happens as you run. "Your worried aren't you? Don't worry, all you need to do is listen to me. Your breathing, focus....focus on your breath. Breathe~ Breathe gently as you run. Feel the air around your body~ Listen to me, focus and vibrate, vibrate at the natural frequency of air. Your body, your cells will be in a state of excitement.
Now this will allow you to phase through a wall, or any object around you." A pause goes on for a moment. "Don't worry, you can do it. Just breathe, relax because I believe in you. Listen to me, and only me so breathe~ Breathe in and out~ Feel the air around you as you run. Feel that wind on your face, feel the ground your feet lifting you up. It pushes you forward, and the lightning. I need you to feel the lightning...the power it gives you my little runner. Feel the electricity running through your veins...crackling through you, traveling to every nerve in your body like a shock. Your no longer you now~ My little runner, you are apart of something greater...You are apart of something greater~ You are apart of the speed force~]
This is the start of your journey as a speedster, as I help you get through the challenges you face along the way. I write in any style you want, first, second, third. Any way you write I'll try my best to adjust. So, just Dm me and we can start.
[Based on the T.V. show the flash]
Discord would be fine, I'm good with role-playing in Dms as well.

The poster boys of pacifist ethics are Inwards Perfection and Agrarian Idyll. That balaclava dude doesn't scream pacifism, but hear me out, the BEST civic for a Fanatic Pacifist run is Criminal Heritage.
Here are the reasons why:

Criminal Heritage interfaces poorly with Vassals:

Why do you want to have vassals in Stellaris? Because you can tax their resources and science, and use them as a road bump against other empires' agressions.
And why do you want vassals as a Megacorp? Because you don't have to have a Commercial Pact with them to set holdings there. So, just as you eat some of their pie, you also make yours and their pie larger.
Crime Syndicates don't need Commercial Pacts. They can't even form commercial pacts. You just find where the most lucrative planets are, pay the influence and energy credits and Bam! you have a Branch Office on that planet. Just keep the crime high and enjoy the benefits...
Setting a Branch Office in one of your vassals doesn't change the mechanics. He can still close your Branch Office if crime is too low, and worse, if you set a Overlord Garrison there, you will be helping them to lower the crime in the planet and thus shooting yourself in the foot.
And that isn't even the worse reason why Criminal Heritage interfaces poorly with Vassals...

Criminal Heritage effectively disable Subjugation (or any kind) of wars.

So, you are in a good economic position, and want to start your vassal swarm. Everyone is pretty much pathetic compared to you, and all you have to do is declare war and bring them into submission by force...
Except you can't. In order to declare war, first you have to close all branch offices. Those same branch offices that are offsetting your fleet cap because of their Pirate Free Havens (they produce slightly less crime than a Smuggler's Port, but those 8 points of fleet cap are yummy, specially if you are playing tall and have few systems and planets to call yours). All the influence and energy you spent on them are sunken costs now. Have fun.
But suppose you decided to bit the bullet and close your branch offices. You got in, crushed their fleets, took their planets, and they conceded defeat. Now you can just rebuild those offices and be back in business? Hell no. You have to wait until the truce ends to resume operations on those planets.
War sucks for you, even if you win. And nothing short of a total war followed by releasing the conquered systems as a vassal will help you. So, if you want to vassal swarm as a Crime Lord, become the crisis and only do Existential Expulsion wars, followed by releasing the insulated systems as Vassals and keeping "Regulated Expansion" in the contract so they will tithe you influence so you can build those branch offices (in some occasions, only to see them closed because they spammed crime reducing buildings).
Unlike the Ferengi rules says, peace is lucrative, but war isn't. You can still get vassals through defensive war, without all that hassle, if the guys where you set your Branch Offices decide to use Expropriation CB on you, or if another Megacorp decide to use Hostile Takeover on you (you get the choice to select your objective in that war, and choose subjugation). I never seen AI use either of those CBs though.

Everybody hates you:

There is more than one way to fry a fish. It may be unfeasable to win vassals by war, but you still can sweet talk them into vassalage... Except it will be MUCH harder. You gain maluses to opinion by being a Crime Syndicate, and more maluses per each branch office you have on their planets. At some point they will prefer to get devoured by the Pretoryn to be your vassal just because of that.

Crime Syndicate is the Megacorp version of Inwards Perfection

So, in a sense, Criminal Heritage is just like the Megacorp version of Inwards Perfection. Except that they don't tell you it.
You can have vassals, but if you do so, the civic becomes essentially a dead one.
You can be in a federation, but it is a pain to get there because everybody hates you.
You can do offensive warfaring, but that is incredibly costly and painful.

What kind of war benefit Crime Syndicates then?

You can benefit from going to war against Genocidal empires and Crisis empires, because you get a Total War CB, and can parcel their spaces into subservient vassals later.
You can benefit from going to war againt Gestalt Consciousnesses (Machines and Hive Minds), both to claim their space and to make them vassals (since you cannot build holdings there, no reason to not vassalize them).
You can benefit from going to war against other Megacorps, both with Hostile Takeover CB (to take all their Branch Offices) and with Impose Ideology CB (to make them cease to be a Megacorp, vacate Branch Offices for you to take later and open the possibility for you to install your own on their planets).
So, if you are having trouble with Megacorps and Gestalts, you can always drift away from (fanatic) pacifism and crush them, by subjugating the Gestalts and by changing the authority of the Megacorps. Unlike with Inwards Perfection, it will not disable the civic.
Luckly, Gestalts and Megacorps are few and far between in most runs.

What do I get for being pacifist (or fanatic pacifist) as a Crime Syndicate

For starters, the greatest complaints about pacifism are the same for Crime Syndicate. So, by being pacifist you made your peace (pun intended) with it. As we say in Brazil, what is a fart for those who already shat themselves? Since you are not going to war, why not reap the benefits of peace?
Moreover, pacifism yields +5% stability (+10% if you go hardcore on pacifism), which in turn rises the trade value of your colonies. If you are running with Megacorp, you probably will want to take Mechantile at some point and run with trade value.
You can improve it even further by taking the "Peace Festivals" edict (+10% happiness, that can translate in up to +10 stability). If you gone Fanatic Pacifist/Authoritarian, you can get up to 15 stability out of the bat with "Information Quarentine", and improve it even further with "Peace Festivals". Make your pops Charismatic and you will be looking at 90+ stability.
And if you are aiming for a Merchant Rush, take Charismatic as one of your traits. You will have a lot of merchants on all of your colonies, so if they produce extra amenities you can hit the +20% happiness and gain even more stability.

So, what Build do you suggest?

ORIGIN:

• Void Dwellers

TRAITS:

• Unadaptive
• Deviants
• Charismatic
• Incubators
• Communal

ETHICS:

• Fanatic Pacifist
• Authoritarian

AUTHORITY:

• Megacorp

CIVICS:

• Criminal Heritage
• Public Relations Specialists (to be later replaced with Corporate Hedonism)

STARTING LEADER TRAIT:

• Charismatic

​
This build expands on the ideas outlined above. You play Void Dwellers to start with 3 colonies and eventually build more. No pressing need to expand much further from your starting system. Take one sector at most and fill it with about 40 Habitats and you will be leaps and bounds ahead of anyone else.
By taking Fanatic Pacifist, you already have +10% stability in all colonies. You can improve it further by enacting both "Peace Festivals" and "Information Quarantine", and even more when you replace Public Relations Specialists with Corporate Hedonism later on.
Start by taking Merchantile Traditions, going for Commercial Enterprise before taking Adaptive Economic Policies (the basic merchant rush run), and then change the Trade Policy from Wealth Generation to Consumer Benefit and your Economic Policy to Militarized Economy.
Then take Subterfuge as your next tradition and enact "Uncovering Secrets" (thus you get 20 base intel, and get to know the capital of the empire after the first contact).
You should also take Adaptability and Prosperity (Each one grants one building slot on your habitats, and the latter one allows you to find a resource to make your habitat more useful).
Change your generator habitat into a trade habitat, build up your fleet to 20, and then build a Forge Habitat and change your Economic Policy to Militarized Economy.
Keep an AP slot to Void Borne, for as soon as you finish researching upgraded habitats (you will need it to upgrade your mining habitat), and take Master of War as your second AP.
Hire scientists to search for other empires, and as soon as you finish the first contact, set a Branch Office in their capitol. Build a merc liaison office there as soon as you set shop.
Hire an admiral that can get your fleet cap to 50 and set a Mercenary Enclave. It's easier to expand and keep a mercenary fleet early in the game.
Being dependent on mercenaries comes with it's downsizes, but the thing is that if you keep just a small fleet to patrol your systems and let the mercenaries be hired, they will be a source of revenue, to be used to upgrade the enclaves, and the other empires will believe that they can bully you (specially if they just hired the enclave's fleet), only to be proved very wrong when you pay the credits and influence to make the mercs desert their customers and come cracking down on them.
That is how you will gain a few vassals, btw.
Just keep a reserve of influence in hand for such events, and when the Khan come kicking the door, just surrender to him. No one will war on you while the khan is troubling the Galaxy, and if they do, the Khan always leave a fleet or two in your capital in follow mode with your own fleet. Just let him wreak the fool.
You will have to create a fleet to fight the endgame crisis and the war in heaven though. But if you focus on tech rushing with your considerable consumer goods income and the fact that you can build research habitats, you will be in a good place when that happens.

1. Where have you just come from? What are the teachings of your lineage, the content of its practice, and a record that attests to it? What is fundamental to understand this teaching?

I have been staying at home for the past few months. But I generally like to go on extensive round-trips. So far some of the major destinations I have visited are:
Sufism, Advaita Vedanta, Dzogchen Buddhism, Analytic Idealism, J. Krishnamurti’s teachings, and Zen
I have kept some nice wisdom souvenirs along the way but no persistent practices.

1. What's your text? What text, personal experience, quote from a master, or story from zen lore best reflects your understanding of the essence of zen?

I can’t really pick one but here are the top 3:
Treasury of the Eye of True Teaching #16

Layman Pang said, “Just aspire to empty all that is; don’t solidify what is not.”

On The Transmission by of Mind by Huang Po

Suppose a warrior, forgetting that he was already wearing his pearl on his forehead, were to seek for it elsewhere, he could travel the whole world without finding it. But if someone who knew what was wrong were to point it out to him, the warrior would immediately realize that the pearl had been there all the time. So, if you students of the Way are mistaken about your own real Mind, not recognizing that it is the Buddha, you will consequently look for him elsewhere, indulging in various achievements and practices and expecting to attain realization by such graduated practices. But, even after aeons of diligent searching, you will not be able to attain to the Way.

From Instant Zen:

When Caoshan took leave of Dongshan, Dongshan asked, “Where are you going?” Caoshan replied, “To an unchanging place.” Dongshan retorted, “ If it is an unchanging place, how could there be any going?” Caoshan replied, “The going is also unchanging.”

1. Dharma low tides? What do you suggest as a course of action for a student wading through a "dharma low-tide"? What do you do when it's like pulling teeth to read, bow, chant, sit, or post on zen

I am not really sure what this is because I don’t really do any of these things in a ritualistic way. I read during the time I have set aside to read, if that’s not Zen reading for the day then that’s that. I post here when I have an insight or question worth sharing or asking or when I feel like it would be appropriate and helpful to respond to something I see in a post.
AMA :)

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For those of you who have read the Mercy sample chapter it's very clear that George is intending for Arya's relationship with her sexuality and her development into being a woman grown to be something that get's explored.

give Izembaro's cock a little suck and a girl can wear nay costume that she wants. Mercy was not so foolish as all that... " Girls who start down that road wind up on the ship, where every man in the pit knows he can have any pretty thing he might see up on the stage...:

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" Bobono's cock was indeed flopping out. It was made to flop out..." Mercy, Mercy come to my room tonight and make a man of me." " I'll make a eunuch of you if you keep unlacing yourself just so I'll fiddle your crotch."

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...With that he grabbed at her chest, fumbling for a nipple . " You have no titties. How can I rape a girl with no titties?" ... I'll grow titties in a year or two, but you'll never grow another nose. You think of that, before you touch me there.

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" If this Izembaro wants to be hospitable, it would be rude to refuse." He gave her nipple a tweak through the fabric of her dress...Mummers are the next best thing to whores." "Might be but this one is a child. " " I am not", lied Mercy. " I'm a maiden now"

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It's pretty clear that Arya playing at being a maiden implies that pretty soon we will get a chapter about her becoming a maiden. When reading the very opening of the Mercy sample chapter it's not difficult to imagine Arya having a wolf dream that intimately relates to her first moon blood.

She woke with a gasp, not knowing who she was, or where. The smell of blood was heavy in her nostrils... or was that her nightmare, lingering? she had dreamed of wolves again..."

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She took a breath to quiet the howling in her heart, trying to remember more of what she'd dreamt, but most of it had gone already. There had been blood in it, though, and a full moon overhead... The air had grown chilly, and a good thing, else she might have slept all day. It would be just like Mercy to sleep through her own rape.

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Consider how Sansa's first flowering happened with a dream.

That night Sansa dreamed of the riot again. The mob surged around her, shrieking, a maddened beast with a thousand faces....Women swarmed over her like weasels, pinching her legs and kicking her in the belly,.. Then she saw the bright glimmer of steel. The knife plunged into her belly and tore and tore and tore, until there was nothing left of her down there but shiny wet ribbons...

and then she wakes

There was something sticky on her thighs . When she threw back the blanket and saw the blood, all she could think was that her dream had somehow come true... (Sansa, ACOK)

My bold prediction though is that it won't just be that Nymeria get's bloody in a dream right before Arya's flowering, but instead Nymeria will go into heat as Arya "flowers".
We are repeatedly told throughout the series that a warg and their wolf are extensions of one another and that they both influence each other. While direwolf biology can work however George wants it to it's worth noting that for wolves sexual maturity is reached between 2- 3 years of age and their heat cycle usually begins in the deep winter months of January and February. Nymeria is in that age range and winter is here.
The Varamyr Sixskins chapter describes how there are three abominations: Eating of human flesh, having sex wolf to wolf ( or whatever animal you skinchange), and skin changing into a human being. Many people assume that Bran will commit all of the abominations, and he very well might later on, but he is much farther from puberty than Arya and boys already start puberty later than girls. It wouldn't be keeping with the idea that the wolves reflect something about their partner for Summer to start before Bran even has those kinds of thoughts. At the very least Arya will be the first Stark to commit that abomination.
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Edit: Yes...This is all very gross.

My dad cheated on all his wives and I am very upset about it.
TLDR: I feel immature for not being able to just forgive my dad for cheating on his wives and creating such a tough/ broken family life for me.
Details A few nights ago my mom was very drunk and started telling me all kind of things from when her and my dad were together. She told me everything from when she started dating as an adult, to when she met my father, to when they got married, to when they got divorced and all the details in between. I learned that night my dad cheated on my mom multiple time with multiple women and had no real remorse for it (he later had a second child also cheating on that wife which landed him in another divorce) growing up my mom was a very distraught woman - she drank a lot, and still does, and beat the crap out of me when she was drunk (until I was old and big enough to defend myself) I’m now totally convinced she only really heavily drank because of how bad her relationship with my dad was and she beat me because I was my dads child and I veryyy closely resembled my dad (we look veryyy similar physically) anyways I saw my dad a reasonable amount growing up, but my dad has told me (while drunk) if I was female or if I was gay/ bisexual (I have felt urges towards other males when I was on therapy for depression) he would have had and still have nothing to do with me. Growing up my dad never really physically disciplined me (I’ve always thought it was because he felt bad about my mom beating me) in early highs school I asked if I could move in with him and he told me no that he did not have the money to support me full time as at this point I would only be around every other weekend and some holidays (this was not consistent because there were times he would be on business trips or could not see me for one reason or another but would always try to make it up by getting me Ice cream or a new video game I really wanted) I knew it was just a way to make up by giving me material goods and at the time I was okay with it because I got something I really wanted that my mom would never get for me but now as an adult or early adult I feel much different about those gifts. my dad has always been somewhat of an idol in my eyes, but now (over the past 2-3 years) I’ve learned and see things that make me really dislike my dad as a person (I think in some ways he tried his best but I feel a high level of anger and not wanting to be associated with him) I am a huge pile of conflicted emotions and not really sure what to think about it all. Growing up my dad was supportive and came to different sports games sometimes but nothing else (I really enjoyed scholars bowl and won awards frequently and he always told me I and my nerd friends could celebrate alone) he was not very supportive when I left medicine to go into finance and he hasn’t been very supportive in my most recent relationship - this girl has been one of the most amazing partners I’ve ever had (he says we’re moving to fast and I am drifting from my family) I have recently felt that I really, in some ways, do not even want him present at my wedding (I would love his monetary support because it’s expensive, but after learning more about who he is I just feel he’s a selfish ahole who did not understand how to be faithful to a partner) my dad has had a tough life, things were not always easy for him he grew up in an emotionally abusive household and his dad ran around a lot on his mom. I’m trying to remember that the way he acted reflected what he knew or what he learned from his childhood based on the way his parents were and that’s how he became as an adult, in some ways he was just a product of his environment and in others he knew exactly what he was doing wrong and did not hint to prevent it he never went to couple therapy he never asked for a break ofr divorce before cheating. My dad is just not the man I thought he was an I’m very upset by it all. His wives have always been slightly disrespectful to me (telling me things like I don’t behave or I’m a baby for crying or I’m a wimp for not standing up for myself or I’m a loser for dropping out of med school) I realize he has his own problems and it took time for him to admit those issues and try to work through those problems, but I can’t help but thinking my dad is a POS and I feel like I’m not being very understanding and being very judgmental - this is not all about me but I’m so upset he lied about everything that happened and just continued his way of life..

Contact JahCoin#5396 - Or join https://discord.gg/mw2lobbies if interested!
What can this be used for? - Boosting your mw2 stats - Levelling up any guns - Maxing out all your weapons easily - No grind needed for your camos easily obtian gold, platinum, Polyatomic and Orion with just a few games
How does it work? - All bots are run off PS5s, and are completely safe to play against. - They'll stand more or less still, moving periodically to avoid AFK timers. - They'll fire randomly, but never attack you. - It's completely safe for you. All the kills and stats you get in game will count as if it were a real match.
NORMAL / SHIPMENT BOT LOBBY PRICES: - 1 Bot Lobby - $7 - 3 Bot Lobbies - $20 - 5 Bot Lobbies - $29 - 10 Bot Lobbies - $57 - 20 Bot Lobbies - $105 - 50 Bot Lobbies - $240
LONGSHOT BOT LOBBY PRICES: - 1 Longshot Bot Lobby - $11 - 3 Longshot Bot Lobbies - $30 - 5 Longshot Bot Lobbies - $47 - 10 Longshot Bot Lobbies - $87 - 20 Longshot Bot Lobbies - $165
NUKE SERVICE - Get the calling card, skin, and emblem! - $85 - ( will need account details, can be done in ~a day )
PAYMENT METHODS - PAYPAL THROUGH FRIENDS AND FAMILY AND MOST MAJOR CRYPTOCURRENCIES ARE ACCEPTED
RULES / MUST READ - 1.If there is another player running around Do Not Kill! They are not a bot, bots will all have the same operator for easy identification! - 2.Never use any Player Killing kill-streaks! Replace your streaks for a UAV and Advanced UAV only! This is going to help speed up your kills and tracking of the players. Do not use counter UAVs, SAEs, Chopper Gunners, VTOLs, Ect. You may effect the lobby of the another person. - 3.Equip a grenade! Equip a Tactical Insert! Equip Scavenger Perk for ammunition. Equip Eagle Eye! When you have 20-25 kills (shortly after an advanced UAV is recommended so you don't accidently NUKE), place a Tactical Insert near the spawn to avoid running around and run 15 feet to kill yourself, and pull your standard grenade and hold in hand until it blows. - 4.Never use nuke! Nuke will end the game, and nuke is a high risk of being banned. You may be penalized one game if you call in a nuke.
Notice of how to play: Domination: Spawn and capture your nearest flag. Avoid B. Run to their spawn and murder! Capturing B will cause the game to end faster. This is at your own cost!
Discord: JahCoin#5396 - Discord with Vouches: https://discord.gg/mw2lobbies

So I wanted a place to vent this...It hurt my feelings and I guess I just want to be heard.
I got married last year (last July 2022) and had a great wedding. Like any person, I obviously put a lot of effort and work into my wedding.
For context, I have three close best friends who all were in my wedding party. Let's call them Melissa, Janice and Alicia. Alicia was my MoH.
Yesterday I had my friends over for a girl's evening - except for my one friend Melissa who lives abroad. We see each other maybe once a year now. She was away in Chicago at her sister's wedding. Her sister just got married last week. During our hangout yesterday, my friend Alicia brought up Melissa's sister's wedding and made some comments about the venue, dress etc as people do when a new person we know is married. I hadn't seen many photos posted so I asked where she saw them. She responded and said, "oh Melissa sent them to me - let me show you!". She gave me her phone and we went through a couple of photos. Alicia then went to the bathroom. I was still scrolling through some photos. Without thinking (and just a reaction whilst holding a phone), I minimized the photos from the screen and saw the conversation between Alicia and Melissa in the Instagram chat. I read some of the messages. It was a reaction as for a second I thought I was holding my own phone. What I read was:
Melissa: here is a picture of my sister's wedding! (the picture was a Instagram story so it was gone because the story expired - so I couldn't actually see what it was of)
Alicia responded: OH wow! It's 1000x more beautiful than Megan's wedding!!!!"
and then I stopped reading... it really hurt my feelings. I was so taken aback. I started sweating and was shocked for some reason. I put the phone down and Alicia came back into the room. I told her "OH I accidentally thought your phone was my phone so I went through it on accident"....and then I went to the bathroom. I needed a moment to regulate because I was so caught off guard and hurt...
I guess I'm just hurt that I saw this convo occur between my two best friends....it's such a weird but also a mean thing to say in response to another wedding. And what else bugged me was it occurred between my two best friends who I've known for over 15 years. I couldn't help but wonder what OTHER things they have said about me...I know friends talk about each other - venting, etc. I didn't read what Melissa said but am now thinking what if she said someone equally mean...or if they said other things to each other about my wedding.
I know it sounds small and it really is. And I really could care less what they actually think. I loved my wedding! And I don't need friends to tell me...but its always nice to hear nice things about your events or things you put a lot of love into!
But it did hurt. I guess I just really wasn't expecting to see that kind of thing said. After this happened, I regulated myself and just carried on with the evening of hosting and friends. We still had a great time and I tried not to let it bug me. Alicia ended up staying the night...I didn't treat her differently or ignore her or anything...I just treated her as a friend because I didn't want to damper my feelings or go on about it. I also didn't want to confront her about it. I texted my mom about it and she told me I should confront her...I didnt and dont think I will. What would be the point? Validation? An apology? I dont really care for those
The comment itself wasn't THAT mean, it's not like she said my wedding was garbage or anything but it is how I took it at first.
The next morning I could tell that Alicia MAYBE knew I saw the convo. She then brought up Melissa's sister's wedding again and then started raving about mine... said it was such a beautiful day, nothing was missing, it was perfect, the venue was spectacula a dream etc. which was so out of the blue...SO I suspected she figured I saw something and was trying to rave and make nice comments to band-aid the wound.
Again, I'm making this post for venting, and express some feelings of hurt. How would you feel? Thoughts on this? Should I tell her I saw it?

I was recently talking to much younger adoptees and discovered that they did not know about closed record domestic adoptions, and that they definitely did not know about the Baby Scoop era.
I am a Baby Scoop baby myself. I will tell my story here, and what I know about my mother's story. It's not unusual at all for 1967.
My mother, who was 22 and unmarried when she got pregnant, entered a maternity home run by a religious organization. The maternity home paid for itself through an arrangement it had with an adoption placement agency, as well as through church funding. According to interview transcripts, my mother was told by the maternity home that if she did not go through with giving me up, she would have to reimburse them for the cost of her room and board and hospital fees.
I have had one letter from my mother. She said that when I was born, she was told she could not hold me or name me as it would be for the best if she forgot about me, as those things might make her too attached. She said she wanted no contact with me now, and I have complied. However, I have demanded my records from the agency. I have seen my foster care records. They say I cried a lot when I was left alone, and so they put me down and left me alone a lot to "train" me to soothe myself as a newborn infant.
I know that I went from the hospital directly to a group foster home that was run by the adoption agency. The agency was paid by the state for infant foster care. They were required by law to foster us for one month before they were legally eligible to place us. I don't know if my mother was ever even told what agency took me. The adoption agency then charged my adoptive parents the equivalent of a new car in 1967 dollars - I have the invoices and the receipts. Some of that money went to the religious maternity home, to assist in covering my mothers' costs, but a lot of state money was also paid out to social workers from the agency and to the agency itself for the mandated foster care. Between the state's payments and my adoptive parents' payments, I seem to have inadvertently paid a lot of people's salaries as a brand-new baby.
The adoption agency placed me on the day that the legally-required one month of foster care was up. At the time, if possible, prospective adoptive families were matched to babies by skin color and race, so that the baby would "match" the new parents and the adoption could be hidden from everyone. My amended birth certificate lists my skin color. My race, however, was incorrect as provided by the agency. It matched my adoptive parents. I don't know whether the agency changed it, or if my bio mother lied, or if she truly did not know who my actual father was. I did not know my actual race from my father's side until DNA kits became publicly available. I only knew that I did not visually match my adoptive parents, and that it did not make sense because I was "the same" as them. I'm not the only adoptee whose race was was changed to match white parents. I have seen other adoptees' stories here and elsewhere.
When my adoption decree was signed, all of my vital records were sealed and my birth certificate was amended. This was standard practice. I am not allowed to see my birth certificate to this day because of the laws of the state I was born in.
My mother was not offered any counseling or help following the birth, as was standard. I assume that once she gave birth, she was no longer valuable enough to waste resources on. Before my birth, she was counseled in a series of coercively-worded interviews from state social workers. She was told that she was giving me to a "much more stable" home with a married couple. My "much more stable" adoptive home was evaluated by a series of three home visits from the agency social workers, these visits again paid for by the state. My new home was with two alcoholics with marital problems they hoped a baby would fix. They divorced, and my adoptive father walked away, leaving me with a single mother, just like I would have started with if my actual mother had not been convinced to give me away to the strangers who stood to profit off me.
I am not angry at my mother or my adoptive parents. However, if thoughts could set fires, the agency would be ashes by now.
Are there other Baby Scoop babies here?

Hi, friends. This is the first original choral piece I've written in nearly 30 years. It's an SSAATTBB setting of a poem by Elsa Gidlow. I'd be grateful for your feedback & critiques. I've added some of my own below (feel free to ignore... I needed to get it off my chest).
I wrote the piece for the 2023 VOCES8 composition competition. There were over 600 submissions and I wasn't a finalist. But I learned a ton from the experience and it felt good to focus on creating music again.
Thanks in advance for listening and for sharing your thoughts. I want to get better and keep at this. Many thanks!
Video (Score & Audio Demo): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mK4E5qNxkq0
Score (PDF): https://drive.google.com/file/d/1iBMwYpkIp5MmY6M_-KtdmCYZTTyojWRu/view?usp=share_link
Good: - I can honestly say that parts of it are really lovely, with a nice mix of dissonance and pretty harmonies - Good voice leading, each part is very singable despite some tricky chords - "And the pines sing one song" near the end might be the best thing I'll ever write... it's a good climactic moment - Some nice word painting (men going low on "valley is deep", swirling "winds blow", dissonance/tension on "desire", cresting melody at "top of the world", etc.) - I love the poem and was careful in selecting and adapting it
Bad: - Not intricate or complex enough for this contest, not enough of a showpiece for an 8-part premier vocal ensemble - Not enough variety, too homophonic/chordal... I wrote most of it at the keyboard and it shows... needs more counterpoint and variety in texture - I got hemmed in by using 3/4 time, which made it too "sing-song"-y at times - Too many suspensions, probably gets old - Should have explored the lower range more, especially with the basses - Need to work on getting more adventurous when straying from the home key... I tiptoed away from D major several places but only briefly

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Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. The Tent. Local Time: 0500 Hours.
Emma Booker
I fucked up.
Big time.
And I had no one else but myself to blame.
You know that feeling when you dive head-first into a project that you had zero doubts would somehow work itself out in the end?
The sudden surge of confidence that comes when you let the indomitable human spirit take the wheel?
Well that was me at 0300 hours when my eyes landed upon the hygiene module, and pictured the inevitable outcome of a steaming hot shower after an entire day of nonstop grinding.
I couldn’t help myself but to fall into the same trap as every other would-be DIY-er. I couldn’t stop the excitement, the sudden surge of energy, and the absolute hyperfixation that came with completing a project that promised nothing but endless positives, at the expense of some time and effort that would prove minimal in the grand scheme of things.
And just like every would-be DIY-er, I was this close to completing the task at hand, before finally reaching a roadblock that inevitably brought everything to a screeching halt.
FINAL STEP: REFER TO [UNDESIGNATED WATER SOURCE] FOR ATTACHMENT OF INTAKE PIPE [EIP23] TO EXTERNAL PUMPING MODULE [EPM-1].
That one, final instruction, decimated me.
Especially as I got to that final step at just shy of 0500 hours, when I finally had the entire damn module set up, only to realize that I had missed out on a vital pre-procedure checklist that I’d purposefully skipped because I’d assumed it would be a non-issue.
ENVIRONMENTAL PREREQUISITE: LOCATE, EVALUATE, AND SECURE A RELIABLE WATER SOURCE.
And that’s why I only had myself to blame for this fiasco.
Because I’d assumed that the availability of a water-source in the dorms would’ve been an open and shut case. It only made sense for me to make that assumption though, as I saw that Thacea had clearly used the dorm’s en-suite to shower just the night before.
It was because of this that I didn’t even bother checking the bathroom to begin with. I thought that whatever was in there could’ve easily fit the hyper-modular fittings of the source-intake pipe.
Things couldn’t have been further from the truth however, as what I saw within that bathroom made me question the very fabric of my own reality.
As within those four marble walls, was nothing.
Nothing, but a series of dull flat marble surfaces, and some strange wall-fittings that looked like something out of a 21st century ‘modern’ art exhibit.
There was nothing here that resembled a tap, or even hinted at the fact that there were even any pipes carrying running water behind those four bare walls.
The only other thing of note here was an unseen light source keeping the bathroom lit.
Aside from that, there was literally nothing else here.
This meant I had only one option available to me.
The most logical and straightforward option, of simply nudging the avinor princess awake just so I could ask where I could find a fucking tap.
Whilst it was the most straightforward thing to do, I just couldn’t get myself to do it.
I’d thought about going up those stairs to nudge the avian awake, to then apologize profusely for disturbing her sleep… but given everything Thacea had done for me thus far, and considering the fact that I was responsible for almost all of the headaches we were currently experiencing, it just felt wrong for me to disturb here at that hour.
So I was left with the inconvenient truth of my circumstances, and decided to just embrace the suck, toughing out the folly of my hubris…
At least, until morning came around.
At that point, I could rest easy in actually asking the princess for pointers on the enigmatic machinations of the bathroom.
Until then, I would sleep.
And hopefully, my shortsighted adventure would bear some fruit when morning rears its ugly head around.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1000 Hours.
Emma Booker
Good news: Half of my hard work actually paid off.
Bad news: Only half of my hard work actually paid off.
Upon waking up three hours later, forcing my carcass up and back into the suit, I’d managed to flag down Thacea just as she was getting out of bed.
The princess’ reactions to my questions were nothing short of the politeness I’d expected from her.
Which managed to put me at ease as I was getting worried I was starting to get on her nerves with my constant flurry of questions.
The bathroom turned out to be yet another demonstration of the Nexus’ completely unhinged philosophies. As it relied entirely on a mana user’s manipulation of the room to operate. Apparently, whoever designed this place took the whole concept of a modular, personalized room, and just ran with it. Making it so that every aspect of the room relied solely on the mana user to work, as they had to shape, form, and structure the otherwise blank slate before use. This was supposedly done so that the room could be made to fit the precise criterion of a person’s liking. To me however, it just felt like another bizarre concept pulled straight out of the Nexus’ seemingly endless idea-pool of zany, overkill, and mana-addled solutions to problems that sort of existed.
Thankfully, the bathroom didn’t require constant intervention from a mana-user to operate, as certain elements could be permanently turned on.
This included the water mains, which I immediately hooked up the pipes to, as the mana-contaminated water was quickly siphoned into a series of filtration units, all with the express purpose of extracting and removing every ounce of mana present within the water.
This process took about two hours to do.
But by the end of it, I was rewarded for all my troubles by one of the best showers I’ve ever had.
All of the stress, even the constant ticking of the bomb which constantly gnawed at the back of my mind, seemed to fade away for a few short minutes as the warm water washed everything away.
But that about wrapped up the good news.
The bad news however, came in the form of the little MREDD experiment from the previous night.
As I opened the triple-airlocked compartment on my side of the tent, I was met with what could only be described as ‘food’ in name and aesthetics alone.
The soft, white, fluffy loaf of bread had literally become a baton. Whilst the pancakes were now more reminiscent of a mini-frisbee that cracked and crumbled the moment I laid my fingers on them.
My immeasurable disappointment grew the longer I stood there next to the MREDD, and the longer I stared at the small stack of dust that was once a perfectly cooked stack of pancakes.
Beyond this however, I could feel a bit of anxiety seeping in, as the results of the experiment did make me a bit anxious as to the long-term food security of this mission.
Then again, I should’ve expected this result.
It was the first calibration test after all.
“I should’ve expected this, shouldn’t I?” I spoke to no one in particular, but quickly garnered the attention of the EVI who remained within the power armor that currently stood imposingly just a few feet away from me.
“That is correct, Cadet Booker. As you are already aware, the MREDD is designed with multiple calibration protocols in-effect, each which correspond to the type and densities of the foodstuffs to be desaturated. In addition to this, the systems are designed to test the maximal extraction threshold against the subjective palatability gradient with the food safety variable as an integral aspect of these tests. Thus, the first-round extraction procedures dictate that the MREDD will attempt maximal extraction settings, in order to both stress-test the components and systems, as well as to garner data on the mana-extraction process at the maximal setting.”
I blinked rapidly upon hearing the EVI’s explanation being blasted from my suit’s speakers. It felt somewhat jarring turning around to face my armor talking to me. But then again, I should’ve expected it, as I’d yet to set up any other speaker systems within the tent for it to speak through.
“I know, EVI. They already ran everything by me during the briefings. Though I would be lying if I didn’t say I sort of hoped that putting the food under full blast for 7 hours would’ve somehow miraculously resulted in something edible.” I managed out with a sigh.
“Cadet Booker, it is logical to assume that since the extraction of mana from both food and water is indeed viable, that the only point of contention is now the palatability of the foodstuffs rendered through the MREDD.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off as I began tapping on the loaf of bread that sounded like styrofoam when I hit it against the armor. “I think you and I have different definitions of palatable.”
“I am confident that the mana-extraction process can be optimized, Cadet Booker. It is at this point that I must ask that you assess the palatability of the designated foodstuff marked CONSUMABLE GROUP A, ITEM 1, for the purposes of data-gathering and analysis.” The AI spoke in a no-nonsense fashion, as I turned around, giving it a look of utter incredulity.
“You want me to try to eat this?” I shot back, tapping on the styrofoam bread for added effect.
“I require data on the palatability of foodstuff A-1 [BREAD] as it is a subjective dataset relying entirely on the input of the human subject.” The AI continued.
I couldn’t help but to shudder at that last line, especially with how it was delivered.
Popular media back home was currently going through another AI-apocalypse phase, with a lot of movies, both immersive and traditional, diving deep into the uncomfortable topics of human-AI relations post AI-takeover.
Being stuck in a bare, white tent, with a monotone, somewhat disgruntled-sounding VI talking to me through a suit of armor several heads taller than me all the while suddenly referring to me as subject really wasn’t doing my movie-binging gremlin brain any favors.
I hesitated for a few seconds, tentatively staring at the bread, then the armor, then back to the bread again, before finally just going for it...
CRUNCH
It did not end well.
“Cadet Booker, I did not require that you actively consume a foodstuff you consider inedible or are uncomfortable eating. I merely needed a dataset for the purposes of this experiment, even if that data-set is a refusal to consume the foodstuff in question.”
I stared back at the VI with unamused eyes and a mouthful of hard-tack currently turning my mouth into the Greater Sahara.
“Damnghit Aeevi.” I managed out with a mouth full of bland, stale bread, before reaching for the water dispenser which thankfully still had some mana-free water inside of it.
“Shall I log A-1 down as unpalatable then, Cadet?” The AI spoke with a hint of disappointment in its voice.
Though I was probably just imagining the actual tone of its voice.
Projection was a heck of a thing after all.
“Yes. And make sure you clarify your intent next time.” I snapped back, as I finished up what limited bits of housekeeping I needed to for now. Which included punting the balled-up undersuit into the washer, getting the wash and dry cycle started, before grabbing a fresh undersuit from the cargo airlock and quickly putting it on.
“I guess the next test with the MREDD includes extracting mana at a slow, sustained rate?” I spoke as I began recalibrating the different electronic components within the undersuit.
“Correct, Cadet Booker. Provided of course, that the foodstuffs are of a similar type, and contain similar properties to GROUP A.”
“Acknowledged.” I responded promptly, shuddering a bit as the haptic feedback finished its calibration cycles. “Alright then, we got a lot of work ahead of us, so let’s get going. System status, SRR?” I asked as per protocol, steadying my hand on the suit’s ‘backpack’.
“Diagnostics running… pending… All systems nominal, Cadet Booker. Status: Ready for standard operations.”
“Operator acknowledges system status after pre-mission diagnostics.” I replied dryly, and with a few final breaths I pulled myself back into the armor. “Current objectives? Preferably the ones I listed before dozing off last night?” I continued, as my eyes quickly readjusted to the constant assault on the senses that was the HUD.
“Priority Objective: Locate and Secure Container 10. Current time remaining until activation of the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties Protocols… 36 hours, 34 minutes, and 47 seconds.”
“Alright then, let’s pay a visit to our dear old friend… hopefully she’s alive and lucid enough to get us to the bottom of this little predicament.”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1020 Hours.
Emma Booker
Transitioning from the tent to the marble and cobblestone world of the Academy was always jarring. Opening those external protective flaps to reveal something that wasn’t more bare white paneling and drab gray composalite would probably be something I’d need to get used to.
I got into the swing of things quick enough, as I was met with the likes of Thacea who was busy reading on one of the many ornate seats that formed the mini-living room within our loft.
“Was the water to your liking, Emma?” Thacea asked with a clack of her beak.
“I managed to squeeze in a couple minutes worth of a shower, so that’s a win in my book!” I beamed out. “But with a constant stream of filtered water filling up my reservoirs now, I should be able to get something more substantial later tonight.”
The princess nodded slowly at that. “The lengths to which you need to go, just to attain what we take for granted on a daily basis, is quite remarkable Emma.”
“It is what it is, Thacea.” I shrugged in response. “The very air I breathe needs to be filtered. This whole world, or heck, even your worlds are actively hostile to human life. These measures are something that are cumbersome, and seriously draining to deal with, but it’s necessary. Besides, it’s not as if these measures are something new where I come from. My people have had a history of intrepid explorers, brave pioneers, and foolish thrillseekers who all surge forward into inhospitable domains just so they can crest the next wave, or see what’s over the next hill.” I paused for a moment, as I was tempted to strike a pose, but quickly decided against it. “I’m just furthering a legacy that’s already been established. Or at least, I hope I’m doing that. Heck if I know if I’m actually doing things right. Nine times out of ten, I feel like I’m just making the best of my situation.”
“I can’t say I can understand the appeal of this legacy of actively seeking hostile-domains.” Thacea responded with an equal mix of curiosity and genuine concern. “And I do not know what manner of civilization would result from such a culture, though I do harbor a morbid curiosity to inquire further… However, I can most certainly resonate with your latter statements, Emma. Half of the court politics I contend with simply amounts to making do with the hand you’ve been dealt, of making best of one’s situation, and doing whatever it is in your limited scope and power to maintain life, security, and perhaps some waning semblance of your own personal liberty. It’s a great game, where doubt comes naturally as a result of being a player and not the host.”
There was a small pause that followed Thacea’s response as one point in particular caught my attention more than any other.
It was unfortunate that it was so topical as well, given how if things had turned out any differently, this conversation would’ve moved right on into an hours-long exchange of life and culture.
Thacea mentioning the concept of a great game, immediately brought me back to the conversation with Ilunor the previous night.
“Thacea… would you mind if I consulted you on something?” I began, as the gears in my head began turning now at the first major issue of the day.
The princess seemed to catch on as she leaned forward in her seat intently, and nodded. “By all means.”
“Something happened last night at the workshop, and it wasn’t anything to do with the armorer… though, we can talk about that later.” I took a deep breath as I shelved that topic for another time. “Did you happen to pay any attention to Ilunor’s whereabouts after I left for the workshop?”
“Not particularly, no. Lord Rul-, erm, Ilunor had seemingly remained in his room until Thalmin and I retired to our respective rooms. After that, I simply have no recollection of anything beyond my own domicile.”
“Well, Ilunor followed me to the workshop.” I stated plainly, pausing for a moment to gauge Thacea’s reaction. Of which there really was none as she managed to keep that signature poker-face that was probably second nature to her by now.
“And I’m assuming since you managed to uncover this, that his meddling had failed in some way shape or form?” Thacea shot back coolly.
“Correct. However, here’s where things get complicated. I’ll save the bulk of the events for later, but long story short, that discount kobold decided to use some sort of a projection spell to spook me just as I was in the middle of the weapons inspection with the armorer, and the projection used wasn’t just something a random monster or anything… he purposefully chose to bring out a carbon-copy version of the null.”
Thacea’s face shifted at this, which given how difficult it was to phase her, probably meant her mind was going through the full implications of this revelation.
I pressed on as Thacea urged me to continue with a single nod. “Well, I shot it. And, no, nobody was hurt. Fast forward a chase sequence later, and the armorer eventually managed to corner and capture Ilunor. However, when we pressed him for answers about why he was there to begin with? Well… I think it’ll be better for you to see for yourself.”
It was with this that I brought out my data-pad, and began replaying the relevant scenes for Thacea to see.
Starting from the brief spats between Ilunor and the armorer, all the way to my confrontation with the diminutive lizard, Thacea’s gaze remained completely transfixed. She did flinch a bit when the footage finally went over my dealings with the lizard, and Ilunor’s sudden shift in persona as I pulled out the library card and began talking his language.
Yet despite being inundated with this sudden flood of information, with a completely unexpected tangent, she soon responded cooly and without much in the way of a delay. “This complicates matters.” She began slowly. “This entire situation calls for a complete reevaluation of the dynamics of this peer group, and how we need to approach Lord Rul-, Ilunor.” Thacea promptly corrected herself before continuing. “There’s a great number of layers to this unexpected development, each of which hints at a greater game being played here, and points at the fact that there are a great number of interested parties beyond just Ilunor.” The princess took a moment to let out an exasperated coo, her eyes finally moving away from the tablet and back to me. “You must understand as well as I, that Ilunor’s actions do not constitute a scheme of his own making, correct?”
“That I do.” I nodded simply. “The fact that he’s even bothering to do this in the first place is outside of his whole I’m above you persona. I’m not sure if the same rings true here, but where I come from, becoming a spook is not something that most people in high and mighty positions would ever stoop down to. Besides, I think we have a lead. I don’t think a student would actively defer a bit of punishment from a lower level administrator, in order to fast-track it to the highest authorities if they weren’t in cahoots with them.”
“This coincides with my observations of these developments as well, Emma.” Thacea responded with a resonant chirp. “To add to this, his knowledge of the null is most certainly not circumstantial, and considering he was absent from our adventures the previous day, his knowledge of this creature would hint to either the feeding of information via a higher benefactor, or a direct observation of our activities from afar. Either way, this does not bode well.”
“This leads me to what I wanted to consult you on, Thacea. If Ilunor’s out there waiting for us right now, would it be best if we confronted him outright in front of Thalmin or-”
“No.” Thacea interjected sharply, and with a certainty that was almost uncharacteristic of her. “Confronting Ilunor out in the open, in front of others not privy to you and the Vunerian’s current game, would be outright suicide to the dialogue you’ve managed to broker with him the previous night. You’ve managed to prove yourself as not just another pawn, but a player in the game, at least in Ilunor’s eyes. It would be wise to maintain that momentum, Emma. By continuing this line of dialogue with him in private, there is a higher likelihood the Vunerian will divulge more information as he speaks to you frankly, beyond what his current facade will allow. This is now a matter between you and the Vunerian, as Thalmin and I are not privy to these political transactions.”
I couldn’t help but to mimic the princess by gripping my forehead as well, letting out a sigh as the dread of complex court politics had begun seeping in faster than I expected. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I’ll just let that situation slide for now, making sure not to mention my dealings with Ilunor when he’s around, and focus instead on our other problems. It’s not like we have a shortage of other things to worry about after all.” I sighed sharply.
“That is an acceptable plan. ” Thacea responded promptly as she stood up and began straightening out her uniform. “Right then, shall we proceed?”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1025 Hours.
Emma Booker
As we exited the bedroom, we were once more met with a similar sight reminiscent of the previous day’s. As there, on the couch, were the bickering pair that had seemed to have carried over their arguments from the previous night.
Except this time, the context seemed to have thankfully shifted to something new.
“Every minute I waste in this room for the sake of that Earthrealmer is another minute that I grow increasingly more famished. It is unbecoming of a noble to sit in waiting for a commoner. In fact, it should be the other way around. Or perhaps this is yet another one of your Havenbrockian reforms that test the Nexus’ patience, Prince Thalmin?” I could hear Ilunor snapping at Thalmin just as we made our way into the living room proper.
Thalmin, amazingly, resisted responding in kind as he got up as soon as we made our way towards the pair.
“We were waiting for the both of you, but it should be fine. Should we miss the breakfast, there is always an a la carte menu we can-”
“I have met the criterion for your unlawful detainment, mercenary. Thus, I shall take my leave.” Ilunor promptly jumped off from the couch and began trotting his way over to the door, his little legs were clearly attempting to generate some sort of a forceful series of thumps as he did so, but only resulted in a light series of taps given his diminutive size.
“Hold on a minute there! That wasn’t our agreement! You agreed to-”
“I agreed to wait for the Earthrealmer and the tainted one. I have no other reason to be here. Now, I must resume my extracurriculars. You lot can do whatever it is you get up to. I will be having none of it.” Ilunor turned to face the Lupinor one final time, before slamming the front door shut, and skittering off.
This made things so much simpler as it meant we were in the clear for now.
“I’m sorry princess.” Thalmin turned to face Thacea. “I thought we might be able to squeeze something out of him yet, but the Vunerian continues to be as squirmy as a prairie rodent.”
“It’s quite alright, Thalmin.” Thacea began, as she turned towards me as if to confirm whether or not I wanted her to proceed on my behalf. To which I did. “There are a few matters we must address regarding Ilunor, which I suggest we do over a short breakfast, as we have even more pressing matters following this.”
After a reluctant pause, the lupinor prince nodded in agreement, leading to both of us sitting down-
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
-and a privacy screen being brought down soon after.
“So, shall we talk about this over a brunch platter?”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to the Healing Wing. Local Time: 1050 Hours.
Thalmin’s reactions were nothing short of what I’d expected.
There was absolute outrage, followed by an unrepentant series of growls, capped off with barks of seething anger at the same clips I’d played for Thacea earlier.
The mercenary prince was perhaps even more uncomfortable than I was at my entry into this game, as it was clear Thalmin despite his noble heritage, wasn’t really one to dabble in it at all.
“I’m telling you Emma, this is a dangerous path forward. Are you certain you are making the wisest choice?” He spoke once again, continuing the conversation from earlier, underneath yet another privacy screen Thacea was maintaining as we approached the medical wing.
“I don’t like it either, Thalmin. There’s nothing more I hate than playing politics, but it’s unfortunately a pill I have to swallow if we’re going to get to the bottom of the issues surrounding Ilunor. I mean, I overheard you guys arguing late into the night. I really don’t think confronting him normally is going to get us anywhere.”
The lupinor let out a sigh of defeat at that, as he lowered his head in my general direction. “I can’t fault that logic, Emma. Perhaps… speaking his language, as you put it, would bring us some resolution to this frankly irritating problem. However…” The Lupinor’s voice lowered, just as we were about to reach the doors to the healing wing proper. “I know how these games work, Emma. It’s dangerous, so make sure you tread lightly, and just know that I, as part of your peer group, am here to support you should the need arise.” The prince reassured me with a smirk, as we pushed past the double doors and into the medical wing proper.
Or at least, that’s what I thought, as we entered what looked to be a massive circular room with multiple branching hallways connected to it like spokes on a wheel. In typical Academy-fashion however, the room really wasn’t at all modest with its size. As it went up a solid twenty or so stories, with high pillars piercing straight up into a marble-lined rotunda with moving murals painted on it like some grand cathedral. Between these pillars were little outcroppings where several gargoyles were perched.
Gargoyles which I could swear were looking straight at us.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
My gut was proven right again, as it only took a few seconds after our entry for these stony beasts to come to life, with multiple bursts of mana-radiation accompanying what could only be described as the sounds of cracking concrete.
Soon enough, several large gargoyles made harsh, heavy landings right in front of us. The two closest to us held out their arms, before zapping two stony spears into existence, crossing them in a clear display to stop us from going any further.
“Halt!” A voice commanded from above, as a shadowy figure landed right in front of the two gargoyles blocking our path. The figure’s face was hidden underneath an unnatural shadow casted by his hood, revealing just two trapezoidal lights where his eyes should be. “The healing wing is currently off-limits to visitors. So state your ailment, or leave where you came from.” The voice boomed, echoing throughout the large open space, as all eyes within the room now landed squarely on us.
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(Author’s Note: Hey guys! We see more glimpses of Emma's quality of life getting set up here, and we're now making our way over to the apprentice! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 33 of this story is already out on there!)]