The greatest beer run ever showtimes

Yesterday I updated my drivers through GeForce Experience and ever since then I cannot use internet browsers with my monitor being set to a 240Hz refresh rate. The connection to the display port keeps cutting out; I have to lower the refresh rate to 144Hz to get it working. Games still run fine on 240. Anyone experience something similar? I tried to completely uninstall and reinstall the drivers but it didn't work.

Bitcoin

• dazy_thoughts

‘The Bitcoin Standard’ author becomes economic adviser to El Salvador
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• cookmanager

Saw this and thought a bitcoiner was lost to the FUD
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• daflem

What I look at while I relieve myself every morning
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ethereum

• twigwam

Upgrading Ethereum -- A technical handbook on Ethereum's move to proof of stake and beyond -Edition 0.3: Capella [WIP] by Ben Ξdgington
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• poojaranjan19

ERC-6059: Parent-Governed Nestable NFT
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• CoinControversy

Ethereum Scam Project Desperately Claims Ties to Acclaimed Computer Scientist Nick Szabo
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CryptoCurrency

• 002_timmy

Crypto influencer posts wallet address, tells followers they will get nothing, and has received over 300 ETH as a result
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• Maxx3141

Everything you need to know about Ethereum Gas Fees
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• 002_timmy

Top 10 Monero Wallets and Top 10 Largest Transactions ever on Monero
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btc

• knowbodynows

Custodial wallets become banks
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• EmergentCoding

Sweet! Pool and Property Solutions are accepting Bitcoin Cash
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• Glad_Investigatorr

Withdraw of BCH from Kraken not possible.
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SatoshiStreetBets

• geente

When the next bull market arrives, you all wont know
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• GanjaMan4Twenty

AIHUMANS (aih) Be Like 🔥🤖🔥
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• Rule_8

Priorities
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CryptoMarkets

• cointelegraph1

“Sometimes later this year, we are gonna see another few banks almost by the dust” – Arthur Hayes.
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• cointelegraph1

What mistakes have we learned from the biggest hacks in the space?
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• Solodeji

Lawyer Explains Why He Thinks Judge Torres Won’t Rule on Whether XRP is a Security
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CryptoCurrencies

• reggie_morris

Russia Drops Plans for State-Run Crypto Exchange
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• xavier_mamba

Hong Kong, UAE Central Banks Coordinate on Crypto Regulations
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• rudy_batts

Sam Bankman-Fried Could Have Some Charges Dropped to Honor Extradition
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CoinBase

• Anantasesa

Never had unexplained account restrictions. Knock on wood
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• billcy

My Bank no longer allows coinbase and or crypto
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• AdLast9824

Coinbase will hold your fund hostage Atom stake.
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binance

• AutoModerator

Binance Support Thread
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FantomFoundation

• s618o

Will Fantom's FTM Token Ever Be Able to Compare to ETH Tokenomics-wise?
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• SUPA-Foundation

Join the SUPA Fun Game Night Event with SUPA Foundation - Tomorrow at 9 am UTC!
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solana

• ansi09

Learn More About The v1.14 Upgrade Of The SolanaLabs Validator Client
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• illu1111

Solana's 100x Growth Ambitions Through Small Business and Infrastructure Partnerships
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• snapper303

Solana governance
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cosmosnetwork

• ZoltanAtom

Keplr 2.0 is here!
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• airdrops_one

Between $ATOM $OSMO $JUNO $SCRT & $EVMOS there is ~ $14.7 MILLION worth of staked tokens that are not earning rewards.
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• Learnmegooder

Shill a project to me
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algorand

• semanticweb

Accelerating Real-World Use Cases on the Algorand Blockchain
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• Due-Albatross-2253

How did i miss this?
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• cysec_

Folks Finance: ALGO holders are now able to easily bridge xALGO from Algorand to BNB Chain, giving them access to the yield generated from Algorand governance while maintaining liquidity in another ecosystem
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cardano

• dominatingslash

OUT NOW! #Marlowe is now available on mainnet for early adopters to start testing and providing feedback. It's a safe and intuitive way to create and deploy smart contracts on #Cardano. Let's dive into what makes Marlowe special.
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• sebastiengllmt

Milkomeda releases an asset consolidator to facilitate aggregating cross-chain public sales to a single Cardano asset
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• Cardanians

Marlowe will allow anyone to write a smart contract for Cardano
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Monero

• monerobull

Addressing a Misunderstanding: My Misguided Concerns about the Monero Nodo Project
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• CoUsT

Monero and all other privacy coins are banned in Poland starting from 26 june.
Comments Link

• LifeLemon8117

Monero has been a bad experience. Am I doing it wrong?
Comments Link

NFT

• Edens_Door

Do you like my Moon Men give me a yes or no thank you
Comments Link

• quuboi

NeoPulp Chronicles│Open Edition on Objkt - Unique NeoPulps + OE Editions│First 8 pieces minted │Link in comments
Comments Link

• misfitts_x

Bodtz Moru Concept Art - @misfittsx
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Throw away account because I dont want some people knowing how depressed I am. After turning 28 a few months ago, Its dawned on me how much i've been working for the past decade, and Im still in the same place when I was 18
For starters, I hate to use the term "wasted", but thats really what it feels like. I still live with my parents, and never moved away for college or anything like that. I have two jobs and a decent savings account because of it, but thats about the only good thing I have going for me. I also have two college degrees, but that really doesn't amount to much these days. I really fell for the whole "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" rhetoric, and I feel like I bet on the wrong horse. Whenever I think I get close to it all coming together, the goalposts move and I stay stuck. I really feel like I waited too long, and lost valuable years that I should have been progressing socially in favor of working extra hard so that (by now) I would have been in a more secure position. lol
This year, I finally gave up on my dream career after years of trying to get into it, so I'm still dealing with that. My backup job turned out the same way, so im on my back up-backup option. I've fallen so far down with my goals I struggle to see the point of even trying. I cant afford to move away, hell I cant even afford an apartment in my hometown unless I live with other people, so i'm stuck living with my parents. My two boomer parents who spend the majority of their day watching fox news indoors and yelling at the tv about conspiracy theories. One of them is on medical disability so i've been more or less strong armed into sticking around to help out. I hate to admit it, but its probably the best compromise I can get right now. Despite the money I do have saved, I've done the math out and I would lose almost all of it just trying to move around and secure a place to fucking rent. That's if I can even find a place, I responded to an add last month and the landlord said "I don't rent to anyone under the age of 45, kid" and hung up on me.
I don't date either, never have a girlfriend still holding me V card because I have no privacy at home. I've talked to them about this and both of parents told me to not treat their home like some motel and bring strangers over, and if I ever wanted privacy to rent an actual motel room somewhere. At the same time, they bring up when im planning on getting married. Don't ask me how that's supposed to work, because I don't know either
I really shouldn't complain, I know people have it way worse than I do and I have the luxury of a semi-stable home,albeit at the cost of everything else. My small circle of friends is in the same position. Most of us live at home, work multiple jobs, and get together once every few weeks to vent to one another. And no, none of them want to move in together, Three of them tried it last summer and it almost caused them to stop being friends, and frankly Id rather keep my friends than anything else right now.
My only plan of action at this point is to keep on this path, keep saving and hope for a this new job that I've been pursuing to come to fruition, so that way I can have the means to finally move out and make up for lost time. However, Ive been doing that for the past 10 years, and the definition of insanity is...well you know. Im looking for any input and advice on the subject, maybe another option I hadnt considered but I feel like Ive run down the list, as well as screaming into the void about how fucked we all are.

I have played BoTW previously but later stopped it because of how fatigued I got at the time from open world exploration (the feeling of irritation one gets when you see an openworld way too big, it signifies an immense chore and OCD of missing stuff basically). Considering how I have heard this game more than makes up for the shortcomings of BoTW and the greatest piece of art ever created from the people who have played it, I was wondering if I should just start ToTK right now? Thank you.

1. Robot Legion: In the oldest myths of the Space Elves, the Robot Legion eliminated all sentient life when the galaxy was young. Their dark deities fed off the agony of a trillion souls. Once the galaxy fell silent, they returned to their crypts in stasis until new races emerged, oblivious to the doom that waited them in due time. And so it continued over and over again. However, during the previous cycle of genocide, the Legion encountered a demonic force of unprecedented size summoned by the younger races of the time. Seeing these ethereal entities as upstarts and rivals, the deities of the Robot Legion undertook a great war against a foe that challenged them for the first time. The demons were beaten back and all artifacts and temples dedicated to them were atomized. This took a heavy toll on the Legion and they lay in hibernation for longer than they ever had before. A spike in demonic activity on Terra caused by the wars amongst the humans awoke the Legion again. Due to the length of hibernation, They found themselves surrounded by races that had grown to be more advanced and powerful than they had ever encountered before. The Legions set out to wake all the other hibernating crypts and carve a path towards Terra to destroy it then the rest of the galaxy as they had done for countless cycles. (old necron inspired since I found them way cooler)
2. Alien Hives (Shapers): Terra’s first encounter with the Shapers happened during a lull in fighting between the Imperial and demonic forces that has swept the planet. The demons had lost ground and optimism was running high that they may be pushed off the planet once and for all. Then came the extra-galactic rift that opened off the coast of the Imperial palace. Gigantic biotitans, eyes glowing with plasmatic energy and whose roars changed the weather to storms of rain and coruscating lightening lumbered out of the ocean. Every imperial titan was summoned to defence and after days of constant fighting, the biotitans were defeated. Unable to close the rift, titans were permanently diverted from the front against the demons to the defence of the palace. Elsewhere across the empire, more rifts opened. Biotitans and swarms poured out and each time they were defeated, they reappered nearby with adaptive modifications, indicating a malevolent intelligence that was watching and reacting. Over time it was discovered that these rifts pointed to a galaxy far away, presumably dominated by beings named the Shapers. Indeed on planets that succumbed to their attacks, final video images showed that local wildlife was left alone and only civilizational centers were destroyed. Perhaps, the Shapers meant to study and incorporate aspects of local lifeforms to further augment their creations. But why here? Of all the galaxies in the near universe, the psychic turmoil of this one had attracted their attention. A galaxy at war was a galaxy weakened. A galaxy weakened was an ideal prey. (Pacific rim inspired)
3. Starhost: The starhost had long ago sunk into a spiritual malaise but unlike the dark cousins of the high elves, they turned inward. Their fleets remained harbored and their monstrous creatures roamed untamed through worlds that became overgrown with vegetation. Their gleaming cities remained closed and isolated from even each other as their inhabitants spent their time in rituals and meditation, hoping to obtain clarity of purpose. Until one day refugees from Terra landed. These were religious refugees, cast out from a Terra that had become dominated by the Imperial forces who enforced their version of materialism which brooked no competing ideology or deity with the State Authority. Rather than be subjugated, many humans drifted in stasis ships, hoping that they may find a freer corner of the galaxy. The head starhost shamans summoned the refugees and through their psychic prowess were able to understand the human language. Listening carefully, they were intrigued by the zeal of the humans but were unsure about allowing them to stay until they noticed an object in one of the childrens hand. A toy shaped like them, which the humans called a “dinosaur.” Their tablets had spoke about seeking their destiny in the stars but it appeared that their destiny had come to them. More talks with the humans yielded remarkable similarities in their beliefs. Signals and messages were sent out to other refugee ships no matter their philosophy or creed and soon the starhost worlds were alight with the presence of thens of thousands of refugees. For the first time in thousands of years, the starhost felt a sense of purpose and a new hybrid civilization was formed. This new force would unite the refugees and take back the worlds of the Terra dictatorship one by one until they finally reach Terra itself.

Above history is a very rough draft. Imperial history of Terra will be elaborated on later. Something like an atheistic version of the Imperium with a scientific spartan version of survival of the fittest leading to people experimenting with demonic entities. Those demons yielded combat success but quickly grew out of control to corrupt vast parts of the Imperium and cause a war between two parts of the imperium, both trying to brutally outcompete each other.

Throw away account because I dont want some people knowing how depressed I am. After turning 28 a few months ago, Its dawned on me how much i've been working for the past decade, and Im still in the same place when I was 18
For starters, I hate to use the term "wasted", but thats really what it feels like. I still live with my parents, and never moved away for college or anything like that. I have two jobs and a decent savings account because of it, but thats about the only good thing I have going for me. I also have two college degrees, but that really doesn't amount to much these days. I really fell for the whole "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" rhetoric, and I feel like I bet on the wrong horse. Whenever I think I get close to it all coming together, the goalposts move and I stay stuck. I really feel like I waited too long, and lost valuable years that I should have been progressing socially in favor of working extra hard so that (by now) I would have been in a more secure position. lol
This year, I finally gave up on my dream career after years of trying to get into it, so I'm still dealing with that. My backup job turned out the same way, so im on my back up-backup option. I've fallen so far down with my goals I struggle to see the point of even trying. I cant afford to move away, hell I cant even afford an apartment in my hometown unless I live with other people, so i'm stuck living with my parents. My two boomer parents who spend the majority of their day watching fox news indoors and yelling at the tv about conspiracy theories. One of them is on medical disability so i've been more or less strong armed into sticking around to help out. I hate to admit it, but its probably the best compromise I can get right now. Despite the money I do have saved, I've done the math out and I would lose almost all of it just trying to move around and secure a place to fucking rent. That's if I can even find a place, I responded to an add last month and the landlord said "I don't rent to anyone under the age of 45, kid" and hung up on me.
I don't date either, never have a girlfriend still holding me V card because I have no privacy at home. I've talked to them about this and both of parents told me to not treat their home like some motel and bring strangers over, and if I ever wanted privacy to rent an actual motel room somewhere. At the same time, they bring up when im planning on getting married. Don't ask me how that's supposed to work, because I don't know either
I really shouldn't complain, I know people have it way worse than I do and I have the luxury of a semi-stable home,albeit at the cost of everything else. My small circle of friends is in the same position. Most of us live at home, work multiple jobs, and get together once every few weeks to vent to one another. And no, none of them want to move in together, Three of them tried it last summer and it almost caused them to stop being friends, and frankly Id rather keep my friends than anything else right now.
My only plan of action at this point is to keep on this path, keep saving and hope for a this new job that I've been pursuing to come to fruition, so that way I can have the means to finally move out and make up for lost time. However, Ive been doing that for the past 10 years, and the definition of insanity is...well you know. Im looking for any input and advice on the subject, maybe another option I hadnt considered but I feel like Ive run down the list, as well as screaming into the void about how fucked we all are.

The single most important difference between online play and live cash is the opportunity to observe your opponent's body language and behavior throughout the hand, along with the ability to talk to them in order to detect some tell as to the strength or weakness of their holding.
Doug deciding to "randomize" his decision when facing what turned out to be a huge bluff on the river has got to be the silliest thing he has ever done.
Compare how Tom reacted to the same situation and therein is the only lesson that chat pros need to learn from those two playing on HCL's Million Dollar Game.
I'm not saying it's easy to correctly suss out bluffs or make those big folds when one is beat, but it's a distinction that easily defines who are winners and losers in both the short-term and the long run.
Live cash poker transcends the simplistic mathematical approach sold as a quest for unexploitable or perfect play to internet poker junkies.
Robbi Jade Lew was right... to play the man, not the cards.

ADDITIONAL TW: weapons, police, drug use, racial slurs (I’m not using the word)
I (27f) vividly remember one instance where my abuser (37m) and I were in California and he was outside making sure all of our belongings were secure in the car. I was exhausted and coming down from a meth bender, so I went into the hotel we were at and he told me to stay awake to let him into the room when he was finished outside. I tried so hard to stay awake but I couldn’t. I was woken up to banging on the hotel room door, I opened it and my abuser started yelling at me, ran into the room and started looking for the “n-word” I was “cheating” on him with (I wasn’t cheating at all.) he then proceeded hitting me, choking me, then stopped to pull out a hunting knife and start coming at me, retreating, coming at me, retreating. He went into the bathroom and I texted 911 (it works in the US). The police came in full swat team gear and arrested him. At the time I couldn’t leave him b/c I didn’t have any safe place to go, money to get to safety, and I was in a state I wasn’t familiar with enough to be a young female alone. 2 weeks later he was released and when I went to pick him up from jail, the first thing he said to me was “how could you do this to me?” When I told him what he had done to me he denied that ever happened, claimed there was no knife, and tried to convince me that I was in a meth induced psychosis the day that it happened. He even went as far as to say that I was the abusive one and that I was beating him up.
I am now 1 year away from my abuser but it still runs through my mind.

be me; ex LizarDM
be also me; Adonis Valintellis (Tiefling Paladin), Thalia Milakos (Human Ranger) and Zaahir Kehmet (Earth Genasi Wizard)
turning the corner at speed, Zaahir ploughed into a market stall, throwing an array of fruits and nuts into the air as he struck
pain shot through his hip and back, but before the merchant could even raise their voice, Zaahir was up and running again, tossing a few loose coins over his shoulder in the process
left, right, then left again
he tore through the streets like a man possessed, pumping his arms and legs as he sprinted
his lungs burned and his heart pounded, but he knew he couldn't stop
if he stopped, they'd catch him. And he'd have to start all over again
the amulet he’d stolen slapped against his chest, burrowing a hole into his ribs with each strike
he’d tried to toss it before, get rid of it and all that followed
but no sooner would he try, the amulet would appear back on his person, as if he’d never attempted in the first place
and then there was the old man
that decrepit figure that clung to his mind like a tick. A relentless presence that refused to leave
Zaahir didn’t recognise him. There was very little he recognised
he was in Syracae, that much was certain
but the identity of the old man. The amulet around his neck. The reason he was here in the first place
he knew none of it
it was like a dream. The more he tried to remember, the more he forgot
Zaahir stopped at a corner, gasping for breath as his heart thundered against his rib cage
he had tried to take a different path. Tried to change the outcome
but he recognised these streets. These buildings
in spite of all he had done, he was in the lower agora again
it was as if the world itself were reshaping to fit a certain narrative
a narrative that he was forced to act in, even if he didn’t know the script
he observed the slope of the street, noting the downward decline to his right
muttering a foreign curse under his breath, he turned to the left, and began running
the upward slope burned his quads, but even as he ran, he could feel the world changing
the burn in his quads shifted to his calves, and now he was moving downhill
he stopped in place and turned, glancing in either direction
no matter which way he looked, the road always seemed to move downward
down to the lower agora
he was reflecting on this reality bending phenomenon when he became aware of the subtle changes in the wind
the air around him became hotter, and with it came the distinct odours of a foreign land
sand, salt, myrrh and oil of balanos and cedar
the shadows began to bend, and Zaahir felt the prickle of hairs on his neck begin to rise
a figure appeared at the end of the street, towering and gaunt
he had just the time to make out a bestial head, like that of a jackal, before he took off running
the world shifted around him once more, bending to fit the narrative in which he had no say
and Zaahir continued to play his part, ever the unwilling actor in a story he did not recognise

the rain cascaded down like a flood, running off the makeshift tarp and pooling at the adventurer’s feet
Thalia led the way, scanning what little area she could make out amidst the rain and gloom
behind her, Adonis held up his shield, bearing the weight of their meagre shelter without complaint
5 kilometres was not far to travel. In ideal conditions, the pair could cover that distance within under 45 minutes
but these were not ideal conditions, and their shambling gait slowed their progress to a crawl
peering through the storm, Thalia made out a silhouette in the near distance; pale against the darkened surroundings
beckoning Adonis to follow, Thalia led the way over, guiding the pair in an uncoordinated shuffle towards the figure
the rain parted and the silhouette manifested into the body of a woman, her head lowered as if in grief
dark hair clung to her face like a curtain, the clothes on her back soaked to the bone
Thalia gave a defeated sigh, already steering them away
this woman was the most recent in a long line of unfamiliar faces; giving the ranger just enough hope to cling onto, but not enough to keep the growing dread at bay
try as she might to ignore it, the ever shrinking thread on her wrist served as a terrible reminder of their fading chances of escape
by now, the thread had shrunk to 3 inches. A quarter of what they’d started with
even if they found Zaahir at this very moment, they wouldn’t have the time to escape the Underworld before their entrance closed
observing his partner’s fading willpower, Adonis rested a spare hand on her shoulder, and raised his voice to be heard over the downpour
“shall we try out the spell again? See what we can muster?”
Thalia slowed in her advance and gave a half hearted nod; unconvinced of their chances
the pair came to a stop, and Adonis stepped closer so as to bring them both beneath the full protection of his shield
safe from any wayward droplets of rain, Thalia closed her eyes and began to focus, calling on the ever shrinking well of magical power within her
imitating Zaahir’s spell had proven more difficult than expected
on top of the immense pressure and unforgiving environment; Zaahir’s style of magic couldn’t be further removed from her own
a strict academic approach to the arcane, his magic was brought about through years of careful study and hundreds of hours locked within a dusty library
her own approach was far less refined
to her, magic was less a thing to be studied and manipulated, and more a force to be reasoned with
a wild creature, that if you weren’t careful in your handling of, could just as easily harm you as the target you intended
wielding magic required both patience and care
two attributes that she found herself lacking as of late
drawing on the magic within her, she began to cast the spell, honing in on Zaahir’s unique life force
her perception expanded out like an aura, alerting her to the presence of several souls within the vicinity, each shining with its own distinct light
if she focused, she could begin to make out details. What they were wearing. What they looked like
but before she could begin to search for Zaahir, Thalia was met with an all too familiar resistance
an interference that hovered in the air, blurring her magical sight until each soul was indistinguishable from the next
letting loose a cry of frustration, Thalia released the spell, and her senses returned to her body
“I still can’t do it,” she meekly explained. “I always feel like I’m so close to getting it, but no matter what I do or how hard I try, I can’t make him out in all of... this-”
she waved her hands about frantically, gesturing to everything and nothing at all
giving a weary sigh in response, Adonis squeezed the young woman’s shoulder reassuringly
“it’s not your fault. With the rains and their effects, there may be too much magical energy floating around. It’s no wonder you can’t lock on”
“so what are we supposed to do? Keep walking and hope we stumble across him?”
Thalia pulled away from the paladin’s grasp and turned to meet his gaze, her once brown eyes now a steely grey
“I’m out of my depth here, Adonis. I know I’m meant to stay strong and be brave, but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep pretending that I’m not scared out of my mind”
“a demon almost killed me earlier and we've barely had a moment to stop and think. A few hours before that, you pulled me out of a flaming river of hell, and now, we’re standing on Chaon’s front lawn trying to steal one of his garden ornaments. Everything is moving so fast, and yet, I know we’re not moving fast enough”
she glared up at him, her body taut with anger and frustration
but after only a few moments, all of the strength in her body seemed to fade away, taking the anger along with it
her shoulders slumped, and now she looked up at him with tired eyes, searching his face for any hint of the guidance or wisdom she’d learned to rely on so heavily
“I just need to hear you say that you have a plan. That when all of this is over and done, that things are going to be okay. Because I can’t see the big picture anymore”
Adonis met the young woman’s gaze; her once bright, hopeful eyes now dull and so full of defeat
her will was hanging on by a thread
one wrong word, and that thread would snap
Adonis’ lips curled into a sad, tired smile, and his hand lifted to cradle her cheek
it was cold against his fingers, the last remnants of heat in her body having been stripped away by the rains
he held her for a moment, his mind working overtime to think of the right words. The inspiring phrases. The rousing speeches
but as he looked into her eyes, he knew that they weren’t what she needed right now
“when I first met you on that boat, I saw a scared, frightened young woman, taking her first steps into the wider world. A farmer’s daughter, trying her lot as an adventurer. You were clinging to Namira so tight, I was afraid you’d blow over if you let go for even a moment”
Thalia stared up at him, not saying a word in response
Adonis took that as his sign to continue
“you looked at the world like every little thing in it was a terrible threat. Every wave on the sea, every cloud in the sky. Even an old fool like me. You seemed so sure that the world was out to get you. And that first night, when the harpies came swooping in, I was sure you’d run. Take shelter or hide below deck”
his eyes glazed over as he spoke, as if he weren’t looking at the woman in front of him, but somewhere else. Somewhere far away from here
“imagine my surprise when instead, this frightened, shaking twig of a girl steps out onto the bow of the ship, and begins shooting these harpies down one after the other”
he began miming the arrows, an unconscious smile creeping across his face
“and I looked at you, thinking; where did that frightened girl go?. Who is this…doppleganger that’s taken her place?. Throughout the fight, I continued to watch; and eventually I figured it out. She wasn’t gone. Even then, as she took down harpy after harpy, I could see that she was still afraid”
his eyes focused on Thalia’s face, and the smile faded to a warm, proud expression
“and I knew from that very moment; That’s someone I want at my side. That girl is going to become a hero. Not because you weren’t frightened. But because you were. And you fought anyway”
he gave her shoulder a squeeze and gestured to the terrible rains around them
“now I’ll agree, things look dire. When I look forward, the big picture can be hard to see. But I look at the little picture, and I see what we’ve overcome to get here. No, we haven’t found Zaahir yet. But we know he’s in here, and every step we take, is a step closer to finding him”
Adonis rose to his full height, holding the shield high above his shoulders
“now, I’m ready to keep looking. No matter how long it takes. Are you ready?”
in spite of herself, a smile touched Thalia’s lips, and she felt a warm tear run down her cheek
“yeah”
stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around Adonis’ midsection, holding him tight as the rain pelted down around them
“thank you”
Adonis smiled down at her, feeling the corners of his eyes begin to well up in tears
he wiped them away with a finger, and Thalia pulled away, steadying herself with a long, shaky exhale
the paladin raised an eyebrow, giving her a wry grin
“so how about it. Want to give that spell one more shot?”
a nervous laugh escaped Thalia’s lips before she steeled her nerves and nodded
“yeah. I think so”
Adonis gestured for her to go ahead and Thalia took a deep breath in, closing her eyes as she let the world go quiet around her
when the rain had all but faded away, she dipped into the well of magic and felt the familiar buzz of energy that awaited
she tapped into it, feeling the energy race up her spine and cause her fingertips to tingle and her tongue to go numb
when the buzzing had settled, she began to reach out into the void, expanding her senses to the souls around her
the air hummed with arcane interference, the magic of the Fields hovering all around her
they blurred the essences around her, causing the individual souls to meld together into an incomprehensible soup
Thalia prepared to let the magic go, and then a thought entered her mind
don’t look at the big picture
just before the spell faded from her control, Thalia recalled it, coercing the magic back under her command
this time, when she cast her senses into the void, she didn’t focus on the souls, letting them drift to the peripherals of her vision
she needed something smaller. Something only Zaahir would have
a unique item?
no
any items he possessed would have remained with his physical body
her brow furrowed in concentration, her mind conjuring up an image of her friend
it was blurry and imperfect, but she held it all the same, inspecting him in her mind’s eye
after a moment of careful observation, she was struck by a glaringly obvious feature
the gold in his skin
having been around the mage for so long, she’d almost forgotten how unique his appearance truly was
she nodded to herself, preparing to redirect the spell to seek out the nearest source of gold
but just before the spell could leave her fingertips, a sudden thought entered her mind
Adonis still had his coin purse
what were the chances that he didn’t have a single gold coin on him?
she supposed that she could throw his purse into the bottomless bag, but the thought had scarcely passed her mind before she dismissed it
she didn’t understand how the bag worked, and it wasn’t worth risking the few scraps of magic she had left on a hunch
giving a disappointed sigh, Thalia went back to brainstorming
what was unique to Zaahir?
what did he have, that no one else would?
she thought for several seconds, working over her mental image again and again, searching for something to focus on
her eyes passed over his body, his unique appearance and foreign clothes
his clothes
Zaahir had several sets of clothes. They all did
but the ones he wore that day were distinctly Khoprisi in design
“do Melanteans go to the Isle?” she blurted, her mind racing
“what?”
Adonis’ voice reached her ears, but it sounded far away, as if she were hearing it through a thick wall
“Melanteans. What happens to their souls if they’re evil?”
she fought to maintain the spell, balancing her attention between it and Adonis’ response
“I don’t entirely recall. Melantean faith wasn’t my area of study”
uttering a curse under her breath, Thalia reigned in her intrusive thoughts, and recontained the spell that had begun to slip under her absence of concentration
without Adonis’ confirmation, she’d be taking an immense risk
but what else was she supposed to do?
resigning herself to the possibility of failure, Thalia cast the spell, refining her search to Khoprisi made clothes
her field of awareness expanded, passing over soul after soul
it grew wider and wider, with no hint of pause or recognition
and just as she was beginning to give up hope, the spell locked onto an object, and Thalia’s heart rose into her throat
not 300 metres away, right on the edge of her vision, was a layered cloth robe, cut from dyed Khoprisi linen
Thalia’s eyes shot open, and she turned to Adonis with a wide smile
“you found him?” Adonis asked, his eyes brightening with hope
“I found someone. I can’t make promises, but…”
in spite of her efforts to curb her enthusiasm, Thalia practically radiated a sense of renewed hope
his own reserved smile widening to a grin, Adonis gestured with his arm
“lead the way then”
giving an energetic nod, Thalia raised their cloth shelter and began to shuffle in the direction of the skirt, fighting every urge to not go running off into the rain spattered fields
it would be a rather pitiful end to wind up trapping themselves right before they found their friend
and so, forced to move at a crawling pace, Thalia led the way, projecting her thoughts out as if they might reach Zaahir somewhere within these Fields
hold on just a little bit longer. We’re on our way

Zaahir collapsed against the brick wall, gasping for air in between bouts of dry retching
his vision swam before his eyes, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he feared it would give out
not that it would matter
were he to die, he’d merely wind up right where he started, and be forced to relive this all over again
fighting to regain his breath and recompose himself, Zaahir closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool brick wall
but where his brow should have touched hard brick, he instead felt the smooth texture of polished cedar wood
opening his eyes, he let out a long, exasperated groan; recognising an all too familiar door
even without this bizarre realm of scripted encounters and indefinite loops, he would have recognised Alekos’ storefront in a heartbeat
yet again, in spite of his best efforts, the world had reshaped itself to fit a certain narrative
a narrative where, after evading the local guards, he wound up at Alekos’ door, seeking to trade away his stolen goods
Zaahir contemplated walking away, as little as that would achieve, but the changing winds and the rising scent of sand and oils quickly dissuaded him
before he could change his mind, the Khoprisi mage flung the door open and darted inside, slamming it shut behind him
the winds died in an instant, and Zaahir was left to stew in the brief serenity of silence for a few grateful seconds
but only a few
for that silence was quickly broken by a voice that had begun to grate on him like no other
“Syphaeus? Archons above, is that you?”
rolling his eyes to the heavens, Zaahir turned to face the diminutive figure of Alekos, glaring down at him with an expression of pure contempt
“oh but it is!” the halfling cried, outstretching his arms to embrace the gold encrusted genasi
Zaahir brushed him off, keeping the deceitful shopkeeper at an arm’s length
Alekos retreated a step or two, raising his hands in apology. “Not a hugger, got it”
slipping into a smile as easily as one might slip into a pair of new sandals, Alekos recovered swiftly. “So, what brings you out this way? What can I do for you?”
knowing that the conversation would go by quicker if he complied, Zaahir slung the amulet off his neck and tossed it into the halfling’s hands
Alekos caught the amulet, and after a moment of inspection, his eyes widened in surprise
“where in Chaon did you get this?”
Zaahir didn’t answer, instead taking the opportunity to browse the wares around him
an enchanted spear, a pair of gnarled wands, a set of bracers
he wondered what poor souls had to die in order for these items to appear on display
behind him, Alekos continued the conversation, responding as if Zaahir had answered him
“I see. No need to worry. I’m no stranger to the odd spot of mischief. Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered, I always say. I take it you won’t be wanting receipts for this then”
he placed the amulet on the counter, then turned back to face Zaahir, watching the genasi with a gaze that felt almost predatory
a flash of light on the mage’s hand caught the halfling’s eye, and his expression lit up as he noticed it
“my, my. Well isn’t that a pretty thing on your finger”
Zaahir unconsciously glanced down at his hand, spying the cold metal ring adorning his middle fingertip
a band of polished silver, the ring was capped with an unknown symbol. Perhaps the signet of some noble family or another
pretty, but in the way that a viper was pretty
and Zaahir knew all too well the danger that lurked beneath its unassuming exterior
“enchanted no doubt. What sort of magic does it hold?”
once again, Zaahir said nothing, but Alekos flinched as if he’d been struck
“of course not, no,” the halfling said with a chuckle, that easy smile slipping back onto his lips. “Besides, I wouldn’t have the money if I did. As it stands, I doubt I even have the gold for this amulet. How much are you looking for?”
Alekos paused, nodding in response to some unspoken phrase
“well that’s awfully vague. Ships to Thessylae are cheap this time of year. You could buy yourself passage and a couple month’s lodging. Start a new life”
Zaahir had stopped listening by now, returning to browsing the store’s various wares
Alekos’ voice faded into the background, and Zaahir entertained himself by inspecting the goods on display
he was inspecting a spool of golden thread when a soft whisper brushed past his ear
quiet and practically incomprehensible, he might’ve mistaken it for wind
but then it came again; louder, and clearer
Zaahir
the genasi turned on the spot, scanning the room with wide eyes
but it was just as he had left it
Alekos continued to speak, acting as if nothing had happened
“I tracked them to a cave a couple days from here, just off the eastern road. I was about to commission the Guild, but now…”
Zaahir. Can you hear us?
the whisper came again. Undeniable this time
ignoring Alekos’ words, Zaahir honed in on the whisper, spinning in place as he searched for its source
we’re here. We’re finally here. Please, Zaahir
the voice was soft and feminine, and more than anything, incredibly familiar
he tried to remember. Tried to put a face to the voice. A name even
but just like everything else, it was like recalling a dream
wake up. We came all this way...please, Zaahir...just wake up
they sounded pleading. Desperate
in spite of the fog surrounding his mind, his heart began to ache for this woman
he was hurting her. He didn’t know how or why, but he was hurting her
Alekos had fallen silent now, and as Zaahir continued searching for that voice, he began to hear something else
something completely foreign to this world he’d found himself within
rain
the warmth of the shop drained away, and a cold chill swept in to take its place
his clothes, once dry, now clung to his body like rags, soaked through with water
the store seemed to fall apart around him; breaking away into tiny fragmented pieces
a different voice came now. Older and deeper
booming from above like a terrible god
ZAAHIR. WAKE UP!
and with a heaving gasp for air, Zaahir was dragged screaming out of his crumbling world
rain pelted down around him like a storm, falling to the earth with droplets as thick as oil
the ground beneath him was made of a dead, black soil that resembled charcoal more than dirt, stretching out as far as he could see
he became aware of a presence above him, right before he felt a pair of crushing arms tighten around his ribs and squeeze the life from him
the air fled his lungs so violently that his vision began to cloud and darken
right before he thought he’d pass out, the arms abruptly let go, allowing him to breathe once more
when his sight finally recovered, he began to make out a face in front of him
pale and grey eyed, the figure appeared almost corpse-like in complexion. But beneath the ghastly visage, Zaahir recognised the familiar face of Thalia staring back at him, tears streaming down her cheeks in spite of the beaming smile across her face
he hardly had a moment to comprehend what he was looking at when Thalia pulled him into a second, even tighter hug
this time, he felt for sure that his ribs would crack beneath the pressure, and when he was finally released, he was light headed and woozy
“not too hard,” a voice warned, “you don’t want to kill him, do you?”
Zaahir groggily turned to follow the voice, and found himself staring up at the towering, horned figure of Adonis, beaming down at him with a wide grin
“wouldn’t want to have to go through this all the trouble finding him again, now would we?”
Adonis extended a hand, and lost in a state of foggy confusion, Zaahir blankly stared at it for a few seconds before thinking to take it
with a great, heaving motion, Adonis hoisted the genasi to his feet, and pulled him into a crushing, one armed embrace
“it’s good to have you back”
a smile spread across Zaahir’s lips, but it was a tired, thin lipped attempt
his legs felt unsteady beneath him, as if they might collapse at any moment
in fact, had it not been for Adonis holding him up, he feared he might do just that
feeling the limpness in his friend’s body, Adonis slung an arm beneath Zaahir’s own, bearing the young man’s weight onto his shoulders
“easy now, I’ve got you”
the paladin turned his head to look at Thalia, meeting her concerned gaze with a stern expression
“start leading the way out of here. We need to get him out of the rain”
with a task to distract her from Zaahir’s poor condition, Thalia set to leading them out, choosing a direction and marching away in a slow, shuffling gait
Adonis followed closely behind, holding Zaahir close so as to keep him beneath the protection of his shield
the genasi slumped against his arm, unable to bear his own weight, mind still reeling from the effects of the spell
Adonis stared down at his younger companion, curbing his relief with a heavy dose of concern
he hid it behind a smile, taking one tentative step, and then another
“come on, then. It’s high time we got you out of this place”

First Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/x8zwpv/athos_1_a_new_world_of_opportunity/
Last Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/13duv0v/athos_21_broken_bones_and_fractured_hearts/
Next Post:

Hello reddit.
I come here out of desperation. Something has happened to me today that I can still not comprehend. As I'm typing this, my hands are still shaking and my heart still pounds like never before. My mind is still trying to process the events that happened earlier this morning and I can not tell if what I've saw and felt was real or not. My only resort was to tell this story to someone and I believe you guys can help me out. One thing that I would like to settle is that English is not my first language and I'm pretty nervous typing this, so forgive me for any mistakes I make. Without any further ado, let's start.
First, I believe some context is essential.
I'm a college student from southern Brazil currently, studying medicine hoping for one day to become a doctor. My itinerary is complex and ever-changing, so I usually arrive early at my college and leave late at night. As for such, I usually have a car to transport myself. I still live with my parents and the car in specific is not mine, but rather my mom's. My mom worked for many years for delivery services, and so used this car for her job. After I entered college, she let me borrow this car in order to better transport myself from home to there and vice-versa. Currently, she uses her own car for work, however sometimes she still needs her work car (the car I'm using) for a variety of reasons, either it being because her car is being tuned-up or broke down, etc etc. Sincerely, I don't mind that, her work car is already a bonus for me, so if she needs it, she can have it whenever she needs.
On this oportunate situations, I go to college through different means, usually by my friends giving me a ride or by calling transportations services such as Uber or conventional taxis. This morning was no different.
Last night, my mom let me know in advance that she would be needing her work car today. At first, nothing unusual, I will just book a cab or call an Uber and everything will go as it normally goes.
I woke up this morning at 5:50 AM. My classes start at 07:40 AM, however, since I wouldn't be having my car today, I woke up earlier than usual to guarantee I wouldn't be late. I would be on the responsability of another person after all.
I got up, had breakfast, dressed up, got my bag and stepped out of the house no later than 06:30. It is currently winter in Brazil at this time of the year, and since it rains frequently in my town, the day is usually dark. The sun rises around 7 AM, and the sky is usually heavily clouded, so it's normal for this time to still look like night-time and from 8 am to 6 pm for the day to look darker than the rest of the year.
So here I was, on the sidewalk in front of my house in the usual darkness of the morning. I took out my phone and wondered what method I should use today. First, I intended in calling two of my friends whom also go to college with me, however it was early and they were probably still asleep at the time. I then decided to call for an Uber, but my mobile data isn't the best and calling an Uber would've taken an eternity. The only thing working properly was my phone's signal, which I could use to call a cab. And that's what I did. Now, I look back and realize I should've never done that.
The call was nothing out of the ordinary. I called in a cab from a local taxi company, gave my address and waited patiently. It was not like if I have never done that before. 5 minutes went by, then 10, 20, and I started to worry if the company had really dispatched someone to pick me up, and that's when I saw what I was looking for.
Turning on a street corner, came a regular white cab tagged "Taxi" on the roof of the car and the company's name tagged on the corner of the windshield. A swarm of relief hit me and I signalized for the driver that I was the one who called. The cab slowed down and eventually came to a stop next to where I was, I opened the back seat door and placed my bag behind the front passenger seat, to which I closed the door and entered and sat on the front passanger seat, next to the driver.
As I sat down and closed the door, I told the driver that I've placed my stuff on the back of the seat I was sitting on and I was about to tell them where I was headed to... And what I've saw made me stop speaking mid-sentence.
The driver was a short young woman, probably between 30 and 35, with a short hair, colored mixed between a blonde and whitish color and, in normal conditions, I would have considered her relatively pretty if it was not for what made my blood freeze almost instantly. The woman driving the car had bulged, soulless, never-blinking eyes fixated on the road. The woman had her head slightly tilted up, looking down with those mysterious yet horrendous eyes to the road. You know when you are going downstairs but don't tilt your head down to look where you are going but instead use only your eyes with your head still heading front? That's exactly how she was, but her head was tilted upwards and her bulged big eyes looking down in order to see the road. Look, I'm studying medicine and I've already seen patients with exophthalmos, a clinical condition where patients have their eyes bulged anteriorly by an anormality in their thyroid gland, but this... This was different. Those eyes were not normal, they were big and kept starring at the road motionless, soulless with what felt like no emotion at all.
I stopped speaking and froze as soon as I saw her. The woman did not answer. Hell, she did not even look at me or even seemed to notice I've entered the car... She just kept starring at the road with her head tilted up. Those seconds of silence felt like minutes, I could feel every hair on my body standing up and my heart starting to pounce like a festival drum. My only desire was to scream and run from that woman, the atmosphere she passed was so uncomfortable that I can't even descrive the feeling.
For some stupid moral principle, I tried to shrug it off and tell myself it was all in my head. Perhaps that woman had a medical condition that I did not know and I was afraid of nothing at all. With that thought and a lot of internal strengh, I managed to continue the phrase where I left off and gave the address to my college. The woman again did not respond, just kept her motionless stare at the road.
After around 10 seconds or so, that woman started driving away and making our way to my college. I'm usually a very sociable person and I love to talk to new people, but this situation did not make me wake that feeling. That woman was so weird, so unnatural, almost like she was not meant to be here, and yet she was. The only movements the girl made were to shift gears, accelerate, break, just the essential to move the car. She did not look both sides when crossing intersections, did not look at traffic lights, she did not even change her sitting position, and yet managed to drive like she was doing all of those things, she never cut anyone's front, did not run over red lights, almost like an AI drives, but this girl looked like flesh and organic, she definetly was NOT an AI. Most of the ride I felt uncomfortable, ocasionally looking at her still trying to process what I was seeing, and I swear in God's name she did not blink not even once during the whole ride.
After around 10 minutes of disturing silence, we finally made it to my college. I said one very embarassed and out-of-place "thank-you" to her and asked how much it was, and of course she did not answer, just kept that static position she mantained throught the entirety of our time. I took out my wallet and grabbed a considerate amount of money; much more than any other cab service would have asked for a service such as this, however I did not want to take my chances with whatever this girl was. I said how much I was paying and that I would be placing it in the cup-holder between the seats, and just stepped out of the car as fast as I could. I did not expect nor wanted any change, I just wanted to get out of that car and go on with my routine and maybe forget that whole incident. While I was stepping out of the cab, I told her, even without knowing if she was listening or not, that I would just grab my bag on the backseat and leave, to which of course no response. I shrugged it off and opened the backseat door to grab my stuff.
When I opened, I saw that my bag rolled over to the opposite side from where I was standing on the way, which meant that I would have to reach all the way down on the floor on the car inside to grab the bag handle in order to take it out. I really REALLY did not want to spend any more time inside with that woman than necessary, but I still needed my material. With one fast prayer to all the gods I knew, I semi-crawled on the backseat in order to grab my bag handle and just get out of there as soon as possible, and that's when it hit me.
Out of a sudden, a wave of panic descended upon me. My fight-or-flight response activated, my blood rushed, my heart pounced like never before, I felt a sheer wave of an iced-like cold sensation spike through my organs, the fear in me grew exponentially to such a point that the only thing that seemed rational was to scream for help and run for my life. Never have I ever experienced such fear in my entire life. Frozen by the fear and shaking like a newborn chihuahua, I slowly and painfully raised my head to look at what was making me feel that way, and I saw... her.
The woman, or whatever the hell that was, for the first time, moved. I don't know when or how I did not notice it but when I lifted my head to see her, she was still in the driver seat, but starring right at me with those menancing, disturbing, bulged eyes and with the creepiest, scariest, most blood-curdling smile I've ever seen. She was not with her head tilted up anymore, she was starring straight forward at me with those eyes at the center of those giant eyeballs, and toppled with that ear-to-ear smile. That stare without any emotion behind was now changed to a different stare. I'm not sure what she was thinking, but I swear that those eyes now had intentions, she was looking into my very soul with a killer-like instinct that made every cell in my body scream in agony. This was probably the first experience I've had to what it feels like to be stared at by an assassin. It took half a second, but for me it felt like I was starred into for an entire hour, and as my rushing mind was comprehending the danger of the situation, the girl suddently steps on the gas and takes off with the car faster than I could follow, it's still starring at me and not at the road.
I was still inside the car with my bag in hand when she did this and I still don't know how I managed to jump out without hurting myself on the process. That could've gone wrong in so many ways but I managed to stay in one piece and leave the car faster than I ever did. As I saw the cab go, although I could not see her, I could tell clear as day that she was watching me as she drove away.
It took me several minutes to come to myself again. I puked on some plants on the side of the parking lot I was at and pratically dragged myself to my empty classroom. Even though my friends eventually came and my classes started, I couldn't focus. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that woman... That monster that made me fear for my life more than I've ever imagined. I'm now in a bathroom stall, with my phone in hand typing everything I felt, feel and lived. Telling this via a written story is way easier than telling face-to-face without breaking into tears or having a panic attack. Just remembering this incident makes me anxious, nervous, I start to shake the moment I remember that smile.
If someone can tell or explain to me what I lived today, I would be insanely grateful. It doesn't even have to be complex nor make sense, even a simple hypothesis or theory is already enough for me to calm down a little, since my mind is still anesthetized and failing to comprehend anything. I feel like knowing what I've experienced can make me control my emotions and understand better the situation I was in.
Anyhow, I believe that, should I need to go to college through a different mean, next time I will just walk my way there.

For months, a pit had mysteriously appeared in my backyard. At first, I dismissed it as a mere curiosity, an oddity that didn't warrant my attention. But as time passed, an unnerving feeling gnawed at the edges of my mind, beckoning me to explore the unknown depths.
It began innocently enough. Every night, at the stroke of midnight, the pit would materialize, like a silent invitation from the abyss. But I held back, fear and hesitation keeping me at bay. I watched from the safety of my home as the pit grew wider, its dark maw devouring the moonlight.
Curiosity, however, can be an insidious force. As the days turned into weeks, I found myself unable to resist the allure any longer. One fateful night, my resolve weakened, and I decided to venture into the pit's sinister embrace.
With a flashlight in hand, I descended into the unknown. The air grew colder, carrying with it an otherworldly chill that seeped into my bones. The walls of the pit seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with their shadowy presence. The sound of my heartbeat echoed through the silence, a stark reminder of the danger I willingly faced.
Navigating the depths became a nightly ritual. I explored the intricate maze, its pathways twisting and turning with an unsettling predictability. Strange symbols adorned the walls, their meanings elusive and ancient. Whispers danced on the edge of my hearing, voices that seemed to emanate from the very stone itself.
Night after night, I delved further into the pit's enigma. I discovered grotesque chambers, each more nightmarish than the last. The walls dripped with unknown substances, and the air reeked of decay. The pit had become my obsession, its secrets luring me into a realm where reason held no dominion.
To protect myself from the unknown horrors that lurked within, I devised a rule—never stay beyond 2 am. It was a self-imposed curfew, a limit I set to ensure my escape before the pit closed, trapping me in its clutches forever. As long as I adhered to this rule, I believed I could explore the abyss safely.
But rules are meant to be broken, and the pit held a malevolent power that sought to ensnare me indefinitely.
One fateful night, as the clock ticked relentlessly toward 2 am, I found myself in a particularly elaborate chamber. Its walls were adorned with grotesque carvings, each depicting scenes of unimaginable horror. In my fascination, I lost track of time, pushing the boundaries of my self-imposed curfew.
Reality crashed down upon me when I realized the hour had already struck 2 am. Panic surged through my veins, and my heart pounded in my chest. I sprinted through the labyrinthine tunnels, desperately seeking an exit, but the darkness seemed to shift and elongate, mocking my attempts at escape.
I could hear the pit closing, its unforgiving jaws drawing nearer with each passing second. Fear consumed me as I sprinted through the winding passages, my breath ragged, my legs heavy with dread. But the pit's unholy presence had other plans.
In my frantic search, I stumbled and fell. A searing pain radiated from my ankle—a cruel twist of fate that left me incapacitated. I crawled toward the nearest opening, my hands clawing at the ground, but the pit's jaws snapped shut before I could make my escape.
Silence enveloped me as darkness swallowed the chamber, leaving me trapped in the abyss’ clutches.
Desperation clawed at my sanity as I realized the pit's malevolent intent. It wanted me here, trapped within its grasp, forever lost in the depths of the abyss.
Time became a distorted concept, the boundary between day and night blurring into an eternal darkness. The whispers that had once guided me now transformed into haunting echoes, mocking my futile attempts at escape. I screamed into the abyss, my voice drowned in its oppressive silence.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but my existence remained unchanged. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and thirst parched my throat, but there was no sustenance to be found in this desolate realm. I became a mere shadow of my former self, my body wasting away in the relentless grip of the pit.
Madness crept through my mind like ivy, its tendrils entwining my thoughts with delusions and hallucinations. I saw twisted figures lurking in the darkness, their hollow eyes fixed upon me, waiting for my inevitable surrender. Despair clung to me like a second skin, its weight dragging me deeper into the abyss.
But just as my spirit teetered on the precipice of surrender, a glimmer of hope flickered within the darkness. A voice, faint yet distinct, whispered to me, guiding me toward a path of salvation. It spoke of a key hidden within the pit's labyrinth, a key that held the power to unlock the gates of freedom.
Summoning my last vestiges of strength, I embarked on a treacherous journey through the ever-shifting tunnels. Each step was a battle against exhaustion and despair, but the voice urged me onward, promising deliverance from this living nightmare.
Days turned into nights as I retraced my steps, searching for the key that would grant me release. The pit resisted, presenting new challenges and horrors at every turn. But I persevered, my determination fueled by the glimmer of hope that had rekindled within my soul.
Finally, in a chamber bathed in an ethereal glow, I discovered the key. It shimmered with an otherworldly radiance, as if infused with the power to banish darkness itself. Trembling, I held the key in my hand, feeling its warmth spreading through my weary bones.
With a surge of newfound strength, I retraced my steps toward the pit's entrance. The whispers grew louder, their voices now pleading and desperate, but I paid them no heed. Time was running out, and I knew that salvation awaited beyond the pit's closing maw.
As I approached the precipice, the pit's jaws began to close, its hunger growing more insatiable. With a final burst of determination, I leaped forward, the key clasped tightly in my hand. I soared through the air, the pit's darkness fading away as the light of freedom enveloped me.
I landed on solid ground, gasping for air, my heart pounding with triumphant beats. The pit vanished, leaving behind only a barren patch of earth, as if erasing all evidence of its existence. I was free, liberated from the abyss's suffocating grip.
Now, as I recount my harrowing tale, I know that the pit will forever haunt my memories. It was a reminder of the darkest corners of the human psyche, a testament to the strength of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable horrors.
But the pit served as a warning as well—an eternal reminder that some mysteries are better left untouched, that there are depths in this world that should never be explored. And I, the survivor of the pit's clutches, carry the burden of that knowledge, forever changed by the horrors I witnessed in the depths of the abyss.

Please Support this story on nosleep here.
The common consensus on what a curse even is can be ambiguous, so many cultures and ideas reframe and retool to fit the central tenets of their thematic cores. One thing is common amongst all interpretations however, their aim is to cause harm. One might wonder at what point is a curse conceived, not just the rituals and requirements that are needed to conjure a curse. No, what is it that makes up a curse, what feeds it? Some might answer hate or jealousy, and while those might be true for some. For me, the curse I bore and the curses I will bear are made up of one thing. Resentment.
I first noticed its infection one morning while getting dressed for classes. Running my fingers along the slight depression brought out goosebumps. It was slightly tender and if I pressed on it hard it elicited a painful pinch that caused my insides to tangle in panic. Withdrawing my fingers to inspect them I noted a slickness I couldn’t account for. A slight black tint colored my fingertips and I quickly rinsed them under hot water but it did little to wash away the wave of anxiety that had come over me. I tried to push it aside, I had classes, term papers, and tests to worry about. I held out until the middle of my 3rd class, by then all I could think about was the series of horrible and fatal medical implications of the indentation. I ran all the way home, body wracked with shivers, and slammed myself inside my dorm bathroom, stripped off my shirt, and took a good look at it. It had gotten deeper, at least 2 centimeters into my chest now. It was where my sternum was, dead center between my two pectoral muscles. I pushed my finger in and it actually gave some, causing a shudder of agony to blossom and ride through every nerve in my body. I spent the rest of the day researching what I could, some stuff about dietary insufficiencies causing swelling and easily depressed skin, but this was different. The anxiety attacks started then and continued for the next few hours. My roommate walked in during the midst of one and saw my huddled form, trying to breathe. I heard the audible click of his tongue and he left.
3 am neared and I still hadn’t escaped that sinking feeling, the one that feels like an endless plunge towards death, and all the while your lungs struggle to pull enough air to fuel a scream. Drowning in plain sight. I looked desperately through Jake’s things and found a bottle of Benadryl. I washed a couple of them down and waited until my eyelids grew heavy. I was barely able to crawl into bed before I fell into a deep slumber. The dreams it brought were bizarre and vivid. I was wandering through a landscape of abandoned suburbs, going from door to door, looking for one that was the right color. It was late into the night when I finally found it, a dim street lamp casting down an amber spotlight in front of a dilapidated two-story with a red door.
The door opened as I walked up to it, revealing a barren living room lit by a corner lamp that flickered every few seconds. At its center was a cobblestone well, ancient and unnerving. I recognized it. I had seen it countless times. On my worst days, I had dreamt of standing before it, yearning for hope or absolution. I had been silent instead, letting all I could not say seep into it. This inverted well, one that fed on despair instead of dreams, was now vibrating, shifting. Something was rising from its depths to greet me and I was ready for it, yearned for it. Black fluid erupted from its opening, spraying the ceiling and walls and splattering across my face.
Somewhere, a scream was reaching a fever pitch. I looked down and saw that my chest had split open and the black fluid was streaming down in a cascade of pitch. An eye blossomed from the depths of that gaping ravine in my chest. It stared, focused, and recognition flooded into the empty white. From the hole in my chest, something was rising - a realization. The screaming… it had been me the whole time.
I jolted awake, the pain in my chest the first thing to greet me. I heaved to suck in a breath and my senses came alive. Next was the sweat-slick coat that had pooled around me and I turned over to flip on a lamp. Light flooded my vision, but still, I was surrounded by darkness. No, not darkness, but stains. Black ink had seemingly spurted from my chest and splattered my bedding and floor. I ran my finger through it, all along my sternum, but I could not find the indentation, nor a source for the fluid.
I got up in a panic, looking around the room. I was alone, my roommate never having returned, but there was a trail of black ooze. I followed the most prominent streak to a corner. There was a lump there, a polished shiny black orb where the oily ooze seemingly seeped from. My heart thundered as I approached it, I swore I thought I saw it twitch. I was in the middle of my hands and knees crawling towards it when it jerked, moved, and stood.
I fell back on my ass letting out a half yelp, frozen as my gaze locked with it. It was the size of a rabbit, its tar-black skin reflective and polished. It had these beady eyes that were somehow darker than the rest of its body, and it waddled forward on stubby legs no longer than two inches. It had arms too, stubs too, and they reached for me. I was scooting away from its path when it spoke in a pained and squeaky voice as if its anatomy was ill-fitted for human speech, even its grasp of human words was feeble.
“No harm. I’m an ally.”
“What?” I couldn’t help but respond.
“You fed me, so now I repay you?”
“How? In what way? What are you?”
It blinked as if contemplating how to answer my barrage of questions. It didn’t have a mouth, but it spoke regardless. There was distance to its voice, so I was certain that it didn’t speak directly to my mind, but then again I didn’t even think that was possible until now.
“I am grown, don’t know from where, or why. I think I could be a tool or weapon. I eat bad feelings, but I was left with no one around to feed me. Then you came and fed me, for a long time. Now I’m finally strong enough to repay.”
“Repay me how?”
“I have fed on the dark of your heart. I know what it desires, I can take the shape of a curse,” it said
“You’re going to curse me? As repayment?”
“No, that’s not what was in your hearts. Yes, you hated yourself, but you hate others more. I can be the curse you cast on them.”
Something clicked in place and made its way closer to my mind, but didn’t bridge the distance entirely. It spoke, knew that I’d ask it how.
“Pick the kind of curse. I can be misfortune, blindness, madness… even death, a killing curse,” it said.
I reached towards it, even as its body distorted and elongated and reshaped into a foot-long, skinny, jagged oily centipede. I froze but it skittered forward, crawled across the back of my hand, and wrapped around my wrist. It tickled my skin, slick but warm. Almost uncomfortably so.
“Pick the kind of curse you want me to be, and feed me to whom you want to inflict. It’s easy, but curses burn up in daylight if not attached. You’ll have a few hours past dawn before I turn to ash.”
It fell silent afterward as if slumbering, but I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the corner thinking, watching the black stains left by the living curse dry up and evaporate into nothing. I had to look periodically at the oily centipede wrapped around my wrist to remind myself that I wasn’t dreaming, but all it did was convince me that I had careened off the precipice of sanity into some functional hysteria. I sat there until the sun rose, and like a clockwork mechanism, I got dressed and went to class. I was on autopilot, more depersonalized than I had ever felt before I watched myself go through the motions of my life. It should have been a cry for help, you could see it spelled out clearly as day and no one could have missed it. But they did - or rather, they chose to ignore it, because that was what you were supposed to do with people like me. Dull rage set in and it was what I stewed in as the hours ticked by, a building fury that could have blown but only boiled over and settled into dejected acceptance. I was ready to leave it at that, to let myself fade into a shadow like I had my entire life. To give up and crawl away to some recess, never to be found. But the searing pain of dozens of clawed insect legs digging into my flesh brought back presence of mind “Now. Now! Now! NOW!” a voice chirped. I ran into a storage closet, barred the door, and pulled back the sleeve that hid the living curse.
“What is it, are you about to die?”
“Not die, return. Back to the labyrinth. Pick a curse now, feed me to your enemy, before I disappear and all you’ll be left with is ash.”
“And if I haven’t picked anyone? If I don’t want to hurt anyone?”
“Then let me burn in the light, let me go, never visit my well, never feed me again. Move forward from your life, move away from me, and you’ll be free of me”
It could be that easy to rid myself of this wretched thing. I thought about my day, my life, and the people closest to me. I couldn’t let go, not when they had all walked by ashamed or indifferent, or worst of all, fearful. I had done nothing and they feared me.
“I won’t let it go, I can’t. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I can’t move on from this. I can’t give you up, but I can’t choose someone to suffer you.”
“Then eat me.”
I looked at the wriggling centipede confused, black fluid dripping from its body.
“If you eat me, you inflict the curse upon yourself. Not at full potency, but I’ll live until you’re ready to choose. If you hate enough, if you have the resolve, you can cast a shadow of my curse on all who meet your gaze, but you must hurry, my time… fades.”
“I don’t know what to pick. I don’t want to suffer.”
“Then pick the curse that causes the least pain.”
“Which is? I don’t know, pick for me!”
“I am delirium, now eat me, before it’s too late.”
I didn’t notice any change in the curse, except for the small cracks appearing in its carapace and the fraying of its antenna. I hesitated until a large crack formed across its back; at that moment, I hoisted it up and opened my mouth wide, closing my eyes as I lowered it. It did the rest of the work, jerking free of my grip and slithering down my throat with brute force, trailing that oily substance, I gagged, screamed, tears ran and I choked. But once it was down and settled I was alone in that room, nothing different.
Until I stepped out, and it began. A blurring of the world, where every sound was too sharp and grating, every color too vibrant. My head was swelling with immense pressure as it was filled with hundreds of trivial conversations, all spewing from the mouths of every student and professor in this wing. I couldn’t handle it, so I ran, flinging the doors open to the outside.
Except outside wasn’t outside, no, the doors opened up to a hallway I had been trying to forget all my life, framed with pictures of me and my family. I turned, hoping I could reach the living room so I could leave through the front door but what faced me was another room, one I had forgotten about until now. A barred door, walls burned black, stained with soot and char. A sound jolted me back around, the sound of a belt being unbuckled and fabric hitting the floor. Panic rose within me and I felt like I was in free fall, plummeting from astral orbit, through the earth's crust, and straight into the pits of hell. Except I wasn’t. No, I was in my middle school nurse's office. The scent of floor polish and cheap perfume tickled my nose.
“If it hurts you can stop it anytime, you know? Just change your habits, it’s not that hard,”
Ms. Rena, my middle school nurse, was talking to me. I stared into her eyes, and the world quieted and came into focus. They were green, as beautiful as emeralds. I couldn’t help but stare at them every chance I got. They brought forth feelings within me I had never felt before, an awakening. I blinked and they were burning now, bright green flames that sloughed the flesh from her face and I turned away and screamed. The scream pitched, bent, and distorted into a siren, ascending and descending endlessly. I don’t know how long I was caught in its loop but I couldn’t cling onto a single coherent thought longer than a second, as if my mind had been partitioned half a dozen times and all were battling for the sphere of influence that was my perception.
Then clarity, or an illusion of such. In reality, it was only a fleeting break from the delirium, long enough for me to gather my faculties so that the second dive into madness would hurt just that much more. But time was relative here, stretching out longer than it had any right to. The curse was there, in the hallway of my dorm, no longer a centipede but a tall humanoid thing, seemingly made of old motor oil.
“What’s happening? What did you do to me?!” I pleaded.
“You are suffering the curse of delirium. You chose this, remember?” it said, its voice no longer airy and whistling, like a bird’s. Its speech was no longer jilted and tenuous. Now when it spoke, its voice was deep and full of power.
“You said it would be weaker, subdued.”
“This is subdued, I’m a powerful curse after all.”
“What are you? Where do you come from, I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know, I’m searching for the answer myself. I was malnourished for so long that my mind splintered, I suffered my own madness, and I just know bits and pieces now. I know that in the city of Cradle, the word they call me means ‘Demon Seed’. That’s all I know of my identity.”
“I-I didn’t want this,”
“You’ll grow accustomed to it, with time. Not fully, if you could ignore the delirium it wouldn’t be much of a curse. If it’s too much for you to handle, if the pain is unbearable, you can always make it go away.”
“How?”
“Expel me from your body, feed me to someone else, or let the sun take me.”
I exhaled long and slow, and felt the prickling at the corner of my mind. The madness was near, but all I could feel was anger. At the curse, at myself, at the world. I turned away and faced a world of static and incomprehensible whispers, deafening and all-consuming. I collapsed into myself, held my hands to my ears, and balled into the fetal position. It did little to shut out all that was happening, but it did dull it for a moment until a quiet, throaty keening cut through and pierced my mind directly. I imagined a small undying animal having an army knife stab them at consistent intervals, the pace changing periodically so it could never get used to the pain. And then the violence was reflected onto me except there was no perpetrator. An invisible force sliced into the flesh of my sides, my back, until I was ridden with countless wounds. The pain spurred me to crawl forward on all fours, hoping to escape it but it was endless. I was bleeding so much, black blood, my blood was black. I laughed, then cried, and then crawled forward as the stabbings continued, except now the pain had dulled into an ache that still caused my breath to hitch.
I crawled for what seemed like hours, never getting used to the barrage of thoughts, images, and sounds, all the while the stabbing refused to stop. Even after my body had been shredded to ribbons and I had been bled of all its blood it continued, lazily now, as if the invisible force had grown tired but not enough to cease. Then I hit a wall, flesh, thin, like an amniotic sac, and on impulse I pushed through into it, harder and harder until it started to rip. Somewhere someone was breathing heavily, no more than one, with a rising rhythm and intensity, like a panic attack reaching its peak. I struggled forward, trying to break the damn thing, but it would not give. I was exhausted and so collapsed into it as if sleeping, but time passed and sleep did not come. But the end of the breathing did, once it reached a fever pitch. I shifted, realizing the stabbing had stopped, trying to move but then of all times the amniotic sac burst and I fell into whatever lay beyond it.
I was in my dorm room, a break in the madness. I was free for a moment, act, I had to act. Dawn was starting to peek through the window blinds. I stood up and froze, seeing what the rays of light were cast onto. My roommate Jake lay in his bed, naked. A woman just as naked was wrapped around him, body slick with sweat, its scent perfuming the room. He had seen me suffering, in the midst of a panic attack, left me to cope with it alone, and when I hadn’t returned he took the chance not to look for me or tell anyone, instead using it for his own benefit. Anger coursed through my veins, a fresh injection of hate kicking me into action. I opened my mouth and with my pointer finger and thumb reached in, the curse met me halfway and slid into position. I gripped it and pulled it, hand over hand now as a seemingly endless centipede being expelled from my stomach. I looked at the black segmented body, it writhed and moved in such a way that it reminded me a bit of an umbilical cord, and in a way, it was. A curse was being birthed, having grown stronger after I had housed and fed it with my own being. It was time to cut the cord then, I walked over to the pair as I pulled the last of the length free.
The curse popped out like a cork, sending a spray of black fluid across the couple. Droplets of varying sizes landed and stained the woman’s breasts, most of it pooling in between them at her sternum. I stifled a laugh as that’s where I had first gestated this curse. I looked at Jake, the black spray had stained his face, beard, and clavicle, and a particularly large globule resting upon his lower lip. I shifted my gaze to the wriggling centipede before me. It was at least four feet long now and twice its original width.
I shuddered, clarity flooded over me, and at that moment I realized that sometimes clarity was just perspective. I thought I knew suffering, thought I knew what it meant to shuffle through every day dreading that the next day would be more of the same. But the inescapable madness brought a new understanding to me. I could have changed. At any point in time, I could have ended my ostracization. Sure, it was socially imposed, but it was not an incurable delirium. Follow the rules, conform, and you’ll be mostly fine, you can make the hurt stop anytime you want. So why didn’t I, why can’t I now at this very moment? I knew now that it was because it would be a rejection of self, the world goes on and on about how you should be yourself. That in itself was a virtue lauded and held up as one of the most important facets of existence. But now I know what they really meant was “Operate within the constantly shifting parameters of acceptability - fail to adhere, evolve or predict, and you are a threat.” The true self that others reveled in evaded people like me, instead we had to construct a facade we passed off as real in order to thrive.
But so many didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t. How could they? It was all they knew, how could you discard that which defined them, the filter of their reality? I know what I am now, a worm that slinked through grime and lived in darkness, and when others took me and held me to the light, saying, “See, this is how you should be, and why you should be, it’s for the better of everyone,” it didn’t bring me to enlightenment, but to resentment and hate. I knew what I could do to make them see more than just a freak, a threat, but unconsciously I never took the steps because I knew only what it was to exist within the margins, in a periphery. An exile imposed by all, including myself.
I held the curse higher, feeling grateful that I had survived it, suffered it, and was blessed by its clarity. Light streamed in now as the sun crossed the horizon into a bright morning. The curse was still, despite the lethal light upon it. Let it go and move on, or revel in it? I looked back down at the pair, at Jake. He was an acceptable version of me, softly rebellious. Had thoughts, beliefs, mannerisms, and behaviors that neared the boundaries but never crossed them. Scruffy-faced, soft-eyed, short hair spikey and messy but never disheveled, charming in an irreverent way, unassuming cock but he fucked like a jackhammer obviously. An outsider that wasn’t really an outsider, he never was the great other that haunted dreams and fueled paranoia. I held the curse out in front of them and spoke to it.
“Your choice, Demon Seed. Wither in the sun, or choose one to torment. I don’t care which.”
It was still for a moment before diving into Jake's mouth. Silently, effortlessly, it slipped inside him and was gone. I walked out of the room, legs wobbling a bit, I was riding a high I had never felt before.
Jake was dead by the end of the month, he had been institutionalized until he wasn’t and then he stumbled onto train tracks. Rest is history, no body left to bury. His girlfriend, lover, or whatever the fuck was the one to break the news to me. Thought because I was his roommate I cared or at least should care. It was a few weeks later when I felt that sting and oil-slick fluid in my sternum, Demon Seed, the curse had enjoyed itself.
Twice more I’ve birthed a curse, let it choose its victim, let Demon Seed choose its form. He is the shaky finger of tragedy that strikes without cause or rhyme, deliriously pointed at someone, anyone. And I am the great well of resentment that feeds him. We are the what world needs, a calamity, the great other, something to fear, something to hate. And with each glare and impassioned condemnation, the curse grows stronger within me.
TW

Keep fixing my load order, removing a single mod, seems to work, rerun and rebuild everything, then after only maybe an hour or two playing, I suddenly go back to getting crash on startup and crash on loading a save. This is driving me insane.
Now I'm thinking I simply have more mods than my computer can handle. I run skyrim from my non-solid-state drive. However, I have had no performance issues in game and my script lag was very low.
But once I close the game, it reaches a point where I can no longer ever reload the save and sometimes cannot even run the game.
How can I confirm whether my issues are from simply too much going on for my computer?

Hi all. I have a Tank Louis (quartz, no date) that is around 7 years old. Recently, I have found the watch to stop without notice - not gaining/losing time before - and when I wind the watch forward to the current time, it runs like nothing was ever the problem. This has been happening around one a week for three weeks.
Does anyone have any experience with this? I’ll obviously be sending the watch to get the internals checked.

It's been over a year since the original 100 Great Albums post. Since December 2021, I've listened to 375 Rock albums in total (just for fun, I'm getting paid for this!). Looking back at the original albums, I noticed I have a few with only 1 or 2 listens, whereas now I always try to aim for 3 at the minimum. So as this is a good midpoint (as I plan on stopping at the 20th post), I decided to revisit these certified classic albums and maybe upgrade/downgrade the ratings after more listens. I'll continue to edit grades on other posts if my opinion changes on them later on, but the 100 list got so popular that I feel like it should be left unedited.
Here's the format: Album (year) original grade [orig. Listens] // NEW GRADE {additional listens}

1. Bob Dylan - Freewheelin' Bob Dylan (1963) B+ [2 listens] // A- {1 listen} More time to digest his lyrics only makes it better. Hard Rain, Blowin in the Wind and Masters of War are still the best here. He had the wisdom and poise of a 70+ year old man, as a 22 year old...
   
2. Bob Dylan - Bring It On Home (1965) A- [3 listens] // A+ {2 listens} I can't overemphasize how great side two is of this album is. The songs aren't as musical as side one, so the lyrics are center stage and Bob Dylan ALWAYS captivates your attention. The electric guitar side is even better than I originally thought, but man does the second side has some of his best songwriting.
   
3. The Beatles - Help! (1965) B+ [3 listens] // A- {1 listen} This is the album where I think they started making legit "respectable" music. The early Pop music they made before is nice, but it's not that fulfilling. The variety made this age very well: Hide Your Love Away, Ticket to Ride, Seen a Face, Dizzy Miss Lizzy, Help!, Yesterday. It doesn't help that every album that followed it is considered one of the greatest albums of all time, but at this point, it was head and shoulders their best.
   
4. Beatles - Rubber Soul (1965) A++ [5 listens] // A+ {4 listens} Highway 61 Revisited gets the credit as being the album to kick off the Rock renaissance of the 60s, but imo, the "album arms race" started with this one. Without it, the musical landscape isn't the same as the concept of an entire album of worthy material wouldn't have been as widely adopted. With the praise out of the way... it's pretty one note. A great Folk Rock album, but as it's often compared to other albums (cough Pet Sounds), it doesn't hold a candle to them.
   
5. The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour (1967) B+ [3 listens] // A {3 listens} This is fun, bro. No it's not a legendary album, hell, it's not really a fully formed one as it's really a soundtrack compilation album. But looking at all the songs, they're just fun. Even a half assed Beatles album is still incredible (no I haven't listened to Yellow Submarine, why do you ask?).
   
6. The Doors - Self-Titled (1967) A- [2 listens] // A++ {3 listens} Wow, this is why multiple listens are super important. Many of the songs I thought were "so so" are so much better compared to other Blues Rock I've heard so far. Ray Manzarek is a god on the keys and Jim Morrison is pretty magnificent on every song. It still feels dated, as it's not super complex in it's song structure (like in LA Woman), but every song is great. JUST short of a masterpiece.
   
7. The Who - Tommy (1969) B [1 listen] // D++ {1 listen} I was being generous on the original post, I really didn't like this album. After one more listen, I really hate it. The story is complete nonsense and the music really doesn't make up for it. But that's not why I hate it so much; it's the length. If you're gonna be a late 60's mess, be your flamboyant mess and get in & get out. But it's an overly long, drawn out, bore of an album. It's mind boggling that anyone would prefer this over Quadrophena. Pinball Wizard is a great song tho, but don't tell anyone I said that.
   
8. King Crimson - In The Court of the Crimson King (1969) A- [1 listen] // A {1 listen} listening to Moody Blues' Days of Future Passed made this album a better listen. That jazz prog rock, with a laid back feel instead of completely psychedelic. The rest of the album (outside the intro) was a better listen this time around with better context, as I remember being bored with much of it. Now that I'm familiar with early Prog Rock, this doesn't feel as foreign anymore.
   
9. The Beatles - Let It Be (1970) B+ [3 listens] // A {3 listens} yea, I'm a Beatles stan. Yea, it's probably the weakest Studio Era album. Yea, I enjoy the atmosphere of this album more than the music itself; as a last who-rah of a crumbling friendship that can only be held together by creating music, as that is where the only fun is still found amongst these guys. Do I like to pretend that Don't Let Me Down is apart of this album, so I can grade it higher? Also, yea.
   
10. David Bowie - Hunky Dory (1971) A+ [2 listens] // A {2 listens} this is Art Rock. Not being a glam/hard rock fusion makes it less heavy than its successor. It also suffers for not having multiple strong anthems to hold the entire thing. Changes, Life on Mars, Andy Warhol, Queen Bitch are all great songs, but I doubt any are in Bowie's top 5. The other songs don't hold up as much I remembered.
    
11. Carole King - Tapestry (1971) A- [2 listens] // A {2 listens} Joni Mitchell's Blue was the driving force this time around. That personal folk storytelling, with that lively piano yet cozy, warm atmosphere. With more listens, I don't really love the lyrical composition as I just love the tone of the thing. I can sit next to a warm fire (or on a window sill) and turn this on and relax. I understand what the genre of Soft Rock is going for now.
    
12. David Bowie - the Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (1972) A+ [2 listens] // Masterpiece {3 listens} Probably didn't give this one too much thought when grading it, as I think I just fell in love with a few songs on it and forgot about the rest. Listening to this front to back... it's flawless. I tried to find a song that wasn't good or that was kinda boring, but they're all perfect. I've listened to Ziggy Stardust and Starman COUNTLESS times in the past year, and will randomly get guitar riffs from random songs off this album to pop in my head. Of his 4 albums I've listened to, I still think Low is his best, as the atmosphere of that Side B is unmatched. But this album is what I'd consider objectively perfect, as every song is great. Easy masterpiece, and a great example of why sitting with an album is just as important as giving it a bunch of listens.
    
13. Queen - A Night at the Opera (1975) A- [2 listen] // A {2 listens} Fun stuff. I enjoyed the multiple vocalists being apart of it instead of only Mercury, made it feel like a "stage play" with a revolving cast. I think I might have been a bit to harsh on this one, as most of the album wasn't that memorable, with how amazing Bohemian Rhapsody is. I didn't understand what this album "was" with it's vaudeville style, but now, I see that it's this halfway point between the Hard Rock and the Prog Rock of the 70s, with that theatrical flair to make it standout. Definitely worth checking out.
    
14. Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols (1977) B [2 listens] // A- {2 listens} In 1987, Rolling Stone listed this as the 2nd best album of the last 20 years (since 1967) only after Sgt. Pepper's and man, did that made it easy for me to view this as overrated. I think since listening to more Punk Rock that followed this, I start to see how much better they've done with this compared to others. The guitar playing actually changes throughout the song, Johnny Rotten is actually expressive and feels spontaneous, and the drumming is creative. But the real change in opinion is the guitar playing: the riffs on many of these songs are undeniably awesome, which gives Rotten so much to work on top of. My biggest gripe with Punk Rock is how repetitive some bands can be. Now after more listens to this, I can absolutely NOT say the same can be said about this album. It's varied and expressive; how Punk Rock should be.
    
15. Steely Dan - Aja (1977) A [1 listens] // A+ {1 listen} better than I remember. The jazz rock combo is really good, it really leans into the jazz instead of simply using it as an aesthetic. It's not Prog whatsoever, just jazz with traditional Rock instruments. Honestly, you can barely tell if this would considered Rock at all. You really got to like jazz to love this tho. It has that free flowing feel of that genre, from the instrumentation to the flow of the singer. Great album! I'm assuming Steely Dan is hated by the rock community because of this heavy leaning into jazz. Which is understandable, but that doesn't mean they don't make phenomenal music.
    
16. AC/DC - Highway to Hell (1979) B+ [2 listens] // B {1 listen} They haven't quite moved away from the Blues sound yet. Back in Black is a pure distillation of what Hard Rock should be as a stand alone genre, but they don't quite have that confidence in being that brash yet. Bon Scott does a lot of heavy lifting as Angus Young doesn't have that swagger in his solos yet. A lot of the songs aren't super great, but they at least still carry energy. Highway to Hell is a fantastic song, but the majority is just meddling around in this laid back blues style.
    
17. Dire Straits - Brothers in Arms (1985) B [1 listens] // B- {2 listens} I originally wrote this off as one that I "just didn't get", with how insanely commerically successful it is. Now after listening to their Self-Titled album, it actually becomes even more disappointing as you know how much more they're capable of. There's such a signature style on it and this throws all of it away in exchange of a 80s soft rock sound. Walk of Life and So Far Away are good tunes, due to the guitar hooks; everything else is just shallow.
    
18. Pixies - Doolittle (1989) A- [2 listens] // A+ {2 listens} Now, I view this band on the level of the Beatles or Velvet Underground as one of those influential bands that changed music. At the time, Doolittle was too weird for me, but with much more context from this era, this is just insanely great. Compared to Surfer Rosa, the versatility is on a different level. While it is great and varied, it's not exactly "great" in any one area, so I can see why the bands that were influenced by them are viewed as better, as their stuff would've been more focused in one style instead of all over the place. Great album, legendary band.
    
19. Alice in Chains - Dirt (1992) A [2 listens] // Masterpiece {4 listens} This album is a grower. Every time I listen to it, I like another song from it. The harmonies are God tier, the guitar riffs, God Tier, the choruses, God tier. Layne Staley and Jerry Cantrell... peanut and jelly. I've given out 2 masterpieces to grunge albums (Nevermind and Ten), so what makes this different from those is that Dirt takes its time in developing songs. So many of these songs start slow and somber, and quickly turn aggressive and passionate! Gnarly riffs on one song, than a few minutes later, you're listening to soft vocals behind a rough, tortured voice. Not a bad song on here, hit after hit, I got to say it's a masterpiece.
    
20. Nine Inch Nails - The Downward Spiral (1994) A [3 listens] // A+ {2 listen} the word "gritty" might get thrown around a ton by me, but I still haven't heard such a brutal, harsh sounding album while still having pristine production value. It's nasty and mean. Even in the slow moments, you can feel the pain, anger, or sadness in his voice. Compared to other stuff, it doesn't have that much replay value to it, as it's not exact what one would call "musical". But you got to call it what it is: art.
    
21. Green Day - Dookie (1994) A [2 listens] // A+ {1 listen} It's just good music. Yes, the ceiling isn't as high as it could be, but it's so enjoyable that it is always a fun listen. The album is on point from start to finish, it's one of those "if you like one, you like it all" love it or hate it kind of deals. From Burn Out to When I Come Around is just Pop Punk perfection; the backhalf doesn't hold up compared to the start, but it's all still very good.
    
22. Weezer - Self-Titled "The Blue Album" (1994) A- [1 listen] // A {2 listens} I only gave this one listen and only revisited it after listening to Pinkerton. Isn't not as dismissable as I originally remembered, as I only gave it one listen. It's more POP- punk thank pop-PUNK compared to Dookie, which led me to not care for it as much. And it's pretty good pop, with a punk style to give it some edge, I guess. I still like Pinkerton more than it, but it can definitely stand alone as a good album itself.
    
23. Oasis - Definitely Maybe (1994) A [2 listens] // A+ {2 listens} Liam Gallagher is really good... but Noel Gallagher is the truth, bro. That dude knows how to make a great song. They aren't super complex, but they're all have perfect execution. Mix in that Wall of Sound effect with the guitars, it makes this stand out even more from the overwhelming stacked albums of the 90s. The non-single tracks aren't as strong compared to (What's the Story) Morning Glory?, as that album is damn near perfect imo. Great debut album.
    
24. Radiohead - The Bends (1995) B+ [1 listen] // A {2 listens} If Radiohead didn't make this album, I highly doubt I would've listened to this. Which is a shame, because this is a really good album. On the flip side, being a Radiohead album also did more harm than good, as it gets massively overshadowed. I admittedly did a half assed listen to "get to the famous stuff". Fake Plastic Trees, the Bends, and Black Star are great songs. I've listened to Ok Computer so much that I come to think of it as their official "start" of their sound, when in reality, they set the stage on The Bends of what can be possible down the road. Also, they toured with Alanis Morissette with the album, so extra bonus points!
    
25. Arcade Fire - Funeral (2004) A- [2 listens] // A+ {2 listens} better than I remembered. I definitely thought it was borderline pretentious, with how the song structure is when I originally listened to it. Now, without that stigma, it's not THAT abstract and I've come to admire the creativeness of it. I always love when there's women vocalists, to mix up the sound and so many different instruments add even more to the variety. It always feels like a new listen, with how many things I'll forget to notice and remember again.
    
26. Lcd Soundsystem - Sound of Silver (2007) A- [1 listen] // A {2 listens} The first 4 songs are awesome; Get Innocuous with it's multirhythmic layering is my textbook PERFECT song, a 21st century "Remain in Light" homage. The rest just loses this energy and it's never found again. Compare the first track with the last one and it sounds like two different projects. I know you can call me a hypocrite with how much I love Remain in Light, but at least with that one, it's only the last song and not half of the album. Seriously tho, Get Innocuous is a top 10 song of all time
    
27. Tame Impala - Currents (2016) A- [1 listen] // B+ {1 listen} Didn't expect my feelings to decrease, but compared to Lonerism, this is so mid. The lack of a real "great" song (Rihanna's Same Old Mistakes clears) makes it tough to love. It is consistent though, so it's still a good listen; just not a memberable one.
    

Albums I revisited, but no change in opinion. I feel like with these, I need to explain/defend myself more than I did on the original reviews:

1. Beach Boys - Pet Sounds (1965) A+ [4 listens] // {3 listens} After listening to a good chunk of their discography, I've come to two conclusions on Pet Sounds: 1) This album is truly lightning in the bottle as they NEVER reach it's level of consistency in quality from track to track. 2) Baroque Pop, while groundbreaking, came and went as fast as it arrived, mainly due to how abstract it is compared to its successor, Psychedelic Rock. Beyond that, there are a few skips that are solely due to wild creative mind of Brian Wilson. As a musical genius, dare I say better than Lennon and McCartney, but as a songwriter? Not even close imo. Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt. Pepper's are all great albums, while Pet Sounds can be argued to be their only great album (Wild Honey is also a good listen). I know bringing up the Beatles can be annoying, but the Beatles made great "hit singles" with their song layout, while about only half of the tracks on Pet Sounds are what I'd consider a traditional song. That's probably why I don't think it's so amazing (I kinda feel the same about progressive Rock) as I tend to favor music with a concise structure; even as unoriginal the structure may be.
   
2. Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced? (1967) B+ [1 listen] // {1 listen} I can't get into it. The songwriting isn't there, especially compared to the stuff that would follow it. This is him at his rawest, but it's a reason why Medium Rare is the most commonly cooked steak.
   
3. The Rolling Stones - Let It Bleed (1969) B+ [2 Listens] // {3 listens} Thought I would flip on this album, but surprisingly didn't change at all. I still think Gimme Shelter is the best Rolling Stones song and I still think You Can't Always Get What You Want is still a phenomenal album closer, but everything in between is pretty lackluster (besides Live With Me).
   
4. Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon (1973) A [4 listens] // {1 listen} I do enjoy this album more now I know how other Progressive Rock bands sound like, but not enough to raise it a grade. I enjoy Time and the whole second side much more and the "emptiness" of the genre doesn't bother me as much. But the first half is still a little too abstract for my liking. However, I do see how people can view this as their GOAT album with how groundbreaking it's release was at the time and outside of only other Pink Floyd albums, there's nothing else in this genre that really matches the "entering another world" feel it creates.
   
5. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here (1975) A [2 listens] // {1 listen} Similar thoughts to DSotM, but this one has the more catchy "songs" and partly why I love it more. Welcome to the Machine and Wish You Were Here are fantastic, but overall not enough meat for my liking.
   
6. The Ramones - Self-Titled (1976) B [2 listens] // {2 listens} I decided to give the Godfathers of Punk another try since I surprisingly came over to like the other Godfather, the Sex Pistols. And yeah... still isn't my thing. Way too one note, monotone singing, guitar takes over too much of the sound, etc. There are a few good hooks here and there, but you basically hear the entire song in the first 15 seconds. Everything I hate about Punk, stemmed from this album and made a lazier copy.
   
7. The Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dreams (1993) A+ [2 listens] // {1 listen} apparently the Smashing Pumpkins aren't considered grunge? If that's the case, comparing them to a Noise Rock band like a Sonic Youth or a Faith No More, they don't they don't rock out as much as I'd like. Also, I don't like how a few of these songs sound similar to each other. Today and Hummer of course are all top tier songs, but it's just not as much of a comprehensive project as Mellon Collie. Yea, it's definitely not grunge, as it would be much harder if it was.
   
8. Radiohead - Ok Computer (1997) A++ [2 listens] // {4 listens} Close, but no cigar. The first 3 songs and the last 3 songs are PERFECT, it's the stuff in between that makes it fall just short. The run of Karma Police into Fitter Happier to Electioneering is also a great moment in the album. Honestly, it's just Exit Music being "okay" that really stops it from being considered a masterpiece in my eyes. Still one of the greatest albums of all time, but not perfect in my eyes. This album is my perfect barometer for an A++ grade; it's objectively a perfect, but on the subjective level, there's nothing that makes me "adore" it. I completely understand how anyone thinking an A++ album I graded is a masterpiece, as I have to personally love it that extra step for it to get to that level.
   
9. Radiohead - In Rainbows (2007) A++ [3 listens] // {3 listens A+/A+/A++} Let me end it on a positive review: I didn't really give a thorough listen to it at first, as I don't remember much from it. Over time, my opinion on it dropped as I truly didn't see why people find it so special as they do. Ok Computer easily has the better individual tracks, Kid A is easily the most experimental. After finally revisiting it, maybe because it's a great midway between the two, with a weird electronic-rock-jazz fusion. Feels like there's not a single wasted second; every beat and note is meticulous. It's more chilled and laid back, which threw me off on the repeat listens. The hodgepodge of electronic and experimental sounds, being used in this traditional lofi style instead of being a fast paced one, was the curve that made it hard to love it at first, but now I think that's what makes it unique in its execution. A LOT of these rhythms could have been large and bombastic, and I kinda admire it's restraint in remaining "down in Earth". Also the album cover is noteworthy, where it feels completely spontaneous, never fully knowing what to expect going in. Definitely deserves its high praise
   

Albums I also revisited, but no change in opinion. Don't have too much to add on these, but listed them as my grades are concrete on these compared to the ones I didn't choose to listen to:

1. The Velvet Underground & Niko - Self-Titled "The Banana Album" (1967) A+ // Venus in Furs maybe one of the greatest songs ever composed
   
2. Cream - Disraeli Gears (1967) A+ // It still holds up, so damn awesome
   
3. Bob Dylan - John Wesley Harding (1967) B+ // yeah, he's kinda rambling on this one
   
4. The Stooges - Fun House (1970) A- // it's "the Stooges", possibly their best
   
5. The Rolling Stones - Exile on Main Street (1972) B+ // Nope, still didn't love it, still a mess
   
6. Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (1972) A++ // One I thought wouldn't have held up. I shall never question Sir Elton's greatness again
   
7. The Eagles - Hotel California (1975) B // Great start, gets worst as it goes on
   
8. Patti Smith - Horses (1975) A- // labeling this "Punk Rock" is a nicer way of calling this weird af
   
9. The Clash - London Calling (1979) Masterpiece // Not only is there not a bad song here, but every song is perfect. Not great... PERFECT
   
10. U2 - Joshua Tree (1987) B+ // I can't deny that there are some good songs on here, even if I'll never listen to it again
    
11. The Cure - Disintegration (1989) A // after 375 Rock albums, Plainsong is still the greatest opening track
    
12. U2 - Achtung Baby (1991) A- // you gotta admit Bono is pretty cool on this one
    
13. Nirvana - In Utero (1993) A // love the Bass guitar's tone on this one, rawer contrast to Nevermind. I'm glad I didn't grow up in the 90s, as this will always sound so new and fresh to me :)
    
14. System of a Down - Toxicity (2001) Masterpiece // Similar to Hybrid Theory, if this wasn't labeled as "Nu-metal" (and maybe didn't get so overplayed and copied), even the most pretentious critic couldn't deny how great this is
    
15. Green Day - American Idiot (2004) A+ // Feels almost like a different band, the songs are much more nuisanced in its lyrics and its musical structure. That transition from Holiday to Boulevard still gives me goosebumps, such a great song.
    
16. Arctic Monkeys - Whatever You Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (2006) A++ // a tour guide to the UK nightclubbing/pub scene, way better than it has any right to be honestly
    

Bonus: Ween - 12 Golden Country Greats (1996) A [4 listens B/A-/A-/A] Country is still a somewhat foreign genre for me and I've been kinda bored with the concept of it. But it's Ween, so they've fully earned my trust at this point so I'll give this a try. This style is more or less my biggest indifference with the genre: it's not heavy enough to be impactful as rock, yet not soft enough to be as intimate as Folk. It's in this inbetween grey area where it's just not super captivating for me. With that said, it's rarely has been the "so bad, I can't stand to listen to it" levels of boredom that it has been made out as. That signature tongue-in-cheek humor of Ween is here and it makes the project more enjoyable. With Ween, whether it's supposed to be satirical or serious, the quality of songwriting is always top tier, so it's very easy to take whatever they're doing with my full respect rather than viewing it as just a joke. Japanese Cowboy, Mister Richard Smoker, Powder Blue, Piss Up a Rope and You Were the Fool (the best one) are my favorites; but other than Fluffy, every song is a good time. What really sells this album in particular, is that none of these songs would sound out of place on one of their other Rock centric albums, which allows me to extend a lot more grace towards it. Pretty good listen. For what it is, it's pretty consistent, but there's of course better Ween albums out there.

I run a beer league hockey team, and we plan on “tail gating” or “pre-game” with hotdogs without physically cooking them ourselves (too lazy to bring portable grill/clean). We are looking to get like 30-50 hotdogs and a few pizzas. What’s the best approach without having spit in my food? Canadian and it’ll be next Tuesday, so a weekday around 530pm. [Dont worry, we don’t want all 30-50 drinks aswell haha]

Been a long road from me hating Nioh 1 by not approaching it how I should've, but when the dust has settled I'm finding myself pretty satisfied with my time in Nioh 2. I bounced off of it years ago when I first tried it, but something just clicked in me with using the Fist weapons and punching (and more importantly, shoulder checking for stamina damage) everything to death.
While the going was still a bit rocky at times and the difficulty was a bit all over the place at times (fresh from my memory being that I found Tate Eboshi way harder than Otakemaru or Nightmare Bringer), the polish and extra mechanics compared to Nioh 1 really shone through too. Burst Counters were a nice new feature, and Yokai moves similarly helped give you a more varied toolkit that could help dealing with Yokai by depleting their stamina more readily, whereas it was harder to do in Nioh 1. Those kinds of features (but more precisely their absence) are kinda why I'm in no hurry to try a "redemption run" of Nioh 1 anytime soon, but I can at least look back at it and go "yeah I was too hard on it".
In general I feel like Nioh 2 also did a better job with its boss fight balances. I remember a couple of dual boss fights in Nioh 1 being especially rough near the end because the fights were never balanced around being 1v2s, but stuff like the Gozuki/Mezuki fight in Nioh 2 just flowed a lot better.
The story has a lot of the same problems that Nioh 1 had of "this historical character shows up, does the one thing they're famous for, and then never gets mentioned ever again", but the emotional throughline of your relationship with Tochikiro was a nice touch though and helped the final boss fight pack a little more emotional weight than anything in Nioh 1.
Thus I'm left with only one major complaint, which is kinda a shitpost but fuck it. It's something I wanted to see.
The Lightning Gods of Yomi.
Which you fight as a singular enemy.
Fuck that shit, I had been looking forward to and dreading some sort of gonzo-ass 1v8 fight in the spirit of Dark Souls 2's Belfry Gargoyles or the Four Kings! Yeah the fight wouldn't have been as well-designed as a result but sometimes you just want to watch a bad movie, or had a terribly designed boss fight. And Team Ninja were cowards for holding themselves to a higher standard than that.
And instead it was the people working on Wo Long who had the bright idea to have the hardest boss fight be just three random dudes who gank you like bastards.

That’s really it. His sound is hell, his only good songs are collabs he’s done with other artists. I can’t believe so many people from my generation name him as the greatest. I run to skip his songs when they come on. So many other incredible artists out there.