Help with identifying radio signals.
WFKU is a worldwide dark internet radio station. We pride ourselves on uniting the dark music scene with class, passion, and dedication. Not only do we serve those who follow the goth scene, but we also take pride in the fact that we deliver great music to anyone with a little internal rhythm of the darkest kind of nature. Graveyard lovers and anyone with a taste for the Macabre is welcome.
Welcome back to the jungle! 🇦🇺🙌 “I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here!” is a reality TV series in which up to 12 celebrities live together in a jungle environment for a number of weeks. They have no luxuries, and compete to be crowned king or queen of the jungle.
It's been 7.5 years since I socially transitioned. In 2015 I felt the world was not as open-minded as it should be and so my goal was to be stealth asap. A year later I had FFS and vocal surgery and from that point on I left the trans identity behind me and continued living my life as if I were born a cisgender female.
In the first 3 years being stealth felt elating. Not being asked questions, not fearing discrimination for being trans.
Over the last 3 years I still feel that stealth gave me a lot of advantages especially when it comes to public safety, although I feel a sense of loss as well. It's exhausting to conceal your past and be on your guards 24/7. Sometimes I wish I could just drop those walls and be me with my past.
A few years ago I attended college as a mature student and in one of the psychology classes we had to give a presentation about how our personality evolved from childhood to adulthood.
I had to ommit practical examples because those would have outed me.
Another example is dating: I have had a few boyfriends since I started but all of them were embarrassed of me being trans. They explicitly made it clear that they were only ok with me because it wasn't visible and known to the rest of the world. That kind of hurt a bit because I felt like someone carrying around shame-worthy luggage.
I'm in Toronto. I feel safe here and would probably still feel safe if I decided to come clear about my history, but when I see the growing animosity towards trans individuals in the US I still feel like it's safer to continue stealthing because you never know how a given country is going to evolve politically.
Being stealth comes with its own challenges that I sometimes wish could be escaped.
I am seriously at a loss here. I've never had this issue with anyone else.
As relevant background, I have some issues around food being cooked all the way, due to some really horrible health issues as a kid. The TL;DR is that I've got ARFID coupled with a pretty severe phobia of vomiting. It sucks and even makes me anxious about what OTHER people eat.
I have two housemates who I've been friends with for a couple years. Max -- the 25NB friend in question -- and Kirby (24NB).
The most recent problem happened around dinner a few nights back I was cooking one part and Kirby was cooking the other. While Max and Kirby were talking about the part of the meal I was nervous about, I got the sense that I wasn't going to be able to eat it. I was inquiring about the texture, but I felt terrible about outright rejecting food. Max finally just said, "Yeah, you probably wouldn't like the texture."
I just sort of nervously laughed and jokingly asked, "You sure you're not just saying that so you can have my food?"
Max gave me a confused look and said no, then started saying that it was hard because they and Kirby like food the same way but I don't. I'll admit to being exasperated when I said that it isn't really that hard ... my stuff just needs to be left in longer. I might have raised my voice but I definitely didn't yell or sound angry. Max grabbed some food and left pretty soon after that (they had something they needed to get back to, so it didn't seem that weird) and then it was just me and Kirby. I apologized if I'd come off badly and Kirby assured me that I didn't, and they were sorry things weren't cooked all the way for me and would toss mine back in until it was done.
The next morning, I woke up to a wall of text from Max telling me that they were angry that I'd called them a liar, angry that I was taking my trauma out on them, and that it was clear from all the times I'd brought up my food issues that I was trying to bait them into a fight.
I was ... and still am ... pretty confused. I apologized for my tone and for getting upset, but said I never called them a liar. Apparently that remark was in response to the joke I made about them wanting my food -- I'll admit that I'm autistic and tone really isn't my strong suit. But I think the idea of me flat out calling them a liar is sort of a reach. It's not the sort of thing I'd do.
They expressed how upset they were at me for dismissing everything they'd said, and I again asserted that I was really sorry for the uncomfortable situation and for being exasperated with them, but there was some stuff they were saying that genuinely didn't happen, including all the assumptions made about what I was thinking when I'd talked about my food issues before (it's food ... it comes up a lot. I've been clear that I don't want it to cause any drama!). Things escalated to them saying they were never cooking for me again (they didn't even cook that night) and to never tell them about any of my trauma ever again.
Now one of Max's friends, extraneous to this whole situation, has been messaging me and trying to get me to listen to Max's side and apologize for calling them a liar. I feel absolutely backed into a corner and trapped. I don't think this is going away, even if I do apologize again for the situation or for making a joke at a bad time. Apparently Max's feelings about the whole situation trump anything that happened on my end.
Unfortunately this is NOT the first time this has happened. Even when I've tried to use my Therapist Voice (lots of "I feel like..."/passive voice/etc) to discuss a problem with Max (and even have people help me write things to be as non-threatening as possible), they tend to freak out, go on the offensive, not accept when I tell them I wasn't thinking anything like that at all, and argue things from a stance that makes me genuinely wonder if we experienced the same event. Details will be heavily skewed, there's either new information or information left out ... it's honestly sort of scary. I don't get the sense they're changing details on purpose, but it makes dealing with these situations that much more of a nightmare.
I have zero clue how to resolve this whole mess and I definitely don't want to drag Kirby into it. I just feel like the bad guy and I've just been hiding in my room the last few days. How do I resolve this??
Not sure if it was just the coverage that made him look bad. But how was Lance not penalized? There were several shots of him making completely idiotic overtake attempts and rear ending other cars before eventually hitting he wall, losing his front wing and retiring. Abysmal race for him. I’ve defended Lance in the past but I didn’t like what I saw from him on track at all today.
When Cassidy uses fan the hammer, are the bullet holes that show up in the wall constellations??? I see constellation please help me confirm I’m not Sigma irl. My duo and her brother don’t believe me because nothing shows up on the internet.
Any recommendations for routers that can handle 1.5Gbps service at full speed.
Ideally not rack mount and no built in wifi.
My ISP has just upgraded me for free to 1.5 Gbps and I use the supplied modem in bridge mode and then use my own gear for routing and wifi. My current router can not cope with that kind of speed and is not going above 940 down so want something else.
The supplied modem does have a 2.5 port on the back so I should be able to get full speed from my ISP just need a better router.
I am not fully aware and I'm pretty sure most people don't understand what is actually going on either but is it safe to assume as a Canadian I can just walk to the southern border like the Mexicans are and say i am seeking Asylum. I've been to America several times the normal way which is vacation once last year to Mount Rushmore and the Blackhills. This past February to Vegas so I do it the normal way. I just don't understand what's going on.
I’m physically and emotionally fucked. My legs have been carrying around a corpse for about 29 years now. I can’t tell what my emotions are and according to my therapist, all of my friendships are superficial. I haven’t loved or even liked myself since I was 16. I just feel dead inside. I haven’t had a relationship at all in my life. I’m stuck between wanting to destroy this world and wanting to destroy myself. My parents were neglectful and my father abused me. I’ve been to two mental hospitals for attempted suicide. I feel like I’m stuck in an endless wall of smoke with no way out, no matter how far I walk. I don’t have a college education or a good paying job. Everyday I fall a little bit deeper into this void called despair. Most nights I have to do copious amount of weed just to laugh or feel anything. It also helps with not painting the walls in my room like Pablo Picasso with my brain. My self confidence is at an all time low because my brain tells me that I’m a 2/10 every time I look at the mirror. Even with friends and family constantly around me, I feel truly alone and it’s starting to cripple me.
Next Patreon Official Subreddit Series Wiki Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. The Tent. Local Time: 0500 Hours. Emma Booker
I fucked up.
And I had no one else but myself to blame.
You know that feeling when you dive head-first into a project that you had zero doubts would somehow work itself out in the end?
The sudden surge of confidence that comes when you let the indomitable human spirit take the wheel?
Well that was me at 0300 hours when my eyes landed upon the hygiene module, and pictured the inevitable outcome of a steaming hot shower after an entire day of nonstop grinding.
I couldn’t help myself but to fall into the same trap as every other would-be DIY-er. I couldn’t stop the excitement, the sudden surge of energy, and the absolute hyperfixation that came with completing a project that promised nothing but endless positives, at the expense of some time and effort that would prove minimal in the grand scheme of things.
And just like every would-be DIY-er, I was this
close to completing the task at hand, before finally reaching a roadblock that inevitably brought everything
to a screeching halt. FINAL STEP: REFER TO [UNDESIGNATED WATER SOURCE] FOR ATTACHMENT OF INTAKE PIPE [EIP23] TO EXTERNAL PUMPING MODULE [EPM-1].
That one, final instruction, decimated
Especially as I got to that final step at just shy of 0500 hours, when I finally had the entire damn module set up, only to realize that I had missed out on a vital pre-procedure checklist that I’d purposefully skipped because I’d assumed it would be a non-issue. ENVIRONMENTAL PREREQUISITE: LOCATE, EVALUATE, AND SECURE A RELIABLE WATER SOURCE.
And that’s why I only had myself to blame for this fiasco.
Because I’d assumed that the availability of a water-source in the dorms would’ve been an open and shut case. It only made sense for me to make that assumption though, as I saw that Thacea had clearly
used the dorm’s en-suite to shower just the night before.
It was because of this that I didn’t even bother checking the bathroom to begin with. I thought that whatever was in there could’ve easily fit the hyper-modular fittings of the source-intake pipe.
Things couldn’t have been further from the truth however, as what I saw within that bathroom made me question the very fabric of my own reality.
As within those four marble walls, was nothing.
Nothing, but a series of dull flat marble surfaces, and some strange wall-fittings that looked like something out of a 21st century ‘modern’ art exhibit.
There was nothing here that resembled a tap, or even hinted at the fact that there were even any pipes
carrying running water
behind those four bare walls.
The only other thing of note here was an unseen light source keeping the bathroom lit.
Aside from that, there was literally nothing
This meant I had only one option available to me.
The most logical and straightforward option, of simply nudging the avinor princess awake just so I could ask where I could find a fucking tap
Whilst it was the most straightforward thing to do, I just couldn’t get myself to do it.
I’d thought about going up those stairs to nudge the avian awake, to then apologize profusely for disturbing her sleep… but given everything Thacea had done for me thus far, and considering the fact that I
was responsible for almost all of the headaches we were currently experiencing, it just felt wrong for me to disturb here at that hour.
So I was left with the inconvenient truth of my circumstances, and decided to just embrace the suck, toughing out the folly of my hubris…
At least, until morning came around.
At that point, I could rest easy in actually asking the princess for pointers on the enigmatic machinations of the bathroom.
Until then, I would sleep.
And hopefully, my shortsighted adventure would bear some fruit when morning rears its ugly head around. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1000 Hours. Emma Booker
Good news: Half of my hard work actually paid off.
Bad news: Only half
of my hard work actually paid off.
Upon waking up three hours later, forcing my carcass up and back into the suit, I’d managed to flag down Thacea just as she was getting out of bed.
The princess’ reactions to my questions were nothing short of the politeness I’d expected from her.
Which managed to put me at ease as I was getting worried I was starting to get on her nerves with my constant flurry of questions.
The bathroom turned out to be yet another demonstration of the Nexus’ completely unhinged philosophies. As it relied entirely
on a mana user’s manipulation of the room to operate. Apparently, whoever designed this place took the whole concept of a modular, personalized room, and just ran
with it. Making it so that every aspect of the room relied solely on the mana user to work, as they had to shape, form, and structure the otherwise blank slate before use. This was supposedly done so that the room could be made to fit the precise
criterion of a person’s liking. To me however, it just felt like another bizarre concept pulled straight out of the Nexus’ seemingly endless idea-pool of zany, overkill, and mana-addled solutions to problems that sort of
Thankfully, the bathroom didn’t require constant
intervention from a mana-user to operate, as certain elements could be permanently turned on.
This included the water mains, which I immediately hooked up the pipes to, as the mana-contaminated water was quickly siphoned into a series of filtration units, all with the express purpose of extracting and removing every ounce of mana present within the water.
This process took about two hours to do.
But by the end of it, I was rewarded for all my troubles by one of the best showers I’ve ever had.
All of the stress, even the constant ticking of the bomb which constantly gnawed at the back of my mind, seemed to fade away for a few short minutes as the warm water washed everything away.
But that about wrapped up the good news.
The bad news however, came in the form of the little MREDD experiment from the previous night.
As I opened the triple-airlocked compartment on my side of the tent, I was met with what could only be described as ‘food’ in name and aesthetics alone.
The soft, white, fluffy loaf of bread had literally become a baton. Whilst the pancakes were now more reminiscent of a mini-frisbee that cracked and crumbled the moment I laid my fingers on them.
My immeasurable disappointment grew the longer I stood there next to the MREDD, and the longer I stared at the small stack of dust that was once a perfectly cooked stack of pancakes.
Beyond this however, I could feel a bit of anxiety seeping in, as the results of the experiment did
make me a bit anxious as to the long-term food security of this mission.
Then again, I should’ve expected this result.
the first calibration test after all.
“I should’ve expected this, shouldn’t I?” I spoke to no one in particular, but quickly garnered the attention of the EVI who remained within the power armor that currently stood imposingly just a few feet away from me. “That is correct, Cadet Booker. As you are already aware, the MREDD is designed with multiple calibration protocols in-effect, each which correspond to the type and densities of the foodstuffs to be desaturated. In addition to this, the systems are designed to test the maximal extraction threshold against the subjective palatability gradient with the food safety variable as an integral aspect of these tests. Thus, the first-round extraction procedures dictate that the MREDD will attempt maximal extraction settings, in order to both stress-test the components and systems, as well as to garner data on the mana-extraction process at the maximal setting.”
I blinked rapidly upon hearing the EVI’s explanation being blasted from my suit’s speakers. It felt somewhat jarring turning around to face my armor talking
to me. But then again, I should’ve expected it, as I’d yet to set up any other speaker systems within the tent for it to speak through.
, EVI. They already ran everything by me during the briefings. Though I would be lying if I didn’t say I sort of hoped
that putting the food under full blast for 7 hours would’ve somehow miraculously resulted in something edible
.” I managed out with a sigh. “Cadet Booker, it is logical to assume that since the extraction of mana from both food and water is indeed viable, that the only point of contention is now the palatability of the foodstuffs rendered through the MREDD.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off as I began tapping on the loaf of bread that sounded
like styrofoam when I hit it against the armor. “I think you and I have different definitions of palatable.” “I am confident that the mana-extraction process can be optimized, Cadet Booker. It is at this point that I must ask that you assess the palatability of the designated foodstuff marked CONSUMABLE GROUP A, ITEM 1, for the purposes of data-gathering and analysis.”
The AI spoke in a no-nonsense fashion, as I turned around, giving it a look of utter incredulity.
“You want me to try to eat this
?” I shot back, tapping on the styrofoam bread for added effect. “I require data on the palatability of foodstuff A-1 [BREAD] as it is a subjective dataset relying entirely on the input of the human subject.”
The AI continued.
I couldn’t help but to shudder at that last line, especially with how it was delivered.
Popular media back home was currently going through another AI-apocalypse phase, with a lot of movies, both immersive and traditional, diving deep into the uncomfortable topics of human-AI relations post
Being stuck in a bare, white tent, with a monotone, somewhat disgruntled-sounding VI talking to me through a suit of armor several heads taller than me all the while suddenly referring to me as subject
really wasn’t doing my movie-binging gremlin brain any favors.
I hesitated for a few seconds, tentatively staring at the bread, then the armor, then back to the bread again, before finally just going for it... CRUNCH
It did not end well. “Cadet Booker, I did not require that you actively consume a foodstuff you consider inedible or are uncomfortable eating. I merely needed a dataset for the purposes of this experiment, even if that data-set is a refusal to consume the foodstuff in question.
I stared back at the VI with unamused eyes and a mouthful of hard-tack currently turning my mouth into the Greater Sahara.
“Damnghit Aeevi.” I managed out with a mouth full of bland, stale bread, before reaching for the water dispenser which thankfully still had some mana-free water inside of it. “Shall I log A-1 down as unpalatable then, Cadet?”
The AI spoke with a hint of disappointment in its voice.
Though I was probably just imagining the actual tone
of its voice.
Projection was a heck of a thing after all.
“Yes. And make sure you clarify
your intent next time.” I snapped back, as I finished up what limited bits of housekeeping I needed to for now. Which included punting the balled-up undersuit into the washer, getting the wash and dry cycle started, before grabbing a fresh undersuit from the cargo airlock and quickly putting it on.
“I guess the next test with the MREDD includes extracting mana at a slow, sustained rate?” I spoke as I began recalibrating the different electronic components within the undersuit. “Correct, Cadet Booker. Provided of course, that the foodstuffs are of a similar type, and contain similar properties to GROUP A.”
“Acknowledged.” I responded promptly, shuddering a bit as the haptic feedback finished its calibration cycles. “Alright then, we got a lot of work ahead of us, so let’s get going. System status, SRR?” I asked as per protocol, steadying my hand on the suit’s ‘backpack’. “Diagnostics running… pending… All systems nominal, Cadet Booker. Status: Ready for standard operations.”
“Operator acknowledges system status after pre-mission diagnostics.” I replied dryly, and with a few final breaths I pulled myself back into the armor. “Current objectives? Preferably the ones I listed before dozing off last night?” I continued, as my eyes quickly readjusted to the constant assault on the senses that was the HUD. “Priority Objective: Locate and Secure Container 10. Current time remaining until activation of the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties Protocols… 36 hours, 34 minutes, and 47 seconds.”
“Alright then, let’s pay a visit to our dear old friend… hopefully she’s alive and lucid enough to get us to the bottom of this little predicament.” Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1020 Hours. Emma Booker
Transitioning from the tent to the marble and cobblestone world of the Academy was always jarring. Opening those external protective flaps to reveal something that wasn’t
more bare white paneling and drab gray composalite would probably be something I’d need to get used to.
I got into the swing of things quick enough, as I was met with the likes of Thacea who was busy reading on one of the many ornate seats that formed the mini-living
room within our loft.
“Was the water to your liking, Emma?” Thacea asked with a clack of her beak.
“I managed to squeeze in a couple minutes worth of a shower, so that’s a win in my book!” I beamed out. “But with a constant stream of filtered water filling up my reservoirs now, I should be able to get something more substantial later tonight.”
The princess nodded slowly at that. “The lengths to which you need to go, just to attain what we take for granted on a daily basis, is quite remarkable Emma.”
“It is what it is, Thacea.” I shrugged in response. “The very air I breathe needs to be filtered. This whole world, or heck, even your
worlds are actively hostile to human life. These measures are something that are cumbersome, and seriously draining to deal with, but it’s necessary. Besides, it’s not as if these measures are something new
where I come from. My people have had a history of intrepid explorers, brave pioneers, and foolish thrillseekers who all surge forward into inhospitable domains just so they can crest the next wave, or see what’s over the next hill.” I paused for a moment, as I was tempted to strike a pose, but quickly decided against it. “I’m just furthering a legacy that’s already been established. Or at least, I hope I’m doing that. Heck if I know if I’m actually doing things right. Nine times out of ten, I feel like I’m just making the best of my situation.”
“I can’t say I can understand the appeal of this legacy of actively seeking hostile-domains.” Thacea responded with an equal mix of curiosity and genuine concern. “And I do not know what manner of civilization would result from such a culture, though I do harbor a morbid curiosity to inquire further… However, I can most certainly resonate with your latter statements, Emma. Half of the court politics I contend with simply amounts to making do with the hand you’ve been dealt, of making best of one’s situation, and doing whatever it is in your limited scope and power to maintain life, security, and perhaps some waning semblance of your own personal liberty. It’s a great game
, where doubt comes naturally as a result of being a player and not the host
There was a small pause that followed Thacea’s response as one point in particular caught my attention more than any other.
It was unfortunate that it was so topical as well, given how if things had turned out any differently, this conversation would’ve moved right on into an hours-long exchange of life and culture.
Thacea mentioning the concept of a great game
, immediately brought me back to the conversation with Ilunor the previous night.
“Thacea… would you mind if I consulted you on something?” I began, as the gears in my head began turning now at the first major issue of the day.
The princess seemed to catch on as she leaned forward in her seat intently, and nodded. “By all means.”
“Something happened last night at the workshop, and it wasn’t anything to do with the armorer… though, we can talk about that
later.” I took a deep breath as I shelved that
topic for another time. “Did you happen to pay any attention to Ilunor’s whereabouts after I left for the workshop?”
“Not particularly, no. Lord Rul-, erm, Ilunor
had seemingly remained in his room until Thalmin and I retired to our respective rooms. After that, I simply have no recollection of anything beyond my own domicile.”
“Well, Ilunor followed me to the workshop.” I stated plainly, pausing for a moment to gauge Thacea’s reaction. Of which there really was none as she managed to keep that signature poker-face that was probably second nature to her by now.
“And I’m assuming since you managed to uncover this, that his meddling had failed in some way shape or form?” Thacea shot back coolly.
“Correct. However, here’s where things get complicated. I’ll save the bulk of the events for later, but long story short, that discount kobold decided to use some sort of a projection
spell to spook me just as I was in the middle of the weapons inspection with the armorer, and the projection used wasn’t just something a random monster or anything… he purposefully chose to bring out a carbon-copy version of the null.”
Thacea’s face shifted at this, which given how difficult it was to phase her, probably meant her mind was going through the full implications of this revelation.
I pressed on as Thacea urged me to continue with a single nod. “Well, I shot it. And, no, nobody was hurt. Fast forward a chase sequence later, and the armorer eventually managed to corner and capture Ilunor. However, when we pressed him for answers about why
he was there to begin with? Well… I think it’ll be better for you to see for yourself.”
It was with this that I brought out my data-pad, and began replaying the relevant scenes for Thacea to see.
Starting from the brief spats between Ilunor and the armorer, all the way to my confrontation with the diminutive lizard, Thacea’s gaze remained completely transfixed. She did
flinch a bit when the footage finally went over my dealings with the lizard, and Ilunor’s sudden shift in persona as I pulled out the library card and began talking his language.
Yet despite being inundated with this sudden flood of information, with a completely unexpected tangent, she soon responded cooly and without much in the way of a delay. “This complicates matters.” She began slowly. “This entire situation calls for a complete reevaluation of the dynamics of this peer group, and how we need to approach Lord Rul-, Ilunor
.” Thacea promptly corrected herself before continuing. “There’s a great number of layers to this unexpected development
, each of which hints at a greater game being played here, and points at the fact that there are a great number of interested parties beyond just
Ilunor.” The princess took a moment to let out an exasperated coo, her eyes finally moving away from the tablet and back to me. “You must understand as well as I, that Ilunor’s actions do not constitute a scheme of his own making, correct?”
“That I do.” I nodded simply. “The fact that he’s even bothering
to do this in the first place is outside of his whole I’m above you
persona. I’m not sure if the same rings true here, but where I come from, becoming a spook
is not something that most people in high and mighty positions would ever stoop down to. Besides, I think we have a lead. I don’t think a student would actively defer a bit of punishment from a lower level administrator, in order to fast-track it to the highest authorities if they weren’t in cahoots with them.”
“This coincides with my observations of these developments as well, Emma.” Thacea responded with a resonant chirp. “To add to this, his knowledge of the null is most certainly not
circumstantial, and considering he was absent from our adventures the previous day, his knowledge of this creature would hint to either the feeding of information via a higher benefactor, or a direct observation of our activities from afar. Either way, this does not bode well.”
“This leads me to what I wanted to consult you on, Thacea. If Ilunor’s out there waiting for us right now, would it be best if we confronted him outright in front of Thalmin or-”
“No.” Thacea interjected sharply, and with a certainty that was almost uncharacteristic of her. “Confronting Ilunor out in the open, in front of others not privy to you and the Vunerian’s current game
, would be outright suicide to the dialogue you’ve managed to broker with him the previous night. You’ve managed to prove yourself as not just another pawn, but a player
in the game, at least in Ilunor’s eyes. It would be wise to maintain that momentum, Emma. By continuing this line of dialogue with him in private, there is a higher likelihood the Vunerian will divulge more information as he speaks to you frankly, beyond what his current facade will allow. This is now a matter between you and the Vunerian, as Thalmin and I are not privy to these political transactions.”
I couldn’t help but to mimic the princess by gripping my forehead as well, letting out a sigh as the dread of complex court politics had begun seeping in faster than I expected. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I’ll just let that situation slide for now, making sure not to mention my dealings with Ilunor when he’s around, and focus instead on our other
problems. It’s not like we have a shortage of other
things to worry about after all.” I sighed sharply.
“That is an acceptable plan. ” Thacea responded promptly as she stood up and began straightening out her uniform. “Right then, shall we proceed?” Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1025 Hours. Emma Booker
As we exited the bedroom, we were once more met with a similar sight reminiscent of the previous day’s. As there, on the couch, were the bickering pair that had seemed to have carried over their arguments from the previous night.
Except this time, the context seemed to have thankfully shifted to something new.
“Every minute I waste in this room for the sake of that Earthrealmer is another minute that I grow increasingly more famished. It is unbecoming of a noble
to sit in waiting for a commoner
. In fact, it should be the other way around. Or perhaps this is yet another one of your Havenbrockian reforms that test the Nexus’ patience, Prince
Thalmin?” I could hear Ilunor snapping at Thalmin just as we made our way into the living room proper.
Thalmin, amazingly, resisted responding in kind as he got up as soon as we made our way towards the pair.
“We were waiting for the both of you, but it should be fine. Should we miss the breakfast, there is always an a la carte menu we can-”
“I have met the criterion for your unlawful detainment, mercenary
. Thus, I shall take my leave.” Ilunor promptly jumped off from the couch and began trotting
his way over to the door, his little legs were clearly attempting to generate some sort of a forceful series of thumps
as he did so, but only resulted in a light series of taps
given his diminutive size.
“Hold on a minute there! That wasn’t our agreement! You agreed to-”
“I agreed to wait for the Earthrealmer and the tainted one. I have no other reason to be here. Now, I must resume my extracurriculars. You lot can do whatever it is you get up to. I will be having none of it.” Ilunor turned to face the Lupinor one final time, before slamming the front door shut, and skittering off.
This made things so
much simpler as it meant we were in the clear for now.
“I’m sorry princess.” Thalmin turned to face Thacea. “I thought we might be able to squeeze something out of him yet, but the Vunerian continues to be as squirmy as a prairie rodent.”
“It’s quite alright, Thalmin.” Thacea began, as she turned towards me as if to confirm whether or not I wanted her to proceed on my behalf. To which I did. “There are a few matters we must address regarding Ilunor, which I suggest we do over a short breakfast, as we have even more pressing matters following this.”
After a reluctant pause, the lupinor prince nodded in agreement, leading to both of us sitting down- ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
-and a privacy screen being brought down soon after.
“So, shall we talk about this over a brunch platter?” The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to the Healing Wing. Local Time: 1050 Hours.
Thalmin’s reactions were nothing short of what I’d expected.
There was absolute outrage, followed by an unrepentant series of growls, capped off with barks of seething anger at the same clips I’d played for Thacea earlier.
The mercenary prince was perhaps even more
uncomfortable than I was at my entry into this game
, as it was clear Thalmin despite his noble heritage, wasn’t really one to dabble in it at all.
“I’m telling you Emma, this is a dangerous path forward. Are you certain you are making the wisest choice?” He spoke once again, continuing the conversation from earlier, underneath yet another privacy screen Thacea was maintaining as we approached the medical wing.
“I don’t like it either, Thalmin. There’s nothing more I hate than playing politics
, but it’s unfortunately a pill I have to swallow if we’re going to get to the bottom of the issues surrounding Ilunor. I mean, I overheard you guys arguing late into the night. I really don’t think confronting him normally
is going to get us anywhere.”
The lupinor let out a sigh of defeat at that, as he lowered his head in my general direction. “I can’t fault that logic, Emma. Perhaps… speaking his language
, as you put it, would bring us some resolution to this frankly irritating problem. However…” The Lupinor’s voice lowered, just as we were about to reach the doors to the healing wing proper. “I know how these games work, Emma. It’s dangerous, so make sure you tread lightly, and just know that I, as part of your peer group, am here to support you should the need arise.” The prince reassured me with a smirk, as we pushed past the double doors and into the medical wing proper.
Or at least, that’s what I thought, as we entered what looked to be a massive circular room with multiple branching hallways connected to it like spokes on a wheel. In typical Academy-fashion however, the room really wasn’t at all modest with its size. As it went up a solid twenty or so stories, with high pillars piercing straight up into a marble-lined rotunda with moving
murals painted on it like some grand cathedral. Between these pillars were little outcroppings where several gargoyles were perched.
Gargoyles which I could swear were looking straight at
us. ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
My gut was proven right again, as it only took a few seconds after our entry for these stony beasts to come to life, with multiple bursts of mana-radiation accompanying what could only be described as the sounds of cracking concrete.
Soon enough, several large gargoyles made harsh, heavy landings right in front of us. The two closest to us held out their arms, before zapping two stony spears into existence, crossing them in a clear display to stop us from going any further.
“Halt!” A voice commanded from above
, as a shadowy figure landed right in front of the two gargoyles blocking our path. The figure’s face was hidden underneath an unnatural shadow casted by his hood, revealing just two trapezoidal lights where his eyes should be. “The healing wing is currently off-limits to visitors. So state your ailment, or leave where you came from.” The voice boomed
, echoing throughout the large open space, as all eyes within the room now landed squarely on us. First Previous
(Author’s Note: Hey guys! We see more glimpses of Emma's quality of life getting set up here, and we're now making our way over to the apprentice! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi
! And my Patreon
for early chapter releases (Chapter 33 of this story is already out on there!)]
I had a rough childhood in almost every aspect, growing up was hard.. right from the start I was having trouble excelling in school. I flunked my first year of kindergarten, and then I had to repeat the 8th grade. It was a miracle every time that I somehow made it through. I paid attention and studied hard, but there was just something that wasn't right and I didn't understand. My parents boiled it down to me not paying attention and I would just cry because I knew that wasn't the case.. trying to talk back and have an actual conversation with my parents was impossible though.. I'd get a smack to the face from my mother, and don't let it be my father I was talking back to! He'd beat me until another tear wasn't able to fall.. my father was an alcoholic and always kept the cupboards packed with booze, when I was 14 I snuck some for myself to just see what was so good about it, and I thought it'd be a fun experience.. I was already dealing with tons of anxiety and self loathing at this age, I felt like a fucking failure and after that first night of trying alcohol- I found my cope. I started getting drunk alone in my room when my parents would go to bed at least 4-5 nights out of the week.. I was scared of being caught , but I thought that my father was getting too drunk every night to realize whether or not he drank the alcohol that was missing, I was right.
prioritizing drinking over my school work caused my grades to flunk further, by the time I made it into the 10th grade I was 18, still struggling and holding on by a thread. Literally all I could think about was getting home and drinking my problems away. I dropped out of school because it was getting increasingly harder, making friends was easy for me as a kid, but when I entered my teenage years, it's like my personality left and I felt/still feel like a walking mental illness.. I didn't know how to be happy or have fun anymore, my only idea of fun was drinking, which I did alone. After dropping out, I stayed at home most days, jacking off during the day to pass time, I was always ready for it to be night time.. I knew I was addicted, but I didn't care. Dropping out of school was the biggest mistake ever, for the next year and half that's literally all I did, drink and masturbate. My dad was still very emotionally abusive, but he didn't physically abuse me anymore.. I think because I reached his height and level of strength at that point. They harassed me about getting a job everyday and told me I needed therapy, and that they'd pay for it. I refused and all of this just led to more resentment, how are you going to offer help for what caused? I struggled with symptoms of OCD growing up, it was basically just the kind that my mind would get set on a situation and I'd end up overthinking it.. these thoughts came from a place of concern, but then I started to suffer from very very frightening intrusive thoughts- everyday my mind was plagued with the thought of killing my parents, especially my dad. The fact that my father had guns locked up in the house made these thoughts even scarier for me. I thought at one point I was going to actually end up doing it- it felt like my real self was watered down and that some kind of evil lived in me and I felt like I was barely in control of my own body. I used to stare at the guns/knives in the kitchen and just try to actually think about what it would be like.. by doing this, I thought it would scare me out of having these thoughts, but they only grew stronger.. because of this, I started to abuse alcohol even more, sleeping more hrs of the day and would go for walks randomly to put myself at a distance to protect my parents from my own self.. my family has never been been the religious kind, but I would just pray at night and ask God to take these thoughts away or at least let me die in my sleep. Suicidal thoughts never stayed with me long, I wanted to die, but I was too weak to do it myself. Every cope that I had worked somewhat, but I needed something more, I started to cut myself on my arms/thighs/and chest and it made living a bit easier. The thoughts still continued to grow and I had no options, I was either going to end up commiting a crime so evil, or accept help from my parents.. so I did.
I started to attend one therapy session a week until my therapist suggested I started seeing him twice a week.. I told him about my sick obsessive thoughts, how I've been drinking since I was 14, the self harming, and how I struggled in school.. that topic kinda stayed on the back burner for like 3 months because I was dealing with much scarier stuff at the time. I ended up getting an official diagnosis for depression, OCD and ADHD.. which probably explains a lot for why I struggled in school so much. I was prescribed Zoloft but due to his knowing of my struggles with alcohol, I wasn't able to get a narcotic for my ADHD. my OCD started to simmer down some l, but the thought still stayed in the back of my head always and was overwhelming. I was able to get a job in a factory, working in an environment like this was terrible.. I tried to avoid talking to others because I never wanted there to be a potential conflict, I was scared that if that happened I would end up being plagued with the thoughts of hurting others, it happened from time to time.. but those thoughts wore off, my thought of hurting my parents is still with me to this day. I continued to work up until I could get my own place, it was a crappy apartment, but at least being there kept me in distance from my parents, the only time I went over to visit was when I wanted to steal some alcohol.. which was often.
I had gotten a hold on the self harming, well besides drinking.. I was almost 20 at this point and then me and my therapist started to speak more about how about how I struggled in school.. how it was the spark for me falling into addiction. I then was diagnosed with dyscalculia and dysgraphia.. everything started to make sense now, I finally knew why I struggled so badly in school and now it was too late.. I never received any help, you'd think that someone in the school system would have suggested help- but no.. it was just brushed off as laziness. And the only response I got from bad grades, is a beating. After that diagnosis I started to self harm again, I was cutting almost everyday. This made my resentment grow for my parents, to the point of hatred for the both of them, especially my father.. my mother was abusive too, and I was definitely neglected as a child, but I blame my father even more.. this led me back to having the same thoughts and they were stronger than ever. I stopped going over there and eventually was able to buy alcohol from a gas station that didn't bother to ID.. I had so much built up anger and I had to take it out on someone or something.. every time I would get drunk, I'd end up punching more and more holes in my wall.. I'm afraid to move because I know I'd be sued out the ass. It's now been another year, im 21 and haven't spoken to my parents in like 7 months for the sake of their own safety.. I can't make friends, have a girlfriend, or even have a pet because I'm insanely afraid of what I could do in moments of rage.. besides the meds, I stopped going to therapy because I wasn't really getting anywhere. I feel like a lost cause and I really don't know what to do. What's there to work with? I have no intelligence, I'm severally mentally ill, realistically, I'll probably stay working a dead end job until I die alone of liver failure or something. I know this post was long, so if you read all of this, thank you.
Although this is not exactly related to plumbing I would assume this would be the best place to ask for dealing with a pvc pipe. Long story short I have a device for work and one of the parts is a pvc pipe with a 40 mm diameter and 5mm thick walls. I need to make the internal diameter to 42 mm (not much tools available except for a drill and sandpaper, could buy something from a hardware store if needed). Is sanding it by hand even an option it's only a short length of about 8 cm.
I was riding in the passenger seat with a girl named Jennie who I had JUST met to go with to McCall, Idaho for U of I ski team, she started screaming on a bridge where the timezone changes without context (for fun, like wtf) then on a sharp turn she doesn't complete the turn crashing into the rock wall (not head on, at an angle) at 40mph, luckily I braced myself and covered my face with my arms. Plus I drink 2 mochas a day of milk so my bones are made of steel. Sustained only minor bruises. Praise the skeleton god.