Pendant hole too small for chain

I’m just curious if anyone knows an explanation for this:
When I’m printing, I will often do my lowercase y, lowercase w, uppercase I and uppercase M different, even in the same sentence. Each letter has two different styles that I use with no rhyme or reason that I know of. If a word had two w’s in a row, I’d definitely write them the same way, however, in a word like “pygmy” I might write the two y’s differently. Does anyone know why that is? Overall, my writing is very neat and I often refer to it as my “teacher writing.” It doesn’t slant to one side or the other. It’s not too big or too small. I just do the letters differently.

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
Okay this is weird. So, this story is a long time ago, like 6-7 years ago, but its also in the future for us…
German has a specific tense for this, but English has no tense for this…
So, I guess welcome to the close past of the far far future?
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
The bus bumped and jostled over the lumpy dirt road.
Inside bodies swayed and juggled back and forth, ramming into walls and steadying themselves against the antiquated seats before them. The bus was old, older than a large portion of dirt, old enough to have rubber tires, shitty suspension, and foam back seats, nothing like the sleek magno buses they used these days.
Clearly their program wasn't important enough to acquire a real transport vehicle.
Their ride from the airport had been nerve wracking to say the least, and only some of it had come from the imminent threat that the bus would disintegrate into its component parts, most of the rest of it had come from the slow building of nervous energy felt by all the young teens as they waited to begin their first day at training.
There were forty of them in all, though less than half of that was predicted to make it through the training and actually become pilots from the program at Trans Space Combative Aviation Academy. Of course, the Academy didn't have its own location, as new as it was and untested as it was, the burgeoning UNSC wasn't likely to spend a ton of funds on a group of untested children. So, they had been shipped onto Del Rio, Texas where the air force flight academy was located, and had been allocated space, some instructors, and a few classrooms to get started.
Adam had found the other recruits from the program nervously waiting outside with their duffel bags and clothing. None of them were over the age of fifteen, and they consisted almost equally of boys and girls.
Adam was displeased to find himself the shortest among the boys, and about mid pack among the girls, a good portion of them probably weighing a good ten pounds more than he did, though none of them were out of shape.
He tried to ignore that, doing his best to make friends with the other nervous recruits, determined not to be the loser this time. Just as long as he didn't show his weirdness to them straight off, maybe he was going to be fine.
It seemed to be working, at least until the bus pulled up, and the group of them stared on with shock and disappointment at the monstrosity before them.
A centuries old bus.
They sort of hoped it wasn't for them, but the ACU clad, army man stepping out of the door and onto the pavement dashed their hopes.
And soon they were on their way, jostling down the highway, eventually cutting through manned security gates, patrolled by armed guards, and finally onto the backroad that was taken around the airfield. Adam had his face pressed up against the window, watching as a set of jets took off, leaving trails of white behind them in the great blue sky above.
The implant in his arm buzzed, and he looked down to see a text from his mother asking if they had landed yet.
He had to apologize for forgetting and assured her that he was, indeed, landed and on his way.
The further they went onto the base, the more people they could see, large muscular men and women running in formation, wearing the same light grey T-shirts tucked into blue canvas shorts.
Voices roared past them as the men chanted in time with their cadence.
Low lying buildings pulled up on the horizon in front of them, crouched together in stumpy lines. Yelled commands wafted through open windows as more recruits rolled past kicking up dirt clouds as they went.
Adam grew nervous upon seeing them, big and adult.
He glanced down at himself and his baggy T-shirt, and jeans held up only by a belt, the cuffs folded up over his shoes.
They belonged to his brothers, but were still too big for him.
The bus rolled to a stop just then, jostling him forward so his face nearly rammed into the seat in front of him. A dust cloud billowed up around them obscuring his vision for a moment. At the front of the bus, the driver reached out and cranked the handle to the door, manually forcing it open.
"Wow, this thing is a real piece of shit."
Someone muttered, while boots thudded onto the stairs, and the entire bus went quiet as a man stepped onto the front of the bus. He was tall, and serious faced with thick eyebrows and what appeared to be a shaved head, though it was mostly covered by a wide brimmed dumbass hat in dark, clashing seriously with his patterned ACUs.
They all waited on the edge of their seats.
Adam shrunk down into his expecting to get yelled at.
That's what all the old army movies told him was going to happen.
Instead, however, the man smiled.
Adam didn't buy it for one second.
"Welcome recruits to the first TSCA Academy class of 4013. I am Master Sergeant Kimball, and I will be one of your MTI (military training instructor) during this program. If you need to address me at any time during this course, you will call me Sir or Master Sergeant Kimball. Now I understand that you may all be tired from your flight. We have recruits here from all across the world coming in right now, so hopefully, today will be easy and relaxing."
Adam eyed the group around him, watching as the others began to relax.
Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all?
Perhaps because they were kids, they had been given some leeway during the training process?
I mean, were they really going to yell at a group of kids barely out of their teenage years?
Surely, they wouldn’t…
"Alright everyone, Unload!"
There was a collective shuffling around the bus as the group of them took to their feet and began slowly shuffling towards the exit. Adam pulled his bag over his back, nearly tipping over backwards as the weight pulled his small frame off balance. Someone put a hand on his shoulder,
”Whoa."
He glanced over and thanked the girl who had helped him, hurrying off the bus and down the stairs into the hot as hell Texas heat.
Stepping off the bus he found Master Sergeant Kimball standing next to two other MTIs, who were smiling at them, though their smiles seemed more wolfish than reassuring.
My what big teeth you have, he thought idly to himself, stepping to the side so the others could walk through.
One boy came trudging down the steps last, lugging an absolutely massive suitcase as a few of the others flopped to the ground, resting against their bags, eyes closed, basking like lizards in the sun.
Sgt. Kimball stepped forward towards the last young man.
"Here let me help you."
The boy seemed rather grateful, handing his bag down to the MTI, taking some weight off his shoulders.
That was until Sgt. Kimball grabbed the zipper, opened the bag and dumped the entire contents of the suitcase into the dirt. He then got right up in the boy's face and shouted.
"NOW WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK DO YOU NEED A BAG LIKE THAT FOR!? CHRIST SON, I COULD USE IT TO SMUGGLE YOUR CORPSE OUT WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU."
The entire group jolted with surprise, all of them bolting upwards.
Even Adam was startled, and he had been expecting it. The poor kid was scrambling around in the dirt trying to collect his things,
"GET YOUR ASS OFF THE GROUND YOU SORRY PIECE OF SHIT."
The two other MTIs bore down on them, their charming smiles revealed for what they really were.
Wolf in sheep's clothing, snarling ravening beasts.
More bags were dumped on the ground, turned over, emptied until the contents mingled with the dust on the ground. The female MTI leaped over, ripping Adam's bag off the ground and tossing its contents into the dust. She reached down, picked up a book and chucked it at him, hitting him in the chest as he stumbled back.
"YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TIME FOR READING!?”
She moved on to the next student.
One of the recruits had burst into tears, and the MTI's descended like vultures. One of them grabbed a water bottle from the ground and shoved it at the crying student.
"BETTER GET STARTED ON CRYING ME A RIVER!"
Adam was scrambling to pick up his stuff and shove it back in his bag.
"GET ON YOUR FEET!"
He bolted upright to find Sgt. Kimball in his face, or more looking down on him. His face was red and as he screamed, little droplets of spit flew from his tongue. He gave Adam one long look over.
"GOOD LORD BOY, I'VE TAKEN SHITS MORE SUBSTANTIAL THAN YOU!"
"GO ON CLEAN UP THIS SHIT, IT'S FILTHY! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DOING!? THEN GET YOUR ASSES DOWN TO INTAKE."
He scrambled to put his things in his bag, the MTI's shouting at him the entire time. He nearly tripped over himself multiple times, falling flat on his face in the dirt much to the amusement of the MTIs.
"LEAVE YOUR SHIT HERE!"
He tripped and wobbled, running after the others as they ran towards the building that had been pointed out to them by the screaming MTIs. A few of the other recruits were crying, but Adam, well he had sort of expected it, and honestly, he would have been disappointed if they hadn't. In fact, he found himself grinning from ear to ear as he walked into the equipment room behind a line of other recruits.
The equipment officer turned around from his desk to glare at them. He was a heavy-set man in his late forties with biceps as big around as tree trunks.
He looked them over with a frown before jabbing his finger at Adam.
"You there, smiley. Small or extra small?”
He blushed,
"Errr... Extra... Small?”
"At least he's honest."
The man grouted, turning around to rifle through his equipment, coming back with two pairs of everything in stock. He stacked it on the counter in front of him.
"Two PT uniforms, Two ACUs, two shirts, sweatpants, jacket, gloves, hat, and…"
He pulled up a set of tan combat boots then glanced him up and down.
"What is your shoe size?"
"Er..."
More blushing,
"Six."
The man grunted, ducked back behind the counter,
"We only carry eight plus in men’s, but a seven in women's should work."
He tried not to wilt at the reminder of how small he was.
The man turned away again and motioned him off. He clambered to pick up everything he needed and wobbled away, juggling the boots the pants and the jacket with some difficulty, dropping a glove on the floor and nearly dropping everything else when he went to pick it up.
Walking outside he was met by another MTI, who yelled at him to get his ass to the barracks to change and put all his shit away. He hurried to do as he was told, running and nearly dropping everything again as he made his way through the doors into a large room, lined along either side with beds, a single trunk at the base.
He ran to one of the beds at the far end, opened the crate and placed his things inside, struggling to pull on one of the PT uniforms as the others ran into the room to do the same, throwing their things in the lockers at the base of the beds, as the MTIs continued to scream at them.
It was only as he was running out of the room that he noticed the horrible terrible thing.
Oh no…
Please no…
The extra small pants...
They…
They were too big.
He tried looking for a drawstring to make them tighter, but they were canvas with an elastic waist, and they did not go any tighter. He turned in his spot, trying to figure out what to do, but as soon as he slowed down, another MTI was screaming at him to get back onto the field and line up.
So, he chickened out, holding onto his pants for dear life, as he raced back to the training ground.
Upon making it there he helped the other students line up into evenly spaced rows, thinking that the MTIs might be impressed with them if they were to do that.
They did their best to stand like they were supposed to, though all of the instruction they had ever gotten was from old war movies, and they were all doing it horribly wrong, a fact for which the MTIs noticed and yelled at them for with great glee as soon as they noticed. Of course, they were eventually whipped into shape, standing in line in straight rows, heels together hands at sides, shoulders back.
He could feel his pants slipping, though he was too embarrassed to say anything.
Sgt Kimball stepped out in front of them, hands behind his back.
"What did I say!? Didn't I say we were going to have a fun relaxing day!? Are you having fun!?"
He was right in one of the recruits face, now bellowing almost at the top of his lungs. He moved onto the next student.
"Aren’t you relaxed!?”
Adam didn't think the kid looked particularly relaxed. In fact, he looked so tense, that if he squeezed any harder his spine was going to go shooting out of his ass.
"Well!?”
There was silence on the grounds.
"WELL!?”
Adam scrambled his brain not entirely sure what to do before squeaking out.
"Yes sir."
The MTI leaned in.
"Why don't you try and communicate in normal ranges of human hearing, son. I am not a bat!"
He looked back up at the rest of the group.
"WELL!?"
"YES SIR."
"That's better."
He turned to stalk away from Adam, pacing up and down the line.
"I will be straight with you when I say that today IS going to be fun and relaxing compared to what you will be going through in the next few years. If you manage to make it into this program, I promise you we will destroy your social life, you will have time for nothing other than this program and sleeping, if I decide to allow you to sleep, that is."
Adam was grinning.
Unfortunately, that caught the Sgt's eye.
"THE FUCK ARE YOU SMILING AT!?”
He waited.
Adam just stood there.
"ANSWER THE QUESTION GODDAMMIT!"
"Yes sir, sorry sir! I thought it was a rhetorical question."
"HEAVENS ABOVE HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL. I SAID ANSWER THE QUESTION!"
His mouth opened then closed,
"Er..."
"THE HELL KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT!"
"Um."
"Sweet Jehova did you come out this stupid or is it a family tradition, a side hobby?"
"I'm sorry sir, I forgot the question."
He lowered his head with an exaggerated sigh rubbing his temples,
"Forgot the question. FORGOT THE QUESTION!? I'VE MET GOLDFISH WITH BETTER MEMORIES THAN YOU! I SAID WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SMILING!?"
He blushed,
"Oh... Um."
"HURRY UP!!!”
"BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE A SOCIAL LIFE FOR YOU TO RUIN, SIR."
That seemed to take the man back, and he simply sat there, staring at Adam with a bemused expression.
*"If you were any more pathetic, smiley, I might just cry for you. Honest to god, if you get any more pathetic, I will cry real tears for your shame." *
He turned away.
"Now everyone get on the ground and give me FIFTY."
At least everyone seemed to know what that meant, though pathetically enough his arms were wobbling at twenty.
"JUMPING JUPITER RECRUIT, I DIDN'T EXPECT YOU TO MAKE ME CRY IN THE FIRST HALF HOUR. MY COUSIN COULD DO MORE PUSH-UPS THAN YOU AND HE'S GOT NO ARMS!"
The Sergeant seemed to have a lot of disabled relatives.
A blind granny, an armless cousin, a nephew with a pole up his ass from a tragic fishing accident.
By the time they were done, Adam was quite nearly ready to throw up.
"ALRIGHT FIFTY BURPIES GO,GO GO."
Oh no, anything but that!
He paused, but was almost immediately screamed at to get his ass in gear. He knew what was coming before it happened, but he couldn't stop it.
So he accepted his fate…
So long self worth!
As he jumped down into his first plank and then back up, he could feel the waist on his pants slipping, at first just a little, but then, as his feet left the ground there, they went right down around his ankles.
At first, he thought he was at least lucky to be in the back row, but then scrambling to pick his pants back up, he realized none of that was going to matter.
Sgt. Kimball was staring at him, cheek twitching.
He himself was blushing excessively.
He was quiet for a very long time before.
"CONTROL YOURSELF RECRUIT, THE LAST THING I NEED TO SEE IS YOUR CHICKEN LEG FLAT ASS KIDDIE JUNK ON MY TRAINING FIELD. Fuck, as small as you are I'll probably be indited for CP. Now go get some new fucking pants before you blind us all for a second time. And, since it seems you've never seen leg day, I want you to cluck like a chicken all the way there. Let everyone know the pantsless chicken boy is coming!”
He did as he was told, rose red the entire time and beat red on his way back, seeing as, they had given him the smallest size available in mens, so instead he had been given a pair of woman's shorts, which, due to the cut, tended to ride up in very uncomfortable places of his anatomy.
It was a very good thing he was used to embarrassment.
Or this was going to be a very long couple of years…
Hell even with being used to embarrassment this would probably be some interesting years..
[…]
Commander Adam Vir blinked and put a hand to his head, boots throwing up little puffs of dust in the Texas heat.
"You ok Commander?"
He sniffed at the air and took in a deep breath, hands on hips.
"Ah, the memories!"
”What are you remembering Sir?”
”Good times… good times…”
And with these words he stepped out of the hovercar, mumbling to himself.
”I wonder what’s up with Sgt. Kimball, is he still training new recruits? Maybe I’ll see him again…”
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

CONTEXT: My best friend and I have been having some issues lately. Since he got his new girlfriend he wanted there to be the boundary between girlfriend and friends, which the whole group agreed too because there were so many issues when he split with his ex because we all were besties with her.
Over time he's basically threw the boundary out the window with his current and wanted us all to be close and besties, I have never been keen, but I've been their as support sometimes if his current girl is having issues that he can't really be bothered to deal with (like petty girl drama at work etc, he thinks cos I'm a girl, I like dealing with that stuff... So wrong lol I hate it but he's my boy, I'll help where I can).
Recently I've bought it to his attention that she's not my best friend and I don't feel comfortable becoming besties with her just cos I'm a girl myself. I'm gay, I'm a lads lad. I stressed that i still think shes lovely and it would still be nice to see her on these occasions when we have our socials out and have a catch up, but just like you would with anyones partner. My dad loves my mums friends and really gets along with them at socials, but he ain't besties with them outside of that. He was offended and she was offended.
The reason why I bought it to his attention is because previously I had him and her corner me for something that wasn't even warranted.
we arranged to have a social but the month prior to it we were all busy so hadn't spoke, until we went for our social, and they admitted to crucifying me behind my back for not reaching out and that I should've and I was wrong that I didn't basically... But not once did they reach out to me lol so I was just doing life knowing I'll be seeing them at our social anyway so I was none the wiser, didn't even know there was an issue until they cornered me, and that made it clear, she was getting way too close to me because that shouldn't of even affected her enough to let wind her up and say those things with him.
It also made it clear that my boy had changed, cos hes never been like that, were all pushing 30 (except his girl who isn't mid 20's yet I don't think) and have busy work lives and lives in general, but that's a separate issue.
Anyway, she's majorly offended and so is he, am I the a hole?

Idea: a blog that could be kind of a guide on how to become a professional freelancer (like me) in my industry with topics like best practices, tools, resources, financial and marketing matters, lifestyle, and more. Everything that is nice/fun/you need to know. I'd make an Insta account as well.
There are too many English blogs about this industry and even more about freelancing, but probably not as many about both combined, so I know the content is relevant but this niche is saturated. I thought instead of getting a new idea, I could target a more niched-down audience. Since there isn't much info on this in my native language, maybe I could post in my language, targeting people from my country.
Target:

• Professionals already in this industry, transitioning from corporate job to freelancing (very common)
• Recent or soon-to-be graduates in this industry who'd like to start as freelancers or like/need industry tips
• Living in my country and/or speaking my language

Pros/cons:

• There is little competition in my language
• I can explore new and specific-to-the-country topics
• I can create a sense of community
• Statistically, people are much more likely to consume content and buy products from brands that communicate in their native language
• But it makes me think maybe people are not doing it because it's a bad idea... After all, anyone could come up with it, it's not out of the box, right? And the ones who are doing it aren't taking it seriously, posting once every 3 months or something

But why aren't they doing it/taking it seriously?

• We're a small nation and most people in this industry speak English fluently. Maybe newbies look for info in English?
• Maybe they do that because they know they can't find anything in their native language and I'd be solving that "problem"?
• Maybe the professionals don't want to invest time in a blog that won't attract clients, because they can't see the potential in turning their colleagues/soon-to-be colleagues into their clients? (mentoring, courses, workshops, (e)books, affiliate mkt, etc.)
• Maybe there's no such potential because there aren't enough of us in this country for this blog idea to be truly profitable? (seems unlikely but who knows)

What do you think? Am I overthinking and should just try it and promote it for some months? Should I come up with a new idea? What's your advice?

(I've had this concept for a while and wrote a few versions for the first episode, settling on this version, I haven't wrote a lot so would love feedback on this, I want to execute this idea as well as I can)
Mythicals Ep1: The world's worst thief
Narrator: Welcome to the continent of Nova.A continent made up of seven separate islands with each one of having its own unique,biomes,climates,properties and laws.But this continent isn't perfect.40 years ago a strange race called mythicals appeared.They were similar to humans in every aspect except one.They had strange abilities called Zanes.With these Zanes,the power went to the mythical's head and they tried to take over the continent,starting a race war between the humans and mythicals.The humans won the war through sheer numbers.Mythical population dropped 75% and are now discriminated and oppressed by humans.
A young man is seen running along a white stone road.He had short,straight,black hair,wide red eyes and pale skin.He had a dirty grey trench coat,a black shirt with tears in it,black ripped jeans and grey boots.
Narrator: Meet Hiroshi Kita,an 18 year old,down on luck,mythical thief.
Hiroshi turns around and spots three people dressed in medieval knight armour chasing him.He smiled and continued running,soon running into an alleyway,the knights running in and cornering him.
Hiroshi: Come on guys,can't we talk this out?
The first knight draws a sword and slashes at Hiroshi.Hiroshi's chest becomes transparent as the sword goes through him.His chest turned back to normal as the sword left his chest.
Narrator: Hiroshi Kita,his Zane is called Umbra.It allows him to turn his body into a shadow form,the only issue is due to not having much mastery over this Zane,he can only transform one body part at a time.
Knight 1: He's a mythical!
The second knight took out a large axe
Knight 2: This will knock my mythical kill count to 15!
The second knight swung his axe down but Hiroshi quickly dodged backwards,the axe slams into the ground.Hiroshi smiled and jumped onto the axe handle.
Hiroshi: Thanks for the help fellas
Hiroshi jumped off the axe and onto the first knight's head,then the second one and then the third one before jumping towards a window sill.The third knight pulls out a revolver and quickly shoots at Hiroshi's head.Hiroshi turns his head into a shadow before climbing through the window,turning his head back to normal.The knights look up at the window sill,knowing they won't reach.They start leaving.
Knight 3: Who's gonna tell Akuhei?
The other two knights put the fingers on the helmet where their noses would be.
Knight 3: Come on guys,when did we start doing that?
Meanwhile Hiroshi made his way to a sewer cover in a dark alley.He smiled and lifted the cover up before climbing in and closing the cover.He walked through the sewers before reaching a metal door.In front of the door was a giant man.
Hiroshi: Hey,Duke,you gonna let me in?
Duke looked down at him and shook his head
Duke: Only the best thieves in the continent are allowed in here and as we all know,you've been ranked as the worst thief in the continent,so unless you can get a big score,you're not in so scram.
Hiroshi sighed and started walking away,leaving the sewer.
Hiroshi: Asami might know something about a big score,they have connections all over the continent.
Hiroshi ran off and soon entered an abandoned theatre outside the town.He looked around and saw someone on stage with short pink hair,pink eyes,a masculine body and peach skin.They were wearing a white tank top and black shorts.Hiroshi smiled and jumped on stage.
Hiroshi: Hey Asami!
Asami smiled and quickly hugged Hiroshi
Asami: Hold on a sec,you only come here when you want something,what do you want?
Hiroshi sighed,smiled and scratched the back of his head.Asami gained an annoyed expression as they crossed their arms.
Hiroshi: Ok,to be completely honest,I need to know about a big score.
Asami: How big?
Hiroshi: Big enough to get me into the largest thieves guild in the continent?
Asami: Going big aren't we?Well I can only think of one place nearby…
They walked past him,transforming into a femine figure as they did,their voice becoming more femine as well
Asami: Would be the nearby Mythical Hunter's Headquarters but you wouldn't be mad enough to do that,right?Right?
Hiroshi: Thanks Asami!
He quickly ran away
Asami: He's gonna get himself killed.
Hiroshi located the Mythical Hunter's Headquarters and climbed over the walls at nightfall but quickly went unconscious before he could get over the wall.He woke up in a dark room with someone standing in front of him.They were tall with shoulder length brown hair,narrow green eyes and light brown skin.They were wearing a black tank top and grey cargo pants.Hiroshi was bound by rope at his ankles and wrists.
Hiroshi: Who are you?
Daichi: Name's Daichi Gushiken and you're staying here while I go stop the Mythical Hunters.
Hiroshi: But why did you capture me?
Daichi: Can't have a lowly thief like you getting in my way.Some of these guys are strong enough to topple towns.
Hiroshi: Then why fight them,just run!
Daichi: Because if they aren't stopped,they'll try to topple the human government.
Hiroshi: Won't that…
Daichi stared down at Hiroshi as Hiroshi's eyes widened in shock.
Hiroshi: That will start another war!
Daichi: Exactly, and now you understand why I need to stop them.
Hiroshi: But how can you stop them alone, do you even have a Zane?!
Daichi: Nope, I'm just a regular human.
Hiroshi: How do you expect to win against people with Zanes that could take down entire towns if they wanted too!?
Daichi: Well, I've got methods.If humans won the war against the Mythicals, why can't I beat one?
Hiroshi: The humans won through numbers!Everyone knows that!Try them on me and see if you win!
Daichi shrugs and unties Hiroshi. Hiroshi stands up as the both of them put their fists up. Hiroshi throws the first punch, aiming for Daichi's head. Daichi slides to his left before kicking Hiroshi in the back of the knee, causing Hiroshi to fall onto one knee. He then elbows Hiroshi in the neck, knocking his opponent to the ground.
Daichi: What's your name, thief?
Hiroshi: H-Hiroshi Kita.
Daichi: Well Hiroshi Kita, listen to this message from Daichi Gushiken. Stay away from Mythical Hunters unless you want to get hurt,so leave the saving to everyone else.
Daichi leaves Hiroshi on the floor as he leaves the room. Hiroshi clenches his fists before slowly getting back up a few minutes later, wiping tears from his eyes as he ran out of the room. Meanwhile, Daichi had infiltrated the Mythical Hunters HQ. He was sneaking through hallways as he took out any knights in his path, soon reaching a large wooden door and pushing it open. On the other side of the door was a large man, muscular build with crimson hair,narrow eyes, peach skin, and sharp pointed teeth, wearing black tracksuit bottoms.
Daichi: You're dying, Akuhei Heru.
The man turns around and smiles.
Akuhei: Well if it isn't the famous fighting champ. Come to try and take down the strongest fist fighter in Nova?
Daichi: Not only will I try, I'll succeed.
Akuhei: You think ye worthless human body with ney a Zane can beat me perfect form with the fourth most powerful Zane in the World?!
Daichi quickly punches Akuhei in the gut, causing him to stumble backwards.
Daichi: Never underestimate the power and dedication of the human spirit.
Akuhei: Ye be training, this should be interesting!
Akuhei swings his arm at Daichi and sends him flying into a wall, cracking the wall and causing books to fall off a bookshelf. Daichi falls to the floor and before he can get back up, Akuhei grabs him by the neck and slams him against the wall again. He lifts him up higher with his right arm as he walks over to a desk. He goes to swing Daichi down on it but Daichi quickly pulls a knife out of his pocket and stabs Akuhei in the arm. Blood trickles down Akuhei's arm as he drops Daichi. Daichi lands on the desk and looks up. Akuhei goes to slam his left fist down on Daichi. He quickly rolls backwards off the desk as Akuhei slashes it in half. Daichi stands back up only to see a fist flying towards him.
He quickly ducks as the fist hits a set of steel armour behind him, the punch flattening the chest piece. Daichi quickly grabs the sword from the set of armour and goes to swing it at Akuhei's right arm. Akuhei rips the knife out of his right arm and swings it at the sword. As soon as the knife connects, both blades shatter. Daichi stumbles back as Akuhei just steps towards him and smiles. Akuhei lifts both fists up and swings down towards Daichi. Daichi rolls to his left as the fists hit the ground, cracking it. Daichi quickly rips a piece of wood off the desk and stabs it into Akuhei's left arm. He quickly grabs another piece of wood and stabs Akuhei in the back of the knee forcing him to fall down.
Daichi (in head): This is my chance to end him!
Daichi quickly runs and shoulder bashes into Akuhei, making him over and falls out of a window, shattering the glass. Daichi slowly gets up as blood trickles out of the side of his mouth. He turns to leave when suddenly a piece of glass flies into his leg, Daichi falls forward and onto the shattered desk, causing some pieces of stray wood to stab into his shoulder. Daichi yells out in pain before looking out the window and seeing Akuhei climb through.
Akuhei: Did ye really think that I wouldn't grab onto an edge?!
Akuhei limps towards Daichi as Daichi tries to desperately crawl away. Trying to grab onto anything to pull himself forward. Akuhei grabs his leg and a red glow emanates from his hand. Akuhei's injuries heal before blood spurts out from Daichi's arms and knee.
Narrator: Akuhei Heru.His Zane is called Contagin! If he manages to touch anyone he can transfer any injury,illness or ailment to the person he touches!
Akuhei: Ye really thought ye could beat me!?
Akuhei lifts Daichi by the leg and throwing him through the doors he came in. Daichi lands on the ground as blood trickles out of him.
Akuhei: Ye are as foolish as ye are weak!
Hiroshi: Back away!
Suddenly Hiroshi smashes through a window and kicks Akuhei in the head, causing him to stumble back against a wall, his nose begins to bleed as he smiles and glares at Hiroshi.
Akuhei: Perfect,yet another lamb for me to slaughter!
Daichi: Run you idiot!
Akuhei throws a punch at Hiroshi's head but Hiroshi quickly turns his head into a shadow and the punch goes through. Another punch connects with his stomach which sends him into the air. His back hits the ceiling before he starts falling towards the ground. Akuhei smiles and quickly punches Hiroshi mid air and sends him flying down the hallway. Hiroshi lands on the ground and tries to slowly stand up, he was coughing up blood.
Akuhei charges at Hiroshi and quickly kicks him in the gut. Hiroshi slams into the wall as the wall cracks. Akuhei grabs Hiroshi and throws him in the air before sending a barrage of punches at him before grabbing his leg and slamming him into the ground. Blood trickles out of Hiroshi's mouth as he coughs.
Glass shatters and Akuhei quickly turns around. He sees a hole in another window and Daichi laying there next to it. Akuhei charges towards Daichi but something suddenly wraps around his leg. He looks down and sees a rope with a kunai tied around his leg. He turns around and sees Hiroshi still on the ground while holding the rope. Akuhei smirks and quickly swings his leg forward. Sending Hiroshi flying and out of the window in the room Akuhei and Daichi were fighting in as the rope snaps.
Hiroshi(in head): Is that it? Is this where I die? Not even getting close to my dream? I don't want to die here but I can't do anything to save myself, I'm too hurt.
Tears swell up in Hiroshi's eyes as he falls towards the ground. His eyes close as he feels himself land in someones arms. He can feel himself be gently placed on the ground and his eyes open slightly. His vision is blurry but he can make out the shape of a woman looking over him.
Hiroshi: An angel?
Hiroshi passes out due to his injuries. Meanwhile Akuhei gets surrounded by vines which pin him to the ground. The faint sound of footsteps can be heard and the vines vanish. Akuhei stands up and looks around only to see Daichi is gone.

“It’s not very iconic,” Jack mumbled to himself as he watched the frame of the newest variant of Crawler come together.
Though calling it a ‘Crawler’ was a bit of a misnomer, given that the vehicle didn’t actually crawl. Instead, it would move about on treads. Like a normal tank. Which, while practical, were rather boring to look at.
To make matters worse, Shui would be taking just over half of the iconic older variants of crawler that did actually crawl with her on her journey North. Doing so would allow her force to be entirely mechanized – or horseborne in the case of the cultivators – reducing a journey that would normally take months into one that would take weeks.
Plus, a mountain pass is actually a location where the mechanical legs might see some practical use, he thought.
Shui was certainly pleased about the extra support. While Jack wouldn’t go so far as to say she was giddy, there was certainly a degree of ‘pep’ to her steps as she rushed about the city organizing her new ‘army’. Even the mortal elements, which he got the feeling were normally an afterthought in these kinds of engagements.
She’d be taking fully one third of the militia that An had arrived with a few weeks ago. Ten thousand men and women. As well as fifteen cultivators – who Jack had made sure came from differing Sects. A move that would hopefully keep her from getting up to mischief by turning them against him.
Hopefully.
Ideally, he’d like to say that was why she was taking a contingent of homegrown Jiangshi ‘natives’ – for a given use of the word. The reality was that she was taking the militia because the alternative was a force of spear wielding sect troops, which would be like feeding meat into a grinder.
Which might have been just fine for the Empire, but mortals actually had some innate value to him. To that end, those sect troops still in the city – all fifty thousand of them - were going to be re-equipped and retrained as part of his new Ten Huo army.
Which was why five thousand militia members would be sticking around to train them in turn, while the remaining fifteen thousand returned to the very important task of guarding Jiangshi.
Which was a priority, given that An had all but stripped the province bare of soldiers to create her rescue force – and if they didn’t return soon their absence would be keenly felt.
Of course, this all relies on the Sects giving up their personal armies without a fight, Jack thought. Here’s hoping my most recent lesson in who holds the biggest stick will remain stuck in their mind when I make that announcement…
“Perhaps.” Elwin said from beside him, returning his thoughts to the mundane nature of his latest construct. Not that you’d know it from looking at Elwin. The elf’s arms were crossed as she watched with no small amount of awe as his workshop’s many pneumatic arms worked to bring the tank to life. “That will change though. I have oft found that the iconic nature of a soldier or weapon only grows with their success. And to hear little Lin go on about this machine, it will be very successful indeed.”
Jack hummed, conceding the point. Both Lin and Huang were down in his workshop with them – the two seemingly near inseparable these days for some reason – both huddled over a data-slate as they chatted animatedly about something related to the design.
They were a mismatched pair to be sure, but it seemed that Lin had chosen to take the former princess under her wing. Which was rather ironic, given that she was the goat-kin and Huang was the dragon-kin.
“Do you think Shui’s realized that she won’t actually be spending much of her time up north building her fortress?” he hummed.
“I would worry for her intelligence if she didn’t,” Elwin opined. “And the fact that she’s not battering down your door to demand changes to the manifest she’s been provided suggests she has.”
Jack hummed in agreement. He didn’t doubt that Shui had already noticed that her little taskforce was almost entirely devoid of building materials or craftsmen. Not that she’d want to be lugging stuff like stone or timber halfway across the province when there were plenty of natural resources at her destination.
Still, she’d want craftsmen trailing along with your supply chain though.
As well as nails.
To hear his advisor’s talk about them, you wanted nails by the barrel. To that end they had some. Gao, Ren and An had stressed that no army should ever be without things for even a moment, but they weren’t present in nearly the quantities required to build a mountain fortress like the one he hoped would soon block off the only remaining route into the province – if you ignored the ocean.
Which both Imperials and Instinctives were seemingly content to do.
No, the Pig-kin had probably known from the moment the plan was presented to her that Jack would be waiting for her to arrive at her destination before he flew over in his suit and built a fortress basically overnight.
That thought made him feel better about his decision to put her in charge of the job. It was an important job after all, sealing off the last ‘free’ entrance into his small empire.
I’ll probably want to head back to Jiangshi first to resupply basic building materials when I do head over there, he thought as he made a mental tally of what was currently floating around in his inventory. The thought made him sigh. The sooner I get a train network set up the better.
There was just so much that needed to be done…
He shook his head as he refocused on the task at hand, which was creating the prototype of the new Kang Barrel. A name that had created nothing but confusion for his underlings, but tickled his funny bone.
Not least of all because he hadn’t been the one to come up with the joke.
His microbots were. And while the fact that his microbots were currently capable of making jokes terrified him to his core, he couldn’t deny that they were good at them.
Because truth be told, he’d never wondered why tanks were called ‘tanks’. Though, to be fair, he never wondered why half a dozen other things were named as they were.
As it turned out, the reason tanks had been called what they were was because they’d been smuggled to Europe – or the irradiated zone as it was now known – disguised as water tanks.
Thus, Barrels had seemed an apt name for his own variant – even if no one but him got the joke.
Hell, that just made it funnier to him.
“So, how are things coming with your apprentices?” he asked the elf.
Smiling, the woman was about to respond when Ren rushed in, looking more frantic than usual. Which was a rather impressive feat given that she’d spent the last few weeks effectively running his city for him and was normally operating somewhere between totally overwhelmed and barely hanging on.
“Where are your formal robes, master!?” the merchant all but hissed. “I told you the ceremony would be starting in a few hours!”
Jack glanced over at a nearby clock.
“Ah… I knew I was forgetting something.”
Not that it mattered, he didn’t care what Ren said about tradition.
He was going in his armor.
--------------\
“With that, I present your new magistrate,” an older man called out to the crowds below.
The male cultivator was actually the oldest looking cultivator Jack had ever seen. The man was a craftsmen, a well respected one. And he was also the one who had been in charge of creating the staff that ostensibly controlled the city’s runic defenses.
And keying them to Jack.
Theoretically.
That wasn’t how it had gone down – and the other man had made it abundantly clear what he thought of this change in tradition.
Jack didn’t care then and he didn’t care now.
Which was why he ignored the other man’s stinkeye as he stood up from his throne and strode over to the balcony.
“The Empire has abandoned us.”
His first words were solemn, yet they rolled over the crowd below without trouble. A feat accomplished by a few carefully positioned loud speakers.
Which might have been why, despite the distance between him and the throngs of… not quite human mortals and cultivators below, he could almost hear the audible intake of breath that followed his statement.
Criticizing one’s superiors really wasn’t done in the empire, by virtue of the fact that said superior was usually your superior because they were entirely capable of lopping your head off. If they weren’t, you’d be the superior.
Again, certain parallels between the Instinctive hordes and the Empire leapt to Jack’s mind.
“The Empress has abandoned us. Time has dulled her edge. Corruption has infested her courts. Lethargy pervades her armies. And now, like an ape grasping for a branch as it plummets to its doom, the Empress pulls tight on her outer provinces in a desperate attempt to arrest her fall.”
It helped that what he was saying was mostly true. Or so he assumed. Because he’d yet to meet a system of power that wasn’t at least a little corrupt.
Silence was the only response he received to his words though.
Which, again, was to be expected. While the Empress wasn’t a ‘goddess’ in the religious sense of the word – the empire as a whole was surprisingly secular in that regard, focusing instead on something Jack would have described as Pseudo-Buddhism – she was also one of the founders of the Empire.
Again, not someone you criticized for long before you found yourself suddenly a few feet shorter from the top down.
Fortunately, Jack had a secret weapon.
“Yet Ten Huo only grows in power!”
That was the signal for the doors to the palace to open, and from them cart after cart of sizzling pigs, cows and whole chicken were wheeled forward. Prepared by the palace’s chefs, they’d done an incredible job with the task they’d been given. Even from his position up high on the balcony Jack found the smell intoxicating as it wafted up to him.
Fortunately, the line of sect troops guarding the front of the palace held steady as the crowd almost unconsciously surged forward at the sight of such a feast.
Really hope no one’s going to get crushed in that, he thought.
That was why he had a few cultivators on standby who would use directed burst of killing intent anywhere the press of bodies got too tight. The effectiveness of which Jack had been a little dubious of, but it was apparently a tried and tested method for ‘delicately’ dealing with unruly crowds.
Personally, Jack would have preferred to use his own troops, but Ren had quite reasonably pointed out that when it came to keeping crowds of agitated mortals in line, none were better than the personal armies of the sects.
…Or the Imperial army – but most of them were dead now.
That didn’t mean he’d come completely unprotected. His own troops had emptied out the palace of all courtiers and Sect guards hours ago in preparation for his speech. A feat that would have been impossible mere days ago, but it seemed that his little display to the Sect leaders had the effect he’d intended it to, because the cultivators present on the premises hadn’t even made a single peep of complaint as they were ordered out by a bunch of mere mortals.
Albeit, mere mortals who had An commanding them.
“We must cast off the shackles that have for so long held us back!” Jack announced. “This is not about power. Not about greed. Or pride. It is about survival!”
This time he got roars of approval – though whether that was down to his words or the food that was now being passed out to the crowd, he couldn’t say.
It didn’t really matter. It was about the optics of the thing. When people looked back on this moment, they would remember the cheering. And that would mean it had to have been a good thing, right?
“Ten Huo must grow. Must cultivate it’s strength. Must power through the troubles ahead,” he roared. “Which we have. Through our guards. Through our walls. Through our cultivators. And through our gonnes. Through those things we broke the back of the horde and slew their false dragon. And it is through the power of those things that we might beat back any foe that might threaten our home.”
He raised his fist high – and at the correct moment, his Red Dragon armor flared into being, the feathers atop fluttering proudly in the wind. “Ten Huo forever! Against all that might come! Together we are strong!”
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but that time the cheers felt more genuine. A chant even started.
“Ten Huo! Ten Huo! Ten Huo!”
“To that end, I intend to correct some of the failures of the old regime! Firstly, I shall be cutting the mortal guard force of our city’s sects down to one tenth their current size.”
That caused a stir, not just from the cultivators who were stood on the nearby pavilions, but from the rearmost ranks of the sect guard that were currently holding back the crowd while simultaneously handing out food.
Which made sense, he was currently discussing their livelihoods. The only thing that separated them and their families from the desperate crowds in front of them. Because while the city wasn’t quite close to starving as a result of the recent hostilities, it was true that a great many households were now tightening their belts.
Service in the Imperial Army or Sects provided some degree of protection from that reality.
“And from those men and women, I shall forge a new force. A grand Ten Huo army to rival that of the decrepit Empire. Well trained. Well armed. Professional soldiers. An expansion and revitalization of the Jiangshi militia that saved this city all those weeks ago.”
That seemed to silence much of the hesitation that had formed in the sect troops. The crowd though was all for it, whooping and hollering at the idea of more troops of the ilk that had so captured the city’s love with their arrival into it.
“I do this not out of contempt for the sects but out of love. With this I free them from the responsibility of policing the city. Of dealing with the mundane details of the mortal world. I free them to focus on their one true goal; the pursuit of cultivation and immortality.”
More importantly, it would make a coup significantly less likely to be successful later down the line. Or at least, less viable. Because as potent as cultivators were, they were still just individuals. They had more in common with fighter craft than infantry. They could take ground and destroy targets, but they couldn’t be expected to hold it without support.
Support Jack fully intended to cut out from under them while claiming he was doing them a favor. And while he could certainly see some idiots in the pavilion nodding along with the idea of ‘freeing themselves from the need to deal with mortals’, most of the leadership was rightly frowning at the thought of losing their ability to project power into the city.
Without mortal soldiers to form a buffer around them, they would effectively be besieged within their compounds.
Yet even as he could see them slowly considering raising some form of stink over it, he could also see them glancing over to the empty seat in their lineup where the Silver Paw sect might have stood.
No, they might make a perfunctory fuss, but they’d do as he told them. This was the ideal time for him to make a move like this. It was almost expected.
To be sure, he knew some would cause some form of trouble over this move, but that trouble would be a lot easier to deal with when he tripled the number of soldiers he had at his command within the city.
Down below, Jack could see the distant figure of Gao – and a small application of magnification showed the man was looking rather pale. Which made sense, given the massive task Jack had just slammed down in front of him. An, for her part, looked positively giddy about the whole thing. Ren just looked… tired and unsurprised, as if more work appearing on her lap was just to be expected where Jack was concerned. Elwin looked disinterested in the whole thing, which was par for the course.
Lin and Huang were… nowhere to be seen?
Huh, he thought.
For just a moment he was worried something might have happened, but a quick glance at the trackers attached to them – via some ‘gifts’ of jewelry – showed the pair were back at his compound. In the same room even.
Very close.
Probably caught up in some science experiment, he thought with a small smile.
“Yet what is a mortal army without a core of cultivators?” Jack continued. “Am I to demand a tithe from the sects that have already given so much? To both me and this city?” He shook his head. “Nay.”
He stretched out his arm, and with perfect timing a dozen figures dropped from the windows of the palace, landing perfectly behind the sects guards in a crouched position.
They were clearly cultivators – yet they didn’t look like them. For one thing, they were armored. From head to toe. Gleaming steel armor that was inlaid with protective runes.
It wasn’t as comprehensive as metal plate would be. Gaps existed to allow for great locomotion from the user. Yet it was still more armor than any cultivator would ever be caught wearing.
Because in the local parlance, armor was a sign of weakness. A lack of confidence in ones skills and cultivation.
Or at least, that had been the case until Jack showed up.
The next thing about them was that they were uniform. Perfectly so. Only the weapons were different. Some had glaives. Some had swords. Others axes. The only commonality there were the revolvers at their hips.
He didn’t doubt they looked absurd to the cultivators in the pavilions, each of them dressed differently to their fellows, with only a small adherence to their sect colors to mark their allegiance. Because cultivators didn’t do uniforms.
They were warriors. Heroes. Not soldiers.
Or at least, they weren’t, Jack smirked.
He raised both arms high above his head.
“I demand nothing of the sects, for volunteers have already shown up to be part of this great army. Ready to give their lives. Their souls. Their very identities to protect our great Ten Huo!”
Jack slammed his fist down onto the banister, letting the loud thud echo across the courtyard.
“I present to you, the Steel Paw!”
For the first time since they had arrived, the mystery cultivators stood up, their blue cloaks fluttering in the winds as they pulled back their hood to reveal not faces, but helms.
Helms shaped like a snarling tiger.
First / Previous / Next
Another three chapters are also available on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bluefishcake
We also have a (surprisingly) active Discord where and I and a few other authors like to hang out: https://discord.gg/RctHFucHaq

My dog, Hans is 9 years old. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor after having a seizure. The veterinarian recommended no course of action, since he’s already kind of old. Said that the best option would be to put him down when it becomes too much.
Fast forward a few weeks and Hans is now having seizures about once every 2 weeks.
How am I supposed to know when it’s too much? I have small children in my house and he’s unconscious during these episodes. He gets very rowdy when it’s over. Not to mention, it’s scary for everyone to watch.
I don’t think that I want to see him deteriorate further and risk an accident with my children but I’m also afraid that I’m pulling the trigger too quickly.
Any thoughts?

So, I (43) met this 30-year old female through a mutual friend and we hit it off. We actually had sex fairly quickly into the relationship. At first we used condoms but by week 3 we stopped.
We've been seeing each other for about 3 months and having sex oral/vaginal probably 2x per week.
She finally told me the other day that a married man she was dating in the recent past had told her he had HSV-2. She stopped seeing him but had had unprotected sex with him several times for many months. She then dated a second guy and he too told her he had been told by his ex that she had tested positive for HSV-2, but he has never been tested. She broke up with him, but had had sex with him 4 times (oral and vaginal). She also said she believes she has had HSV-1 for years as she get cold sores when she is stressed but has never had a HSV-2 genital outbreak. On top of that she also had been getting regular gynecological visits for HPV concerns.
She went and got tested. The results for HPV came back "in normal ranges with no heightened concern" and "positive for exposure to both HSV-1 and 2." She showed me the test, which I really didn't understand. It showed percentage values and they seemed pretty low. She also said her doctor told her HSV tests are not standard in panels because they are so unreliable. I think she is using this as an excuse to be in denial.
The only possible symptoms I've experienced was about 2 weeks after our we first started having sex I had maybe 7 very small blisters on my buttocks. They we not closely grouped. They were more in a line and I thought it was poison ivy or a rash from laundry detergent or sweating. The had no pain, no ulcers, no oozing and were gone in 3 days. No other rashes or blisters since. However, I now regularly feel as though my buttocks is slightly sunburned all over, but zero symptoms around my genital area.
She says the odds of me contracting HSV-2 from her is extremely low because she has never had an outbreak and isn't even convinced she has it because her doctor said the test only means she was exposed at some point to the virus.
I'm trying to decide how concerned I should be and if I should get tested. I've decided to not continue the relationship with her and won't get into another one until I feel fully informed.
Thoughts? Thanks.

Heyo!
I'm a member of TACG - Trans Anarcho Cat Girls. We're a gaming group of various lefty leaning trans folk predominantly playing Arma, but with smaller bunches playing games like VTOL VR, WARNO, HOI, SupCom, Stellaris, Victoria 3, Star Citizen, Rainbow 6 and a few others - some of us also play various VR games or some jackbox on an ad hoc basis!
Not all of us are Anarchist, communist, cats or even girls - the only real requirement to join is to be trans and friendly. The community was created a couple years ago because the group felt some gaming genres are just generally more toxic and dangerous for us, but still wanted to enjoy our hobby with good people. We're actively fighting bigotry, even when it hides behind gamer culture, hoping to create the safest online space possible.
Most gaming is self organised, so if you'd like to start a group to play a game you're absolutely encouraged to do so but we do run two organised Arma Ops a week on slots we call Eurasia, at 18:00 UTC on Mondays, and Americana, at midnight UTC on Tuesdays. Our ops are mostly loosely themed around being an anarchist, spec-ops, anti-corporate, direct action type organisation fighting oppression and conducting humanitarian action. Eurasia presently has an ongoing narrative and roleplay elements involved, too!
We're always looking for more people to join in, participation is always optional and there are no attendance requirements.
Beyond the games the community has more to offer. There are lively discussions of different topics from the banal to the political, from tech to health, and of course all sorts of games. It's valid to just join or stay to enjoy the community without ever engaging in gaming with others.
If you want to get an impression of playing with us, we have a reddit with some of our Arma exploits in it and a link to our discord server:
https://www.reddit.com/tacg/
If you have any questions, big or small, drop them below and I'll get back to you as soon as possible!

First of all, when you enter Dexs car at the start the door opens the wrong way.
When Guro pulls you out from the scrapyard he's a 100% honest to god Arasaka suit yet in the space of a few minutes he's being attacked by them, what happened in the car that made him a target?
As Corpo V you see Frank lead the saka suits to you at Lizzies yet when he calls later in game V initially sets out to help him, Surely a top brass counter Intel agent at arasaka saw Frank no more than 10 feet away from you.
When Jackie gets injured during the heist V doesn't try to help Jackie AT ALL, doesn't try to heal his wounds or better yet doesn't even look at the injuries or buy enough time for Jackie to reach a ripper in time, Mama Welles even says Jackie got shot 3 times in the chest and survived and can't help but think that would've been a worse injury, V is a bad friend.
When Vik checks V out at the beginning he installs a basic Kiroshi optic and low level ballistic processor and yet its €$21,000 ?
And finally, the one that really gets me, when Dex shoots you, Vik said you got lucky because it was small calibre shot however when you find Dexs body and get his gun it doesn't shoot bullets at all it shoots MONEY vik clearly pocketed the cash he pulled from your skull and wrapped a random bullet he had lying around into that chain misty gave you.
Amazing game though on my 3rd playthrough 😁

Hey there, hustlers. I thought I'd share a story that just happened to me, by asking your advice and potentially you helping me to understand what has happened.
Couple years ago, while traveling in Indonesia I met a guy, who was from the same small country in Europe as I am, who seemed like a genuine guy and who is a developer. We spent quite a bit of time and became I would say more or less friends. Since I work with business development and marketing and he does full stack development, he kinda mentioned to me that he want to build something together. Since he seemed a gunuine guy and a strong developer with over 10 years of experience and managing pretty big projects I thought that could be a good idea.
Some time after I got the idea of connecting AI + Dating, there are many advantages of this kinda app, won't go into detail but it was properly researched. When I presented that to him, he did like everything and we decided to move with it. He did mention that in like 3 weeks we could have the app up and running, at least for the MVP version and we did discuss that timing is important, so we should not waste it.
I was pretty excited about the opportunity, so started doing the work from my side, built branding, pitch deck, gathered lists of accurate influencers (hundreds of them), created approach strategies, extracted accurate VCs to target, found other people who wanted to help out, basically prepared all things neccesary for the soft launch and the fundraising part.
1 month have passed, there are not too many updates from the guy, the communication got slightly worse, he went to vacation with his girlfriend, then he got sick for a week, then he had a lot of other workd to do etc.
Now it's been nearly 3 months that have passed and he have ghosted me for 2 weeks straight, not replying, and not giving me any headsup if something is wrong, or if he does not want to continue or anything. Basically the last conversation that we had he mentioned that he got sick and he really wants to finish everything asap and will respond whenever he feels a bit better.
I was nothing but friendly in our conversations, even when he mentioned that he is being late for this and that reason, I do understand things change, some unexpected things occur and it's normal. But what is not normal, that he's ignoring me for weeks, and leaving me without a clue what's on his mind.
How do people act like that? Is he not man enough to tell if he changed his mind and I should move forward without him or what the hell might be going on in his head?

As always, thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe that is NoP
Thank you to u/cruisingNW for proof reading and helping me out of some hang ups, you're the man! And for letting me use Barry, Borven and Tarva (No relation)!
First Prev. Next
---
Memory Transcription Subject: Christopher A. Dewey, Human Merchant Sailor, Venlil-Human Exchange Participant
Date [Standardized Human Time]: August 24th, 2136.
The door to Suite 4006 didn't look all that different from the door to our bunk room, though the walls around it lacked the friendly atmosphere of the exchange areas; guess admin offices are bland no matter the species. Taisa was beside me trying to appear confident; I noticed she did that a lot. Originally I had thought it was for my benefit, to make me feel like she wasn't scared of me; but I wasn't so sure of that anymore. It seemed that any time she was in a situation that made her feel small or scared she did her best to puff up and push through it. It was one of the things I liked best about her; but that didn't mean I'd ever stop giving her shit for fainting.
"Taisa," I started, placing my hand on her shoulder, her tail curling a little and resting against the side of my leg. "It'll be alright, I figure they wanna ask some questions about what happened earlier. Verify reports, get the story first hand. That sort of thing."
She took a deep breath as her ears flicked at my statement and her tail swayed off my leg. I think that one means she understands, or maybe it's agreement? Still tryin’ to figure those out.
"We tell 'em what happened, get it all cleared up on our end, easy and free 'fore too long. Once we got their questions outta the way we can drop our little 'research idea' on ‘em and see where it goes from there." I squeezed her shoulder gently at the end, she beeped a little but seemed to puff her chest out with a little extra confidence.
"Here goes nothin'." I raised my hand to rap against the metal door, I assume I looked a fool when the door opened up before I actually managed to knock.
"Christopher A. Dewey and Taisa, I presume?" A Venlil in the door stated, keeping the two of us in the span of his left eye. "Come in, have a seat."
He maneuvered his way around behind the desk, sitting down in a chair next to a Human at a shared desk as Taisa and I got situated. "I am Borven, and this is Barry." He stated, introducing himself and then the Human with his tail. "We are the liaisons for the exposure program. I assume that you know why we called you in this waking?"
I nodded, leaning back in the chair. "I'd wager a guess it has something to do with a certain upset Ensign, a bunch of angry Humans and a... pawful of scared Venlil?"
Barry nodded, pulling something up on the pad in front of him. I figured it was probably the report drafted by the guard that questioned us. "We wanted to confirm your side of the story as reported by Officer Gentry and Officer Jaisle, would you mind?"
I motioned with my hand for him to proceed. "I'd be happy to."
“Very good. To start, can you verify that this record of your account is accurate?" Barry queried, handing the pad off to me.
I sat for a few minutes, reading through the report and follow up answers that had been written down. Taisa took the pad as I offered it to her, "Looks good to me."
A few minutes longer, “Yeah, me too. Although two of the Venlil that had hidden behind Chris are missing, A female with white wool and a male with black wool with gray striping. I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask after their names.” She corrected, handing the pad back over to Barry.
“Thank you, we’ll be sure to correct that error.”
Taisa's ears perked up as she beeped out a question, her curiosity from earlier evidently not satisfied, "What does the UN intend to do with him?"
"Well, that depends, do you still decline to press charges, Mr. Dewey?" Barry asked, setting the pad back on the desk as he tapped a button to confirm the report.
I shook my head, "Nah, he needs help, not a lawsuit."
"Then in that case I am not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation beyond confirming your account. I apologize." Taisa's tail lashed in what I figured was annoyance at that before she took a breath and steadied it.
A few more questions were leveled at us, asking about the mood in the room just before and after the announcement, what individuals we could remember that looked the most agitated and if we could identify any of the pairs that had departed before the shouting began. Then Borven struck on a question that seemed to give Taisa pause.
"Taisa, what motivated you to intervene and guide the Venlil hiding behind your partner out of the altercation? You could have risked a stampede and caused far more problems than you were solving."
Her ears drooped for a moment, her tail coming to a standstill as she thought over the question. “I saw people in trouble, saw Chris doing something and I just… I had to help. I didn’t really think about whether it would cause a stampede until after I had already gotten them moving. After that I tried my best to stay calm; I’ve read that people at the front of a herd keeping a level head is what can start or stop a stampede.”
Borven’s tail flicked as he tapped something into his pad before swiveling his ears towards Barry. “I think that covers everything I have, Barry, any further questions?
Barry shook his head, tapping away at the pad before setting it back on its mount. “I believe that’s everything that I need. Unless the two of you have any further questions yourselves, you are excused. Thank you for your assistance.”
Taisa and I exchanged glances for a moment. “Actually, we did have one question.” “As I stated earlier, Mr. Dewey, unless you wish to press charges I cannot divulge information with regards to the Ensign’s punishment or prospects moving forward.” Barry sighed. “Please pose your question with that in mind.”
“And I understand that, this is about something else.” Barry raised an eyebrow as Borven fixed a single eyed gaze on me.
“Taisa and I were thinking that we’d, in the spirit of the exchange program, like to run an experiment.” “An experiment?” Borven asked, refocusing his ears on Taisa. She flicked her ears at him and tapped me with her tail, prompting me to continue.
“Yes. We’d like to run an experiment on Human-Venlil Business partnerships; see how we work together. Taisa is a trained ships engineer and I’ve spent the last 15 years hauling freight, organizing and working merchant ships all across Earth. I’d need some more targeted flight training and familiarization with rules and regs but I’ve spent plenty of time in simulators at home.”
A few moments of silence hung in the room before Barry shrugged. “That’s not under our department's purview but I can get you two in touch with the two people you’d likely need to… convince of the feasibility of your proposition.”
“Thank you, Gentlemen.” I said, standing from the seat before turning to walk out the door behind Taisa.
As the door closed I heard Barry and Borven bickering about how many of the pairs were going to want to stay together in one way or another. They seemed like fun, if maybe a bit stiff. After a minute or two of quiet walking down the hall our pads chimed, indicating we had received a message: Barry and Borven notified me that you and your partner have suggested an experiment. Please report to Conference Suite 4185. Sent by Thomas Ashforth, UN Liaison.
It wasn’t a terribly far walk around the station’s outer ring to arrive at the conference room, only a few minutes.
“Alright… 4185 it is.” Taisa spoke up next to me, taking a deep breath as her ears swiveled back a little; she looked worried.
“Hey, don’t worry. We got this.” I soothed while patting her on the back; trying to put a little pep back in her step. “It didn’t get sunk in the bay so we’ve got a chance at least!”
“I know,” She took another deep breath, puffing her chest up as we stepped up to the door. “I’m just scared they’ll say no. Or worse, find a reason to split us.” “We’ll just have to make sure that doesn't happen. You won’t be rid of me that easy.” I joked, putting a small twinkle of mirth in her eye as her tail lashed about.
I saw a retort brewing but it was cut off by a stern voice from beyond the door. “Enter.” Both of us stiffened a little as the door slid open to reveal a room with a small conference table, 6 chairs in total surrounding it. The two at the far end were occupied by a man wearing a UN dress uniform and a small union jack pinned to his lapel, while a very… very small ice-white Venlil sat on a cushion atop the table.
“Please be seated, we’ve got a few questions about your experiment. My name is Thomas Ashforth.” Said the man, gesturing across the table.
As Taisa and I sat down the small Venlil began. “And I am Professor Tarva, no relation. I’m head of the Integration efforts. You must be Taisa!” Taisa returned the enthusiasm with a flick of her ears before Tarva turned her ears towards me. “And you must be Christopher! Protector blessed, you’re certainly the largest Human I’ve seen so far!” I nodded in return. “My friend here is coordinating the fiscal side of the exchange program. So, why don’t you two tell us about this idea of yours?”
I took in a breath to steady my nerves, Taisa’s tail coiling around my ankle helped motivate my voice forward that little bit more. “We know that the recent blockades have caused issues for Venlil prime, and while Earth may not need anything from Venlil prime to get by there’s a lot of people who I’d bet would want plenty. Taisa also tells me a fair few of the freighter captains are still ‘bolty’ about trading directly with Humans; neither Taisa nor myself have that problem. From what she has said there’s a lot of surplus ships floating around VPs shipyards waiting for trade to open up again. The experiment would be to acquire a smaller freighter for Taisa and myself to crew, command, and operate so as to gather a better understanding of how Humans and Venlil work together in a civilian ship environment as well as the operation of an enterprise. Plenty of research is going to come up for military applications but I think opportunities to gain information on Civilian settings will be few and far between for some time.”
“An interesting theory! But what extra information do you think we can get from a civilian vessel that we can’t from a military vessel? What you’re suggesting could easily be replicated within the logistics corps instead!” Her tail was swaying slowly as her ears stayed pointed directly at me.
“Chaos.” I said, simply, shrugging at the statement.
That seemed to catch her off guard a moment, her tail falling still before her ears perked up and her eyes came alight with a fire of interest. “And why exactly would I want to include chaos in my experiments?”
“Military ships, combat and logi, all have an inherent order to them, in combat or out of it. They are specifically trained for, and sometimes raised in it. Civilian merchants and shippers don't have that training, which means the operating conditions, stresses and strains on the crew of a military ship are different than that of a civilian ship. Monitoring how Taisa and I work together, our responses to those stresses and strains could provide valuable insight into future workplace ‘integration’ efforts.” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the table as I looked over her head, trying to avoid spooking her.
Despite those efforts, her favored eye bore into mine, before she changed her tactic and tried again, “Ok, so the idea has merit. But why should we get a whole ship for the two of you? Why not register you with a freight company and have you work with them as well?” She countered, a gleam in her eye as she focused on my face.
“Please point us to a freight company that won't make a stink about having a human pilot, let alone one my size. Even if you did find a freighter willing to stomach my presence that doesn’t change the fact that baseline interactions would be easy enough to find examples of, and could be done with any pair of applicants in any setting. What we are proposing is the examination of a joint business venture. Taisa and I have experience: I was the first-mate on my last ship, and Taisa is a Venlil-trained and registered ships engineer. These are the backbone of any ship, giving you a clean sample to get readings, uncluttered by other people”.
“That comes to another question. Why the two of you? There’s plenty of running freight companies we could organize this same exchange with, without having to dig up the money for a ship.” She retorted, despite the wording and my still… developing understanding of tail signals, I was pretty sure she was enjoying this.
As I mulled over the question, trying to think of the best response, Taisa spoke up from the chair next to me, her ears peaked straight up, a confident look in her eyes with a voice as sure as steel. “Because we’re here. You already planned on something similar or ‘integration’ wouldn’t be on the table. I’d guess that you’ve got pairs picked for all sorts of ‘experiments’, and business is just one part of it.”
Atta Girl Taisa! Said it better than I ever could.
Tarva opened her mouth for another question; if I didn’t know better I’d think she loved this kind of back and forth. But before she could begin Thomas’ voice drifted in and I was reminded of the sharp cold of the Bering Straits. “I’m very pleased you work so well together. But how would that benefit the program? Why should the UN invest in your… ‘integration’.” His eyes passed between us, like we were being measured for a casket, it was clear that wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
Flipping open a ledger, Thomas pulled a pen from his breast pocket, the motion felt like it carried more weight than the drawing of any sword. “Firstly, this, as all business ventures must be, has to be profitable. To you, to the program and to the U.N. until you’ve paid back your debt, and more. How do you intend to actually make a profit? Have you considered fuel costs? Maintenance? Registration? Permitting?” His gaze felt like it could turn me to stone, I hated accountants, near as much as lawyers.
Taisa seemed not to have such hangups, someone had been thinking. “Fuel costs would be negligible when compared to the overall short trip and high margins that could be made by hauling higher value cargo. Maintenance would be handled by myself, limiting costs only to parts. I doubt that we will be acquiring a fresh off the line ship, and I know my way around a scrapyard. Registration and permitting are firm plan-able costs that can be included within the operating budget since they come up at regular intervals.”
Thomas nodded, writing in his ledger before looking back up at us. “And what do you intend to actually ship? The most profitable ventures have a plan and a consistent schedule.” I sat up a little straighter, I wasn’t going to let an accountant send me running like a dog with my tail between my legs. “My experience is with Tramp freighters, sir.” The use of the term earned a look of confusion from Tarva and a slight sigh from Taisa, while Thomas was clearly familiar with the term. “Charging higher rates for a slightly less consistent schedule would make up for the irregularity. I am of the opinion that limiting what is hauled to one type, brand or item of cargo would, in this case, be a poor decision at such a small scale. Bulk freighters at home only work because of their scale and the guaranteed regularity, to make such a thing work for that kind of enterprise the U.N. would have to invest far more into the ship just to get the idea off the ground. Taking bespoke contracts for individuals, or groups of them within the same city or province, would allow us to keep a more flexible margin for each run. As well, I already have a few old associates on Earth that are likely chomping at the bit to open a trade route with VP.”
His eyes narrowed a little as he wrote in his ledger again, that infernal brass pen making notes I couldn’t see. “What guarantees can you give us that this will last? How can the U.N. be sure that in a month’s time this doesn’t blow up in our faces and we’re left with an old freighter, a diplomatic incident, and an empty bag?”
To my surprise Tarva spoke up on our behalf. “Christopher's Empathy test puts him in the top 5th percentile of those tested. Taisa has been searching for a job since she graduated, and from her application wants very much to avoid returning home for work, that coupled with Christopher’s registered work history and their obvious compatibility I think it unlikely the experiment will ‘blow up’ in the U.N.s face.”
Thomas’s eyebrows scowled, like his ledger insulted his mother. He laid his pen down with a sigh, “The U.N. Reserves the right at any time, during the period in which the debt for the ship has not yet been paid, to requisition cargo space. Christopher, you will be completing a mandatory course to bring your capabilities inline with UN or Venlil freight pilot standards, failure of this course is unacceptable.” He let the ultimatum hang in the air… then continued, “Taisa, you will be tested on how much of your education you have retained in your time since graduation, as well as your efficacy in this role. Finally: any and all damages, maintenance, modifications and or ‘personalizations’ made to the vessel, beyond what is required by both species’ workplace safety requirements, will be done at your own expense. The U.N. will not be liable for these costs.”
“These are the terms of our little venture. And they are non-negotiable. Do you accept?”
Taisa and I exchanged a quick glance before responding “Yes.” In unison.
“With that concluded, hard copies of your agreement will be provided shortly. You both begin your respective written portions tomorrow. Congratulations! I look forward to seeing your ‘experiments’ results.” Thomas chuckled the last sentence, breaking the accountant’s stony demeanor, maybe he wasn’t that bad.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “So, that means…”
“That means you’re approved.” Tarva beeped, her tail swaying happily. “We of course will need to work out your overall flight training schedule, lodging and a business plan but we can handle that. My counterpart here will need to source a ship, but none of that should be particularly difficult. For now, congratulations on your acceptance into the Integration program!”
I thought for a moment, weighing the last few days in my head, if there was something I could lay my head down under each night it would be that brilliant twilight sky. “What about Heartwood? For lodging, I mean; Taisa’s family lives there. She says it's a small town but I’m sure something could get worked out. Could also help with introducing the people there to Humans!”
Tarva paused, her ears swiveling in thought. “I think that could be arranged, if I remember correctly there is a small shuttle port there. Although I do want to make sure that you understand: rural communities are likely to be less accepting of Human presence, you will be met with some degree of prejudice. You may not get the welcome you’re hoping for.”
Taisa spoke up before I could respond, one eye focused on me while her ears were directed towards Tarva. “I think the people of Heartwood would come around. It might take a bit but if anyone could get through to them it’ll be Chris.”
I smiled a little, looking over to Tarva. “I’ve never met a farmer I couldn’t charm! I’m willing to give it a go, just gotta avoid gettin’ torched, apparently.” For the first time, for the briefest moment, that seemed to set Tarva off balance; Taisa did mention that Exterminators were a sensitive subject.
“W-Wonderful!” Clearing her throat, she regained her composure, “In that case we’ll see what we can work out. I’ll make sure to include an extra form for you to fill out to request any personal belongings you need from home! For now, though, I think the two of you should get a good rest, you’ve both got busy paws tomorrow!” She beeped excitedly and her tail swayed happily as she turned to Thomas and began discussing the arrangement.
Taisa and I took the cue and rose from the table, headed out the door, and walked back to the room in silence until the door to our space closed behind us; both of us releasing heavy held breath as it did.
“I can not believe that worked.” Taisa said, her tail wagging as she wrapped her arms around me. “We’re going to actually have a ship… I’m actually going to get to do what I trained to do, what I want to do.” I returned the hug. “We’ll both get to do what we want, but first we’re gonna have to get through those tests.” She giggled a little, the joy at the prospect evident in her voice. “We’ve got this, together.”
Confident as ever. I pulled her into the hug a little tighter.
“Together.”
---
First Prev. Next

I graduated university last year and currently live in Europe. I told my friends in North America, I'd like to come visit and so I made sure to plan my trip so that it fit in with their schedule. Now, unfortunately my 3 friends, two of which were my roommates, are all unable to accommodate my visit for a few nights.
I know it's not their responsibility to make sure I have a place to stay, but I don't have a lot of money and I spent quite a lot on my flight to go there. I would always make sure they'd have a place to stay at mine comfortably if they'd visit me in Europe. These were my best buddies in college. All of them had reasons such as having someone else stay at ours at the same time or their place is too small, so there wouldn't be any space. My only option is booking something now.
I literally asked one of my friends a few weeks ago if I could potentially stay at his a couple nights. He said he has to ask his roommate if it's okay. I received a message yesterday that his roommate is going to have a bunch of his highschool buddies staying at theirs at the same time, so I won't be able to stay there as there won't be enough space. Basically, that tells me that his roommate's highschool buddies have priority over me considering he just found out they were staying there at that time as well. I asked him 3 weeks ago.
Not gonna lie, I'm a bit disappointed. I'm a 23 year old male. I've never had to do this visiting friends. I'm literally staying for the weekend. It's a bit shit if I have to book a hotel for just myself. I'm genuinely considering not going, and instead, going elsewhere in the states to a friend's house where he says I'm welcome to stay at his as long as I want.

Reposting because a couple months have passed and I've seen discussion on it in other posts:
One of the main reasons for construction in the game is storing items. Everything from clue items, armor sets, to toys. But for a long time the skill has been completely lackluster and devoid of true purpose in this game. Short of a rework which I hope will be included in the 2022 roadmap, I would like to see an update similar to how the aquarium was released, but with more use for storage. Many of you may think that we have enough bank space to play the game and you're right, but the use of more storage will be to give collectors, the feeling you get when you complete an achievement. Every time one of these POH storage boxes gets filled it gives a little shot of dopamine, adding more is good for the game and good for the players who are always seeking more sources for their addiction.
I am of the opinion that there should be an update to the current POH to include many new items. And if possible also create two new rooms, one called 'Armory' which would store many items that aren't really costumes, and display hall, which would be a rework of the current skill/quest halls to allow more storage per square room. This would allow us to collect many more cosmetics that are untradable, and even some that are tradable and we'd just like them not to take up our bank space.
Before any of that though some things a little out of date, for examples;-The cape rack doesn't include the new Zuk capes, it'd be nice if it included 1 of each type IN ADDITION to the kiln capes (so you can have both and not either or) -In the armor case we are unable to store different sets of castle wars armour. We should be given space to store one of each set. -Similarly it'd be nice to be able to store one of each team cape rather than just a single one. -The clue tab is lacking all the clue rewards, namely the 3a/2nd age items.-You cannot store both pants and skirts
Moving onto the armory here's a small compellation of items I have off the top of my head that we have little to no use for in an end game's bank but would be fun to collect.
Weapons rack:

• Ceremonial swords: Currently there are a total of 50 ceremonial swords, all purely cosmetic versions of iron->rune swords. It'd be nice to be able to collect these and not waste 50 bank spaces!
• Necromancer's staves: There are currently 18 different skeletal and necromancy staves.
• Limitless staves: There are 7 limitless staves, similar to other clue items they should be storable in the POH.
• Penance trident: Reward from Barbarian assault, but nobody would buy it. We already have the other penance gear in the armor case so why is this being excluded?
• Greater Runic staff: Maybe some irons still use this? I'm unsure if it's still part of new iron journeys or not. But it'd be nice to be included.
• God staves: We already have the capes on the cape rack.
• Staff of Armadyl/Camel staff: Two difficult to obtain items, which would be nice to have in storage.
• Staff of light/Ancient staff: There are a bunch of loyalty point recolors for both of these items, similar to the Robin hat and top hat which both have space to store one of each.
• Mage Training arena weapons: We have Infinity in our magic wardrobe, it'd be nice to also store one of each wand/book.
• Demon slayer crossbows: No real use, we have the demon hunter set already in the armor case.
• Ivandis flail
• Dung weapons chaotic/gravite
• Ports weapons: We already have the armor

Armor case:

• Achto: We can store port armor but not Achto?
• GWD1 gear: Non degradable, why not?
• GWD2 gear: would be nice to collect
• Slayer mask and it's components
• T85 tank boots/gloves: No real use nowadays, would be nice to have them in the bank. Also having t90 boots alongside would fun.
• Gemstone outfit
• Dragonstone armor
• Spirit shields
• Attuned crystal armor

Other random items:

• Flippers
• Mudskipper hat
• Gnome scarf/Goggles: Would be neat to have these in our costume room fancy dress box
• Crab helmet
• Crab claw, Crabclaw and hook, and Pirate's hook
• Pogo stick
• Robin, Treasure map, Pinata's, etc
• Task set
• Jewelry box to hold ASR, Vigour, DKS rings and their upgrades, Lotd, blood necklace set, Dungeoneering necklaces, Dragon rider amulet, Shark necklace, Leviathan ring, Seren's symbol just to name a few.
• Scriptures need to be added to the bookshelves
• Book of death should be added to the bookshelf
• BA insignia's should be added somewhere
• Blood essence ^

Finally I think it'd be amazing if we could have a display hall. These can be single rooms chained together to make a hall displaying many things in the game, from armor sets (for example the wilderness armor), to heads mounted on the wall (the skill hall/quest hall aren't really enough to display everything.
Extra idea from u/ J00stie to allow us to store partial set pieces rather than require the entire set. And to build off of his idea it'd be nice to store multiples as well, so instead of having a giant clue tab taking up hundreds of spaces, you can just have them all in your poh.

My grandpa is 89, and about 11 years ago he lost my grandma. Sometime later he started dating someone who kept him company but lately we're afraid he's going downhill too quick and think he has dementia. Issue is his girlfriend keeps canceling the dementia appointments. She's 90 herself but the family is thinking that the GF is afraid of losing her independence too if grandpa gets his license taken away.
So I guess I wanted to list out things my grandpa has struggled with to see if other redditors agree that we could be looking at dementia vs normal forgetfulness.

1. Usually asks the same question a few times in a conversation or more (eg asking cousin how old he is, where he's living, etc during breakfast)
2. He doesn't talk alot, his girlfriend tries to do the talking for him I've seen. Grandpa is quieter these days, started after a series of ministrokes a few years ago
3. He's completely forgotten when grandma died, he's convinced she died in 2007 when it was 2011 even after my cousin and I corrected him a few times
4. Has had multiple small fender benders while driving
5. Has long struggled with forgetting appointments and to take medication if not reminded

We're trying to get a dementia test scheduled ASAP since the GF has him driving to Florida in January with her and operating a Kubota tractor on her farmhouse but just trying to get feedback before we go down that road

Hey founders,
I'm digging a lot into SaaS pricing lately and I realized something ridiculous...
Startups change their product & marketing strategy every month.
Yet most companies (big & small) adjust their pricing once every 3 years.
Then when you cut the bull---- you realize that's the main reason why startups fail:

• They're bootstrapping and can't get enough revenue to get funded
• They're funded and still run out of money

Why? Because they don't find the right pricing & monetization strategy.
Why? Because they set a price and never think about pricing again.
Why? Because they lack pricing expertise and leave it for last. Until it's too late.
True, pricing is its own art & science and not everyone is an expert. Even if you're lucky enough to have a pricing expert on your startup team, they still need time, data, and experimentation to find the right pricing strategy.
I think now is the most important time to think about pricing because:

• The economic downturn and market shifts are making companies shrink their budgets
• Mass layoffs, no-code, and AI enable more people to launch new products tonight
• The right monetization unlocks sustainable growth, attracts the right buyers, and helps you build the product around the pricing strategy so you scale profitably.

You've probably heard this quote:
"1% improvement in monetization unlocks over 12% in profitability."
Still, even if you choose to focus on pricing, how do you do it? Where do you start?
Having the data is one thing, but it's definitely not enough.
I believe the truth lies on your pricing page. It's the 2nd most visited page on your SaaS website and it's the place where the buying decision happens.
Trouble is that building pricing pages that sell isn't the easiest thing. You still need to know a lot about pricing to do it right.
Well, the best way to learn is by doing.
I believe an easier way to build and iterate beautiful pricing pages is a great first step to making founders and startup teams think more about their pricing and be proactive in finding the right pricing strategy.
Having an easy way to test out different monetization models such as feature-based pricing vs usage-based pricing is the best way to figure out what works.
So my question to you guys is this:
Would you use a product that helps you build pricing pages faster, test multiple pricing strategies faster, and start driving more revenue earlier in your startup journey?
I'm working on an MVP for this right now and I'm validating the idea at the same time. Would love to hear your thoughts!

Hi everyone!
As title says, I'm gonna give another chance to the albums I like the least. This is the first of the the three other posts I'm going to write, as the albums I'd like to review are Origins, Evolve and Mercury Act 2.
Today I begin with Origins, not for any particular reason, but just because it's the albums I've been listening lately.
Here, I write a small review for each of the tracks and at the end I decide my final "verdict".
Also, don't take this review too seriously, as I won't go too much into technical details and I'd like to write something funny.
So, let's begin!
Natural: Among the other tracks, I think Natural works well as the album opener. I truly was into this song when I first discovered ID but now it feels to me a bit formulaic and shallow in lyrics. Overall, it's not that bad, but I've just got used to that sound.
Boomerang: It's the track that opens up to the "Origins Vibe". Many other songs from this album have these syncopated drum beats. I like how they've tried to be modern by experimenting with drum samples.
Machine: That's the track I considered to be one of the "rock songs" from Imagine Dragons, but I guess that my idea of rock music has changed over the years. Rhythmically it sounds like "We Will Rock You" by Queen, and that's probably the case considering that ID have always tried to make the definitive 21st century arena rock anthem. Lyrically it's as "edgy" as other lyrics I've heard from other modern pop-rock bands like Twenty One Pilots and so on. Definitively, it's not one of my favourite from that album.
Cool Out: I'm not as a pophead as I was before, but honestly it doesn't sound to me that bad. It's not the song that can revolutionize the pop music scene, but it feels... fresh (no pun intended). The production is pretty good for this kind of pop music and the drum samples are pretty unique. I'd rather listen to this kind of music rather than a generic pop-rock song that tries to be edgy.
Bad Liar: Ah, yes. The popular one. This is the song that made me discover ID. The production is coherent to other songs from this album, and that's good. At the end, it's another self-blaming ID song with pretty lame lyrics, but I must thank this song and radio stations for making me discover this band.
West Coast: It reminds me of some acoustic songs from Avicii and I bet my life. It's ok, but it's not the strongest track from the album.
Zero: Ah, yes. The Disney one. But honesty, it's not bad! I can definitively hear some reminisces of the old post-punk revival ID in there! I also love to listen to an ID song with this high-level professional production. Perhaps I'm crazy but, probably due to the drums, it also sounds like one of those post-soviet songs but just slightly overproduced, ahah. Would I listen to this song on my own? Well, no. But it's actually a funny song!
Bullet In A Gun: This song unveils Dan Reynolds' hip-hop background. It's essentially a pop-trap beat with lyrics about celebrity issues and how people have high expectations of them. It's not that great in my opinion, but they've tried to be experimental.
Digital: I don't get what's the purpose of that song as it sounds like a demo for the Ralph Breaks the Internet soundtrack which didn't made out. I can say that it's pretty experimental and the "they been saying the same thing" bridge somehow sound like a Radiohead song from the In Rainbows era? I know it's a strech, but I can hear that they've tried to bring something unique.
Only: Like I said for Cool Out, this is another fresh pop song from Origins. I would have loved this if I found it out during my EDM phase. The production it's yet again very polished and Ben's bare ass worked out pretty well!
Stuck: Omg, how's this possible. I know it has become a cliche, but this sounds to me like another 🌈 ID Children's music song 🌈. No, I'm not crazy, take a listen to this italian children's music song and you can find out that it's virtually similar to Stuck. They're even both in F Major and 115 BPM! Please, don't mind too much, I'm just a crazy listener with weird life experiences...
Love: It's just a generic love song called... "Love". Probably that's the beginning of the cheesy ID phase in MA1 and MA2. What a unique song title, btw.
Birds: Ohh, that was my song! This is instead the song which unveils ID morbid obsession with death. The production is yet again coherent with other songs in Origins. I also like the animated music video they made for this song.
Burn Out: I love the rythm of the piano and these kind of fooley samples truly makes this album. Lyrics are also quite interesting though.
Real Life: It didn't grow up on me and it was also the hardest one to review. It's another upbeat Imagine Dragons song about loss of faith and personal relationships.

The verdict

This is probably the most experimental album from Imagine Dragons along with Mercury. It's a coherent and fluid album but, although it could have been an interesting release, this kind of experimentation hasn't took off the stigma of generic radio songs that ID suffer from.
Overall, for me it's a 6/10 as there some tracks which have surprised me positively.
Next time, I'll try to reconsider Evolve and see if it's really as bad as I remember it to be. So, see you later!

Short Synopsis
A young boy with an interest in local history and cemeteries learns about life and the value of friendship when he meets a child named Peter in the local cemetery that may not be all that he seems.
•
When I was a kid I had a fascination with graveyards, burial grounds and old churches. I wouldn’t call this a morbid fascination but more of a learning place for a kid of the age of 5 or 6 to explore death and what it means to be remembered by loved ones and friends. As this fascination grew it lead me to the study of local history which would become a keen interest for the rest of life.
My great uncle Tom, who was a mountain of a man as he had worked all of his life as a miner in the local pits, encouraged this interest I had shown in history and at my behest, after Uncle Tom picked me up from school, we would often take long walks with his mongrel dog Tina around the local cemetery. The cemetery was scattered around the large hillside of the local church on the hill. The church cut quite an imposing presence in the small village I grew up in, as it seemed to loom over the whole place sitting high above the rows of houses, local pub and farms. Everyone in the village attended the church at least a few times a week, but at night it was considered a spooky place to the children in the village and my friends considered me very odd and often ridiculed me for my interest in the place and I gained the affectionate nickname Spooky Steven. This wasn’t a bad thing, it was just kids playing around and now we are all grown, we often all sit together having a pint in the local pub and laugh about it. I had my fair share of pokes of fun at them too when we were kids, there was no Internet or game consoles back in those days, so entertainment was what we would make it.
The church was ancient and had gravestones and markers now crumbling with the decay of age that dated as far back as the Anglo Saxon period of Great Britain. This history always fascinated me and it became a common practice for me to head to the graveyard, most often alone in my youth, and make grave rubbings to find names from the past and look them up in the local archives at the town library. This small library was full of old documents such as land registry papers and birth or death records which dated back for hundreds of years, it was like google before computers. I would spend hours in there till closing time at 6pm, looking through all these ancient records and when names came up again and again in certain papers, you could slowly build up a picture of someone’s life. You could see when they were born, who they worked for, who they married and how their lives progressed, most of the older papers ended up with people inheriting land or buying farms and making their way as countryside workers, it was enthralling to me. I think it made me realise early in my life, that if you say someone’s name aloud or read it, that person’s memory is still alive. Even at a young age I found that rather comforting.
Listening to this I’m sure you can imagine I was a bit of a loner, you don’t get the nickname Spooky Steven for being the captain of the football team. No-one was ever cruel to me or anything, I was bullied a little for being different and that was upsetting at times but I wasn’t bothered and I always just kind of did my own thing, so you can imagine I was happy when at about 12 years of age I found a friend who was interested in the same things as I was.
One beautiful summer afternoon while in the graveyard among some shady ancient oaks swaying in the breeze, I was taking some graphite rubbings in a particularly old part of the cemetery and I meet a boy named Peter. Looking back it’s strange that I didn’t know Peter from school, but you don’t think about these things at a young age. When ever I was in that part of the cemetery Peter would often turn up unexpectedly and talk to me about what I was doing and why I was interested in these old names from the past. He was full of information and seemed old for his 13 years, he talked about a lot of the old names on the gravestones as if they were still living. He would tell me about Mr Jones the welsh baker, who spoke with such a strong accent that he was hard to understand and how John Blakley the blacksmith would often let the local children into his shop and teach them how to use the kilns and pay them a small wage for helping him keep the fires burning good and hot. I checked out all of these people that Peter talked about in the library and they were all legitimate people who had lived in the town often hundreds of years in the past. I didn’t question this as Peter would have access to the same documents from history that I did, but I had never seen Peter in the library and I was there most afternoons.
On another occasion Peter told me that he was made to leave school and work from a young age because his father had died in a farming accident, so he had been put to work to help support his family. These times I met Peter we’re all in the late 1980’s and early 90’s and it was only when I began to get a little older that I started to think Peter was not from around here. There was no way a boy of 13 years old would be allowed to work at the hard labour Jobs that Peter talked about doing. Drystone walling or working in the fields are highly dangerous jobs that deal with heavy equipment and chemicals that a child of that age would never be allowed to use in this day and age. But, still I thought nothing of it at first, my young ego thought that maybe he was trying to impress me so I would be his friend. I started to ask about him at school amongst my friends and then the teachers and no-one knew who this boy was. I was again ridiculed for having an imaginary friend so I took a bunch of school friends to the church yard to meet him, but he would never show when I was there with other people. This became very frustrating, so I stopped talking about him.
After about a year or two of meeting with Peter on a few different occasions in the cemetery, I began to notice things that were odd or different about him. The clothes he wore seemed old fashioned and unlike me he didn’t seem to be getting any older, at that age kids grow at an accelerated rate and I was already almost a whole foot taller, but Peter had remained the same. On the last day I saw Peter in those years I questioned him about his clothes and the way he looked and he took great offence to this, his eyes welled up and tears began to roll down his cheeks. I told him I was sorry and that I wouldn’t mention this again, he then said to me some words that I will never forget “Its ok” he said through his tears “It’s been my absolute pleasure to spend this time with you. Just do me a small solid and say my name every once in a while when you are here, I’d appreciate that” he then smiled at me in a way that breaks my heart when I remember it and walked away into a shady part of the cemetery and that was the last time I would see him as a child.
By the time I was around 16 years of age the local historian knew me by name and we had developed a friendship and she began to tell me stories from the past which were not written in any of the history books. Some of the stories she told me were spooky ones about hauntings and other strange paranormal stories of local legends. Because of this interest she had and the passion with which she told me these tales of local occurrences, I felt comfortable enough with her to mention Peter. Her eyes lit up and she asked me to please tell her more. I told her everything and we stayed together well passed closing time looking up names and histories of local residents but we couldn’t find anything about about a young local worker named Peter, however we did find information in a record about the death of a local farmer in his 40s who was crushed in an accident with his wheat plough in the summer of 1889. The strangest part of the story is still to come.
Later in life when I turned 18 I was a regular in the village pub and became very friendly with the landlord and often did shifts in the bar serving in the evening to help pay my way through college where I took a bachelor’s degree in history. In the summer for extra pay the landlord asked me if I were interested in clearing out some of the old attic spaces to get the place ready for an extension that they were going to build. The extra money was welcome so I agreed and that is where the most amazing thing happened. Amongst all the cobweb ridden stacks of books, papers and a wealth of old furniture I found a framed portrait from a very old 1890’s camera. The picture was of a boy laying dead on a bed of flowers on one of the big old wooden tables in the pub, it was Peter. I rummaged around and to my amazement I found hidden in the back of the frame an old newspaper clipping about the death of a 13 year old chimney sweep named Peter Robinson. I was not afraid, but the revelation came as more a relief to know that perhaps I wasn’t crazy and that Peter had reached out to me from somewhere beyond our own understanding of this world. I chose not to mention this to anyone as Peter had never shown himself to anyone else and it felt it would have betrayed our friendship that had occurred in those early years of my youth.
A few weeks later I found myself drawn back to that shady part of the church on the hill amongst those ancient oaks and mossy gravestones with bottle of beer in my hand. It was a beautiful day, there was a gentle breeze and the crickets, birds and insects chatted in the gentle afternoon, just like those summer days I had spend in this place as child with my Uncle Tom and Tina who were now themselves long since departed. I rose the bottle of beer in the air and said Peter’s name out loud and for a brief moment, from the corner of my eye I thought I saw the flicker of a boy standing in the distance in the summer shade and a smile spread across my face. That day I learned a lesson for good, that if we think of those who are dead and gone and remember them out loud they will live on and never be forgotten.
The End
Written By John Renney