Semi truck cad block
Passing Semi Trucks
2024.05.16 02:33 LovesPinkJerna Passing Semi Trucks
Hey, So I’m a new rider and I don’t have much time on the highway yet (mainly just parking lot practice) I’ve heard a lot about “bracing yourself” before passing a semi truck.
What is it that occurs exactly? Is it a gust of wind? does it matter which lane position you are in when passing them? Is there anything i can do to prep or prepare for this encounter?
submitted by LovesPinkJerna to motorcycles [link] [comments]
What is it that occurs exactly? Is it a gust of wind? does it matter which lane position you are in when passing them? Is there anything i can do to prep or prepare for this encounter?
2024.05.16 02:32 LovesPinkJerna Passing Semi Trucks 1st Time
Hey SakiSiblings,
So I’m a new rider and I don’t have much time on the highway yet (mainly just parking lot practice) I’ve heard a lot about “bracing yourself” before passing a semi truck.
What is it that occurs exactly? Is it a gust of wind? does it matter which lane position you are in when passing them? Is there anything i can do to prep or prepare for this encounter?
submitted by LovesPinkJerna to Kawasaki [link] [comments]
So I’m a new rider and I don’t have much time on the highway yet (mainly just parking lot practice) I’ve heard a lot about “bracing yourself” before passing a semi truck.
What is it that occurs exactly? Is it a gust of wind? does it matter which lane position you are in when passing them? Is there anything i can do to prep or prepare for this encounter?
2024.05.16 02:31 NarrowEducation832 My RS3 didnt start Sunday... and now "needs a new engine block" – thoughts/advice?
Tl;dr: I have 3200 miles on my 2023 RS3. Tried to start her Sunday – full failure, every warning light, and electrical blow out basically. Dealer advised I'll need a full new engine block
––
Okay so after seeing a few posts on here with relatively new RS3's needing some crazy services I wanted to get your guys advice.
My 2023 RS3 is very low mileage (3200) and I take immaculate care of her, yet somehow I go to start it Sunday morning to go take my mother out for mothers day brunch and was met with an ignition jolt, every warning light going crazy, cycling through every warning message ("transmission malfunction, brake failure, etc), wheel lock, electrical flickering on MMI, and so forth. Basically the car was fully bricked.
I assumed it was maybe just the battery being dead or something normal given the cars excellent condition.
Called Audi – tow guy came and after a while managed to (after some struggle) bring her back to life enough to get her on the truck. Took it over to my Audi dealership that is one of the better ones in the states as far as mechanics go, and after 3 days of diagnostics they have still yet to find the source of the issue.
What they did find however was that the battery was full fried and contaminated the entire engine, fuel line, and oil – i.e. there's glitter throughout the entire car. Waiting for the full report tomorrow but he said the likely next step is to replace the entire engine and fuel lines following Audi's assessment and so forth...
Granted it will all be covered by warranty and so forth, what would yall do here? Given that they will have to replace the entire block, my car value is clapped and the likelihood of downstream effects is higher – what would yall do in my position?
Really value all of your guys insight here! Thanks <3
Edit: thank yall for the support!
submitted by NarrowEducation832 to Audi [link] [comments]
––
Okay so after seeing a few posts on here with relatively new RS3's needing some crazy services I wanted to get your guys advice.
My 2023 RS3 is very low mileage (3200) and I take immaculate care of her, yet somehow I go to start it Sunday morning to go take my mother out for mothers day brunch and was met with an ignition jolt, every warning light going crazy, cycling through every warning message ("transmission malfunction, brake failure, etc), wheel lock, electrical flickering on MMI, and so forth. Basically the car was fully bricked.
I assumed it was maybe just the battery being dead or something normal given the cars excellent condition.
Called Audi – tow guy came and after a while managed to (after some struggle) bring her back to life enough to get her on the truck. Took it over to my Audi dealership that is one of the better ones in the states as far as mechanics go, and after 3 days of diagnostics they have still yet to find the source of the issue.
What they did find however was that the battery was full fried and contaminated the entire engine, fuel line, and oil – i.e. there's glitter throughout the entire car. Waiting for the full report tomorrow but he said the likely next step is to replace the entire engine and fuel lines following Audi's assessment and so forth...
Granted it will all be covered by warranty and so forth, what would yall do here? Given that they will have to replace the entire block, my car value is clapped and the likelihood of downstream effects is higher – what would yall do in my position?
Really value all of your guys insight here! Thanks <3
Edit: thank yall for the support!
2024.05.16 02:29 Slight_Insurance_259 Israelis block aid bound for Gaza: Delivery trucks burnt and food aid destroyed
 | submitted by Slight_Insurance_259 to worldnewsvideo [link] [comments] |
2024.05.16 02:08 Figuarus [OT] The Things We Left Behind.
This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.
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Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.
2024.05.16 01:56 justplainoldthrowawa Person won’t remove 2 of his vehicles from my land
I’m going to start off with saying that this is in Texas and I will appreciate all advice I get.
Bit of context first: I have a personal mechanic that comes to my house and helps me with my semi trucks, cars, machines, etc. known him for around 3-4 years. One day he asked me if he could leave his truck parked on my land for 2 months and he said he will have someone pick it up and I would get some discounted repairs and free repairs depending on the issues for the trouble. I let him do so but after the first month he brings another car without saying anything while I was gone and leaves it on my land as well but I didn’t say anything because I have the space and thought it would also be gone at the same time that the truck would be.
It’s been 5 months now since his truck has been here and now he isn’t answering any calls or messages from me and I haven’t had contact with him now for 2 months. My question is can I somehow get in legal trouble if I get his vehicles towed away or should I do some type of report to the police or anything? I was fine with just 2 months because I would get some free and discounted repairs if anything came up but it’s been 3 months over what he said. What would be my best options? To mention it as well, we didn’t put anything in writing
submitted by justplainoldthrowawa to legaladvice [link] [comments]
Bit of context first: I have a personal mechanic that comes to my house and helps me with my semi trucks, cars, machines, etc. known him for around 3-4 years. One day he asked me if he could leave his truck parked on my land for 2 months and he said he will have someone pick it up and I would get some discounted repairs and free repairs depending on the issues for the trouble. I let him do so but after the first month he brings another car without saying anything while I was gone and leaves it on my land as well but I didn’t say anything because I have the space and thought it would also be gone at the same time that the truck would be.
It’s been 5 months now since his truck has been here and now he isn’t answering any calls or messages from me and I haven’t had contact with him now for 2 months. My question is can I somehow get in legal trouble if I get his vehicles towed away or should I do some type of report to the police or anything? I was fine with just 2 months because I would get some free and discounted repairs if anything came up but it’s been 3 months over what he said. What would be my best options? To mention it as well, we didn’t put anything in writing
2024.05.16 01:24 Successful-Part-8440 Repeating my request to the Devs: we need more varieties and flavors of air superiority fighters.
There are so many kinds of fighters to be had:
submitted by Successful-Part-8440 to ModernWarships [link] [comments]
- Interceptors: high speed, poor agility, with long ranged BVR radar-based, high damage air to air missiles, maybe or maybe not have some short ranged air to air missiles, and hopefully can be made capable of shooting down missiles from ships; strong against bombers (and missiles), mid against strike fighters, and poor against other fighters, weakest guns,
- air superiority fighters: high speed, mid agility, long ranged BVR, radar based, medium damage air to air missiles with fast reloads, fast locks, and high ammo count, with short ranged air to air missiles, mid guns
- point defense dogfighters: mediocre speed, high agility, have little to no BVR radar based missiles but have plenty of short ranged, sight locking missiles, best guns.
- missile trucks: no guns, but have a variety of different missiles for air to air
- gun fighters/laser fighters: no missiles, but have highly effective guns or lasers against aircraft.
- semi-active air to air missiles: player must keep the targeting reticule on enemy fighters for missile guidance: unflareable, but can be dodged with maneuvers
- laser guns for fighters
- 2x1 gun/laser weapons suite
- powerful rotary guns for gun fighters
- wide-radius, off-bore sight-based lock-on missiles.
2024.05.16 01:14 anonymitywoman What can I do? 38f 5’6” 220
What can I do? 38f 5’6” CW 220
Help? Three years ago I went on a wild journey that I cleaned up my eating and worked out hard. It had a direct effect on my mental health and everything felt so GREAT!
Until it didn’t anymore.
It didn’t happen at once. But my eating slipped. My work outs became more random. My mental health started failing more and more.
These last three months I’ve been actively pushing myself to fix it. To eat better. To get on a routine…. BUT EVERYTHING hurts and exhausts me. Not like last time when I gave a little effort into it I was rewarded with a rush and a light feeling. Now, my knees hurt. My back aches. I’m feeling absolutely run over by a semi truck. What do I do now? What am I missing? Is there a cleanse I can do, a restart? Any ideas that helped you?
submitted by anonymitywoman to loseit [link] [comments]
Help? Three years ago I went on a wild journey that I cleaned up my eating and worked out hard. It had a direct effect on my mental health and everything felt so GREAT!
Until it didn’t anymore.
It didn’t happen at once. But my eating slipped. My work outs became more random. My mental health started failing more and more.
These last three months I’ve been actively pushing myself to fix it. To eat better. To get on a routine…. BUT EVERYTHING hurts and exhausts me. Not like last time when I gave a little effort into it I was rewarded with a rush and a light feeling. Now, my knees hurt. My back aches. I’m feeling absolutely run over by a semi truck. What do I do now? What am I missing? Is there a cleanse I can do, a restart? Any ideas that helped you?
2024.05.16 00:45 Glacialfury [WP] Scavengers like you are not uncommon. The wreckage of the old world was once ripe with treasures. One day, however, you find something you did not expect...
Wastelander
A thin veil of sand blew across the road, danced in erratic swirls over the cracked pavement, and then capered off into the dunes.
Kaelar watched it spin into a small dust devil that swept past the skeletal branches of dead shrubs and the faded remnant of an old sign sagging into the sand. Rocks and bits of concrete jumped from countless pits and holes weathered into the road, kicked out in front of him with each measured step.
The dust devil whirled up the face of a sandy hill and vanished down the other side. He fingered his water skin, still nearly full. Some of the old folk said dust devils could lead you to water. Kaelar had tried once, but all he’d found was more dust.
He returned his attention to the road and what lay at the end. Or rather, what he would do once he arrived. Most of the Old World had hidden troves of valuable artifacts in broken buildings and infrastructure, the decaying crypts that were once people’s homes. But the treasures were dwindling, and the waste was encroaching. Arable land was a unicorn, and clean water was scarce. And there was no shortage of violent gangs roaming the wastes, circling the small ramshackle communities like wolves, watching for any sign of weakness.
Towns were dying.
Hell, the planet was dying, some said. Murdered by the poisons unleashed by her children back before his father’s father’s time. Maybe it was true.
Kaelar put the thought out of his mind and peered through the shimmering heat at the shattered remains of a city rising out of the ash. Mercury, he called it, for he did not know its true name. In the distant past, something had destroyed the city, blasted its buildings and cratered its parks, unalived its people.
Now nothing remained but the dust of shattered dreams. You could walk an entire day and not cross Mercury. Unwise, but you could do it.
He passed another sign, larger than before but just as faded. This one straddled the highway on great metal legs that did not rust. The edges of the road crumbled and sagged into the sand, mirroring the slow decay of Mercury. Nothing grew out here in the waste but sun-bleached bones and stony cliffs.
He walked on.
The city loomed larger and took shape as the hours passed.
He could make out tiny details now. Windows gaping with no glass, rooftops jagged and crumbling, the rusted relics of countless vehicles choking intersections and the bones of an entire city scattered through debris-strewn streets. He detoured around collapsed walls blocking his way and ravines that had recently opened to swallow entire blocks. This took time, precious hours he did not have to spare. Crap.
Kaelar tipped back his wide-brimmed hat and glanced at the sun, blazing overhead. Ten hours til dark. He had to hurry.
Lowering his hat, he took a small sip from his waterskin. It was hot and tasted terrible, but soothed his parched throat. The air was hotter still, dry but stifling, and hard to breathe when the dust was up. Despite this, he wore old leathers, suffered them for the small protection they offered. A scrape could prove deadly.
He adjusted his canvas satchel, more of an extensive collection of mismatched patches than an actual bag, but strong enough to accommodate even the best hauls. His gloves were fingerless, and weighted across the knuckles in case he had need.
His eyes never stopped moving, scanning ahead, probing into the shadows gathered in doorways and alleys, ever wary of the dangers present within the Old World. Wild beasts were the least of his worries. Men were the deadliest creatures of all.
He dusted off his goggles and glanced at his pistol in a worn leather holster belted at his hip. Each cartridge in the gun’s cylinder was worth a week of clean water. He had four left. If I’m right, I’ll have more after today.
Kaelar moved deeper into the city, to the heart of the ruins. His destination was just ahead, a place he’d searched before but never found the heart to explore past the fourth level.
Today, that would change.
A sudden clattering sound came from an alley to his right.
Kaelar instinctively ducked and leaped to press himself against the side of a rusted-out truck. Peering over the hood, he listened; he watched. No movement. He was surprised to find his pistol in his hand, glinting in the sunlight. He didn’t remember drawing it.
His eyes scanned deeper into the alley, past refuse and debris. Nothing.
Kaelar turned, drew in a deep breath and rested on his haunches with his back against the truck. Something had made that sound. Was someone stalking him? Other scavengers could be dangerous. Some would open your veins just for stepping into what they perceived as their territory. Sweat tracked down through the dust on his face. A moment later he decided he couldn’t leave it to chance. Never leave an enemy at your back, his father had told him. That advice had served him well over the years.
There was no movement as far as he could see in any direction facing away from the alley. Just the skeletal girders and broken concrete of a dead city. That left the alley at his back.
He went to his belly and peered under the truck. Nothing. He stayed there for some time, watching and waiting. Sweating.
When nothing showed, he rose to a crouch and slowly advanced into the alley, pistol leading.
It was deserted. There was nothing of value, not a bit of lead. Clattering came from above, faint and distant. Jaw clenched, he holstered his weapon and shimmied up a drain pipe to the roof.
Strange machines made two neat rows on one side and a small shack with a single door on the other. Sunlight soaked into the roof’s black skin, shimmering up in waves. But that wasn’t what held his eye. A second structure rose beside the one on which he stood, snugged tight to it like lovers. The leeward wall sat in the shade, and something clung there to the brick.
Kaelar couldn’t believe his eyes.
His heart leapt for joy. He rushed to the wall, and reached out with a trembling hand to gently brush the white petals of the vines climbing the brick. It was real. It was alive!
“You can’t have them!” Kaelar felt a hot explosion in the back of his head. The world tilted on its side and the roof rushed up to meet him.
A figure stood over him, dark and terrible and haloed by the sunlight.
“Your kind are not welcome here, Wastelander.”
Kaelar reeled with vertigo. He opened his mouth to speak but a heavy boot snapped out and blasted away his world.
It was alive.
submitted by Glacialfury to Glacialwrites [link] [comments]
A thin veil of sand blew across the road, danced in erratic swirls over the cracked pavement, and then capered off into the dunes.
Kaelar watched it spin into a small dust devil that swept past the skeletal branches of dead shrubs and the faded remnant of an old sign sagging into the sand. Rocks and bits of concrete jumped from countless pits and holes weathered into the road, kicked out in front of him with each measured step.
The dust devil whirled up the face of a sandy hill and vanished down the other side. He fingered his water skin, still nearly full. Some of the old folk said dust devils could lead you to water. Kaelar had tried once, but all he’d found was more dust.
He returned his attention to the road and what lay at the end. Or rather, what he would do once he arrived. Most of the Old World had hidden troves of valuable artifacts in broken buildings and infrastructure, the decaying crypts that were once people’s homes. But the treasures were dwindling, and the waste was encroaching. Arable land was a unicorn, and clean water was scarce. And there was no shortage of violent gangs roaming the wastes, circling the small ramshackle communities like wolves, watching for any sign of weakness.
Towns were dying.
Hell, the planet was dying, some said. Murdered by the poisons unleashed by her children back before his father’s father’s time. Maybe it was true.
Kaelar put the thought out of his mind and peered through the shimmering heat at the shattered remains of a city rising out of the ash. Mercury, he called it, for he did not know its true name. In the distant past, something had destroyed the city, blasted its buildings and cratered its parks, unalived its people.
Now nothing remained but the dust of shattered dreams. You could walk an entire day and not cross Mercury. Unwise, but you could do it.
He passed another sign, larger than before but just as faded. This one straddled the highway on great metal legs that did not rust. The edges of the road crumbled and sagged into the sand, mirroring the slow decay of Mercury. Nothing grew out here in the waste but sun-bleached bones and stony cliffs.
He walked on.
The city loomed larger and took shape as the hours passed.
He could make out tiny details now. Windows gaping with no glass, rooftops jagged and crumbling, the rusted relics of countless vehicles choking intersections and the bones of an entire city scattered through debris-strewn streets. He detoured around collapsed walls blocking his way and ravines that had recently opened to swallow entire blocks. This took time, precious hours he did not have to spare. Crap.
Kaelar tipped back his wide-brimmed hat and glanced at the sun, blazing overhead. Ten hours til dark. He had to hurry.
Lowering his hat, he took a small sip from his waterskin. It was hot and tasted terrible, but soothed his parched throat. The air was hotter still, dry but stifling, and hard to breathe when the dust was up. Despite this, he wore old leathers, suffered them for the small protection they offered. A scrape could prove deadly.
He adjusted his canvas satchel, more of an extensive collection of mismatched patches than an actual bag, but strong enough to accommodate even the best hauls. His gloves were fingerless, and weighted across the knuckles in case he had need.
His eyes never stopped moving, scanning ahead, probing into the shadows gathered in doorways and alleys, ever wary of the dangers present within the Old World. Wild beasts were the least of his worries. Men were the deadliest creatures of all.
He dusted off his goggles and glanced at his pistol in a worn leather holster belted at his hip. Each cartridge in the gun’s cylinder was worth a week of clean water. He had four left. If I’m right, I’ll have more after today.
Kaelar moved deeper into the city, to the heart of the ruins. His destination was just ahead, a place he’d searched before but never found the heart to explore past the fourth level.
Today, that would change.
A sudden clattering sound came from an alley to his right.
Kaelar instinctively ducked and leaped to press himself against the side of a rusted-out truck. Peering over the hood, he listened; he watched. No movement. He was surprised to find his pistol in his hand, glinting in the sunlight. He didn’t remember drawing it.
His eyes scanned deeper into the alley, past refuse and debris. Nothing.
Kaelar turned, drew in a deep breath and rested on his haunches with his back against the truck. Something had made that sound. Was someone stalking him? Other scavengers could be dangerous. Some would open your veins just for stepping into what they perceived as their territory. Sweat tracked down through the dust on his face. A moment later he decided he couldn’t leave it to chance. Never leave an enemy at your back, his father had told him. That advice had served him well over the years.
There was no movement as far as he could see in any direction facing away from the alley. Just the skeletal girders and broken concrete of a dead city. That left the alley at his back.
He went to his belly and peered under the truck. Nothing. He stayed there for some time, watching and waiting. Sweating.
When nothing showed, he rose to a crouch and slowly advanced into the alley, pistol leading.
It was deserted. There was nothing of value, not a bit of lead. Clattering came from above, faint and distant. Jaw clenched, he holstered his weapon and shimmied up a drain pipe to the roof.
Strange machines made two neat rows on one side and a small shack with a single door on the other. Sunlight soaked into the roof’s black skin, shimmering up in waves. But that wasn’t what held his eye. A second structure rose beside the one on which he stood, snugged tight to it like lovers. The leeward wall sat in the shade, and something clung there to the brick.
Kaelar couldn’t believe his eyes.
His heart leapt for joy. He rushed to the wall, and reached out with a trembling hand to gently brush the white petals of the vines climbing the brick. It was real. It was alive!
“You can’t have them!” Kaelar felt a hot explosion in the back of his head. The world tilted on its side and the roof rushed up to meet him.
A figure stood over him, dark and terrible and haloed by the sunlight.
“Your kind are not welcome here, Wastelander.”
Kaelar reeled with vertigo. He opened his mouth to speak but a heavy boot snapped out and blasted away his world.
It was alive.
2024.05.16 00:20 Souch-IntegraTLX Semi truck caused damages to car while driving
Was driving behind a semi and I think their side mirror or glass broke but it sent shards of glass towards my car and it rained broken glass all over the front of my car.
I was not able to get a picture of the truck or details of the truck company as it happened so fast.
I finally get to work and inspected the damage and my front end is dotted with chips and my windshield has a small crack in it now.
I have full coverage insurance on my car, what are my options, should I call and file a claim to get the damages fixed?
Just looking for advice on how to proceed, thanks!
submitted by Souch-IntegraTLX to Insurance [link] [comments]
I was not able to get a picture of the truck or details of the truck company as it happened so fast.
I finally get to work and inspected the damage and my front end is dotted with chips and my windshield has a small crack in it now.
I have full coverage insurance on my car, what are my options, should I call and file a claim to get the damages fixed?
Just looking for advice on how to proceed, thanks!
2024.05.16 00:05 Lou9896 2TMC [Semi-Vanilla][SMP]{1.20.1}{Java}{Datapacks}{Whitelist}{Discord}{Hermitcraft-like}{21+}
Hello we are 2TMC a 21+ community server much like Hermitcraft. We are a SMP with emphasis on being friendly (with a little bit of chaos) with other players, and trying to be a welcoming community to everyone. We are running a Semi-Vanilla server with a few terrain generation mods and additional mods that enhance the vanilla experience (see list below).
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server
Fabric mods on the server
Fabric mods required to join the server
Server Rules
submitted by Lou9896 to smp [link] [comments]
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server
- afkdisplay
- anti enderman grief
- armored elytra
- better item frames
- blackstone cobblestone
- blaze and cave's advancements pack
- coal to black dye
- charcoal to black dye
- confetti creepers
- coordinates hud
- craftable notch apples
- craftable coral blocks 3x3
- craftable gravel
- craftable bundles rabbit hide
- custom nether portals
- double shulker shells
- dragon drops
- durability ping
- fast leaf decay
- graves
- larger phantoms
- more mob heads
- mountain angels
- name formatting station
- player head drops
- real time clock
- silence mobs
- straight to shapeless
- unlock all recipes
- universal dyeing
- unpackable nether wart
- villager workstation highlights
- wandering trades hermit edition
Fabric mods on the server
- armor poser
- audioplayer
- cloth config api
- clumps
- enhanced groups
- fabric per player spawns
- geophilic
- head index
- just an end anchor
- keep head names
- more mob variants
- no chat reports
- player pronouns
- radio
- regrowth
- shulker+
- shulkerboxtooltip
- simple voicechat
- slimyfloor
- status
- stitched snow
- terralith
- towns and towers
- william wythers' overhauled overworld
Fabric mods required to join the server
- armor poser
- cloth config api
- just an end anchor
- more mob variants
- no chat reports
- shulker+
- simple voicechat
- status
- xareos minimap
- xareos worldmap
Server Rules
- Be Respectful
- No griefing, stealing, or cheating
- Chat is English only
- Non-Destructive Pranks are allowed (so Hermitcraft style pranks)
- Spawn area is for a spawn town
- Bases must be built 250 blocks away from Spawn.
- No duping except for carpet, rail and tnt.
- No combat logging, this means mobs as well.
- Taking items/griefing from active and maintained ruin sites is prohibited.
- No hacking or hacked clients
- No using others builds, items, villagers, etc without their permission.
2024.05.16 00:05 Lou9896 2TMC [Semi-Vanilla][SMP]{1.20.1}{Java}{Datapacks}{Whitelist}{Discord}{Hermitcraft-like}{21+}
Hello we are 2TMC a 21+ community server much like Hermitcraft. We are a SMP with emphasis on being friendly (with a little bit of chaos) with other players, and trying to be a welcoming community to everyone. We are running a Semi-Vanilla server with a few terrain generation mods and additional mods that enhance the vanilla experience (see list below).
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server
Fabric mods on the server
Fabric mods required to join the server
Server Rules
submitted by Lou9896 to MinecraftServerFinder [link] [comments]
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server
- afkdisplay
- anti enderman grief
- armored elytra
- better item frames
- blackstone cobblestone
- blaze and cave's advancements pack
- coal to black dye
- charcoal to black dye
- confetti creepers
- coordinates hud
- craftable notch apples
- craftable coral blocks 3x3
- craftable gravel
- craftable bundles rabbit hide
- custom nether portals
- double shulker shells
- dragon drops
- durability ping
- fast leaf decay
- graves
- larger phantoms
- more mob heads
- mountain angels
- name formatting station
- player head drops
- real time clock
- silence mobs
- straight to shapeless
- unlock all recipes
- universal dyeing
- unpackable nether wart
- villager workstation highlights
- wandering trades hermit edition
Fabric mods on the server
- armor poser
- audioplayer
- cloth config api
- clumps
- enhanced groups
- fabric per player spawns
- geophilic
- head index
- just an end anchor
- keep head names
- more mob variants
- no chat reports
- player pronouns
- radio
- regrowth
- shulker+
- shulkerboxtooltip
- simple voicechat
- slimyfloor
- status
- stitched snow
- terralith
- towns and towers
- william wythers' overhauled overworld
Fabric mods required to join the server
- armor poser
- cloth config api
- just an end anchor
- more mob variants
- no chat reports
- shulker+
- simple voicechat
- status
- xareos minimap
- xareos worldmap
Server Rules
- Be Respectful
- No griefing, stealing, or cheating
- Chat is English only
- Non-Destructive Pranks are allowed (so Hermitcraft style pranks)
- Spawn area is for a spawn town
- Bases must be built 250 blocks away from Spawn.
- No duping except for carpet, rail and tnt.
- No combat logging, this means mobs as well.
- Taking items/griefing from active and maintained ruin sites is prohibited.
- No hacking or hacked clients
- No using others builds, items, villagers, etc without their permission.
2024.05.15 23:56 innocentsmuttyangel How do I politely decline a “job”?
So I got this text from this man earlier today about a nanny job. I got weird vibes from the start because he was providing as little information as possible about the job. I had to keep asking. I also found it weird that he wanted to conduct the “interview” via text. He then messages me back hours later and tells me that his wife filled the position already but he had another job for me. I had to ask what the job was again—he provided no information. He texted me back with the job and I found it to be weird bc he said that he was a truck driver but the job was to post real estate postings. How do I politely decline this “job”? Or should I just block and delete?
submitted by innocentsmuttyangel to Advice [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 23:54 Sudden-Scallion-6204 Everything is driving me INSANE TODAY
Bad PTSD week and everything is so overstimulating rn that I feel about two seconds from blowing up at someone. I lost my earbuds so I can’t block out all the noise, but I have a delivery truck dropping off bedding for the horses, one of the horses won’t stop screaming, there’s kids everywhere, one of them is blasting KIDS BOP, it’s raining, there’s a bird stuck in the silo, the dog is chasing deer. Everything is so LOUD. I already can’t filter sound because of constant hyper-vigilance, add onto that being MORE sensitive for the past few days, AND just how loud everything inherently is rn. My brain is like make them be quiet. But I know that’s wrong so then I also feel like a piece of shit for thinking like that. So long story short I’m hiding in the silo until everyone gets out of the barn so I can at least TRY to be a normal person the rest of the day.
submitted by Sudden-Scallion-6204 to mentalhealth [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 23:51 hrothmartin Homeworld 3: A point-by-point breakdown for series veterans
Disclaimer: the audience for this post is people who are familiar with Homeworld. I've put hundreds of hours into all the games across the series. I'm going to assume that you're familiar with the basic mechanics, story beats and tone of the original game.
Homeworld 3 has been out a few days now. Critic reviews are largely positive, and fan sentiment seems to be a mixed bag.
Personally, I give it a strong recommend. But I also understand some of the frustration: there are a few gameplay design decisions that I don't agree with that I'll get into later. Here's my detailed breakdown:
neutral: missing features from HW2
I think the general sentiment is that few people liked squadrons in HW2. Subsystems were sort of cool but kind of annoying to target in the heat of battle. I don't really miss either of these features, personally.
neutral: different narrative tone
A lot of people seem to be up in arms about this. I have to say that the character-driven CGI cutscenes do add a bit of texture to the universe, but for me, it comes the expense of the kind of epic feel of the older titles. The older games doesn't really put individual people at the center of the narrative; the spaceships themselves are the characters.
Still, the in-engine cutscenes look great, with cool coreography. I wish they would have done more of this, it's more true to the original style.
neutral: too many single-target abilities
Why can't I shoot my charged beams at multiple enemies? Why can't I band-box to capture multiple ships at once? Not only would more multi-select abilies makes sense tactically, it would make things easier to control: it can be hard to pick out a single enemy from a big pile of ships.
neutral: some units finicky to control
I'm thinking of units like bombers. They have a cloaking ability, which doesn't always seem to work (maybe because one of them is still firing?). It's very frustrating when you *think* you enabled the cloaking device, only to have all your units wiped out 10 seconds later because the ability didn't actually trigger.
Movement and target selection can also be an issue. Again with bombers: they have an extremely long range, but will dive heedlessly toward the enemy at close range and get chewed up instead of turning around at a reasonable distance on their attack run. They also don't spread out their targets enough: they might drop two salvos of bombs on a target that would be destroyed by just one. Torpedo frigates are the opposite: they will try and keep a very large distance from the enemy, sometimes making it difficult to get them to go where you want them to go.
neutral: tactical changes
You can set a "stance" like in HW2, and this generally works better than in that game. Units don't run all over the map in a hyper-aggressive way, and will generally stick close to units they're guarding.
However you can't set "tactics" independently like in HW1 or HW: Remastered. For example, you can't set your recon units to "evasive" to have them break formation and tie up enemy units in the same way you could in that game.
You can kind of approximate this with formations, though. If you set "no formation" then strike craft will manuever in an evasive way. It took me a while to figure this out: the game doesn't really teach this to you.
negative: pacing and level design
This is the most frustrating thing about the game, even more so because it's 100% fixable. All you would need to do is give players a little time at the beginning of a mission to build a few units and get their selection groups set up before starting mission timers.
Likewise, it would be really nice to have some cooldown time at the end of missions to collect resources and rebuild your fleet. The "forced hyperspace" is a really questionable gameplay design decision.
There's one mission in particular where you're defending a chokepoint against a large enemy fleet. By the end of the mission, your fleet is battered: I was playing on the hardest difficulty, and had no resources remaining. After the combat, there are wrecked ships everywhere that your resource collectors can salvage, but the mission ends before you can collect anything!
Instead, I had to start the next mission with no resources and a crippled fleet. There didn't seem to be any plot justification for this: it's like it's specifically designed to annoy players.
negative: issues with camera and selection controls
These issues are more minor. The first is that you can't deselect a unit directly by right-clicking. As far as I can tell, you can only do it in the unit overlay in the lower-left corner. But in that view, you can't tell which unit you're delecting, since it's just a box with a pile of ships.
The large environmental objects (superstructures) are also an obstacle to selection. This is a problem, since some levels take place in large hollow structures. You can see the units in sensor mode, but if you try to click on one and there's a solid object in the way, it won't select them. This is annoying, and it forces you to waste time rotating the camera around until the object is no longer in between you and the selection.
The sensors manager can also drop you in weird places when you exit back into the standard view, particularly if you've been zooming around. Sometimes there's a big object blocking your view. Hope they can patch this.
Finally, there are hidden controls that are hard to access. There's a whole context menu that you can only find by holding 'alt' and right clicking: I had to look this up online. The command to retire a ship is hidden in this menu. If you've played these series you know that 'retire' is actually a pretty important command: your population is capped and sometimes you need to retire some ships to make room for better ones.
negative: miscellaneous
Why don't groups keep their formation after docking? Why? WHY? Sajuuk, why have you forsaken me?
Finally, and this is more of a feature request: it should be simple to auto-reinforce your groups back to full strength. Granted, this is a problem with every homeworld game: it's so frustrating to lose focus on a battle just because you're trying to add a single recon unit to bring your group from 29 to 30. Then you need to remember to update the formation because adding a unit makes it "mixed".
Maybe this is only a problem for OCD formation micromanagers like me, I don't know.
a note on performance
The game mostly peformed well for my mid-range computer on high settings. A few large, open levels had performance issues: one level in the War Games mode which consists of a bunch of vertical structures and a very large map occasionally slowed to a crawl, and I had to turn down the settings.
I have high hopes for the modding scene, given that the modding tools appear to be based on a customized version of the Unreal Engine. The roguelike mode is actually a blast, and I'd love to see where they go with it. New maps and mission objectives would be welcome. I haven't played it cooperatively but I'm eager to try.
I haven't played the skirmish mode yet, and I never played the older games competitively, so I've got no opinions there. Would love to hear more from others one what they think.
Also happy to clarify any points above, please feel free to ask.
submitted by hrothmartin to homeworld [link] [comments]
Homeworld 3 has been out a few days now. Critic reviews are largely positive, and fan sentiment seems to be a mixed bag.
Personally, I give it a strong recommend. But I also understand some of the frustration: there are a few gameplay design decisions that I don't agree with that I'll get into later. Here's my detailed breakdown:
positive
graphics: amazing, no notes- it's pretty. really, really pretty
- ships have lots of details and moving parts
- generally runs well on my mid-range computer, a few notable exceptions
- orbit camera still works as expected
- you can drive the camera around which gives additional flexibility
- dedicated controls for camera elevation
- radio chatter is well done
- music is amazing (Paul Ruskay is back!)
- right click on a 3d surface to move to a point
- sensors manager has helpful movement zones, similar to HW2
- select all damaged units in a single group with a button
- improved launch manager, easy to launch individual unit types
- denser environments are tactically interesting
- turrets are cool, can stick to most 3d surfaces
- characters are generally well written
- engine cutscenes are nicely coreographed
- it's fun! and a great foundation for future content
- different starting loadouts are tactically significant
- semi-random upgrades encourage you to play differently
neutral
missing features from HW2- no subsystem targeting
- no squadrons
- CGI cutscenes instead of illustrations and line art
- more character-driven than previous games
- stances (aggressive/defensive/passive) are similar to HW: Remastered
- tactics (evasive/neutral/aggressive) have been removed
- "no formation" seems to fulfill a similar function to evasive tactics
- some units very finicky to control
- cover system seems underutilized
- too many single-target abilities
negative
pacing & level design issues- limited time at mission start to build and assign unit groups
- forced hyperspace: no time to collect resources or reconstitute after a mission
- pacing feels needlessly hectic
- leaving sensors manager sometimes puts you behind objects
- superstructures can block unit selection
- right clicking on units in the main view does not deselect them
- some controls in hidden menus
- groups don't keep their formation after docking. infuriating.
- no automated way to reinforce groups to full strength
discussion
A bit more detail on some of the points above:neutral: missing features from HW2
I think the general sentiment is that few people liked squadrons in HW2. Subsystems were sort of cool but kind of annoying to target in the heat of battle. I don't really miss either of these features, personally.
neutral: different narrative tone
A lot of people seem to be up in arms about this. I have to say that the character-driven CGI cutscenes do add a bit of texture to the universe, but for me, it comes the expense of the kind of epic feel of the older titles. The older games doesn't really put individual people at the center of the narrative; the spaceships themselves are the characters.
Still, the in-engine cutscenes look great, with cool coreography. I wish they would have done more of this, it's more true to the original style.
neutral: too many single-target abilities
Why can't I shoot my charged beams at multiple enemies? Why can't I band-box to capture multiple ships at once? Not only would more multi-select abilies makes sense tactically, it would make things easier to control: it can be hard to pick out a single enemy from a big pile of ships.
neutral: some units finicky to control
I'm thinking of units like bombers. They have a cloaking ability, which doesn't always seem to work (maybe because one of them is still firing?). It's very frustrating when you *think* you enabled the cloaking device, only to have all your units wiped out 10 seconds later because the ability didn't actually trigger.
Movement and target selection can also be an issue. Again with bombers: they have an extremely long range, but will dive heedlessly toward the enemy at close range and get chewed up instead of turning around at a reasonable distance on their attack run. They also don't spread out their targets enough: they might drop two salvos of bombs on a target that would be destroyed by just one. Torpedo frigates are the opposite: they will try and keep a very large distance from the enemy, sometimes making it difficult to get them to go where you want them to go.
neutral: tactical changes
You can set a "stance" like in HW2, and this generally works better than in that game. Units don't run all over the map in a hyper-aggressive way, and will generally stick close to units they're guarding.
However you can't set "tactics" independently like in HW1 or HW: Remastered. For example, you can't set your recon units to "evasive" to have them break formation and tie up enemy units in the same way you could in that game.
You can kind of approximate this with formations, though. If you set "no formation" then strike craft will manuever in an evasive way. It took me a while to figure this out: the game doesn't really teach this to you.
negative: pacing and level design
This is the most frustrating thing about the game, even more so because it's 100% fixable. All you would need to do is give players a little time at the beginning of a mission to build a few units and get their selection groups set up before starting mission timers.
Likewise, it would be really nice to have some cooldown time at the end of missions to collect resources and rebuild your fleet. The "forced hyperspace" is a really questionable gameplay design decision.
There's one mission in particular where you're defending a chokepoint against a large enemy fleet. By the end of the mission, your fleet is battered: I was playing on the hardest difficulty, and had no resources remaining. After the combat, there are wrecked ships everywhere that your resource collectors can salvage, but the mission ends before you can collect anything!
Instead, I had to start the next mission with no resources and a crippled fleet. There didn't seem to be any plot justification for this: it's like it's specifically designed to annoy players.
negative: issues with camera and selection controls
These issues are more minor. The first is that you can't deselect a unit directly by right-clicking. As far as I can tell, you can only do it in the unit overlay in the lower-left corner. But in that view, you can't tell which unit you're delecting, since it's just a box with a pile of ships.
The large environmental objects (superstructures) are also an obstacle to selection. This is a problem, since some levels take place in large hollow structures. You can see the units in sensor mode, but if you try to click on one and there's a solid object in the way, it won't select them. This is annoying, and it forces you to waste time rotating the camera around until the object is no longer in between you and the selection.
The sensors manager can also drop you in weird places when you exit back into the standard view, particularly if you've been zooming around. Sometimes there's a big object blocking your view. Hope they can patch this.
Finally, there are hidden controls that are hard to access. There's a whole context menu that you can only find by holding 'alt' and right clicking: I had to look this up online. The command to retire a ship is hidden in this menu. If you've played these series you know that 'retire' is actually a pretty important command: your population is capped and sometimes you need to retire some ships to make room for better ones.
negative: miscellaneous
Why don't groups keep their formation after docking? Why? WHY? Sajuuk, why have you forsaken me?
Finally, and this is more of a feature request: it should be simple to auto-reinforce your groups back to full strength. Granted, this is a problem with every homeworld game: it's so frustrating to lose focus on a battle just because you're trying to add a single recon unit to bring your group from 29 to 30. Then you need to remember to update the formation because adding a unit makes it "mixed".
Maybe this is only a problem for OCD formation micromanagers like me, I don't know.
a note on performance
The game mostly peformed well for my mid-range computer on high settings. A few large, open levels had performance issues: one level in the War Games mode which consists of a bunch of vertical structures and a very large map occasionally slowed to a crawl, and I had to turn down the settings.
Conclusion
The fact that I can strongly recommend this game in spite of the issues listed above is a testament to the quality of the engine that BBI has built. The minute-to-minute gameplay feels very solid and true to the series. With a few tweaks, I think they could really improve the pacing of the single-player game.I have high hopes for the modding scene, given that the modding tools appear to be based on a customized version of the Unreal Engine. The roguelike mode is actually a blast, and I'd love to see where they go with it. New maps and mission objectives would be welcome. I haven't played it cooperatively but I'm eager to try.
I haven't played the skirmish mode yet, and I never played the older games competitively, so I've got no opinions there. Would love to hear more from others one what they think.
Also happy to clarify any points above, please feel free to ask.
2024.05.15 23:47 BSGBramley Dark Souls 2 Review
Dark Souls 2 is usually treated as the bad apple, with many people saying say 'it's a good game but a bad Dark Souls game' and I have mixed feelings about this statement. When it was originally released, I agreed, but not for the usual arguments you heard. But I stopped playing halfway through due to bad hit detection, something that for me, is unacceptable in a soulslike. I was going to replay it after a patch or two. But my love of soulslike wasn’t as absolute back then, so never touched it until the re-release- the 'Scholar of the First Sin' Edition (SotFS), which included fixes hit boxes, better enemy placements, and all the bits of DLC included, and this version is so much better, and the version I will exclusively be reviewing.
Gameplay & Technical:
I hear a lot of people complaining about the very flow of the game, due to there being less monstrous boss fights, and many of the levels having much more enemies to fight, so it’s easy for them to surround you. I’m going to be the odd duck who disagrees with everyone and say I didn’t mind this at all. Every soulslike plays rarely deviates from the formula set by Dark Souls 1. Easy to semi difficult level design, with a difficult boss to cap that section off. Dark Souls 2 (and Lords of the Fallen 2023) are the only soulslike who seem to flip the difficulty around, creating easier boss fights but having levels with a much higher enemy density. While a lot of people dislike this change, I enjoy the change of pace as it is testing another skill set. Instead of testing my ability to dodge and block one big enemy, can I do this and remain spatially aware of everything else. Lords of the Fallen 2023 since changed their game to buff the bosses and remove many enemies, however Dark Souls 2 didn’t. They stuck to their guns meaning it was intentional. My guess is that the Devs knew they had tested their fans skills in Demon Souls and Dark Souls, so wanted this sequel to remain fresh and difficult so made the choice to go this route and I for one don’t mind that change occasionally. The DLC area’s then seem to return to the more standard formula.
Another boon of this gameplay is the subtle options it gives the player. You can beat the 4 huge boss souls to open the door to the castle... Or you can grind to a specific soul level if you would rather.
NG+ is one of the best in the genre, and From Software’s best by a mile. NG cycles have new enemy’s placements and items. And if you only want to beat your favourite bosses or get one item from NG+, then you can burn an effigy in the bonfire to upgrade that one specific area to NG+.. Meaning grinding for that boss door and ignoring bosses is very viable.
Story, Level Design, Art & Music:
The base games story here is inconsequential. It’s told in the usual drips and drabs, but with Dark Souls 1 being the first cycle, and Dark Souls 3 being the last, this being ‘just another one’ didn’t really hook me in the same way. The story implications of the ‘Three crowns’ DLC’s trilogy was much more interesting, and I really wanted this threat to continue more into the third game, but it wasn’t to be. The other thing that made a lot of sense story-wise was the health degradation system every time you hollowed to represent getting further and further from your humanity. Yes, it made the game harder, but I would have loved this change to have stayed in the third game as it works so well thematically.
The level design here is again a negative point to many people. It doesn’t loop back on itself- ever- in the base game, and it’s nonsensical in places. You can see a tower in the distance, walk to the tower, go to the top and there is an elevator which wasn’t visible from the outside that goes to a hidden sky castle. People didn’t like this, but it never really bothered me. Why can’t a fantast title have fantasy in its world? With the hindsight of playing Dark Souls 3, I wonder if this was intentional to show the world degrading in logic with every loop. A point driven home in the ringed city DLC of Dark Souls 3, when part of the Dark Souls 2 world can be seen scattered around. Again, the 3 crowns DLC’s return to the normal formula of shortcuts and logical places you can map out in your head.
My biggest complaint about this game is the art direction. A topic I haven’t heard any other person talking about. My biggest issue with this game, is the entire art direction just seems off to me. I will do my best to explain this, however I am struggling to word it, so if anyone gets what I’m trying to say and can word it better please let me know and I will amend my review.
Dark Souls 1 & 3's graphics are dark, grim, and dripping with atmosphere, in contrast Dark Souls 2 graphics are more vibrant, with a higher contrast and it loses the edge the other games in this series do so well, making the atmosphere less oppressive and the game feeling more like a more ‘typical’ fantasy game.
This isn’t strictly to do with the colour pallet, as Elden Ring also uses much brighter pallet, yet retains an art style in line with the rest of the series.
Conclusion:
Overall a lot of the common complains about Dark Souks 2 never bothered me and I found this an enjoyable game with some unique mechanics that fit the themes of the story perfectly The base game is enjoyable enough, however it’s the 3 pieces of DLC content that really tie this game together. These three DLC’s have all the base areas, boss fights and story in the game and I whole heartedly encourage you to play for this content. I personally, however, hate the visual design they chose, and am so happy they returned to the usual design in there later games.
submitted by BSGBramley to soulslikes [link] [comments]
Gameplay & Technical:
I hear a lot of people complaining about the very flow of the game, due to there being less monstrous boss fights, and many of the levels having much more enemies to fight, so it’s easy for them to surround you. I’m going to be the odd duck who disagrees with everyone and say I didn’t mind this at all. Every soulslike plays rarely deviates from the formula set by Dark Souls 1. Easy to semi difficult level design, with a difficult boss to cap that section off. Dark Souls 2 (and Lords of the Fallen 2023) are the only soulslike who seem to flip the difficulty around, creating easier boss fights but having levels with a much higher enemy density. While a lot of people dislike this change, I enjoy the change of pace as it is testing another skill set. Instead of testing my ability to dodge and block one big enemy, can I do this and remain spatially aware of everything else. Lords of the Fallen 2023 since changed their game to buff the bosses and remove many enemies, however Dark Souls 2 didn’t. They stuck to their guns meaning it was intentional. My guess is that the Devs knew they had tested their fans skills in Demon Souls and Dark Souls, so wanted this sequel to remain fresh and difficult so made the choice to go this route and I for one don’t mind that change occasionally. The DLC area’s then seem to return to the more standard formula.
Another boon of this gameplay is the subtle options it gives the player. You can beat the 4 huge boss souls to open the door to the castle... Or you can grind to a specific soul level if you would rather.
NG+ is one of the best in the genre, and From Software’s best by a mile. NG cycles have new enemy’s placements and items. And if you only want to beat your favourite bosses or get one item from NG+, then you can burn an effigy in the bonfire to upgrade that one specific area to NG+.. Meaning grinding for that boss door and ignoring bosses is very viable.
Story, Level Design, Art & Music:
The base games story here is inconsequential. It’s told in the usual drips and drabs, but with Dark Souls 1 being the first cycle, and Dark Souls 3 being the last, this being ‘just another one’ didn’t really hook me in the same way. The story implications of the ‘Three crowns’ DLC’s trilogy was much more interesting, and I really wanted this threat to continue more into the third game, but it wasn’t to be. The other thing that made a lot of sense story-wise was the health degradation system every time you hollowed to represent getting further and further from your humanity. Yes, it made the game harder, but I would have loved this change to have stayed in the third game as it works so well thematically.
The level design here is again a negative point to many people. It doesn’t loop back on itself- ever- in the base game, and it’s nonsensical in places. You can see a tower in the distance, walk to the tower, go to the top and there is an elevator which wasn’t visible from the outside that goes to a hidden sky castle. People didn’t like this, but it never really bothered me. Why can’t a fantast title have fantasy in its world? With the hindsight of playing Dark Souls 3, I wonder if this was intentional to show the world degrading in logic with every loop. A point driven home in the ringed city DLC of Dark Souls 3, when part of the Dark Souls 2 world can be seen scattered around. Again, the 3 crowns DLC’s return to the normal formula of shortcuts and logical places you can map out in your head.
My biggest complaint about this game is the art direction. A topic I haven’t heard any other person talking about. My biggest issue with this game, is the entire art direction just seems off to me. I will do my best to explain this, however I am struggling to word it, so if anyone gets what I’m trying to say and can word it better please let me know and I will amend my review.
Dark Souls 1 & 3's graphics are dark, grim, and dripping with atmosphere, in contrast Dark Souls 2 graphics are more vibrant, with a higher contrast and it loses the edge the other games in this series do so well, making the atmosphere less oppressive and the game feeling more like a more ‘typical’ fantasy game.
This isn’t strictly to do with the colour pallet, as Elden Ring also uses much brighter pallet, yet retains an art style in line with the rest of the series.
Conclusion:
Overall a lot of the common complains about Dark Souks 2 never bothered me and I found this an enjoyable game with some unique mechanics that fit the themes of the story perfectly The base game is enjoyable enough, however it’s the 3 pieces of DLC content that really tie this game together. These three DLC’s have all the base areas, boss fights and story in the game and I whole heartedly encourage you to play for this content. I personally, however, hate the visual design they chose, and am so happy they returned to the usual design in there later games.
2024.05.15 23:43 Bunnystrawbery 25 years ago Mikelle Biggs waited for ice cream. Only her bike would be found. Where did Mikelle go?
Mikelle was last witnesses near her residence in Mesa, Arizona, on January 2, 1999. She had take a bike ride her younger sister was also with Mikelle. At sone point during the rude they both hear music from an ice cream truck. They waited for the truck to arrive near Toltec Street and El Moro Avenue at approximately 4:00 P.M.
Mikelle's sister feeling chilly left for home to retrieve a coat. She was gone for less than two minutes. When her sister returned Mikelle had simply vanished. The only evidence the young girl had beenthere was her left behind bike wheel still spinning.
The area were Mikelle dissappeared from was extensively searched by law enforcement. No further evidence ever turn up. Eventually scent dogs brought in these canines lost mikelle's smell quickly. Police believed this indicating she was possibly pulled into a waiting vehicle.
Every ice cream truck driver was questioned and cleared of any involvement in Mikelle's case, and investigators are unsure if there were any ice cream trucks in the area that day.
Mikelle's family strongly believed Dee Blalock, a convicted sexual predator who resided two blocks from the Mikelle home at the time of her disappearance. Played a partin her abduction. Blalock's wife made the claimed he had spent the entire night in their home's garage.
Mikelle's family believe she is deceased, and they held a funeral for her with an empty casket on the fifth anniversary of her abductions. Her case still remains open and unsloved.
https://charleyproject.org/case/mikelle-diane-biggs
https://www.doenetwork.org/cases/2478dfaz.html
submitted by Bunnystrawbery to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]
Mikelle's sister feeling chilly left for home to retrieve a coat. She was gone for less than two minutes. When her sister returned Mikelle had simply vanished. The only evidence the young girl had beenthere was her left behind bike wheel still spinning.
The area were Mikelle dissappeared from was extensively searched by law enforcement. No further evidence ever turn up. Eventually scent dogs brought in these canines lost mikelle's smell quickly. Police believed this indicating she was possibly pulled into a waiting vehicle.
Every ice cream truck driver was questioned and cleared of any involvement in Mikelle's case, and investigators are unsure if there were any ice cream trucks in the area that day.
Mikelle's family strongly believed Dee Blalock, a convicted sexual predator who resided two blocks from the Mikelle home at the time of her disappearance. Played a partin her abduction. Blalock's wife made the claimed he had spent the entire night in their home's garage.
Mikelle's family believe she is deceased, and they held a funeral for her with an empty casket on the fifth anniversary of her abductions. Her case still remains open and unsloved.
https://charleyproject.org/case/mikelle-diane-biggs
https://www.doenetwork.org/cases/2478dfaz.html
2024.05.15 23:29 Eyepoker69 PUBG CONSOLE CUSTOMS
 | Pubg Customs tonight! 9 pm eastern US launch time. The lobby will be open for 15 minutes prior to launch. First game up will be semi-auto pistols only IN POCHINKI… FPP too. Tonka Trucks will be DUOS with a 3 second revive. Last 2 games will be solo. Comment for the password to get in submitted by Eyepoker69 to PUBG [link] [comments] |
2024.05.15 23:26 Eyepoker69 PUBG CONSOLE CUSTOMS
 | Pubg Customs tonight! 9 pm eastern US launch time. The lobby will be open for 15 minutes prior to launch. First game up will be semi-auto pistols only IN POCHINKI… FPP too. Tonka Trucks will be DUOS with a 3 second revive. Last 2 games will be solo. Comment for the password to get in submitted by Eyepoker69 to PUBGConsole [link] [comments] |
2024.05.15 23:19 7oll8ooth Epiphone 150th Sheraton, Epi Inspired by Gibson ES-355, Epi Marty Schwartz ES-335, Gretsch John Gourley Broadkaster, Gretsch G5422TG Electromatic, Epi Dave Grohl GT-335, Epi Jim James ES-335, Epi Sheraton II-PRO
I'm looking for the first semi-/hollow body I've ever purchased, and Epiphone has made this a very difficult decision with all of the great guitars that have come out. I love the SlimTaper 60s neck profile, have one on my Epiphone Les Paul Custom Koa (with upgraded Seymour Duncan Saturday Night Special pickups), and I also love a satin neck on my Cort G300 Pro. Had an ES-339 P90 PRO but couldn't handle the P90 hum. I'm considering the following:
What guitar should I buy?
submitted by 7oll8ooth to whatguitarshouldibuy [link] [comments]
- Epiphone 150th Anniversary Sheraton ($1299)
- Epiphone Marty Schwartz Signature ES-335 ($899)
- Epiphone Inspired by Gibson 1959 ES-355 ($1299)
- Gretsch Electromatic John Gourley Broadkaster ($1299)
- Gretsch G5422TG Electromatic Classic Hollow Body ($899)
- Epiphone Dave Grohl DG-335 ($1299)
- Epiphone Jim James ES-335 ($899)
- Epiphone Sheraton-II PRO ($749)
- Epiphone Shinichi Ubukata Signature ES-355 Ver.02 ($1199)
What guitar should I buy?
2024.05.15 23:16 Pal4Palestinians An Egyptian driver at the Rafah border calls for people to speak out about letting the Humanitarian aid truck into Ghaza. The driver pointed out that much of the food had begun to spoil because the trucks had been blocked from entering the strip.
 | submitted by Pal4Palestinians to UnderReportedNews [link] [comments] |
2024.05.15 23:15 Pal4Palestinians An Egyptian driver at the Rafah border calls for people to speak out about letting the Humanitarian aid truck into Ghaza. The driver pointed out that much of the food had begun to spoil because the trucks had been blocked from entering the strip.
| | submitted by Pal4Palestinians to worldpolitics2 [link] [comments] |