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**Reddit Account:** u/Thenn_Applicant
**Discord Tag:** Garin
**Name and House:** Dorian Merryweather
**Age:** 49
**Cultural Group:** Reachman
**Appearance:** Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.
**Trait:** Numerate
**Skills:** Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
**Talents:** Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
**Negative Trait:** N/A
**Starting Title:** Lord of Longtable
**Starting Location:** Opening Event
**Biography:**
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
**Timeline:**
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
**Family Tree:**
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
**Auxiliary Character:**
**Name and House:** Florys Merryweather
**Age:** 23
**Cultural Group:** Reachman
**Appearance:** A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual
**Trait:** Hale
**Skills:** Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
**Talents:** Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
**Negative Traits:** N/A
**Starting Title:** Heir to Longtable
**Starting Location:** Opening Event
**Timeline:**
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
**NPCS:**
**Ser Leo Merryweather** (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
**Saathos Tevelyan:** (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to

Good morning,
I recently found out I have to relocate from one UK city to another for work. It will be for at least 3 years, at which point I may have the option to stay long term, or else I will move again for a permanent position.
I own a house outright in my current city worth approx £500k (with my wife and 2 small children). We are mortgage-free because of inheritance. We renovated it and have only lived in it for 2 years. I am now trying to decide whether to let this house out, or sell the house. We will probably rent somewhere in the new city for a while and buy once we find our bearings and decide the likelihood of staying long term. I have some additional savings as well but probably not enough to buy another house and I'd rather not have a mortgage again.
If I let the current house out I could get approx £2k per month, or £24k per year. But then there will be property management fees, maintenance fees, hassle, the possibility that the tenants treat the house badly or don't pay bills, etc etc. Also, the house looks very nice now and I wonder if it will therefore attract a premium price, whereas if we sell it as am empty shell after letting it out for 3 years it might not.
If I sell the house we could put £500k in easy access savings accounts with 5% interest which would generate £25k per year. We wouldn't have the costs or the hassle associated with letting, and would be in an excellent position to buy a property in the new city if we decided to stay longer term. On the other hand, we would not own any property for a period of time so if we didn't purchase a new property for 2 or 3 years and prices kept rising we might lose out this way.
Selling seems to make more sense to me based on the sums above, but I am worried I might be missing something... Any advice would be very gratefully received. Many thanks.

Please bear in mind that these thoughts really only apply to RetCa Starscythe units, I just can't really explain that in a title!
This is because I think the comparison might be a bit more complicated than most people seem to realise due to the fact Farsight can use 'The Arro'kon Protocol' on his unit every turn, for free. To save you looking it up in case you can't remember;
"Until the end of the [shooting] phase, each time a model in your [battlesuit] unit makes an attack that targets an enemy unit that contains 6 or more models, that attack has the [SUSTAINED HITS 1] ability. If that attack targets an enemy unit that contains 11 or more models, it has the [SUSTAINED HITS 2] ability instead."
Alright, cool. Weirdly, my first thought wasn't Starscythes but in fact Fireknives because they like firing into big, healthy units and they get rerolls so you're gonna hit a lot of shots pretty reliably. Seemed to make sense but after some pondering I decided that too much of the appeal of Fireknives is their 'mid-strength weapon' versatility. They can play a bit of the resource management efficiency game with the 30" range and rerolls but if the moment calls for it, you can zip up into Bonded Heroes range and lay down some slightly higher than expected damage. Or fire up the Starflare Ignition System and peace out to the backline to cause trouble. To me that sounds a lot more fun and probably actually better than fishing for 6s while Farsight spends his time popping his stratagem repeatedly, waving his sword around a bit and turn by turn, slowly losing his erection.
Ok but Farsight of course enjoys his time amongst the new frontlining Starscythes so the original point of this post was to think about whether a 235pt burst cannon unit pumping out 24 S6AP-2 sus2 +1 to wound, rerolling all the 1s can compare to what the commanders offer. I'll exclude drones because I have to because I'm not that smart.
Assuming S. Suits are helping I think you average about 27 hits and you're gonna be wounding anything up to T5 on 2s, rerolling the 1s. Ok. Seems pretty good to me. Asking kindly for a 10man+leader unit to take 25 AP-2 saves sounds like something I'd enjoy. Good chance they fail 16 and they don't like it. And it's still 15-16 wounds on a 6man T6 unit which at AP-2 will often mean 3 dead chunky 3W models and sometimes 4.
Ok now imagine a (260pts) Coldstar-led team zooming across the battlefield to get within 6", dropping a few mortals on a few heads on the way over. It's nice to think about. I'm just gonna go with flamers because I think the overwatch threat is substantial enough when you're up close to justify them so 9 flamers is gonna be 31ish hits with S5 AP-2. If you're rich enough in observer units to guide with S. Suits you might earn an extra 3 wounds here vs T3/4 but for me part of the appeal of the flamers is that you can put a marker drone on the Shas'vre/Commander and spot during the turns you're usually wishing you didn't have to engage all of your spotters in frantic, sacrificial move blocking.
So with the Coldstar it's roughly 20-23 wounds vs T3/4, 15-17 vs T5 at AP-2 and that's excluding the HOBC completely. Already pretty decent but we must also try to weigh this units high independence, overwatch threat, mobility, and ability to dish out mortal wounds (and no I haven't forgotten about the fabled Farsight tank shock but to be honest I don't have much of an idea about how good it is in actuality this edition so I just sort of feel unable to add this in to the equation. That's on me.).
The damage would be slightly less on an Enforcer but then of course you get to save points and you get his lovely durABILITY. And does it even matter that you can't zoom when you can use the tiny blade to get 3" inside of them? Does anyone else just picture a 3" inch knife when you think of 'The Shortened Blade' because of your inability to not think about the rules for a moment? Because I can't not picture a 3" inch blade and it irritates me because it looks pathetic in my mind's eye. Now is the time to speak up if you share my pain. But anyway the Enforcer just seems very delicious in this type of plan given that we have amazing access to the deep and important areas of the board. You know .. Could it just be that worsening incoming AP on a unit that really needs to be killed is just really fucking good when the nearby enemy infantry can't move a muscle without getting completely cooked? I really would implore anyone who doesn't think this codex is strong or fun to keep reading and stay curious.
If anyone has any insights or thoughts I'd sincerely like to hear them as I feel that a lot of this conversation thus far has come down to more guns is better. Something which is admittedly true for us most of the time. Hopefully no matter what you think you can see this is a pretty good example of nice internal balance. Perhaps Firesight can't match up to the Commanders on the top, top level of the game (but perhaps he can?!) but I think clearly his access to free Arro'kon Protocols make him a real punchy threat on top of what is already a cool looking, versatile-ish, 8W 2+/4++ utility leader.
To the one Shas'O that read the whole thing, thanks, but get back to work. Your boss has noted this is your third extended toilet break of the morning and he is on the brink of offering you unsolicited dietary advice.

In the quiet confines of their Jamestown home, Ashley's day unfolds against the backdrop of Erik's looming presence, a figure shrouded in the shadows of his past. As he languishes in his bedroom, a tangible aura of tension hangs heavy in the air, signaling yet another bout of discord between the couple.
For Ashley, the strains of their relationship play out in the intimate confines of her live streams, offering glimpses into the complexities of their dynamic. Muted interludes punctuate the broadcast as she navigates heated exchanges with Erik, their disagreements casting long shadows over the day's proceedings.
The specter of Ashley's long-abandoned red car serves as a poignant reminder of past tribulations, a tangible artifact of unresolved conflict resurfacing amidst the turmoil of their present reality. Yet, it is Erik's enigmatic past that casts the longest shadow over their lives, his notoriety in Jamestown's local drug scene a topic fraught with unanswered questions and uneasy implications.
Whispers of Erik's past as "Kilo," a moniker bestowed upon him by the older denizens of Jamestown for his purported importance in the drug world, linger in the recesses of Ashley's mind. Was it the allure of his notoriety that initially drew her in, or the promise of stability amidst the chaos of her own life? As she grapples with the complexities of their relationship, Ashley finds herself confronting uncomfortable truths about her own desires and aspirations.
As the day wears on, observations about the shifting patterns of Ashley's live streams spark speculation among her followers, prompting whispers of constraint and coercion lurking beneath the surface. Is Ashley truly free to live her life on her own terms, or is she bound by the invisible chains of Erik's influence and control?
Against this backdrop of uncertainty and unease, Ashley's appearance serves as a poignant reflection of her inner turmoil. Her once vibrant demeanor now bears the weight of her struggles, a silent testament to the toll taken by her tumultuous relationship with Erik. As she retreats into the quiet solitude of her bedroom, the soft glow of her phone screen casting fleeting shadows across her face, Ashley succumbs to exhaustion, drifting into a fitful sleep amidst a tangle of blankets and cables, her four phones cradled in her arms like precious lifelines in the darkness of the night. And as the world outside fades into oblivion, Ashley is left to confront the ghosts of her past and the uncertainties of her future in the solitary sanctuary of her dreams.

Hello 23 F here. I am killing myself June 1st at I dont know when.
if someone happens to stumble upon my account after im gone just know this is a very tough decision to make. I know the consequences of my actions and I know my loved ones dont deserve this. Especially my brother.
He is the reason for me living so far but unfortunately Im at my end. My mental health has gotten so bad to the point I think its best for everyone around me if I go.
I want them to he happy and care free. Grief is something people can get over. I want them to know I tried everything.
I tried praying, reading Quran, therapy, medications exercising whatever I had in me I did.
I am terrified of whats gonna happen next. I want my brother to be safe so im gonna leave all the money in my bank account for him so he can do whatever he wants with it in the future.
I also pre wrote him letters for his big days. Hes the only person im sad in letting go of.
Im sad I cant stay his big sister forever.
I have days where my mental pain turns physical and I cant shower anymore without holding on the handle.
Ive also gotten to the point of forgetting to buy clothes for myself. At night I see what seems like visions ? of past trauma and it makes shake and cry uncontrollably.
This has gone for years. Im proud of myself for staying alive for this long.
I feel sorry for how my actions will affect others but this is the most selfish and selfless action I'll ever do in my life.
It's liberating and terrifying at the same time.
Please try to understand that I tried my best to get better and live with the depression and thoughts. I tried my absolute best and it still wasnt enough.
Ive lost my career friends and everything else because of it. I thought once im healthier than I can move on in my life but theres a couple weeks where im okay and then its the same thing again.
I cant keep living in fear of when the next episode will come.
My poor parents do so much for me and they are also tired i want to give them some rest. My death will be eaiser to bear than dealing with me alive.
its eaiser to say my daughter has passed vs shes at home taking medication.
I hope you all understand. Thank you.

So some background first I guess, my wife and I live in South East Asia and there are a lot of independent contract workers who usually give cheaper prices and are a little more flexible than larger Interior Design companies here. Those companies are usually for the rich and although we don't exactly struggle we're not rolling in it either.
So we get to the kitchen, hire a guy, we agree on a price etc, etc. Asks us to pay 80% up front and we do. He tells us it will be a little while for him to order parts and build some of the cabinets. Great, no problem.
We also want to add a sliding door to our TV cabinet, a big floor to ceiling thing and he says he can do that too. We told him that the wood needs a bracket to hold it steady and small wheels so it can move through the ceiling bracket etc. Sure, he says no issues. He wants to come and do the measurements though so they are right. We offer to buy the ceiling bracket as we can get it pretty cheap ourselves. But remind him again he will need a bracket to go around the door to hold it steady (this is important later).
Day before he is due to come, still no measurements, he then turns up late in afternoon on a Thursday to get the measurements and confirm the start of the work the next Monday (8th April). Bear in mind that I am a school teacher and at this point it was the Easter break and I had a week left.
So they turn up on Monday and get cracking, his workers are great, they get a lot of work done on the Monday until they realise they have somehow designed and fitted the wrong cabinet in the kitchen. Guy admits to his mistake and offers to build a new one and change it for us, in the meantime they continue working.
End of Tuesday they leave and then... we dont see them again. Still work to do so we send him a text asking when he's next coming because, as im off work, its a great time ot get everything done. He says he will be here the next day. Nothing. No text from him, we text him and ask if he's coming, nothing.
Friday of that week and still nothing, we ask if he's coming on the friday and he says he will come Saturday morning. Saturday rolls around and nothing, so we text him again. He says afternoon but still nothing.
So we're a bit pissed but stuff happens, lack of communication is annoying as hell though. This continues throughout the next week or so. He says he is coming "tomorrow at 10:30" every time and never does. We have to chase him up and we have to figure out if he's showing up or not. This is happening on weekdays and more annoyingly weekends.
So I call the guy, I'm reasonable enough if not a little annoyed, ask him whats going on and he promises to show up on the following monday, its now the 29th. He comes and we just tell him that we want clearer communication from him, if he isn't going to come then fine just don't say he is and don't waste our weekends. He says it's because the cabinet isn't built yet and that takes time, which is fine if he had just told us that then no problem. So anyway, he turns up on that Monday with a few bits they can do and they bring the wrong things... whatever, anyway this is "our week" now so he's definitely coming. He doesn't come. Again same thing, we are chasing him, he is ignoring phone calls and not replying to texts.
Finally we get through to him on the Friday, he said the cabinets still not built (despite promising us that it was our week to get everything done) and that he will be coming on Monday for sure. Guess what happens on Monday... and Tuesday. So now I'm pissed. After work I drive to his factory, he's not there but a couple of his workers are, I ask where he is and he's out. So I call him, I was mad, didn't let him speak at the start and he hung up on me. Won't answer my calls and will only speak to my wife who he's getting made at. Stating that we kept adding things to the order (half true, we asked for a draw in the bedroom to be modified a little bit which he agreed to do for free because in his words it was only a small matter) and that he had to build a bracket for the wooden door which we never told him about, which we clearly did, he says that it's already cheap price and that we should be patient while he builds the things we need. Then said that I went to his factory and was causing trouble, which I absolutely was not, I was calm with his workers, it's not their fault at all.
Anyway, I feel like we have been patient enough, coupled with the lack of communication and (I forgot to mention until now) leaving our house looking like a construction site which we can't clean because he keeps saying he's coming the next day and would make it a mess again. We are still halfway through the renovation and can't continue it until this is finished. Anyway, he says he is only going to finish the job that is on the original agreement and nothing else (no slide door and stuff), turns out he's arrived today, he's doing the slide door and the kitchen today and tomorrow.
Anyway, am I the asshole here for getting mad at him?

I’m playing the Lego movie video game on Steam deck and in the construction site level (story mode) whenever I fix the speakers the dance won’t start. I’m stuck in a loop for it and it won’t proceed. I’ve seen other people with this issue but it always seems to be in free play and they are told to just make sure you ply as emmet and gale. I’ve tried restarting and trying again multiple times but I keep getting the same issue. Any help would be appreciated.

Helena - Courtlady of Lannisport

Part 1

Reddit Account: SunstriderAlar
Discord Tag: u/SunstriderAlar
Name and House: Helena
Age: 22
Cultural Group: Westerman
Appearance: Helena is a young woman with soft doe-eyes, and unmistakable curling, golden hair. Raised by smallfolk, and Septa’s she wears her hair up and away from her face to ensure she does not let it get wet while cleaning or in her mouth while singing. She has delicate, porcelain, pale skin and cloudy soft blue eyes. No taller than 5’5” and is most often dressed in conservative simple fashions gathered by herself, or more elegant options gifted to her by a doting patron for formal events. Never shy to present her opinion, Helena has seen the world change, and her place in it numerous times. She is unafraid to do what she must, but knows the role of a woman.
Helena prefers to wear blue and yellow, the colours of Lord Swyft’s old sigil even though she has not lived in Cornfield for many years, and has no personal attachment to the house. Her real love though is unique broaches, and hairpins, different pins reveal different favours or stylings for different lords. She does enjoy crafting dresses as well, when the rare bolt of fabric comes her way she enjoys sewing and tailoring. She is often seen carrying a unique wooden six stringed lyre, or a three stringed lute; the former the cause for her name the Six Eyed Singer. She daps herself with lavender water most mornings, and cleans her teeth with mint, and rose now that she is employed by the Lannisters of Lannisport. Clean teeth are the hallmark of a charming, easy smile to make hearts of men and women alike flutter.
Trait: Elusive Shadow
Skill(s): Espionage, Devious, Schemer, Covert, Rumourmonger
Talent(s): Storyteller, lyre playing, deft fingers
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): The Six-Eyed Singer, Septa Morgan, Jinny of Aegon’s Rest
Starting Location: Opening event

Part 2: Biography

Swyft Sept (3AC - 15AC)
Helena’s early life began in the Sept of Cornfield where her mother begged the Septa’s to take her. Dutifully, though reluctantly, they agreed, for what else were they to do, and where else was the girl to go. To the Governess of Cornfield, under the sanctity of the confessional, the woman, aching from the pain of birth and shame, confessed that the little girl was the bastard of Lord Swyft. The Governess, doubtful but knowing the man was not without vice, kept the secret to herself and allowed the girl to remain. The woman, who’s name was never revealed even to the Septa's, fled into the night shortly after never to be seen again. Helena was then, as promised, raised by the septas and the Governess of House Swyft. She learns basic literacy from the Seven Pointed Star with the Sisters and numbers from the Governess. Alongside her studies, she was put to work on chores like maid work, baking, cooking, cleaning, and serving Lord Swyft.
In 11AC, a travelling minstrel named The Lying Lyre arrived at Cornfield. A dashing young man with a shock of blonde curls that tumbled down his back like a mullet captivated Helena with his songs of far-off lands and noble families. In particular he sang of the Maiden’s Bay Tourney, the feats of House Targaryen, and after some time the Field of Fire and the failings of House Lannister. House Swyft was wealthy, and the Liar’s talents earned him much and more coin from the silver mines.
Helena of an age where curiosity ruled a child’s mind was enamoured with the man and his songs. She took up practising the lyre with him, and discovered that while no maestro, she had deft fingers and a mind for lyrics. Impressed by her interest and talent, the Liar gifted her a lyre before he left for future profits in far off lands. Some years of practice though, and a natural storyteller and rumourmonger Helena combined tales of the Seven Pointed Star and was invited to sing in the sept and even twice for Lord Swyft.
Six Eyed Singer (15AC - 20AC)
It was not to last though and following the slaughter in the Kingswood, the line of House Swyft was extinguished. Not wanting to test the new residents of Cornfield, the Warriors Sons and Poor Fellows, after all, all men have vice, she left Cornfield, and took to singing on the road. Going under the name Lyrebird, Helena played and sang for her coin and lodgings, a young girl protected only by being seen when she wanted and an elusive shadow when she did not.
Times on the road were not easy and The Lyrebird drew much attention. This necessitated the need for another alter ego and after a year on the road and towns and villages through the West were soon visited by the travelling Septa Morgan. The Septa heard confessions and sins, gave forgiveness and offered small advice to the poor and needy. She spared coins where she could and allowed Helena to remain covert. It did not matter to most that she was no real septa, she wore the robes, knew the words, and offered as a good moral compass to children. For most in the far flung reaches of the West she was enough.
Being raised in the faith though telling a perpetual lie about being a sister of the cloth was a little too much to bear for Helena. After a year with the reputation of Septa Morgan growing through the small folks of small villages, the Septa soon faded away. Instead Jinny of Aegon’s Rest started coming to smaller castles; Turnbury, Redbramble, Parren Hall, Oldstars and the like. She took on odd jobs cleaning, cooking, teaching a daughter to read or a son to do his numbers. She was after all no threat, knew her letters and numbers herself, and was capable of scheming many a septa or fatherly gatesman to let her in.
Jinny of Aegon’s Rest became a traveller through the keeps of the Westerlands. She heard the tales from children and small folk alike. She had never meant to undertake espionage, but her place inside various courts across the land, and her talent for being in the right place at the right time meant she was an unfortunate witness to many a courtly intrigue. As her small gifts earned her again a broad reputation she would be traded between greater lords. Soon she was playing for the elite, and earning the rewards that came with it. Helena of Cornfield once again took a new name, the Six Eyed Singer, which she quickly used to escape her courtly life and take again to the road as a travelling minstrel.
The Strawberry Tourney and Ball (20AC - Current)
The Six Eyed Singer formed a little bard troupe, nothing extravagant, she wasn’t playing for the Lannisters or the Targaryen’s yet, but enough to provide several shows across the Westerlands, Reach, and former Kingdom of the Trident. Her troupe, much like she had been accidentally, was devious, and while she or they sang, pockets were pinched, and many houses were looted. Her troupe when apart played for all the minor and middle nobles of the Trident and of the Reach too now. She and they were as much a part of the debauchery of the West as any of the wealthy merchants. There was no party too scandalous, no whorehouse unsung, no court too far flung for the right price and the West had gold burning through pockets.
The Six Eyed Singer was not the only bard with a troupe though and soon through the Kingdoms after Aegon’s conquest artisans, bards, and mummers alike filled the world with talent. In 20AC the Songbird made its mark, and with a little bit of fun, a lot of resentment for nobility, and an ingrained childlike sense of chaos, the first of the Songbirds’ letters sang. The voice of the little people flooded across the western coast of the Iron Throne. Lord Belaerys’ dragon had eaten several children whilst growing fat and hungry. Lancel Lannister had claimed the maidenhood of his chambermaid, and sired a bastard all at the age of just fifteen. Lord Frey schemed against his overlord for a free and independent Trident once again. Was all of it true? Impossible to say, but there were enough truths to turn heads, and the songs of the Songbird began to cause chaos in the Westerlands most of all. The Six Eyed Singer and her troupe played through it all, they were bards, but the Songbird was the most famous one of all; not their little merry band.
The Six Eyed Singer though continued her good work, and with her reputation came an invite to participate at the Strawberry Tourney and Ball alongside the other bardic troupes of the West and Reach. She was not so famous as to be alone, merely enough to earn an invite, and a paid job. The planning was years long, and with new songs and tunes came new rumours. While the Six-Eyed Singer played songs such as Fleece-eye, Dornish Sour Grapes, and Lion of the West, the Songbird worked their chaos.
A ripple pulsed through the tourney, first a cheater in the joust was revealed, Ser Byron who was disqualified as a result. Then a second cheater, this time in the melee, then a third cheater again in the joust Lord Payne had accepted a bribe from Lord Reyne to fall early. Cheating in the tourney was just the start, cheating in the bedroom of the ball was the main affair. Here the Songbird revealed three affairs; Lords Serret and Lyden were both fathers to children on women , not their wives. While Lady Serret and Lady Ruskin were bedfriends behind their husbands’ backs. There was one final scandal though, which was revealed to all at the tourney. Septon Karron was no true anointed Septon, and worse there was legitimacy to foulness surrounding young boys who served him.
The chaos broke over the tourney and all the artisans in attendance were forced to flee. Yet, all was not lost, for Lord Gerold Lannister of Lannisport had taken his eye to Helena and her playing. He offered her a job, for he wished to be a great sponsor of art in the new Seven Kingdoms. So it was she came to a courtly position, advising the Lord Lannister on matters of fine art, musicians, mummery, and all manner of artisanal dealings.
Timeline
3AC - Helena is born in the Sept of Cornfield, her mother a woman from Silverhill who begs the septa’s to take the girl in. She reveals her identity to the Governess of House Swyft, and claims the child is Lord Swyft’s bastard. She leaves shortly after giving birth and recovering.
4-10AC - She is raised in the cloister with the sisters, her Septa mothers raising her lessons on reading from the Seven Pointed Star, and numbers from the Governess to ensure that she can do basic arithmetic. She takes basic lessons in scullery maid work, baking, and general service work for old Lord Swyft.
11AC - A travelling minstrel, The Lying Lyre, comes through Cornfield to sing songs of the tourney of Maiden’s Bay, House Targaryen, and the Field of Fire. He takes a liking to the young Helena, and gifts her a lyre. He stays in Cornfield for some time, both because it is lucrative and because he enjoys teaching the young girl.
12-14AC - The Lying Lyre departs Cornfield but leaves a talented and hardworking Helena with the sisters once more. She takes to singing sections of the Seven Pointed Star, and even performs for Lord Swyft a few times.
15AC - The House of Swyft dies out and Helena, unaware of her claimed parentage but with a talent for song leaves the cloister and takes to the road, not trusting the new Warriors Sons or Poor Fellows. She uses the name Lyrebird and sings and plays her lyre for coin to survive.
16AC - After a year on the road Helena takes up the name Septa Morgan and takes to hearing confessions of the poor and needy across the Westerlands. Many of them need guidance and wearing her septa robes she is the perfect person to hear them. She is no real Septa but no amount of explaining the technicality of that stops people asking her to forgive them.
17AC - Her reputation as Septa Morgan grows a little too heavy on her shoulders, and Helena takes to wearing more common clothes, moving from keep to keep and working as a barmaid, scullery girl, and baker amongst other professions. She goes by the name Jinny of Aegon’s Rest.
18AC - Chance takes its favour on her, and Helena with her simple lyre is invited to play at a feast in Lannisport. Dressed now as a travelling minstrel she performs for the gathered nobles and earns herself invitations to other keeps. With her generous benefactors she hires a small troupe to perform her songs across the West.
19AC - Travelling the Westerlands, Helena under the moniker The Six Eyed Singer, takes her talents for being present at feasts and gatherings of all sorts.
20AC - Rumour of The Songbird takes hold, and the West is awash in the voice of the little people.
21AC - The Strawberry Tourney and Ball unfolds and Helena’s skills earn her favour with Lord Gerold Lannister.
22AC - Lord Gerold Lannister recognising her many talents picked her up to be one of the primary serving women in his House. His eye for artistic endeavours endeared him to her enough for a comfortable place as a favoured bard, painter, educator, and common court woman.

I'm looking for a fic that is essentially a bunch of world building for the Starks. I forgot to bookmark it or mark it for later and I am regretting that so much 😭😭.
Details that I remember: - a bunch of world building that benefited the North and Starks - Giants, Free Folk and Children of the Forest are involved. I think Brandon (the Builder) married a Child of the Forest - Brandon builds King Durran’s Castle in Storm's End - a bunch of failed Andal invasions - A Stark marries a daughter House of Belaerys after the Doom of Valyria. Their children and their descendants have a streak of silver hair. (maybe one purple eye??? Not sure) - House Belaerys came with a bunch of refugees. Created a Little Valyria district in Wintercity (upgrade from Wintertown) - there was this one chapter where they found giant eagles and they bonded with them and can now ride them - The conquest of Westeros happens. There was a part where Argella Durrandon was presented naked to Orys Baratheon as a surrender. Orys marries her - Aegon tried to conquer the North and he failed. North used the giant eagles to fight the dragons. North made Rhaenys a hostage. Aegon traded Rhaenys for Visenya. Meraxes died from a scorpion weapon I think. Not sure if Rhaenys survived that. - Torrhen or his son marries Visenya. Starks after that now has two streaks of silver in their hair (like Rogue from X-Men). - Dance of Dragons happened. Baby Targaryen blamed Starks for not helping Rhaenyra
I don’t remember much after that. Pretty sure it’s incomplete. It was on AO3.
I tried googling and searching through these tags: - The North is Powerful (A Song of Ice and Fire) - The North is Independent (A Song of Ice and Fire)
I read from AO3 so much that my history is useless.
If anyone knows what and where this fic is, please reply with the link 🙏🙏🙏

Also did a Bible study devotional today on the topic of (Irritability looking into 1 Corinthians 13:5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;) trying to ponder on this the effects words can have the effects of irritability can have upon emotions and actions and read a commentary on this before the BMX & Draw stream
Link to the entire stream the Bible study devotional is at the very beginning of the stream
https://m.twitch.tv/videos/2145009654
Anyone interested in the process for todays draw and ink here is the start to finish I haven’t inked in along time it can be quite challenging which is why I don’t do it as much anyone have any tips on traditional inking there’s so much amazing Christian artwork that’s been done in ink throughout history. If anyone wants this for free as a gift just let me know and I can try and mail it
https://m.twitch.tv/videos/2145313446
Some verses looked into today
1 Corinthians 13:1-7 (ESV)
1 If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. 7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
John 13:35
35 By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
James 3:6-10
6 And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell. 7 For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, 8 but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. 9 With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. 10 From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so.
Luke 9:23
23 And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.

Hellooo I’m looking for new people to hang out with im 19 I live in Texas and love to sing and dance, alsooo cooking, I have 4 pets I love cats (cat pics are welcome) feel free to message me I’m an open book and love yapping

Unbound and unleashed, Sometimes wild and sometimes sullen, Majestic and dashing, yet Held and aloof The deep blue sea has a mesmerizing effect on me,
My heart wishes that it could be like the sea, Like a child’s dream, Running wild and free, Dancing with the world inside, With some mysterious stories, Embracing the largest and Holding the smallest, Beautiful creatures that Nature could be,
The deep blue sea has a mesmerizing effect on me.

So with the new album being out I tought it would be fun to rate each song. I haven’t really done this since YITS was released. Also this are my personal opinions, its ok if you don’t agree with mine. Also feel free to leave your own rating from each sing and what you thought if all of them in the comments!
Solar Power:6.6/10
Yall can come from me idc but I didn’t really like with the song. I admit it sounded way better than I initially thought it would but I honestly don’t vibe with it as much as the other songs from the album, but Solar Power isn’t a bad song don’t get me wrong! Honestly happy that Gunwook was finally able to rap since he expressed interest on rapping for a while now.
Feel The Pop:9.2/10
I honest really liked Feel The Pop a lot, I thoughts it was pretty cute and fun! Each member stood out to me in a good way which I absolutely loved and the line distribution was a bit more fair the Sweat’s line distribution. I am a sucker for bright and cute concepts and for me I personally think zb1 as a group fit brighter concept(I am not saying they don’t fit a mature concept, because they do but I would say a brighter concepts fit them more). They are some questionable lines like the zippy zippy line in Gunwook’s rap but overall its an amazing song. I really want to see an encore for this song on music shows!
Dear Eclipse:8.7/10
Ricky wasn’t lying when he said this song is good, this song literally makes me want to go downtown and drive through Chicago city while I listen to this song. I really like each of the members vocals in it and I can’t wait to see them perform this song live on their tour.
Sweat:9.7/10
Sweat is an amazing song. Literally everything about sweat is amazing, the intro, the chorus, the bridge, literally everything about the song is amazing. I also really liked how each member had their own shining part in the song and plus the dance is amazing. Honestly I also ratee it this high because really want to release this song for us to enjoy. I love sweat and I know this song will be on repeat this summer for me.
Sunday Ride:8.2/10
When I listened to the album sampler I was most excited for this song. While its my second to last favorite song from the album I really enjoyed it.
Hello:10/10
Were do I start with hello…. This song is just wonderful. The vocals and emotions on this song from the members is amazing. While I listened to this song it made me remember their journey from boys planet and zb1 and how much they been through and seeing them get closer and closer as not only members, but family in a way. I know I am saying this a lot but the vocals?! AMAZING! Seeing the members perform this song live and the emotion put into this was honestly emotional, im happy I was able to join their journey since literally the signal song was released and I can’t wait with whats yet to come. I am ready to support all 9 of them, even after they go their own paths. Sorry kinda went off topic but this is how emotional the song got me😭. This song literally makes me want to go to each if the members individual company and beg them to extent their contracts and if they decline then burn them all to the ground which I know I will get arrested and put in life sentence but atleast the members will be able to stay as a group(IM JOKING BY THE WAY DON‘T TAKE THIS SERIOUSL! ARSON IS A HORRIBLE CRIME).
Overall:8.7/10
You Had Me At Hello is truly an amazing album, everything about the album is perfect. I liked how the raps segments weren’t that heavy and were pretty fun. The vocals in this album were amazing like O can’t even explain how much I loved them. This album was really good and if you haven’t listened to it as a full than do it!

I am sitting in one of the disused but quite beautiful parts of the neighborhood, waiting for it to rain.
The rain has already come and gone, a light rain that left traces of dampness on the pavement – the shade of the spring day darkens, becomes real, which is a comfort because that realness, that feeling of extra substance, comes from the water cycle working the way it's supposed to.
I feel it around my nostrils, on the cheeks of my face near the eyes, like I'm a frog looking up from its pond water, which is a pleasant feeling to sashay around town with. This is the spring we all know, the moisture appearing on my skin after driving miles above the earth ten minutes earlier –
an epic plunge is what we are walking through, but it's already rising again, and let's face it – we live in a cook pot set on media, I mean medium – medium is the setting on the cook pot, which notice is more than a crock. From the frog’s point of view, it is ideal.
From our point of view, standing in the chop of the water cycle, we are soaring in the air – then minutes from now, we might be walking in the clouds, and who knows after that, but this is the context for comings and goings this mid-afternoon – this potential for levitation.
I find a broad and elegant tree stump to sit on and record the concrete. Someday we'll all have concrete recorders but today, we just have me.
The stumps are not indigenous to the property, at least I don't think so, but I'm not exactly sure why I don't think that, given that the facility that occupies the block was once probably a forest with abundant marshy places. The forest went, then some infrastructural evolution played out that upcycled into a world-class performing arts center.
Given that my art, before it is anything, is performative – watch the monkey paint words with a stick – I'm hand-in-glove with the performance of the plaza.
I am sitting in a grove of tree stumps, which automatically brings to mind entropy – we all will die someday, become handsome all-weather furniture that slowly disintegrates – but then the overwhelming pleasantness of the day causes the thought to move on, and the stumps become a moment in time that is also a cross-section of full biography, which is quite a thing to be sitting on, waiting for the rain.
The forecast, which I predict would be one of the more impressive modern achievements to the humans who lived through the ice age – just an opinion. The forecast –
I picture their faces in stunned wonder as weather prediction after weather prediction comes true. The forecast
says there is a one-hundred percent chance of rain later this afternoon, time precise to the quarter hour, but with Doppler weather radar, one can make one's own data-driven prediction about when the rain will start to the nearest few minutes.
Someday we'll wear watches that are nothing but countdown clocks ’til the next time the forecast calls for rain – when the clock reaches the nearest minute, it switches to seconds.
This broad, elegant stump I'm sitting on sets on a bed of gravel which, when it rains, can convince me it is river gravel – pick up a few of the rounded stones, give them a close look for evidence of the past. I briefly imagine
finding the remains of a sauropod, each piece of gravel containing a tiny piece of a single sauropod, which together add up to the most complete sauropod skeleton yet discovered.
The stump is all take and no give, and yet I think I prefer it to popping open a lawn chair – the imperviousness of the stump being conducive to recording the concrete.
My backside is about eighty-years wide, which is older than my age, which inspires thoughts about backing into predestination, at least where just sitting around on a fine spring day is concerned. Like a bump on a log in a way, and let's face it – the concrete doesn't get much more concrete than that. A splashing sound
comes from the page. I scan the paper like it’s the sky, and I'm waiting for an aerial firework to open, then I find the spot of rain splashed across the phrase think so – think so, is the phrase – which is followed by a second raindrop, this one hitting the word water, causing the ink to run a little.
A one-hundred percent chance – does that even make sense? I picture a barrel of rain, rolling across the plains. Perhaps we should feel lucky for being visited by such a probability – possibly years before it rolls around again.
Rain will undoubtedly fall at this time, we say to our ice-age guests, and they will hold up the one hand like it's rain, hold up the other like it's time, weigh the two sides side-by-side maybe, maybe invent that gesture where the dancer holds both palms above their heads, lifts them up and down like they're raising the roof.
Still, I'm not sure they'll really understand all those computer models, wrapping themselves around big-data projects involving sensors and rain gauges deployed across the land, starting centuries ago. Science raised the roof, we might say, at least as far as weather prediction is concerned.
I sense the rain not exactly letting up, retreat to the interior of the performing arts center after taking a few notes.
Along part of the gravel is a long puddle of water from the overnight rain, and I would need but a few fish bones or raccoon tracks to believe the whole thing was situated beside a river, the sort of gravel bed surging with snow melt earlier in the season.
This being the Midwest, higher elevations are usually metaphorical, metaphorical before they are anything else, and I think about the campus surging with graduates this past weekend, the landscape of human potential, in all directions, inundated by them.
Inside now, I see a balloon bouquet along one wall of the concourse, with gold Mylar affirmation – The Best Is Yet to Come! – floating on the end of a ribbon.
A one-hundred percent chance of rain – imagine telling all those graduates, you have a one-hundred percent chance of finding love within a fortnight. Call it a graduation gift, then imagine all those rain gauges quivering in their brackets at the thought of measurements certain to be made, collated, used to improve the algorithms that animate the global gods of rain.
At the far end of the concourse, a lady is teaching a gentleman how to dance – they aren’t touching, aren’t even facing each other – side-by-side – and I hear her call out the moves, move-by-move.
Maybe he’s an actor and she’s going over a certain bit of choreography for an upcoming production. Maybe he’s a restless spirit, and she’s teaching him the art of haunting.
That ghost forest in the gravel outside is adjacent to one of the busiest intersections on campus, and yet, turn your back to it, and it becomes just another element in the stopping and starting of the cosmos.
I could see to either end of the block from that broad, elegant tree stump I was sitting on without really being seen from the street which, along with a lush stand of grass in a nearby raised garden bed, brings to mind the wide-open prairie from centuries past.
I picture deer bounding over golden rod. I picture foxes negotiating cone flowers.
The interior of the performing arts center is designed around the premise of potential – four theaters in league with the cardinal directions, plus a blindingly white amphitheater and a low stage in the concourse itself, where they hand out complimentary spliffs and pass around community bongs during free upbeat life-affirming musical programs, attended by folks after the workday is over, plus a helping of retirees.
Okay, not grass but alcohol, but you get the point – people enjoy shindigs now and then. The lady and gentleman are out of sight, but she’s still giving direction – I can hear their back and forth somewhere around the curve in the wall,
which might stand for the passing of time. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back! For real this time! I imagine myself destroying the pasodoble – no, god, my boot heels! The planks on the floor! I take it back!
The sun returns, so I pick up my things, head back out to that secluded space, spend a few minutes admiring the resoundingly designed program of the building.
Preformed white concrete panels are suspended twelve feet off the ground to establish the roof of the entrance. Ninety-degree angles abundantly in evidence. Brick pixelates the angled outer walls with the stuff of the earth. Ultra-high resolution, they call it around the masonic lodge.
Someone in the amphitheater is having their photo taken by a professional – everyone loves to do photo shoots there. She is wearing dark knee socks, a navy jumper and a blue bowl haircut, or maybe it’s a wig – I can’t tell from here. I picture anime or promotional material for this fine spring day.
A squirrel bounds through the grass – then poses in front of me, paws together, as though summoning oration.
A robin alights on the stone cladding of the raised beds, begins to stand exclusively on its left leg. The leg is angled under the center of mass – it’s a practiced move.
No one knows why the American robin does this – maybe it’s like bird meditation, though the memory of the American robin is so specifically extraordinary when it comes to navigation and geospecific locations that effectively, at the sensual level on up, it is living in a reality separate from our own, so who knows what meditation might mean.
They can see the magnetic fields of the earth in their eyes using a protein called cryptochrome, which reacts to magnetism. Cryptochrome – like something from the Marvel universe.
Maybe when the American robin stands on its left leg, it’s spacing out to the daytime reality of solar storms, the whole environment all aflutter with a phenomenology of waves passing around the material world.
The robin and the squirrel go their separate ways, and I feel the temperature drop – ah, me! the pasodoble! – as the next part of the front crosses campus.
A peel of thunder indicates the breaking of the sound barrier by means of electromagnetism and the displacement of gasses. Electromagnetic properties experience disequilibrium as a kind of earthquake in the sky that causes the air to vibrate in an awe-inspiring way – the sound magnetic fields make when they rearrange themselves in a gaseous atmosphere.
We are fluid dwellers, through and through, we humans and mammals and reptiles and amphibians and lichen gnawing on patches of the plaza’s concrete. Maybe from the standpoint of the atmosphere, land is just one big coral reef.
When that perfect destiny began to drop rain, the sound at first was curious, expectant – an all-squinty-eyed-and-kissy-faced sort of rain began to fall that grew into a snowy hum that seemed to have a simple song playing inside it, like someone playing a ukulele in the room next door, singing along.
The gig carries on for twenty minutes or so – an opening act – before the rain begins to march double time through the streets – barely soldiers even when they were soldiers.
Less tactic and more matador, this rain storm, and its boot heel crashes down on the planking of the still-lovely spring day. These magnetic storms are not
for war making, nor fighting bulls, nor even for entertaining that cosmic bird called the American robin. What are they for then?
American robins also configure their flight by the stars, by remembering features on the land, by creating mental maps of it all.
And they swim with both grace and endurance, as they navigate this liquid world, this concrete way of life.
In the moment, they are roosting in a tree, observing the silver magnetic waves marching through the streets. Made of what? The pasodoble! Concrete.

/LonghornNation Daily Off Topic Free Talk Thread

Today: 5/14/2024

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Here's a look at upcoming Longhorn Sporting Event(s):

1. 5/14 7:30 AM University of Texas Men's Golf vs NCAA Regional Championship
2. 5/15 7:30 AM University of Texas Men's Golf vs NCAA Regional Championship
3. 5/16 4:00 PM University of Texas Men's Tennis vs Tennessee
4. 5/16 6:30 PM University of Texas Baseball vs Kansas
5. 5/17 University of Texas Women's Golf vs NCAA Championships
6. 5/17 3:00 PM University of Texas Softball vs Siena
7. 5/17 6:30 PM University of Texas Baseball vs Kansas

Trending on Reddit

/All

1. The size comparison between a female and male Kodiak bear
2. Artist fills landscape of a photo by hand
3. My kid (11) lost points on his extra credit assignment because it was “bent”
4. TIL in 2020, five Lithuanian soldiers went missing during a graduation exam. Thinking the exercise was still ongoing, they successfully evaded all attempts to find them. A military spokesman said their performance was "exemplary."
5. “If you don’t like paying taxes, make billionaires pay their fair share and you would never have to pay taxes again.” —Warren Buffett

/CFB

1. /CFB Donates $18,000.00 to Toys For Tots & Children's Hospitals, thanks to the 8th annual Holiday Drive!
2. UW and Oregon football fans join forces to raise money for young girl with cancer
3. [McMurphy] UNC trustee Dave Boliek is "advocating" for UNC to join a higher-revenue league. "That's what we need to do," Boliek said. "We need to do everything we can to get there. Or the alternative is the ACC is going to have to reconstruct itself. I think all options are on the table"
4. [Canzano] Oregon State and Wazzu have kept in communication with the Big 12 since last August. OSU AD Barnes said of the Big 12: "We want to continue to foster relationships there. That is certainly part of the strategy." Look for more tentacles of the relationship to develop in the coming months.
5. Colorado-Nebraska Week 2 will be played on NBC at 6:30pm
6. 3 FOX Big Noon Games announced

/LonghornNation

1. [5/13/2024] Monday's Sports Talk Thread
2. [5/13/2024] Monday's Free Talk Thread
3. 2025 3* OL Jackson Christian commits to Texas
4. Texas returns to the D1Baseball rankings, at #25
5. SEC announces opponents and locations for 2024-25 Men’s Basketball schedule
6. NCAA Softball
7. [Post Series Thread] ⚾ Texas defeats UCF, 2-1

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