My psychiatrist wants to put me on Adderall 5mg for anxiety. She says the anxiety is rooted in ADHD. I’m already on Abilify 10mg (i’m a small human), Mirtazipine, Lamotrigine, and Prazosin. I’m hesitant to add another chemical to my body, is this a real thing? I have debilitating anhedonia and anxiety. I really need something to help me. The mirtazipine was supposed to help but it doesn’t actually work “all the way” it only works like 50%, and 50% is still too much. Anyone else been prescribed a stimulant for anxiety or anhedonia?

Maybe I’m reading into how effective sea prism stone is to devil fruit users but I wonder if touching the stone turns the affiliated devil fruit proportions of your body back to normal?
as in normal human body form.
if Buggy was touching sea prism would he be vulnerable to cutting?

Platform(s): PC
Genre: Top-down Zoo Simulator game, but like a 3/4ths angle?
Estimated year of release: 2010-2016
Graphics/art style: The UI had a blue background, and the animals, People, and plants were fairly realistic, if not simplified since you never really had to see them up close. Typical cheap 3D Graphics for the time. There wasn't a lot of Shading on objects, the colors were fairly flat.
Notable characters: I believe the tutorial was told to you by a woman in a ponytail, either blonde or brunette. She and maybe a Male partner would give you daily quests? But other than that there wasn't any real people. The male either had black hair, or he was old and gray, and they both were wearing typical zookeeper attire. The Woman's name might start with a K.
Notable gameplay mechanics: It was a Zoo Simulator, and you would play each day out, with a dark 'dusk' period before you would open for the day and you would use that extra time to take care of animals and build things without people in the way, though you could still do that even during the day. You could pay for advertisements on Newspaper, Television, and Radio to get more visitors the next day. You weren't able to Remove fences, nor would the fences break over time. You would have to check the animals health, because they would get sick. The Tutorial would always start with you Building an enclosure for an African Buffalo. Sometimes you were given an animal from the wild who was sick and you would have a few days to take care of them before they were sent back to the wild, Or you kept them and the time limit was just to make sure you had a habitat ready for them. Also they would be super sick when they arrived and wouldn't be happy.
Other details: The App Icon was a panda, just like a model of the whole body in the Top-down 3/4ths perspective. When I got the game, it came in a box set with other Simulator game discs. One of them was a forest ranger game, which was 1st person pov, and there were no other humans and it creeped me out, walking in the woods with no real map or anything. There were a total of 5 or 6 other games that came with, but the zoo was my favorite, and I only remember the forest one because it scared me. I believe one of them was a Carnival Simulator. The title of the game starts with 'My' or 'Your' like 'My/Your Zoo World' or 'My/Your Zoo Simulator'. I remember the animals getting sick all the time, and I'd have to check my animals every two hours in game time. you were able to see how far the food/waterestroom/gift stalls were able to reach, like their zone od effectiveness. You could click on a person and they would have a name and you could see their thoughts about whatever they were looking at. There were research centers for discovering animals and a research center to "level up" your animals, to make them less likely to get sick/more fertile to help with engagement animals
It isn't Zoo Tycoon, Empires, Paradise, My Free Zoo, or Zoo Planet, I've already looked at them and they aren't it.

Here is the second half of a science fiction short story: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Vzy1Q0TUYmcS7ue2n--UBeAohbE6Z7PII3Cl1wATj00/edit?usp=sharing
I am not sure what the standard way is for someone to have just the second half of a story reviewed here but what I'll do is tell you the basic plot that has come before, then provide a link to the first half just in case you'd like to read the thing as a whole
Our story so far:
IN A WORLD set in an alternate near-future, where it has become routine and accepted for people to allow "Seeds" to take over their lives "body-snatchers" style, Thomas came home to find out his wife Maria had undergone this process without talking to him about it first. He was pretty upset (even though this process has become quite widespread and open and the public value is to simply accept it as a valid choice towards self-improvement (the body-snatchers are a little better at everything than normal humans), this doesn't mean everybody's perfectly happy about it all the time or is immediately ready on a dime to come to grips with the deep question of whether their loved one is now dead or not), and they argued. But they settled into a quiet routine in the following days, just going about their respective jobs and living around each other (divorce would have been gauche in a case like this, and legally they still owned the home together so, live together they did.) She spent this time quietly waiting for him maybe to come around. He spent the time sulking, and half-consciously processing the fact that he wasn't, technically, mourning.
It's important to note that these entities are called "Newborns," and up to this point in the story, in his thoughts and words Thomas (the PoV character) has only thought of this Newborn as "the Newborn," "it," "the Maria thing," things like that. I think sometimes "she" as well, but never by the name of his wife. The story up to this point doesn't make a big point about this, it's just the facts.
Special Concerns
Oh I've got special concerns. Real special concerns. But asking about them right this moment would actually mess with a reader's ability to approach the story as it is and with a natural reaction, so I reserve the right to ask about my special concerns in replies.
With that said, one thing I cannot cannot cannot get the hang of is naming this story. I'm open to advice on that front for sure!
Stories I critiqued:
1976: https://www.reddit.com/DestructiveReaders/comments/1cp4rrz/1976_memory_of_a_crow/
120: https://www.reddit.com/DestructiveReaders/comments/1cr1o8n/120_time_villanelle/
The COMPLETE story this is taken from, which you SHOULD NOT critique as a whole as this post is ONLY about the second half, is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1dz4frenCBzAZPiqywQgC5ndDjOK2zy9ND6INyLwZMMI/edit

i cant give too many details because i know him and his friends use reddit. ill just say this. im a minor and i dated a man over 15 years older than me. it was real life, not some online thing. we met at church. he broke up with me because he said im too young for him. after 2 years he just now realizes???? we dated for 2 years. my parents never found out. i cant do anything about it because we didnt do anything sexual because we were waiting for marriage. he convinced me my parents are bad. he isolated me and made me feel like i was going crazy for having normal human emotions. i have no other friends. he said really mean things to me. but i just want him to stay. he can keep being mean to me if he wants. he never even hit me and he was so gentle. he can do whatever he wants i just want him to stay. i will never find anyone else like him. he found me when i was really suffering and made me feel wanted. he blocked me on everything and he goes to a different church now. my formative years were wasted. i have nobody. he was the only reason i was alive. he helped me lose a lot of weight too and he gave me a healthy body. he did so much for me and now hes just left. i dont know what to do. i have nobody without him and now he is just gone. i hate him i hate him so much. how can someone born in an entirely different generation ever like someone so young? what the hell is wrong with him? why would he do this if he didnt even want anything sexual? i was going to drop out of school for him when i turned 18 and we were gonna move to Vermont and get married. so i didnt care about my grades. but now hes gone and i ruined my life. i will not get into college. i will not do anything with my life now and my grades cant be brought up. i used to be so smart. i used to have ambition. i wanted to be a lawyer. my only ambition was him after i met him and now hes gone and nothing is left. i cant do anything now. how can he jusy abandon me like this? for the past month since he left i have felt like im in 3rd person controlling a video game character

I know there are people who love cooking. I'm not one of those people, and I think that's perfectly ok. (I love cleaning, for example, and I know some people hate that.)
But the human body needs food, and cooking dinner every day is such a chore. After I get home around 7, I'm too tired to cook, and my cooking always turns out mediocre—edible, but just tolerable. I end up eating more or less the same thing every day, because I live by myself and can't buy variety, especially in veggies, without the ingredients going bad (why is everything sold in bulk???). At the end, cooking—and eating—dinner is a chore, like laundry or groceries, except it's a daily one after work instead of weekly on a weekend.
I've tried looking into how to solve this, and it seems most people living by themselves get by in one of two ways:

1. Meal prep: I can't stand eating the same food more than two days in a row. Just a personal thing.
2. A simple side with or variation of pasta or rice: I'm not a fan of either, or carbs-heavy food in general.

When I first started living by myself, I didn't like cooking so I just didn't eat dinner for a while. I lost about 30 lbs—enough for friends and coworkers to notice, and for family to worry. Now I eat out and order a lot, but it hurts to think how much I'm spending.
Does anyone else feel this way about cooking? How do I make it bearable?

• Species: Dog
• Age: 9
• Sex/Neuter status: Male Neutered
• Breed: Mix-boxer, doberman, sharpei, akita if embark is to be believed
• Body weight: 95lbs
• History: healthy until this month-diagnoed with mast cell tumor of leg and hemangiosarcoma of spleen
• Clinical signs: lump on leg
• Duration: months?
• Your general location: NY

Hello all appreciate any insights as a lot of this information came out of nowhere. Briefly my family dog whom was adopted by us at 5 years old healthy as far as we know. Over the last months we noticed he had a lump on his leg that grew more than some of his other lumps. He went ot vet and biopsied and concerning for mast cell tumor and removal was recommended. The day of surgery last week preop (unclear why) an ultrasound of abdomen done showed enlarged spleen concerning for mass and surgery was recommended and underwent. Today we got pathology report that indicates mass was hemangiosarcoma. Parents have a follow up in a few days and are recommended to see an oncologist. I was doing some research and it seems a lot of the time this is found late or after its ruptured so I have a few questions. 1. What is the usual clinical course for this diagnosis post removal if no chemo

1. Is dog chemo as rough on the system as human chemo often is, we don't want him to suffer especially if its not curative/significanlt yprolonging life span/quality.
   
2. What specific other questions should we ask our vet at follow up appointment about symptoms to evaluate, meds/treatment options
   
3. Is it known why this is so aggressive even post removal if there were no symptoms?
   

I'm one of those can just rarely feel affective empathy.
Empathy is the core of humanity, why we became as developed as we are today (oversimplification). Even babies can feel empathy. The body recognises the loss, in situations where I should feel empathy, I feel blank like something is missing and confused and feel physical pain.
My greatest grief is the distance I feel from others and my inability to relate to those flesh things we call "humans". My isolation is self imposed as I find it quite easy to make friends, I just hate the feeling of having them (though friendship strokes the ego). The world is but a lucid dream, my intense discomfort can break a sword.
Empathy, that shit is truly amazing. It feels great. I look upon my memories of feeling empathy with fondness.
I'm tired of feeling terrible, can't I at least have a chance at humanity?

Christianity teaches us to place our trust and faith in God alone. We believe that God is the creator of the universe and the ultimate authority over our lives.
Astrology, on the other hand, ascribes significance to the positions and movements of celestial bodies as they relate to human affairs.
This means you're placing trust in horoscopes and astrological predictions rather than in God's guidance and providence.
The Bible explicitly warns against practicing astrology and divination.
In Deuteronomy 18:10-12, it states, "There shall not be found among you anyone who burns his son or his daughter as an offering, anyone who practices divination or tells fortunes or interprets omens, or a sorcerer or a charmer or a medium or a necromancer or one who inquires of the dead, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord."
This passage highlights the importance of avoiding practices that seek knowledge or guidance outside of God's will.
I've said once, I'll say it again, astrology is poison and is basically just space racism.

Loosely inspired by this prompt a few days ago

Chunky

Cyrus strained to remember Botaski body language. Hairtendrils poofed straight out matched... human eyes bugging out? Disbelief? "Gerrota, fess up - something about the Fleet Nine Task Order Roster is bothering you?"
"Yes, Ser-geant Cy-rus. Much I do and do not understand."
"It's okay to drop the rank with other noncoms, Ger - your navy's Corbindermander is about where I am on the food chain. But other than soul-crushing boredom, what's wrong with our Roster? I have to memorize the stupid thing - you exchange staff only need familiarization."
"Cy-rus, why is the number of vessel types the same as the number of ships?"
"Hmm. Well, technically they ARE all different. Look at column TG instead - the type-groups may make more sense."
"There are still forty-two groups, out of 311 ships. Why?"
"Your home fleet has what, four ship classes?"
"Yes, Cy-rus. Would not standardization benefit your war efforts?"
"They ARE standardized, just not at the ship level."
"Tell me more. Three-hundred-eleven unique ships... hurts my brains."
"Okay, let me tell you a story. You know this fleet links by chitter-fling methods?"
"Stutter-blink drives?"
"No, that's different. Still takes intermittent FTL field activation though, just moving through third underspace, not fourth overspace. Anyway - what's your acclimatization intro package say our next link is?"
"Gotorry-Beta - 148.45 light years in your units?"
"Ages ago we patrolled through here using chitter-fling, and this one link had us in and out of FTL maybe five thousand times in ninety minutes."
"Your quartermaster issued me a mouth guard for this reason?"
"Right. It's like riding a jackhammer as a pogo stick."

"Sorry. Cultural reference: it bangs us around. Did then and still does. But then, as separate ships, transit varied from 4500 chitters to 5200 or so, and inevitably we scattered over a tenth of the target star system. So back sixty years ago that 'normal' transit trashed three destroyers and nineteen of the Gotorry navigation buoys. Chitter-fling is WAY faster than... do your fleets use Torpal Compression Drive?"
"Yes."
"Well, fleets need maintenance all the time. No biggie, normal attrition, who cares - right?"
"Not right, Cy-rus. Our fleets never experience such casual damage."
"Hmm - right - just a tenth the speed..."
"Hu-mans take crazy risks. This I knew when I signed up for exchange duty."
"Risk, shmisk. Stuff breaks. But that fleet carried an entire Quartet of Imperial Auditors; senior ones. Their ship arrived not on top of a nav beacon, but just downstream of the destruction of one. Imagine a shrapnel shower while you're still transit-groggy..."
"I will agree that is a horror. Please let me forget the image before sleep cycle!"
"Whatever. Anyway, the Auditors got shook up, and they in turn shook down our Admiralty Engineering Division with a 'Fix Or Else' order. They did, and now you see the approach of the rest of the fleet on the screen?"
"Why are they crowding us, Cy-rus? How can your navigators fly in formation so tight?!"
"Heh. Not formation, buddy - contact. Big human fleets now do chitter-fling together. Look, you were wondering earlier why our frigate looks so - *blocky* did you say?"
"Or *chunky*, Cy-rus."
"No lie, our vessel morphology is nothing like your Navy's. You folks what, *grow* those streamlined shapes?"
"Yes. A Bo-taski ship-plant is not a *factory* plant, but an *organic* plant. Your language is odd."
"I hear you. But how often do you guys *need* aerodynamic smoothness - what, maybe every year or three you dip in-atmosphere? Anyway - the Auditors also dinged the fleet for excessive customization, so the solution wound up standardizing - I think 95% of our construction?"
"That failed obviously. What Kind Of Standard Is 311 Ship Classes?! "
"Wise guy. The chunky look explains that. Our standardization is at the functional module level. The machines and weapons and structure of this frigate could make four mostly-functional sloops. You could glom two of us together and get a nasty destroyer. Likewise if we salvaged a wrecked human cruiser, most of its bits would make spares, replacements, or enhancements for anything between a patrol ketch and an Uber Battlewagon. Maybe not a Lyft Battlewagon - those lean toward carrier duties so you'd fix one with pieces from slingshot brigs, transport barks, maybe escort cutters. The Lyfts can shatter into an overpowered keel and hundreds of fighter craft."
"Shatter... from battle damage?"
"Noooo - intentionally shatter: split or scatter. You noticed the blobs abeam our aft turret? Those are parasite missile cutters - they deploy the same way. We're classed F2/Gamma/Toroid-Blue/N40/Dry. An F2/Gamma/Toroid-Blue/N36/Wet like the Henderson there has more fuel stowage and one less missile cutter. Maybe they're a Toroid-Teal - I don't remember.
"See, the engineering division that was told to fix the problem was - still is - in Billund, Denmark. I know that doesn't mean anything to you - old city on our homeworld. The facility there, the Logistics & Engineering General Office, has been doing work on interconnectability for centuries. Supposedly since before humans went to space.
"Put your... ear frills I guess? up against the wall. Hear some clicks and thumps? We're now snapped onto the starboard stern of the flagship, Juggernaut Prime, and other vessels are still attaching. Once done, we will be one big vessel that will chitter-fling *without scattering*.
"You'll still need the mouthguard though. Let me 'splain 'jackhammer'. "

To preface, my backyard, and my neighbors backyard did not have a fence, so it was like one big yard to run around and play in when I was little. Now my neighbors neighbor, that was two houses down from me, did have a fence.
Anyway, this had to about 2005, when my cousin and I were about 8-9 years old, I remember playing with him in the backyard in the middle of the day. It was sunny. We were about on the property line of my house and my neighbors house when we both looked up and saw a man, leaning against the fence, just watching us play.
My cousin and I looked back at each other and my cousin just screamed at me “LETS GET HIM!”. Before I could say anything my cousin just bolts at this guy, and I ran right behind him. Now as we’re both running at this guy, I’m starting to get a better look at him, I notice I can’t see his face, I can’t see his clothes, I can’t see any discernible features on any part of its body, it literally looked like a black human shaped shadow. I remember at that point feeling fear, but yet, we’re both still charging right at him.
Just a few seconds after we started running towards it, it perked up, and started jogging towards the front yard and in between the houses. I say jogging because it was not running fast at all, the way it ran looked super weird, its kind of hard to explain, its limbs moved like a human, but it looked like it was running in slow motion. Its head was slightly tilted back as it was jogging, almost as if it was looking up at the sky. We were definitely running faster than it and now we’re gaining on it.
When we got about 10 feet away from it, it ran in between the houses out of our view and towards the front yard. We rounded that corner in between the houses not 3 seconds after it did, and this thing was just fucking gone. We didn’t stop running until we reached the front yard, we stopped and looked around in every direction, it was no where in sight, it fucking vanished. We looked back at each other, and without saying a word, my cousin ran one way and I ran in the other direction. We both ran a few houses down and saw nothing.
Theres no way that thing ran far enough away to get away from us because it was simply just moving to slow. Another thing, my mom was also in my backyard, sitting inside our screened in back porch watching all this transpire. I remember a few days later she told me she went to the neighbors house that had the fence, knocked on their door (this is gonna sound stupid) and asked them if there was a black guy living there, because she was concerned about a random man just watching her kid and nephew play in their own backyard. They told her no.
I’ve been sitting on this memory for all my life and I’m always trying to disprove it, but I can’t, I still live in the same house and I just can’t see where it could have hid from us. It should have still been in view when we rounded that corner, but it wasn’t. I like to think it started running faster after we lost sight of it for those few seconds, but if it did, we still should have seen it when we got to the front yard. We were just too close to it. I don’t know why I’m even posting this because I know how it sounds, like two young kids with an imagination. If it wasn’t for my cousin being with me, I’d think I was crazy too. We still talk about it with each other, and have shared it with a few people, but they just scoff. We know what we saw.

Description: In the infernal depths of Hell, where it is divided by two powerful continents vying for control surrounded by a circling sea of lava and countless fortresses of beings unknown to the realms--the Magma Depths--young Kaiden Torchspire of House Satan of the Wrathlands finds out about the incoming invasion from the never-mentioned divine realm of Heaven. And so Torchspire decides to take action and goes on an expansive, definitely-long-term quest to unite the two continents so they can finally destroy Heaven. His journey begins with an untold fortress of the Magma Depths. Me, the writer, has always been fond of on the concept of turning real life concepts into a powerful fantasy series, and so, with inspiration from A Song of Ice and Fire I decided to turn Christianity into an epic fantasy universe.
Book #1: The Hellfire War
Chapter One: Blood Oath and Unexpected Visitors
"Our infernal realm is what keeps us going." said the dark-winged figure of dark crimson skin and a heavily-singed leather toga carrying multiple forms of weaponry, coldly. The figure's eyes were a dull dead gray, his pupils etched with a faint red-energy. He had snaky-like hair and both the claws on his bare feet and hands were raven-shaded and extremely sharp. This figure was Dreadwing Satan, of House Satan--the ruling governance of the Wrathlands. Dreadwing was apart of the main family within House Satan--that being Satan, obviously. The ruling house of the Wrathlands is divided by three families: the Satan family, the Lucious family, and the Torchspire family. "And so," began Dreadwing, his voice always consisting an icy and menacing quality, also with a hint of gruffness. "It is what binds the Realm of Torture together. And so, today we are enacting one of the Realm of Torture's most oldest traditions that symbolizes our determination to stand firm and fight against the ongoing flames of damnation and..." While the ruling figure of House Satan kept on going, one of the countless members of the audience--Kaiden Torchspire, of the Torchspire branch of House Satan--was feeling extremely anxious about the upcoming tradition. The Blood Oath.
Kaiden had the ordinary dull dead gray eyes, but his pupils was etched with a faint purple-energy. His raven-shaded slick hair was greasy and dirty, and his crimson skin etched with countless aching bruises--all of that probably coming from his training sessions in his house's fortress' central training room. His claws were a dull pale white, and he was wearing classical tattered demon clothes but had dark-steel shoulder pads. Kaiden's relationship with the Torchspire family always seemed like sort of a curse; since he had to go through endless and rigourous training. But he always thought to himself that he was being ungrateful; since his life was more lucky then then what the lower ranks of demons within the Realm of Torture always had the short-end-of-the-stick.
The Blood Oath was a tradition almost as ancient as Hell itself, maybe it was, but the specific timing of its creation is unknown to the infernal society. The Blood Oath was a special ritual; where they would get countless cups of blood through rigiourous fighting and offer it to the ancient Seven Princes of Hell--the original inhabitance of the infernal realm. And only the ruling Houses of Hell had to participate in this demonic cultural event.
"...And so," began Dreadwing Satan once again. "It is of great pleasure to me and the ruling demons of the Lucious branch and the Torchspire branch of House Satan, that we hereby start the Blood Oath ceremonial line of events by the Night of Stars as usual. A message to the demons of both Lucious origin and Torchspire origin; best of luck in the perils ahead."
To any normal person in the Human World those lasts couple of words would deeply frighten them; but to demons like Kaiden it did not--since it happens every year.
Kaiden sat on his bed-made-for-a-king and laid there for a long time; he only had five days until the Night of Stars--the night that begins the Blood Oath tradition. The Night of Stars was chosen because of its legendary happenings within it; that were the nighttime in the infernal depths of Hell became the exact same appearance as the nights of the Human World; raven-shaded, and filled to the brim with hundreds of thousands of small dots of bright light--stars. The Torchspire youngling got up from his bed and walked out the grand dark-wooden doors that were the entrance and exit of the his bedroom, and shutting them close behind them. It was time for his daily training session. He continued walking through the large halls of the Torchspire fortress to the center room; the Damnation, which was the training room of the fortress. When he reached the large stone doors leading to the Damnation, he opened them up with ease and walked in confidently. Inside the massive training room was countless tactical practice exercises; such as dummies, targets with countless arrows in it, and even some cages that had human souls, where demons would practice torturing; since that was the fundamental task of the Realm of Torture and the original intent for the creation of Hell, at least until the formation of the Refuge Lands. On the right side of the Damnation was tall and slightly-muscular demon; his body of dark crimson, his raven-shaded hair greasy and dirty just like Kaiden's, and had the same exact pale white claws on both his barefeet and hands. He also had the same tattered leather clothes of demons, but were less tattered since he hasn't been as much training sessions after those new clothes were made. And he wore hard-steel shoulder pads similar to Kaiden's. This demonic figure was Kaiden's older brother; Domino Torchspire. He was also his partner-in-training. Kaiden walked towards the older Torchspire and when he reached him, Domino turned around and grinned as he saw his younger brother. Kaiden could see his gray eyes that were etched with the same faint purple-energy. "You're late, Kai." Shut up, you big oath. Kaiden thought to himself and then grinned. "Well, at least I wasn't too late that our father had to punish me by "means of unjustness."" Kaiden smirkingly remarked, since he was referencing what happened the day before. Domino frowned at his comment. "Shut up, Kaiden. Father would never punish his heir." "Yeah well, we'll see about that-" Kaiden never got to finish that remark when the grand doors of the Damnation flew upon and Kaiden and Domino's father burst in, his skin the casual dark crimson, had tattered leather robes, raven-shaded greasy hair, his claws on his feet and hands a pale white, and his eyes was an unusual dark-gray color, but still had the faint purple energy in his pitch-black pupils. Behind their father--Blackwood Torchspire--was a few dozen demon guards, that were covered in hard-steel armor. Their father turned to them and then began walking towards them, and then began speaking with his casual gruff but cold voice. "Domino, Kaiden, it would seem we have unexpected visitors. It's the Dull." The young and older Torchspire's eyes widened with surprise; since visits from the Dull. Of course, most demons knew of the Dull; they were the main unit of enforcement in the Realm of Torture. Their elite order was founded at the time right after the disappearance of the Seven Princes, and were known throughout the infernal depths as the most capable enforcement team in the Realm of Torture. The Dull are also known for their unparalleled mercilessness and an alarming will to vanquish any being that retaliates and gets in the way of their tasks. But now, presumably, they have come to the fortress of one of the three families of House Satan, one of the ruling governance forces in the Realm of Torture.

What the election and Palestine all boils down for me is whether I'm a "civic nationalist" or not. I believe Americans are indoctrinated with the ideology. The entire notion of civic engagement is meant to kettle radicals and activists and herd them into an acceptable level of discourse and being professional and judicious at all times. You protesters are at a 9 and I'm gonna need you at a 2.
People either fall for this, realize they gotta pay the piper, or a mixture of the 2. The liberal class is the most civic nationalist. I'm basically speaking of what's termed American Exceptionalism. Why does America never have to answer for its sins? Gen Z wants to know and so do we aging stagnant disgruntled Millenials.
I truly believe that Trump is the worse president for America as a functioning democracy. I think Trump purging the deep state would be hilarious and would also keep America from achieving its foreign policy objectives. Those objectives include bit are not limited to: Genocide. That's not even scratching the surface of our sanctions regime
At the same time I think Biden's unwavering support of a full scale genocide of Palestine as we speak. It's basically 1939 in Biden world and 1860 in Trumps world.
Am I American or am I human? I see no need for a country called Israel to exist in a racist form, and I definitely don't think America has the inherent right to exist. The US has a bigger 21st century body count than Israel or any country on earth. The evil empires of the Nazis and Soviets are done for. That just leaves the US empire and their gold medallion club members Israel. That's part of my civic disengagement.
The rest of the world will be better off out from under our thumb. Trump 2.0. Mecha Trump will be a bumpy ride for sure but probably full of a lot of laughs like his first term
If I vote it won't be for either and I hope theres protests at polling places.

Bitches always on my d-ck, I wear a condom when I shit.
• ⁠On & On
Shittin on niggas like a nigga was still a baby.
• ⁠The Come Up​
Motherfucker, I'm the shit, I pass gas when I feel.
• ⁠Sky Boy​
Aye this is big shit poppin', you gon' need a plunger.
• ⁠Heartache​
They say I'm like the human body, I produce my own shit.
• ⁠Royal Flush​
They light a fire under my ass nigga my shit hot, even if you squatted under volcanoes nigga your shit not.
• ⁠Waterbreak​
These niggas thinking they the shit and they ain't even farted yet.
• ⁠Last Call​
I be shitting on my niggas and my dough be farting.
• ⁠ The One​
Nigga, eat a d-ck, we the shit, no flushing.
• ⁠Disgusting​
You wanna know how I know I'm the shit? 'Cause I keep clogging up the toilet.
• ⁠ Disgusting​
I'm on that shit as if I was the flies.
• ⁠ Premeditated Murder​
I potty train niggas, yeah, this that teach you 'how to shit'.
• ⁠Bun B For President​
I'm the shit, you the stools.
• ⁠Wireless Festival 2010 Freestyle​
You the shit only cause I digested you niggas.
• ⁠See It To Believe It​
I let you feel like you the shit, but boy you can't out-fart me.
• ⁠Dollar & A Dream III​
Swallowed the key to my cell, which means, I got an impossible lock to pick, And if you want my spot you gotta go through lots of shit.
• ⁠The Cure​
Now they tell me “man you like the realest shit I ever smelt."
• ⁠The Cure​
f--k is that smell? I smell bullshyt, it must be an election year.
• ⁠Get Free​
I'm the shit you the shit stains.
• ⁠Backstage verse at Kendrick Lamar show​
Grew up in this bitch without a pot to piss, no toilet, how ironic, I took a lot of shit
• ⁠Tears For ODB​
She put up with this shit like she work at the zoo, true
• ⁠Sparks Will Fly​
If your shit don't stink, nigga, my ship won't sink
• ⁠Revenge Of The Dreamers
Straight shitting on these piss poor rappers, I'm back
• ⁠Everybody Dies
What's that smell, where's your diaper shit here
• ⁠She's Mine Pt. 2

First Previous
Dr. Dask caught herself lost in thought for what was not the first time that day. The humans were definitely up to something. She paced around her room on the outer-rim of the Lunar facility - built after the previous orbital station was deemed irredeemably outdated by modern standards.
If she’d learned anything in her 20 Earth years studying the people on the blue planet, it’s that they didn’t seem to go without a major war for very long. There were, of course, smaller conflicts and skirmishes all across the planet, as had become routine, but this extended ‘peace’, which had lasted her whole career by this point, must have meant something was off.
Some of her xenosociologist peers theorized that the humans must have, at last, realized how pointless their model of constant bloodbath is, and adopted the ‘civilized’ model of war, as indicated by the increase in their industrial capacities as well as the strengthening of their militaries despite the times of peace. Surely, her fellow scientists argued, this meant that the weapons are starting to be used as a tool of intimidation, rather than destruction and death.
The scientist thought the idea of a “civilized model of war” stupid and inherently contradictory, alas, those assertions were not the main issue she had with their theory. If humans did have a sudden realisation about the horrors they were committing on a daily basis, why were there still so many conflicts all around the world?
Not only that, but the weapons they were testing didn’t seem to be for the sole purpose of shock and awe. Of particular note was when she caught a glimpse of an artillery gun, a weapon designed to launch high-speed projectiles upwards and relying on the planet’s high gravity to bring them down into enemy lines, launching what seemed to be a regular projectile, until it fell on the ground and, rather than exploding, released a large amount of yellow-brownish gas, which surely couldn’t scare the most cowardly of Bannids, let alone a human. She did not know what the purpose of it was, but it definitely unsettled her.
Regardless, almost all of their developments seemed to be about killing each other, but better, and even the most impractical of technologies, namely “zeppelins”, as the humans called the hulking, and very flammable, masses floating above their cities, were being weaponized in one way or the other, for a purpose still shrouded in Dr. Dask’s eyes.
“Ms. Dask?” asked a meek voice, entering her room as she was still pacing around, deep in thought, “The scientists currently stationed at the observatory seem to think large amounts of troops are mobilizing, ma’am, you may want to see this.”
That pulled the scientist right out of her mental state, and heading to the observatory as fast as she could walk before it would be considered a full-blown run. “Thank you, Reylek” she said, directed at the Junior Scientist that was struggling to keep up behind her “This may be the answer I’ve been seeking for so long, we may find what they’ve been doing for all these years” she said, finally finding herself in the confines of the observatory room.
The researcher tried to keep her excitement in check. Whatever was happening, she thought, would definitely involve the deaths of thousands of sapients, as was so terribly common when human militaries got involved with something. She watched, in unabashed curiosity, as armies made of tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of humans marched across the land, wielding the deadliest and most advanced weapons they had so far been able to grasp.
This was, by far, the largest armies she had ever seen. There were records of larger ones being deployed, sure, but being able to personally witness the sheer scale of such a war was truly astounding. They were still only in the mobilization phase, however, and as such the Dr. furiously took some notes and headed to the cafeteria for dinner, which had an extravagant window giving a beautiful view of Earth. The decommissioned space station also had one, and, when the new Lunar base was inaugurated, the older scientists felt quite salty about losing their favourite lookout spot and demanded that a new one be built.
By the end of the month (human calendar), however, her cautioned curiosity had already been turned into sheer terror. Fighting had broken out all across the world, the brutality of the newly developed weapons unmatched by anything she or any of her older colleagues had ever witnessed. Some of the proponents of the human enlightenment theory had locked themselves in their rooms, not being able to bear the sorrow of knowing that they could not have been any more wrong if they tried.
This continued on for untold days and weeks, casualties piling up on every side of the conflict, both soldier and civilian, in enough numbers to collapse any reasonable alien society. The humans, however, fought on, seemingly unphased.
After a few months, as the fighting still raged on from the thickest of jungles to the hottest of deserts, the main front, in the continent containing the nations who first started the war, seemed to come to a standstill. Dask, now significantly more disheveled than she was those sweet months ago before such a massively important event broke out, felt a glimmer of hope. Surely this stalemate would mean the beginning of negotiations, and a possible end to what could only be described as the worst conflict anyone in the outpost had ever witnessed.
The scientist and her colleagues were watching as both sides dug long, sinuous corridors across a field. This, she thought, would force them into peace. No army, not even a human one, would want to get stuck in such an unwinnable situation, where neither side can reliably attack each other without catastrophic losses on both sides.
The group gawked. Some of the humans along the battlefield had suddenly stopped fighting, even climbing into disputed territory, seemingly mingling with those who were their enemies just a few hours prior. This was, as Dask noted, shocked, probably the most human behaviour she’d ever seen. From a senseless bloodbath to camaraderie and care almost instantly. It further fueled her hopes of a peaceful resolution in the end, as clearly such a display of friendship together with the hopelessness of their military positions would be enough to make both sides come to their senses.
Later reports would note that this truce may have had something to do with the end of the Solar year, an occasion celebrated by nearly all humans for as far as Commonwealth records go. The armistice, though, did not last long. By the next day it may as well have never happened, much to the chagrin of the researchers, still hanging onto the slim hope that this would end soon, if not by collaboration then by hopelessness alone.
That, however, was not the case. It had been roughly 5 (human calendar) months since the seemingly random act of peace. Hundreds of thousands more had died, and at this point Dask believed the humans couldn’t actually grasp the scale of what they were doing, especially given how mysterious the actual reasons for the war still were to her. What unfathomable offense had been made for it to spark such slaughter? She did not have the answers, all she knew is that the humans did not seem at all inclined to back down.
By this point, their weapons were only one of the many sources of death and sorrow in this war. Disease ran rampant, with no proper medical facilities on the frontlines, and a lack of supplies meant that several thousands simply starved to death, not a single bullet needing to be fired to cause their demise.
The mood on the research team was somber. The war had been dragging on, and Dr. Dask wondered just how many sleepless nights were yet to come, for she couldn’t truly rest while such terrible acts were taking place so close by. The silver lining, if you could call it that, is that she’d grown somewhat jaded to human warfare, and it did not make her as nauseated as it should, and as it did in the past. Until the shells hit.
As Dask watched, projectiles came down from the sky on a human trench, though, unlike the explosions she’d grown accustomed to, they simply released large amounts of a brownish-yellow gas, which she remembered seeing all those months ago, being tested. Once it dissipated enough to see through, she understood its true purpose, and immediately wished she hadn't. Hundreds of humans, twitching, coughing, vomiting, their skins burnt despite the absence of fire, some of them eerily still, choked out by the gas that had displaced the air on the long dirt corridors.
She stared, in shock, as the other side began charging, putting on masks that deprived them of all human features and walking into the dying lines, immune to the effects of the deadly gas. They mercilessly killed anyone and everyone wearing the wrong uniform, even those already on the floor. She thought about that in contrast to that serene night in which they mingled, it was hardly believable that they were of the same species, let alone the same people altogether.
Vomit filled the observatory. The other researchers, like Dr. Dask herself, thought they were used to human antics at this point, but their ingenuity when it comes to cruelty once again proved to be unrivaled. Most others left the room, leaving the dirty work to the cleaning bots. The Dr. did not vomit, if for no other reason than that she had not yet eaten, and as such physically could not do so. She also returned to her room, no longer feeling even the remotest scientific curiosity to watch such a terrible event unfold.
Over the next several years. The war dragged on and on, mountains upon mountains of bodies piling up,the count in the millions by now, civilians included. The clothes were stripped from the dead, washed anew and given to a young, excited recruit, just for them to meet the same fate, and repeat the cycle once more. Morale among the researchers was at an all time low, many choosing to no longer accompany the fighting as closely, and some retiring from the facility entirely.
The humans, of course, did not care much for the emotions of aliens they didn’t even know the existence of, and as such only got more and more creative with their machinations, from flying machines strapped with bombs and guns, to a brand new vehicle named the “tank”, which was, by all means, a marvel of engineering for their civilization, albeit prone to constant breakdowns. All that to fuel a war which Dr. Dask was still unsure as to the cause.
Dr. Dask herself, albeit far worse-for-wear than she had been before this, kept going. While the overwhelming cruelty was evident, she could not simply ignore the random glimmers offered by the various and random acts of kindness she had seen across the war. From the truce on that night, to a random soldier helping an injured enemy combatant, to humans risking their own life and walking into the line of fire to rescue their comrades.
That’s why, when the day of the Armistice finally came, she was one of the few left from the original team still there to witness it, and, as soldiers disbanded and went home, she could only look across the cafeteria window and into the blue marble above, wondering if this troubled species could ever truly achieve peace and step into the galactic stage as new allies, rather than pariahs.

Author's Note: The masses have once again spoken. I hope you don't mind a slightly more well informed perspective this time, as I can only come up with so many excuses to force an unwitting alien to witness the horrors of war. Definitely a more somber chapter too, which I find rather appropriate for WWI. Once again this turned far larger than I originally intended and I do apologise to those who wanted a detailed, more entertaining reaction to tanks and such, though I felt like it simply would not fit properly into this particular narrative. Finally, feedback and corrections for random inaccuracies are welcome as always. Enjoy!

We’ve seen through Johns aura perception(and Sera) that aura is concentrated at the heart Assuming that EMBER has to juice up the converted abilities regularly, what if they remove the dead vigilantes hearts, connect them to a device that simulates a human body, and have them produce aura of that vigilantes ability? They could stick it into a machine that would inject that aura into their channels and temporarily give them access to another ability. They wouldn’t be able to get the FP abilities because there isn’t enough space in the aura channels. This is why only high tiers could handle conversion, because they’re the only ones who have the bare minimum capacity. God tiers would have enough space for 4+own abilities like Farrah, while high tiers 2-3+own. Though, this would make it so that their original abilities would be weakened to make space for converted ones, which holds up with Val getting hurt by Blykes laser, but not with Farrah because she almost clearly has her full 6.5, unless it’s like at 5.5-6.0 because of conversion at that moment.

So whenever a kid goes missing (especially when the parents were the last to see them, especially in the middle of the night, especially when one parent is known to have left the house in the middle of the night, especially when the family has a large social network in the area) - the first suspects are the parents. Yet everything from local investigators, state police, and the FBI seems to suggest that the Degree parents aren't looked at as suspects at all. Not even investigators hinting at it in public statements. Nothing. They've been treated like allies by North Carolina State Police from the early days of the investigation which continued with the FBI to this day.
My gut feeling is that law enforcement has concrete evidence that Asha's disappearance is a runaway incident. And that the whole "the timeline is shady, when did she go to sleep, when did Harold leave the house" stuff on this sub is just us reading conflicting media reports from 24 years ago.
Regarding law enforcement knowing a whole-lot more than they share: Let me point to the Lauria Bible/Ashley Freeman disapperances.
Long story short - two 16-year old girls were having a sleepover at one's house. The house goes up in flames. Bodies of the parents are found. Turns out the victims were shot before they were killed. The girls were missing for something like 20 years. Tons of theories abound - drug trafficking, the girls killed the parents and ran away, the dad killed them all, human trafficking, etc.
Turns out that cops knew within a few years about the existence of photos/videos that showed the girls being abused in a drug house in the area. They had a general idea of what happened to the girls, but needed concrete proof to put the perpetrators away.
But none of this was known by the general public for 20-something years. So all of these theories were being discussed, but law enforcement had evidence that ruled out all but one of them.
I think there's something similar in this case because there is just no way that two working-class black parents in a Good Ol' Boy town who were the last to see their daughter would be treated so well by investigators other wise.

I've been feeling insecure of my PolyTherianthropy lately, not only am I a animal in an humans body but I am multiple animals in a humans body and its so, so, stressful. I have 4 Theriotypes and I'm questioning another one, but I can't help but feel insecure of it, I feel like I'm "faking" or "collecting" Theriotypes even though I know its not true, it's so embarrassing for some reason to say I have so many Theriotypes, I feel like a bad example to the Therian community, it didn't bother me much until I started questioning a 5th Theriotype, it just feels like,, alot. I don't know, I know that a lot of Therians are also Poly and have 4 or over Theriotypes but when it's me I can't help but feel insecure about it, I don't know why I'm making and posting it I just kinda needed to get it out of my system.

As a school environment, it is not uncommon for students to bring pet bottles into the campus. The school also has a vending machine serving beverages packaged in plastic PET bottles. As these are frequently seen in and outside of school, almost everyone has seen plastic bottles everywhere they go. However, the usage of these bottles can have a massive impact on the environment that surrounds us.
Pet bottles' impact on plastic pollution is one of the most critical issues they raise. Because these bottles are unable to biodegrade, they often end up in landfills or bodies of water, where they can linger for hundreds of years and destroy ecosystems and marine life. In order to mitigate this environmental impact, schools may play a critical role in lowering the usage of pet bottles.
Pet bottle manufacturing and disposal have a big impact on resources and energy. Fossil fuels and large amounts of water are used during the pet bottle manufacturing process, which increases carbon emissions and water shortages. Further energy resources are used in the distribution and transportation of these bottles. Schools may contribute to global efforts to tackle climate change by conserving electricity and reducing their carbon footprint by lowering the demand for pet bottles.
It is tough to ignore the effects pet bottles have on health. Research has indicated that extended exposure to specific chemicals present in plastic, such phthalates and bisphenol A (BPA), may have negative effects on human health, such as alteration of hormones and increased vulnerability to specific illnesses. Schools may encourage students and staff to reduce the usage of pet bottles and promote the use of safer, alternative choices like reusable water bottles or water fountains that are found around the school.
Another common everyday product that is used everyday and seen in schools are plastic bags. People often get plastic bags in stores across the world for free or cheap and this has grown into a serious problem. They are composed of LDPE, a polymer that is well known for being softer and having a greater stretch ability than other forms of plastic, when compared to water bottles or food containers. This is just because of LDPE's high air permeability and loosely packed molecular structure; it does not suggest that the material is fragile.
Another form of plastic that is frequently used to make plastic bottles and bags for products everywhere is called LDPE, and it is one of the main causes of water pollution. The material is composed of ethylene monomer and is a thermoplastic, which means that it may harden and soften at temperatures that vary. Due to its special qualities, it may be quite helpful in cold climates but is not the ideal material for hot temperatures where it may be weak structurally. This makes it one of the best options for plastic bags since plastic bags need to be able to expand under load while maintaining the majority of their form.
As an IB school based in Japan, I do believe that respect for enviorment is a big thing that needs to be put out there in the school community. By any chance, does anyone have any suggestions on how the school board can resort to other alternatives? (Or try to convince the school board to resort to other alternatives)