I was diagnosed in 2021, I’ve had a laparoscopy, cystoscopy, tried amitryptiline, sildenafil, histamine medication, every supplement ever mentioned, every diet - IC diet, low histamine, low oxalate, gluten free, dairy free - I have done EVERYTHING in the last 4 years. I was strictly on a combo of all of the above for an entire year.
I am symptom free as I type this & I have tested back into my diet: all cheese - even aged cheese, chocolate, gluten, cinnamon, apples, raspberries, onion, grapes, yogurt, black pepper, alcohol, & the list will go on as I keep testing because I have regulated my nervous system & that was the cause & main trigger of my symptoms.
Here is a list of FREE things to try & things I do everyday to keep my IC in my control

• yoga nidra meditations (MEDITATION IS MY #1) http://www.youtube.com/@SarovaraYoga
  
• somatic tracking ( you can find guided somatic tracking meditations on YouTube )
  
• restorative yoga & pelvic floor stretches My favorite youtube for yoga is Yoga with Adrienne & my favorite for pelvic floor health is Dr Bri’s Vibrant Pelvic Health
  

quick nervous system reset & vagus nerve toning tools to learn - bee breath - 4-7-8 breathing - gargle warm water in the morning - belly breathing Again you can YouTube all of this if you need too
I also read the book “The Way Out” by Alan Gordon & Alon Ziv about chronic pain & it opened my eyes to my relationship with pain.
I’m serious y’all, you have nothing to lose, all of these resources are free minus the book. All you have to do is commit your time. More & more of us are finding that the NS plays a huge role in symptoms, & who knows you may find out you’re not diet sensitive at all.
Good luck & please give this a try. I wish someone had told me sooner. Xoxo

“Ready to make history, baby?”
I looked over toward Sheila as she stood on the gangplank leading up to The Burger. I still couldn’t believe she named our research ship ‘The Burger’... emotional relevance be damned.
“It's not exactly history,” I corrected.
“Oh come on! If your survey is right, this trench might run even deeper than the Challenger Deep, and you’re gonna be the first person to explore it! How is that not exciting?”
“Might be deeper, we only have a limited amount of topological data. And even if it is deeper, we’re talking only a few hundred feet at most, it’s really not that im-”
Sheila silenced me with a kiss.
“Nerd.” She teased, and I found myself too flustered to reply. After five years of marriage, she still could leave me speechless with just a kiss. God… how did someone like me end up with a woman like that?
Then again, how did someone like me end up where I was in general? It was honestly a little overwhelming. Standing on the dock, getting ready to board that ship and join the ranks of Jacques Piccard and James Cameron (yes, that James Cameron) as one of the few people to take a manned submersible down to the deepest parts of the ocean. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared too. Diving down that deep could easily be a one way trip if even the slightest thing went wrong. My submarine would be experiencing between 600 to 1100 atmospheres of pressure and while we’d tested it over and over again to make sure it would actually be up for the challenge, there was still a lingering iota of doubt in the back of my mind. All that needed to go wrong was one little thing, and that would be it for me.
The scariest part is that I probably wouldn’t even know what had happened… I’d simply be gone… and Sheila would be alone. The thought of that caused a momentary spike of panic in my chest that almost made me want to call this whole thing off.
Almost.
But, then I felt her hand close around mine. I looked up into her bright blue eyes, and saw her gentle smile.
“You’re gonna be okay, hun,” She promised. “You and your team have been running the numbers, right? It’s gonna go just fine!”
I nodded slowly.
“It’s gonna go fine…” I repeated, before she leaned in to kiss me, and gently pulled me by the wrist up onto the deck of the Burger.
She was probably right.
It probably would be fine.
Probably…
The trench I’d be exploring was a fairly recent discovery, located south of Greenland, in a vast stretch of water situated directly between Newfoundland and Iceland. It’d been uncovered during a topological survey in the area, and my team had taken an interest in investigating it further. At minimum, it was believed to descend to about 35,000 feet deep (over 10,000 meters), although the current theory was that it might have run even deeper. Determining the exact depth of the yet unnamed chasm was just one of the intents of our dive. The rest was studying the organisms that might be found down there, and how they might have differed from the ones found in other deep ocean trenches (some variation being expected given the isolated environment they were developing in.)
I had to admit, it would be exciting to see what new life might have developed in a place such as this, especially if it ran even deeper than our predictions… and that excitement was enough to make me chase the fear of the risks out of my mind, even if it was only briefly. While Sheila went to make sure we were ready to embark, I caught myself wandering out toward the rear of the ship where my submarine, The Tempura, waited for me. Did this submarine deserve a better name than The Tempura? Probably. But, this was my project, so I got to name it and since Burger was already taken, Tempura was the next best name I had. I liked to think that the subs namesake might approve… if she hadn’t died fifteen years ago. Shrimp don’t live very long.
As the ship began to depart, I caught myself reminiscing on how I’d ended up here… it really was all because of those damn shrimp, wasn’t it? Well… maybe not all because of the shrimp. But they were certainly part of it. Back when I was a lot younger, I never really gave much of a shit about anything at all. I guess I did have a thing for the ocean… the great, romantic vastness of it. The sense of adventure that it beckoned with. The endless mysteries that lay within its dark depths. I used to read about it all the time when I was a kid and I especially loved the classic adventures: Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, and Melville’s Moby Dick… but that love was just confined to my books. I didn’t really have any interest in actually going out and seeing the ocean. Hell, the idea of going to a beach and standing in the sun with my toes in the sand seemed miserable to me. I was happier (although calling myself happy might’ve been a little disingenuous) alone in my room, enjoying the company of books as opposed to people.
Then came the shrimp.
One of my online friends kept them as a hobby. He used to post pictures of his tanks all the time, and I always thought they looked kinda cool. He said that if I was interested in them, I should try keeping some for myself, and during a particularly bad bout of depression, I figured that maybe it might be worth a shot. So, I bought a cheap tank and some cheap decorations, bought myself some shrimp… and promptly watched them die over the next few weeks. That… that bothered me. I don’t know why but… it really bothered me. I’m still not entirely sure how to describe what it was that I was feeling. Guilt? Defeat? Shame? Here I was, trying to set up a habitat for these creatures just to have something to do to keep the suicidal ideation at bay, and I’d failed almost right out of the gate.
Was I just that bad? Was I just that much of a failure? Was this just going to go to shit just like everything else in my life did, because I was just such an abysmal piece of shit who barely deserved the life she had? Had I just not tried hard enough? Was I too apathetic? What had happened? What went wrong?
It bothered me.
It bothered me enough that I made up my mind to just dump the remaining shrimp down the toilet and toss everything. Forget about it. Move on. End of story. But… that wasn’t fair, was it? The shrimp didn’t all deserve to die just because I couldn’t be bothered, did they? Sure, they were just shrimp, but they were alive too, just like me. They deserved to be alive.
I owed it to them to try and keep them alive, didn’t I?
So… I didn’t dump the shrimp.
Instead, I started doing some reading. Started looking into what I was doing wrong and how to do it all better. I actually got really into it and a few months later, I had a nice planted tank. Looking back, it was amateur shit… but it made me happy. I’d even picked out names for my two favorite shrimp. Burger and Tempura. They’d been the last survivors of my original batch, and they were the ones I ended up caring about the most. Caring for Burger and Tempura gave me a purpose. It became an obsession… and that little obsession drove me to finally start turning my life around.
Like I said, shrimp don’t live for very long. Burger and Tempura were long dead by the time I graduated with a degree in Marine Biology. But they were the ones who inspired me to finally get my life in order. Hell, the shrimp were half the reason that I met Sheila. She was something of an aquarium fanatic too… we’d met on a forum, and gotten to talking. I found out that she just so happened to be studying Marine Biology at another school, and we bonded pretty quickly after that. After graduation, I moved to California to be with her and after that, the rest is history. She was my rock. She was the one who always pushed me to be the best possible version of myself… and I loved her more than I ever knew I could love someone.
A glance back at the shore, fading into the distance tore me out of my reminiscing, and I shifted my focus to the present, going over The Tempura to perform some quick checks. My colleagues and I would be checking and rechecking the submarine over the next two days as we made our way toward the dive spot. Considering the danger that descending that deep posed, I didn’t want to take a single unnecessary risk.
I had too much to live for, after all.
***
The day of the dive, I couldn’t notice how excited the rest of the crew seemed… well… Sheila’s usual crew seemed excited. I guess to them, this was just another research expedition, no different than the ones Sheila usually took this ship out on. Lately her research had been focused on the analysis and study of whale calls. Her recent voyages had involved following their pods, recording their calls and playing them back to see how the whales reacted. It was fascinating stuff, but my research was admittedly a lot different than that.
My obsession had drawn me to the denizens of the deep sea. I’d used The Burger for expeditions before, although none of them had been on quite the same scale as this one. Up until today, the most ambitious thing I’d done was send down unmanned submersibles with cameras. Those submersibles had typically returned. We had lost a few early on due to technical glitches, but the past few years had been blissfully uneventful. Logically, this dive would probably be uneventful as well. But it was still hard to get the jitters out of my head.
My team and I did the final checks necessary to make sure that The Tempura was good to go, before setting up the crane to begin lifting it up. In less than an hour, I’d be inside of that thing, descending to the darkest depths of the ocean.
It didn’t feel real.
I felt Sheila’s hand on my shoulder, and looked over at her.
“Moment of truth, huh?” She asked. She probably meant it to sound encouraging, but it just sounded ominous.
“Moment of truth…” I replied.
“You’re gonna be okay, honey. I know you will.”
She reached out to gently squeeze my hand and gave me a reassuring smile that I meekly returned.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be okay,” I agreed, although there was an element of a lie in it. Statistically, yes. It probably WOULD be okay. But there was that lingering anxiety in the back of my mind that just wouldn’t go away. I looked quietly out at the submarine before me and couldn’t shake the thought that it sort of looked like a giant coffin. Unconsciously, I found myself squeezing Sheila’s hand tighter than normal. She just held me close and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, before gently rubbing my back.
“You’ll be okay,” She promised.
“Dr. Jenner, we’re ready for you.” I heard one of my colleagues say.
Moment of truth.
I took one last look at Sheila, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips for luck. She smiled at me, and I smiled back anxiously at her before heading over toward the submarine.
The crew helped me enter the cockpit and get myself situated inside. The cockpit of the Tempura was fairly cramped and not particularly comfortable. Space and comfort aren’t really luxuries you can afford in a submarine like this. The instruments I needed took up a lot of space, leaving little room for me in there… and I am not a very big person.
Once I was inside, they sealed the hatch. Then the diagnostics checks began.
“Grayson, can you hear us in there?” I heard Sheila say through the radio.
“Loud and clear,” I replied.
“Great. We’ll keep in constant radio contact, just to monitor the signal. In the meanwhile, how’s everything looking in there?”
“Green across the board so far,” I said, although I hadn’t finished running all my final checks yet. Ultimately, nothing was out of place.
This submarine was as good to go as it was going to get.
“I’m all good in here,” I said once I was done. “You can drop me when you’re ready.”
“You got it, honey. Let’s get you in the water, run one final round of tests and start lowering you down.”
A short while later, I felt the submarine begin to move as the crane lifted it off the deck and lowered it into the water. The Tempura honestly resembled its namesake in a way, being long and cigar shaped, only vertically oriented instead of horizontally oriented. We’d admittedly taken more than a few design cues from James Cameron’s Deepsea Challenger. Why fix what isn’t broken, after all?
Once I was in the water, a 1000 pound releasable ballast weight would cause the submarine to sink. Releasing that weight was also my ticket back to the surface, and I could either trigger it from inside the cockpit, or, in the event that the release failed for any reason, it would trigger automatically after roughly 12 hours of exposure to salt water.
Ideally, this would be the first of a number of dives I’d be undertaking… and if all went according to plan, the Tempura could be the first of many similar submarines that would allow other researchers to safely and effectively descend to extreme depths. If all went well, this could be a massive leap forward for researchers like me, allowing us to better explore the deepest depths of the Hadal Zone and learn all we could about the ecosystems down there via direct observation.
If all went well.
If.
Through the viewport, I watched as I was lowered into the ocean. A few of the other crew members had donned diving gear to escort me down, and after they did their final checks and I did mine, we were fully ready to go.
“All’s green across the board,” I said into the radio. “You can start my descent.”
“I hear you, honey,” Sheila replied. “We’re letting you go. Have fun down there.”
“Yeah, I’ll try…” I said quietly as finally, my submarine began its descent.
I took a deep breath, and told myself again that everything would go fine. We had checked everything on this submarine. We’d tested it rigorously. I wouldn’t have allowed myself to set foot inside of it if I hadn’t personally assured that it was safe. But anxiety never really goes away, does it? The crew couldn’t accompany me far. After only a few meters, they fell behind me as I sank deeper and deeper into the infinite, empty blue of the ocean. Soon after, the tether was released.
I was officially on my own.
“60 feet,” I heard Sheila say over the radio. “How are you doing in there?”
“Good,” I replied. “Doing… doing good.”
The submarine continued to descend. Through the viewport, I could see a few stray fish, but nothing particularly eye catching. I almost felt alone down there… almost…
“120 feet…” Sheila said.
“Still doing good,” I replied.
The descent continued, as the waters slowly grew darker and darker.
“400 feet…”
Everything around me just kept getting darker and darker. Only a fraction of the light from the sun ever reached these depths… and I’d be lying if I said that darkness didn’t feel a little… oppressive.
“800 feet… still feeling good?”
“Yeah, still feeling good…” I said, although it was a bit of a lie. If anything, I was second guessing all of this, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“1000 feet… still good?”
“Still good…” I murmured. “I hear you loud and clear.”
Deeper… deeper… deeper.
“1500 feet…”
Three miles. I was three miles away from home. Three miles away from Sheila.
“2000 feet…”
Still a ways to go.
“3000 feet…”
By this point, it was fully dark outside of my cockpit. Outside, all I could see was inky darkness. Even the submarine’s lights didn’t really cut through it. And the kicker? Relatively speaking, I wasn’t that deep. Fishing trawlers reached deeper than this. Better to conserve power until I was at the bottom. My descent continued.
“6000 feet… still good?”
“Still good…”
The check ins were becoming less frequent. My descent still continued… deeper… deeper… deeper. By now, I’d entered the Hadal Zone. But there was still so much deeper o go.
“8000 feet…”
This was past the depths that most whales would dive to… and I still had a ways to go.
“10,000 feet.”
This was close to where the ocean floor usually bottomed out… and yet there was still so much further to go. No. I was really only a third of the way there. How long had it been?Not much had happened beyond my descent and a few sightings out of my viewport, but time had been passing. A glance at my watch confirmed it’d been almost an hour since I’d started to sink… and I knew I wasn’t even close to the bottom yet. The submarine continued to descend, sinking ever deeper as I dropped into an infinite darkness that few had ever dared to witness.
“15,000 feet.”
This check in came later than the others. At this point, Sheila and the crew must have figured that no news was good news, and they were right. I just continued to sink peacefully, down into the crushing depths of the ocean.
These were the depths that one might normally find deep sea fish… and yet I was going somewhere even deeper than that.
“20,000 feet…”
So close…
I continued to sink.
“25,000 feet.”
Soon… and finally…
“30,000 feet. You still doing alright, honey?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m doing good,” I assured her. I was so close…
By this point, my real work had begun. I’d engaged the lights and begun documenting what little I could see using the on board cameras. Granted, there wasn’t much life at these depths and what little there was, was scarcely documented. Most of what was down here consisted of invertebrates and microscopic life that seemed to float past my viewport.
The light seemed to draw a few creatures in search of food. Small, hardy things that resembled shrimp.
“How’s it looking, Grayson?”
“Dark,” I said, half joking. “We’ve got some life… shrimp. They’re translucent. Can’t get a great look at them… but we’ll see what the cameras pick up.”
“They’ve recognized you as a friend,” Sheila said. I could almost see the smile on her lips as she said it.
“Yeah…” I replied, “Tempura sent them a message, told them I’d be down. How am I looking on depth?”
“35,000 feet… you seeing a bottom yet?”
“No… not that I would until I was there.”
“Damn… how deep does this go?”
“It can’t go that deep…” I murmured, although I really wasn’t so sure about that.
The submarine continued to sink…
36,000 feet…
37,000 feet…
38,000 feet… and then finally, just past the 39,000 foot mark, I finally saw solid ground below me.
Looking through my viewport, I could see a familiar dark brown diatomaceous sludge, covering the seafloor. Microscopic life, likely similar to what had been observed in other deep sea trenches, such as the Challenger Deep.
I needed to gather a sample.
As my submarine reached the bottom, I extended the mechanical arms, pressed flat against the surface of the Tempura, and opened the collection port near the bottom of the ship. Slowly, I sifted some of the sludge into the port. My disturbance of the seafloor kicked up a cloud of the microbial colony, and I could’ve sworn I saw something wiggling through the debris. A pale, white thing, perhaps some sort of sea cucumber? I hastily angled my submarines camera to try and catch a glimpse of it, before returning to my collection. Even in this forlorn place, there was still so much to see! And here I was… completely forgetting my fear as the excitement took hold of me! Few people had ever been down to these unfathomable depths… and yet here I was.
It didn’t feel real but it was! I had reached the deepest part of the ocean!
“How’s it going down there?” I heard Sheila ask. Her voice was a little garbled. The connection down here was faltering.
“It’s beautiful…” I said. “I can’t wait for you to see it!”
“I’ll bet…”
“I’m going to do a sweep of the area, see what samples I can gather,” I said. “What’s my time right now?”
“Three hours. You’ve got nine before your connection to the weight deteriorates and you start to ascend.”
“I’ll make the most of it,” I said. The plan was only to stay down there for six hours, and I didn’t want to push that limit. Life support would only last me for so long, and one little error was all it would take for the ungodly pressure down here to crush me.
I began to move the submarine. Mobility was limited. This thing wasn’t built to travel far. But I still had some limited movement. I recorded all that I could, filming the shrimp that investigated my light, and the things that slithered and crawled through the muck, likely feeding on the carpet of single celled organisms that populated these depths.
The first two hours were… well… I hesitate to call them uneventful, they were actually very fascinating, but little of note happened beyond my recording of a few specimens.
Midway through the third hour though, as I was reaching one of the rock walls of the abyss, I noticed something just above the edge of my viewport swimming away from the light. I could’ve sworn I saw slender, pale tentacles of some sort. Was that a squid? Were there squid down this deep? I wasn’t aware of any species of known squid who could reach these depths… but in this unknown place, what use was the known?
I moved my light and my camera to try and catch another glimpse of it, but whatever it was, it seemed to be gone. Maybe I’d see another one. I still had plenty of time.
“You made a noise. What’d you see?” Sheila asked.
“Something big… I think,” I said.
“Down there? Like a fish?”
“Squid. You wouldn’t find any vertebrates down this deep… the pressure would crush their bones.”
“Jeez…”
I didn’t reply to that, still searching for the thing I’d seen. I shone my light up along the walls of the chasm and angled my camera up as far as it would go. I could see a few volcanic vents, spewing dark clouds into the darkness, and more diatoms. But not much else. Strange invertebrates crawled along the walls. Small creatures, no bigger than an inch long. Related to isopods, perhaps? If I could collect one as a sample, I would have… although taking any of those back to the surface would surely kill them. They were built to live under the impossible pressure of these depths. Taking them to the surface would rip them apart.
I went back to my research, and it wasn’t long until I saw something in the darkness, just on the edge of where my flashlight reached. Trailing white tendrils, snaking their way through the darkness. My eyes narrowed as I moved the submarine forward, trying to catch whatever it was in the light. I saw the shape move, its body turning… I saw its tendrils unfurling. Whatever this was, it was big. It was almost as big as The Tempura… although it was also slender. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought I was looking at some sort of floating debris, but this far down? No. And debris wouldn’t move like that.
This had to be a deepsea squid… or perhaps some other type of cephalopod? Something that preyed upon the various invertebrates down here, perhaps? It seemed to float, just out of sight for a bit, as I tried to get closer. I angled up my light to get a better look at it. The light seemed to shine through it, like some sort of ghost… but I did manage to get a look at it.
Although that look…
That single look made me freeze up.
This things slender tendrils certainly resembled a cephalopod of some sort, but the rest of it… the rest of it looked like something else entirely. Its body was thin, emaciated and translucent, yet despite that it still had characteristics that almost seemed… human. It wasn’t human! Not by any stretch of imagination, but the resemblance was there. It almost reminded me of an exhibit I’d seen in a museum once, depicting a preserved, fully removed human nervous system. I could see a similar shape in its translucent body. Its head seemed almost human as well… albeit with no eyes, and a lamprey like mouth I could only describe as fleshy yet crablike.
Still, despite having no eyes I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was looking at me. And that was when I felt something hit the submarine.
I felt a sudden jolt of panic in my chest. For a moment, I thought that the pressure had started to crush me, but no… no, everything was still fine. Something had just hit me. But what? It didn’t take long before I got my answer.
Another pale creature floated past my viewport, swirling gracefully in the cold dark waters. I watched it for a moment with wide eyes, before noticing its ‘head’ turning slightly toward me. Then, almost instantly, it launched itself at the submarine, darting toward me with blinding speed.
I heard a distinct THUD as its body collided with me, and I could see its pale tendrils pressing against the viewport, twisting and writhing violently. It was trying to attack me. The first creature that I’d seen lunged as well, pounding on my submarine with another THUD. And moments later, I could hear more impacts against the hull. There were more of them… and they did not like having me down there.
“What’s going on?” Sheila asked.
“Somebody doesn’t like me…” I said. “One of the animals down here… some kind of squid, it’s just started attacking the hull.”
“How bad is the damage?”
“Not sure… could be nothing, could be-”
I felt the submarine shake as I tried to move it. The thrusters that pushed me forward weren't responding. Had something gotten caught in it? One of the creatures perhaps?
“Grayson?!” Sheila asked.
“Lost propulsion…” I said. “Fuck… I can’t move.”
“Then drop the weight and come up!”
“No, it’s fine, there’s no other damage, I can still use the port and starboard thrusters to-”
“Grayson!”
I paused. There was genuine panic in her voice… enough to make me realize that even if these things stood little chance of actually breaching the hull, taking the risk would be a fatal mistake.
“I’m on my way up…” I finally said, before reaching out to disengage the ballast weights.
Immediately, I felt myself beginning to rise, although the tentacles clinging to my viewport didn’t disappear.
“We’ve got you…” Sheila said. “Rising up to 38,000 feet.”
The submarine continued to rise, but the creatures clinging to me went nowhere. In fact… I was sure I could see more of them. More pale shapes coming up through the darkness, and these ones filled me with dread. I thought I had been looking at some sort of eerie undiscovered life. But seeing what was coming up toward me now… I knew that I was looking at so much more. The creatures swimming up toward me through the darkness carried weapons… makeshift stone spears and daggers. Primitive tools… but tools all the same.
Signs that these were more than just undiscovered animals.
Much. Much more.
The word: ‘Mermaids’ crossed through my mind, but these were something far different than the ones I’d heard of in folklore. These looked like they’d swam out of the depths of hell itself. Boneless pale tendrils reached for me… and they were getting closer. The pale shapes reached my submarine as I rose higher. I kept praying to whatever God may be listening that the dropping pressure would force them off. The air in a submarine is pressurized, so during normal operation, there should have been no danger of decompression sickness for me.
For them… well… normally I’d feel a little guilty about subjecting an undiscovered species of deep sea mermaids to the horrors of the Bends. But given my circumstances, I didn’t have a lot of other options.
They didn’t let go, though.
They should have. But they didn’t.
What were these things?
I saw a splayed hand press against my viewport. Or… it somewhat resembled a hand. It had suckers on it, like a tentacle and the ‘fingers’ curled open like tentacles. The creature crawled over my viewport, clinging to The Tempura as it rose, and I could see the folds of its crablike mouth opening and pressing against the glass. I could see some sort of bile rising up through its translucent throat, before it secreted it all over my viewport. Was it trying to digest me? Was that how these things fed? How strong were its stomach acids? Were they strong enough to-
The window cracked.
My heart skipped a beat.
“No… no, no no…”
“Grayson, what’s wrong?!”
“They cracked the window… S-Sheila they… oh God… oh fuck, they just…”
“THEY DID WHAT?”
“It’s secreting some sort of enzyme… it’s on the window, it’s… FUCK… I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die…”
“You’re not gonna die, baby! Just… just keep ascending, okay? You’re at 30,000 feet… just keep going…”
I nodded, and kept on rising, although the question of whether or not the rest of the creatures were trying to digest the other parts of my submarine floated through my mind. How much damage could The Tempura take before it imploded? How much longer did I have? The submarine still continued to rise… 25,000 feet… almost halfway home… almost… almost.
The creature outside of my viewport slithered along the glass, searching for a better area to try and digest. Past him, I noticed a few of his companions dropping off. Maybe the change in pressure finally was getting to them?
From the corner of my eye, I suddenly noticed a flashing light. A warning. The hydraulics on one of the Tempura’s arms were shot… what else was damaged?
I checked my oxygen levels. 32%.
I should’ve had at least 14 hours of air. I’d only been down there for about 6 hours… I shouldn’t have been this low.
31%.
No… no, no, no, no… they’d damaged the air tanks!
30%.
29%
“20,000 feet!” Sheila said. “You still with me, baby?”
“Y-yeah…” I said. I didn’t mention my air situation. I didn’t need to worry her further.
The submarine continued its ascent.
15,000 feet.
24%. I was running out of time.
The creatures still clung to the Tempura. How had the pressure change not killed them yet? My oxygen was dropping faster than before. I was hemorrhaging air. Another crack formed across my viewport. I let out a little, involuntary gasp before trying to force myself to stop hyperventilating.
“Grayson, what was that?”
“I-it’s fine…” I stammered, “It’s fine!”
“Grayson what the hell is going on down there?!”
“They’re still on the submarine… they’re still…” I paused, looking at my oxygen levels. “19%...”
“19% of what? Grayson what’s going on!”
I paused.
18%.
“Air… I’m… I’m losing air…”
“That’s fine, you’re going to make it!” She said, although I heard her voice cracking a little. “You’re gonna make it!”
I didn’t answer.
12,000 feet.
11,000 feet…
My oxygen level continued to drop.
15%.
14%.
12%.
9,000 feet.
The creatures still clung to me, as the submarine continued to rise. The one on my viewport was still there, slowly crawling along the glass again. I stared into its eyeless face and swore I was looking at the face of my killer.
7,000 feet…
Oxygen had dropped to 9%. It dropped to 8% before I even got to 6,000 feet. I was going to die here…
The viewport cracked again and I squeezed my eyes shut. The submarine rocked. I was sure one of the thrusters had been damaged. My ascent slowed.
“Grayson, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry Sheila…”
Another crack spread across my viewport.
“I’m… I’m not making it back up…”
“YES YOU ARE!”
“I’m sorry…” The tears started to come as the reality of my death became clearer and clearer… this was it.
“YOU’RE COMING BACK UP, YOU HEAR ME! GODDAMNIT, I’LL BRING YOU BACK UP!”
“I love you…”
That creatures face pressed against the glass. It vomited more of its stomach acid onto the cracked glass, and I wondered if this might finally be what broke it. Part of me hoped it would be… the one good thing about dying this deep was that at least I’d die quickly. My suffering would be over. Then, the creature suddenly pulled back, twisting and writhing violently. I saw other shapes moving past it in the water, other ‘mermaids’ that had been clinging to the submarine.
Something was agitating them.
Something was scaring them off.
Then I heard it, over the radio… whale songs.
“What the hell…?”
“Grayson, are you still there?!”
“I… they’re finally breaking off. Sheila, what did you do?”
“I’m broadcasting some of the orca recordings we’ve been using. Are they still clinging to you?”
“No! They’re backing off! I… whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”
The submarine kept rising.
5,000 feet.
4,000 feet.
4% oxygen.
I could still do this, right?
The submarine continued to rise.
3%.
3,000 feet.
2,000 feet.
2%.
1,000 feet… so close… I was so close…
I could almost see the surface through my viewport, rushing up toward me. I tried not to breathe. Tried not to move. All I did was hope.
500 feet.
I closed my eyes.
“Grayson we have your signal, we’re coming to pick you up!”
Sheila’s voice sounded so far away as my submarine finally breached the surface of the water… and with the last of my strength, I pulled the emergency release on the hatch, and threw it open, taking in lungful after lungful of fresh salty air.
I didn’t dare so much as touch the water beneath me… but I was topside again, and in the distance, I could see The Burger!
“We see you!” Sheila said, “We’ve got you baby… we’ve got you…”
“I see you too…” I said through the tears. “Thank you… thank you…” I didn’t have any words left in me after that.
As soon as I was back on the ship, I collapsed into Sheila’s arms, breaking down into tears as I clung to her, terrified that at any moment, some sort of unspoken other shoe would drop and I’d lose her all over again.
“Shh… it’s alright baby… I’ve got you… you’re safe… you’re safe…” I felt her fingers running through my air and I knew that what she said was true.
I was home.
I was safe.
***
I left my colleagues to review the data that the Tempura gathered during its short expedition. As far as I know, they haven’t published anything. I have a few ideas as to why, but I’ll keep those to myself. Let’s just say that some people would rather this information not become public.
I have a feeling that the Tempura may not be diving again for some time, if ever. I will confess that I do consider that a bit of a shame. Despite everything… I would consider it a success. It endured far more stressful conditions than I had expected, and from what I heard, required fewer repairs than I’d thought it would. But, even if it was approved for another dive, it wouldn’t be me piloting it. No. I will never be setting foot inside of that machine again, nor will I ever be returning to what my colleagues have been quietly referring to as ‘The Jenner Trench’.
I can’t.
Every night, I wake up crying after dreaming of pale shapes outside of my cracked viewport, clinging to Sheila and sobbing. I can’t put myself in that situation again.
I can’t.
Instead, I think I’m going to spend the next few years on solid ground. There’s a teaching position available at a local university. I think that might be the best place for me right now. Who knows, maybe I can help some other deadbeat discover a passion for marine biology.
After everything, my love for the sea remains unchanged… I’m just a little more wary of it, these days.

First < Previous Next >
I snap my head back down, with renewed vigour and hope about communicating with everyone without needing to play charades. With the knowledge that this is a microphone, my mind swims with the possibilities. If they can grow quartz crystals, they may be able to refine and grow silicon crystals, effectively making computers. Getting back on track, I add a resistor above the tremorsense and attach a ground wire below it. Tapping off between the resistor and tremorsense, I look to Silvra and gesture towards the translator.
“And what do you think you are doing?” She remarks, eying the setup with a mix of scepticism and intrigue. Her arms were folded, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Just because you may be able to overhaul our entire way of life, does not mean I will give you something worth half a year’s wage. You best get to explaining yourself.”
Taking a deep breath, I sketched a quick diagram on the paper between us. I outlined how the piezoelectric effect of the tremorsense could convert sound into electrical signals that the translator could interpret. “It’s like turning vibrations into voices,” I explained, hoping the simplicity of the analogy would bridge the gap my technical terms could not.
“It…should work. Why has no one thought of this before?!” Silvra asks eagerly, reaching for even more paper, with Thallion leaning in to take notes as we possibly cross the language barrier.
Silvra passes me the translator, and carefully I place the tap wire on the central nub, and the ground on the body, similar to how their hands work with the metallic pin and the rest of their hand. I then reach for my phone and attach the power to the resistor, and the ground to the body of the translator as well.
I speak.
“can you hear me?” I ask, apprehensively, hoping I did not just blow up the device. It’s faint whine either being a really good thing, or a very bad thing.
“What was that?!” Lena turns around, after staring off into space as we got technical.
“i said, can you hear me?”
“yes we can!” Lena exclaims, not through the device, but from across the table, her eyes wide with astonishment.
“I can too. it is a little dull, but we can hear you. and you can hear us! without us touching it!” Thallion remarks,
I notice that yes, I can hear them, but rather than being melodic and transferring all the intent behind the meaning of the word, translating the emphasis, it comes across as dull, flat and lifeless, like text to speech readers. I find it quite painful to listen to.
“Perhaps it's a minor calibration issue,” I suggested, already thinking about adjustments to enhance the voice modulation.
“maybe i can sound like a robot for now, but perhaps, you should continue playing hot potato with the translator?”
“forget that!” Silvra remarks. “i may sound flat, but i don’t have to pass the device around! i can just leave it on a desk somewhere and it will just work!”
“not only is this an overhaul in this device, but think of the implications. we can talk across species without needing to touch very complex systems. we may even be able to communicate with animals, Lena!”
Lena perks up at this, “if i could talk to them, then i may be able to convince the big ones to leave us alone, but I worry about what that means if they are truly intelligent.”
Looking back at the device, I think back to the little I remember for analog electronics. The device can pass emotion and translate it, so it is capable of doing so. Maybe there is an issue with the prefilter? I could possibly fix that.
“silvra, it is amazing that we can talk, but I find it painful to listen to all of you due to the robotic voice. i think i can fix it. do you have the schematics for the device?”
“i don’t know what robot is, but i am guessing the flat sound, i do have drawings, let me go get them”
Silvra heads out, and Tallion is writing down everything. Lena is leaning over his shoulder.
“i know you are upset, but what you did is monumental, communication without contact, translation without touch. just remember that you are using your phone for power!” Lena states. I cannot tell emotion but bittersweet is all I can get.
Silvra enters again, knocking the snow off her clothes carrying some yellowed paper. Placing them down before me, I look across them.
“maybe increase the power input? That usually works for us. More space for clarity, or something,” Thallion adds, trying to be helpful.
I shake my head no, trying to ignore what he just said, based on the fact that is how humanity killed the first transatlantic cables. It is not a power issue as the device turns on, but a warping or nonlinearity of the data itself.
After a few moments of staring at the schematics, I find the input and the first thing I see is the massive choke directly after the input.
“a ha! found it!” I exclaim, reaching for the toolkit that Silvra brought over a few days ago. “just need to remove the choke at the front!”
“before you go voiding the warranty on this, why would that solve anything? that is how we regulate the flow of power!”
“i make direct current from my phone, so i don’t need to regulate it, in fact, that choke is destroying all high frequencies. i will talk about it if this works.”
“ok, but i’ll dismantle it. just point out the part on the schematic, and provide a jumper to cross over the holes”
Sighing, I grab the cables from the toolbox, along with the soldering iron and candle. Silvra grabs the components from me, and carefully unscrews the ground bell from around the power pin. Finding the power pin’s input into the interior, there is a large coil. Silvra quickly removes the coil and puts the jumper in its place.
Reassembling it, she gestures for me to talk. Taking a deep breath, and reconnecting my phone, I talk.
“Good afternoon everyone! And welcome to a new era! One of power for all!”
“I can hear you loud and clear!” Silvra exclaims, jumping up from the table.
“Astounding! Decoding the schematic and removing the choke did solve the problem!” Thallion replies.
“It worked before, and now it works better, I still think the first is more important to document”, Lena interjects, clearly getting bored of all of this tech talk
“So, Silvra,” I mention, “removing the choke works due to the same way the coil of wire moves coins: magnetism. Over the next few days we’ll be going over this in a lot more detail, but the choke does not choke the current, it converts it into magnetism, which is then released later. A changing current results in a changing magnet inside. It is very weak but enough to smooth input ripples, and stretch out the input spike slightly, which is probably why it is there in the first place.”
“But it comes with a downside. It acts stronger on faster switching pulses than on slow ones. My dc power has only an on pulse, but the signal of my voice is made of many higher vibrations. The choke would have killed this high frequency, and would have only passed the lower, which would be the fundamental frequencies only, sounding flat. The translator would then only be able to act on this flattened signal.”
“Now, I only got about half of that, but it stores the current as something called magnetism, saving it for later, and smoothing out the input,” Thallion states, looking up from his notes.
“Exactly. Think of it like a dam. Takes the surges and smooths them out, but you lose the changes caused by individual rainfalls”
“So what exactly is magnetism?”
“That is a good question, and contains several fields, chemistry, physics, all of what we classify as science. It will look like magic to you, but any sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from science. Just be ready to learn.
“Does this make the motor thing spin?” Lena asks.
“Yes, yes it does.” I reply, looking at my phone and the power slowly but steadily dropping.

Hello, I am creating a REST API for a user authentication and authorization system using Django and Django REST Framework.
And for user authentication, I am using the following:
model:

@dataclass class RefreshTokenModel(models.Model): user = models.ForeignKey(User, on_delete=models.CASCADE) token = uuid.uuid4()#models.UUIDField(default=uuid.uuid4, editable=False, unique=True) created_at = models.DateTimeField(auto_now_add=True) expires_at = models.DateTimeField() #expires_at = models.DateTimeField(default= timezone.now() + datetime.timedelta(days=30)) def save(self, *args, **kwargs): if not self.expires_at: self.expires_at = timezone.now() + datetime.timedelta(days=30) super().save(*args, **kwargs)#""" 

view:

class CustomTokenObtainPairView(View): #TokenObtainPairView permission_classes = (AllowAny,) #serializer = TokenObtainPairSerializer def post(self, request): serializer = LoginSerializer(data=request.data) if serializer.is_valid(): user = authenticate(username=serializer.validated_data['email'], password=serializer.validated_data['password']) if user: refresh = RefreshToken.for_user(user) if str(refresh.token) == "None": return Response('Something is wrong') return Response({ 'access_token': str(refresh.access_token), 'refresh_token': str(refresh.token) }) return Response({'detail': 'Invalid credentials'}, status=status.HTTP_401_UNAUTHORIZED) return Response(serializer.errors, status=status.HTTP_400_BAD_REQUEST) 

serializer:

class LoginSerializer(serializers.Serializer): email = serializers.EmailField(required=True) password = serializers.CharField(style={'input_type': 'password'}, write_only=True, required=True, validators=[validate_password]) 

url:

urlpatterns = [ path('api/registe',RegisterUserAPIView.as_view(), name='User-Registration'), path('api/login/', CustomTokenObtainPairView.as_view(), name='Authentication'), 

During the testing, the refresh token, when trying to login, is None.
Can anyone please tell me why is this happening and where did I go wrong?
Thank you.

• reveal the optimum distribution of infrastructure to maximize each person's productive output/ quality of life 😇
  
• analyze animal and plant metrics that reveal what restoration/ preservation techniques are called for to restore bio-sphere equilibrium to environments all over this world🙈🙉🙊
  
• trace the contributing factors of global warming and define the simplest route to mitigation (prolly relates to solving my previous suggested challenge)💀☠️👾🤖💫
  
• develop the most effective education curriculum based off of all of the datasets of teaching methods and subject prioritization that has resulted in outcomes of highest (capable to be diacerned) realized potential🥹💌🧠
  
• develop the most effective recycling system ♻️
  
• develop geo-textiles and bio-textiles that are non-toxic, involve no animal slaughter, and are incredibly cheap to produce🗨👍
  

-act as financial system auditors, capable of creating monetary transparency calculations for Governments that detect the routes of corruption/lost efficiency in fund allocation🤑🤮🤧
-trace the genealogy of all Wisdom teachers of every religion and present the connections clearly and accessibly🥸
-clarify the connections between each Spirituality and religions core tenets/teachings and clearly explain how they would benefit humans and other life (the idea here is to assess the competitiveness between different Spiritualities and Religions and reduce the wars and other fights about their differences)😇💫🙏👀
-translate animal languages (create a tool that analyzes animal socialization and translates it into data that clearly makes effective Human to non-human communication do-able at a new level, utilizing all data available) [beastmaster tech ^probably very useful in Treks off world to other living civilizations^ 😻❤️‍🔥💫
-create non-sentient animal simulators (and provide them open source) capable of testing medicines and END ANIMAL TESTING/cruelty in industries that utilize it (techno-substition)🙈🙉🙊

• create energy production systems that create zero harmful/non-recyclable waste and reveal the positions to implement them that result in the most significant/efficient effect 💫💦💨

What ideas do yall gots?

Recent tech school grad here, just starting my CDCs for a 3e351 and am being told the failure rate for the EOC is 90% with the new system!?! Has anybody found any methods that work for preparing for a test this hard?

In the dynamic world of business, adaptability is crucial. The concept of ATM Adaptation (At the Moment Adaptation) emphasizes the need for businesses to be agile and responsive to real-time changes and opportunities. Integrating ATM Adaptation into your Blue Ocean Marketing Strategy can help you stay ahead of the curve, continuously innovate, and maintain a competitive edge in an uncontested market space. Here's how to strategically plan and implement ATM Adaptation within your Blue Ocean Marketing Strategy.

Understanding ATM Adaptation

ATM Adaptation involves making real-time adjustments based on immediate feedback and market conditions. It is about being proactive and responsive, ensuring that your strategies remain relevant and effective in a rapidly changing environment.

Steps to Implement ATM Adaptation

1. Establish a Real-Time Feedback System

Customer Feedback Channels

• Utilize various channels such as social media, customer service interactions, and surveys to gather immediate feedback.
• Implement chatbots and live chat options on your website to capture customer inputs instantly.

Data Analytics Tools

• Employ advanced analytics tools to monitor market trends, customer behavior, and competitive actions in real-time.
• Use sentiment analysis tools to gauge customer emotions and opinions about your brand and offerings.

2. Create a Flexible Organizational Structure

Agile Teams

• Form cross-functional agile teams that can quickly respond to changes and implement new strategies.
• Encourage a culture of collaboration and continuous improvement.

Decentralized Decision-Making

• Empower employees at all levels to make decisions that align with the company's strategic goals.
• Implement a decentralized decision-making process to reduce bureaucracy and speed up response times.

3. Integrate Real-Time Data into Strategy Development

Dynamic SWOT Analysis

• Regularly update your SWOT analysis to reflect current market conditions and emerging opportunities or threats.
• Use real-time data to adjust your strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats promptly.

Continuous Market Research

• Conduct ongoing market research to stay updated on industry trends and consumer preferences.
• Utilize real-time data to identify shifts in the market and adapt your strategy accordingly.

4. Develop Adaptive Marketing Tactics

Personalized Marketing Campaigns

• Use data-driven insights to create personalized marketing campaigns that resonate with individual customers.
• Leverage automation tools to tailor messages based on real-time customer interactions and behaviors.

Real-Time Content Marketing

• Create and distribute content that is relevant to current events and trending topics.
• Use social media and other digital platforms to engage with your audience in real-time.

5. Implement a Continuous Innovation Process

Innovation Sprints

• Conduct regular innovation sprints to brainstorm and develop new ideas quickly.
• Test new concepts and prototypes in real-time to gather immediate feedback and iterate.

Pilot Programs

• Launch pilot programs to test new strategies, products, or services in a controlled environment.
• Use the feedback from these pilots to refine and improve before a full-scale launch.

6. Monitor and Measure Performance

Real-Time KPIs

• Establish key performance indicators (KPIs) that can be tracked in real-time.
• Use dashboards and reporting tools to monitor these KPIs continuously.

Adaptive Metrics

• Develop metrics that can adapt to changing market conditions and business priorities.
• Regularly review and adjust these metrics to ensure they remain aligned with your strategic goals.

Benefits of ATM Adaptation

Increased Agility

• By integrating ATM Adaptation, your business can quickly pivot and respond to new opportunities and challenges.

Enhanced Customer Satisfaction

• Real-time feedback allows you to address customer needs and concerns promptly, leading to higher satisfaction and loyalty.

Sustained Competitive Advantage

• Continuous innovation and adaptability help you stay ahead of competitors, even in a rapidly changing market.

Improved Efficiency

• Agile teams and decentralized decision-making processes enhance operational efficiency and reduce time-to-market for new initiatives.

Case Study: Netflix

Netflix exemplifies ATM Adaptation by continuously evolving its content and services based on real-time viewer data. By analyzing viewing habits and preferences, Netflix can recommend personalized content, develop new shows that cater to emerging trends, and adjust its offerings to maintain subscriber engagement. This adaptability has helped Netflix remain a leader in the streaming industry, consistently creating a blue ocean of uncontested market space.

Conclusion

ATM Adaptation is a vital component of a successful Blue Ocean Marketing Strategy. By establishing a real-time feedback system, creating a flexible organizational structure, integrating real-time data, developing adaptive marketing tactics, implementing a continuous innovation process, and monitoring performance, businesses can enhance their agility, customer satisfaction, and competitive advantage. Embrace ATM Adaptation to ensure your blue ocean strategy remains relevant and effective in a constantly evolving market landscape.

I'm a bit lost of how this things interact. I will describe what I want to make first

• Use pylsp through eglot,
• Have a virtual enviroment for each python project,
• Be able to manage the enviroments through emacs (tried poetry and pipenv),
• Have the linting, lsp, jedi, black, flake8, ruff, etc installed out of my project venvs, as some of these are shared with others.
• Have it easy to change, or automatic between enviroments when I change projects.

I have tried some things (pipenv, virtualenvwrapper and poetry), but it ends up breaking when I try to isolate projects. It sort of worked when I had everything installed directly on debian, when I tested things with a fresh install, but not if I try to leave the system packages alone, as one should do with python and have venvs for each project.
What happend most often is that eglot/pylsp did not recognize the installed packages in the venvs, I tried to install pylsp in one "general" venv, I it worked well, untill I realized that I did not have the projects in enviroments (I had created several accidentally with poetry and venvwrapper at the same time, and neither of those where active when developing), and the dependencies where a mess as result.
So I ask in general what would be the best practice to keep things clean?, and in more detail:

1. where to install the lsp and other IDE packages,
2. how to make emacs aware of the enviroments to manage them,
   • know what enviroment I'm in,
   • be able to change enviroment,
   • intall packages to the enviroment.
3. How to make eglot understand that the project has its own enviroment and should recognise the installed packages in the enviroment?

Hello,
We are developing a decision-support system for Defense, basically a locally running AI co-pilot for boots on-the-ground personnel. Our plan is to develop a parallel system for Airsoft as an experimental platform to test new features and improve the system before we deploy it to customers within defense.
We already have some alpha testers ready to alpha-test our product, but we would like to find more early testers. We are mostly looking for early users from the EU (since we are based here), but will also consider users from the US.
The system (as it currently looks like) consists of a mask attachable camera (so the decision-support can see what the user sees), a compute node (that contains a local GPU + model) and wiring to connect to existing headsets. We will also have software (map / dashboard) for team leads to orchestrate their team.
Also very eager to hear more general feedback on this in terms of:

• What features would you like to see on the voice-assistant
• What features would you like to see on the team-lead software
• Any other feedback

If you are interested in trying it out please DM me or sign up via this link: https://www.tacticaprime.com/
Vytautas

I'm too tired and also unable to turn the water on for a shower. When did showering become the equivalent of going up a mountain, backwards & blindfolded?
Chemo blasted my nerves, creating an avalanche of pain and swelling that has been ongoing for a couple of years. My hands will lock up and I'm unable to bend my fingers. I have a test soon to see what my nervous system is doing and I hope to get some kind of physio to get me mobile again.
Well, the weather is lovely and I live near a lake that I know one day I'll be walking next to it on the beach. I keep the memories of the freedom it is to be walking without my walker can be inside my mind and it helps me to focus.
Sorry to complain, I just needed to shout into the void.

After ruin we learn that after many years The Mimic has been set free after Cassie follows a fake Gregory, but why did Gregory betray Cassie at the end? Well what if it wasnt The Mimic being the "big baddie" of Ruin, but in fact Gregory?! Well im here to explain why, Gregory is said to be a Robot by MatPat, right? and if we were to believe that theory, than what if it has something to do with Afton? now many people are gonna say that Glitchtrap is The Mimic, but in another theory I placed many facts that debunk that theory (See here) and there is more things that prove my first statement about Gregory being the villain, which is what I will explain now, you see people think that Gregroy is patient 46 and GGY, but people ignore that, but, this isnt about Patient 46, but GGY, GGY is a master hacker, and serves a strange bunny, but remember that, remember that for later, you see, Glitchtrap should be gone, now that Vanness and Burntrap is, right? WRONG, apparantly in HW2 hes still there, and thriving, but dont you find it strange that most SB characters are there, other than Gregory, strange huh, but now, lets talk about Ruin, we follow someone with the voice of a strange Gregory voce who turns out to be the Mimic, but what about Helpy, people ignore this too, Helpy apparantly was hacked by a strange purple energy, which isnt purple "So it cant be Glitchtrap, right" Maybe not him, but Gregory?! Gregory is mainly assosciated with Bright Orange, its the color of his eyes, the color of his hiding acheivment, and the color helpy is controlled by, now remember helpy helps Cassie throughout Ruin, while when Gregory uses it, it saves his spot, but its helpy right? Well if GGY servers a strange rabbit, and like Glitchtrap, GGY and Gregory are master hackers, right? the pieces start to fall together about the strange rabbit, huh? Its Afton, and explains why hes not gone, without a Physical Body, Glitchtrap cant do anything, however you might say HW2 was in VR, however In Character, its a testing place for fazbear employees, and Gregory serving the strange rabbit also explains why he sounds strange in the elevator, and you might say its The Mimic, but mimicking voices isnt something The Mimic can do, but also William Afton, but not just as Glitchtrap, he made an Anamatronic who can mimic the voices of parents, and thats the lovable Funtime Freddy, William is also the only person who knows how to hack, other than Vanessa HUH, and also both seem to only hack Anamatronics, and have some connection to Arcade Games HUH, and also, both people have different personalities when their around other people HUH, three coincidences, huh, but that one dosnt count, anyway GGy winning every game, aslo mainly has a high-score thats Yellowish Gold, "So it cant be Gregory, right?" Well the so does the "Dodge and Wave" Acheivment, and also, Gold is also mainly connected to things like Springbonnie, but thats not really important, and also If Gregory is a robot, it explains why he would be easier to hack, and also when Freddy says he senses he is broken, it dosent have to be because he is the Crying Child, but because he is fighting to gain control over his body, and becoming an entirely different person (GGY) broke him, just like Jeremy being a different person, broke him, but to the point to stop himself, he commit suicide, it also explains why he sounds infuriating at the start of Security Breach, and what would you know it, when the REAL Gregory shows up on the speakers, his voice sounds simple and fake, just like Tape Girl at the end AKA Vannessa, HUH, now thats four, and oh wait THERES MORE! even though simple and plain was The Mimic, there is no reason for him to speak to Cassie again convincing her that he was a threat to the world, and also, The Anamatronics going after him dosnt mean they want to kill him, they arnet possesed (Possibly other than Glamrock Freddy) and actually say they want to help him (But I do think that Monty did want to kill him) until he destroyed them, there is no reason for him to destroy them every time, and it seems a bit familiar, leading them into their own places, just to kill and dissasemble them, and Gregory shdent know how to install other Anamatronic parts, and also one more thing that confirms hes a robot, when Vanny gets close to him, his eyes get static, but can still see her, im not doing MatPats Crying Child Theory, but his eyes being Staticy isnt something Human, and the fact that he can be "Broken" is still a bit wierd, and the fact that Gregory is so aggressive, and has no reason to take Cassie down, even when The Mimic cant follow, to the place she was getting away from, Gregory having "Friends" makes no sense as he was only friends with Cassie, and you could say Glamrock Freddy, but he cant hack the comms, and also, how would he have access to them without hacking, he also can control GlamRock Freddy, you can say any child in him, but the fact that its all wiery, and he can use wires to charge freddy, and possibly control things, leads me to believe he didnt control Freddy because he let him, but because he controlled him, and on stage, most people presume its because Glitchtrap hacked him, MatPat believes that its because he saw Gregory as Crying Child, but despite his eyes scanning over the crowd, he was staring at a blank area, and his stomach hatch is the only place not glitching, and it says child detected,however it was the system that detects him, not Freddy, and with that, Gregory already was in the stomach hatch when he awoke, AND he already can control him, thats a bit strange huh? and finally, Gregory can hide in the charging station, which would presumably electrecute and kill a Human, and there is no "Good" reason for him to lie about his friends being destroyed unless he was manipulating him from the start, and with all that, I beleive that Gregory is the Villain, but hey thats just a theory a Game Theory! (Thanks for reading!)

So, I've been on my healing journey for almost a decade. I've come a really long way! I stopped trauma-specific therapy a few years back because I felt I had reached the limit of what I could do with it. I took a couple years off and have been in attachment-based therapy for the past 1-2 years. I sought that out because, while I thought I had a handle on living with trauma day to day, doing so in relationships feels like the advanced class and I felt ready for the challenge.
Second bit of backstory is that when I started trauma therapy all those years ago, I was my most serious (and not healthy) relationship at the time. My body crashed physically. I started taking a bunch of tests and trying supplements because I thought maybe I had an autoimmune disorder or something. Doctors were no help and I had generally been a healthy-ish person before that. After that relationship ended and trauma therapy got less intense, I went into remission. Well, cut to now...years of feeling healthy and I started trying to date again. Got into a relationship that was healthy but still being vulnerable is not the most comfortable and hard work for me and I'm getting sick all the time with weird infections, extreme fatigue. We just broke up a couple weeks ago and it's the first stretch of time where I haven't gotten sick again.
I know this might sound woo woo to some. Trust me, these are not just psychosomatic symptoms. Like actual infections on my skin and very obvious things wrong with me. I'm starting to think I'm allergic to relationships and my nervous system just can't handle them at all. Has anyone else had similar experiences?

I'd like your opinions on it. Bear in mind it's a rough draft.

"When You Gaze At The Abyss, The Abyss Gazes Back."
===================
At your darkest hour, when hope is gone, he will appear before you, clad in darkness, offering salvation. You must never take his hand.
The Doctor is a mysterious entity dressed like a plague doctor clad in mists that appears those who lost everything, individuals who has reached rock bottom, individuals who were beaten by life, regardless of gender, age, or nationality and offers them salvation. Fake salvation through the miraculous substance called "Ambrosia".
The drug alters the individual and grants him supernatural abilities as well as an extreme euphoric sensation but it comes at a cost. If the individual is compatible to the drug, they'll become an Exol, an Etherlite, a Corpus or an Aria, each possessing unique abilities. After using one's abilities, they will suffer the consequences and symptoms. If not compatible - they will die a gruesome death.
The individual must continually sacrifice things like memories, emotions, limbs, or organs(their own or others') to The Doctor in order to get another dose. With each dose, the symptoms will worsen and they will eventually be consumed by The Doctor who comes to collect his payment. The drug would consume its victims(users) like cancer.
Exol Upon consumption of the Ambrosia drug, the Exol's skeletal structure will be altered and restructured, allowing for several unique abilities. The Exol can freely soften & harden their bones as well as extract these bones out of their body and reconstruct them into tools and weapons. The drawback is that once used, it requires immense energy to regenerate "used" bones and thus Exol are prone to chronic fatigue.
Etherlite Upon consumption of the Ambrosia drug, the Etherlite's nervous system and brain would be altered. By overstimulating the nervous system and brain, i.e accelerating or deccelerating the brain and nervous system, the Etherlite gains the ability to process and respond to information unnaturally fast, resulting in inhumane reaction speed, precision, and manipulation of their senses, for example, dulling their sense of pain or avoiding bullets. The drawback of being a Etherlite is insomnia, acute over-sensitivity and inability to focus on occasion.
Corpus Upon consumption of the Ambrosia drug, the Corpus' muscular structure is altered, allowing for the ability to freely manipulate the existing mass in one's body to preform superhuman feats. It allows the Corpus to manipulate the volume, and density of said mass and redistribute it. The drawback is chronic muscle atrophy that require constant maintainance.
Aria Upon consumption of the Ambrosia drug, one's blood-stream would be altered, allowing the Aria to consume various toxic substances and turn their blood into a deadly toxin(depending on the substance itself.) It also allows for a limited form of external blood manipulation. The drawback is that the Aria must consume and adapt to said substances(and survive) regularly due to rapid metabolism and acute anemia.

Note: I wondering if I should remove the blood manipulation from the Aria or not.

Author’s Note:
Upvotes and comments go a long way in helping me reach a larger audience <3
First
Inside GB-2
“Huh, that wasn’t there before,” Ron said, pointing to a new hole in the wall – another passageway.
Henry turned to look where Ron pointed. Sure enough, there was a new doorway. It must’ve been a section that opened after they restored the power. “Huh, yeah. Let’s check it out.”
He went through, finding a short hallway past it and another room just beyond. Henry signaled for his team to form up, preparing to breach. As they stepped in, they found themselves in a brightly lit room filled with various types of furniture – empty pedestals, comfortable-looking single couches, and empty desks with opened cabinets.
Henry stepped further into the room, eyeing the oddly arranged furniture. The single couches were lined up in neat rows, all facing the same direction – towards the empty desks. It was like some sort of waiting room, but for what?
“Is it just me, or are these couches set up weird?” Isaac asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind. “I mean, who lines up a bunch of single couches like this?”
“Strange, indeed,” Sera agreed. “They seem arranged as though for spectators, yet naught lies before them to behold.”
Like a movie theater, Henry thought. However, there weren’t any screens or holograms to watch. If there was a clue, it would probably be within the couches themselves.
Dr. Anderson approached one of the desks. “Perhaps this was some sort of office or workspace? The desks and cabinets certainly suggest that.”
Isaac then decided to touch one of the seats, eliciting no reaction. He pushed further, sitting down on one of them. At that point, the couch began to adjust its form to better suit Isaac’s envirosuit, as if able to optimize its comfort for the user. Then, a nozzle slowly stretched up from the seat’s headrest area, stopping just short of Isaac’s neck. “Woah!” Isaac bolted up as the nozzle bonked against his helmet.
“Neural interface, maybe?” Henry wondered. “I think we should leave this to the researchers… unless you wanna volunteer as a lab rat?”
“Hell nah,” Isaac vigorously declined the offer. “Hey, there isn’t anything on my helmet is there?”
Henry dusted off the back of Isaac’s helmet with his glove. “Nope, you’re clear. Just gotta hope it ain’t grey goo.”
He could see the dread and uncertainty through Isaac’s visor. Henry gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, think about it this way: if it really was grey goo, it would’ve gotten to us – or the Spiranids, for that matter – long ago. C’mon, let’s secure the next room.”
With a nod, Isaac fell in line behind Henry as they moved towards the doorway leading to the adjacent room. Peeking inside, it couldn’t be further from the rest of the room’s they had encountered so far; not at all what they could’ve possibly expected inside an ancient, high-tech alien facility. It was expansive, with a layout that reminded Henry of a high-end restaurant. Comfortable booths lined the walls, while tables of varying sizes filled the central space. The furniture looked almost human – perhaps even indistinguishably so.
The room was tinted with a soft, cozy yellow light. The warm and inviting ambiance felt soothing compared to the clinical feel of the previous areas. The lighting, combined with the plush booths and elegant tables, gave Henry a nostalgic impression.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ryan remarked. “Think they got any cheesecakes?”
If it wasn’t for the alien decor and helping of sleek devices scattered around the room, Henry would’ve thought they were back home. Hell, there was even a bar, filled with exotic liquors that could probably fetch millions at an auction – or give them the trip of their lives. Beside it however was something unusual. Where he might’ve expected a path leading to the kitchen, he instead found a wall with a slight, rectangular-shaped recess that was just big enough for a tray.
He glanced at Isaac, who returned a knowing look. “Replicators,” Isaac said.
Henry smirked. “Personally, I’m partial to synthesizer, but to each their own.”
They gathered around the wall, which didn’t seem to respond to their presence. Taps on the wall didn’t seem to do anything, either. Henry considered probing further, but decided against it. “Alright, let’s not take any chances. We’ll make a note of this for the research teams to analyze later. Let’s keep looking around.”
Henry split apart from the others, pairing with Ron as they continued to walk around the room. They soon came across another doorway on the far side of the room, which opened up into a short corridor that led into multiple sets of doors. Each had a symbol on the wall beside the doors – one that depicted the basic figure of a person.
Ron pushed open one of the doors, taking a peek inside. “Looks like even the Gatebuilders needed restrooms.”
Finally! “Alright, let’s take a quick break here. Bring everyone else over.”
Thankfully, the amenities within were easily comparable to those of modern society. The toilet looked like a toilet, and the sink resembled a sink. Even in a space as mundane as this though, the Gatebuilder’s technology was evident: self-cleaning surfaces and enough technology to put a high-quality Japanese bidet toilet to shame. At least, that was just from the look of things. Henry didn’t think now would be the best time to check whether the restroom had ass-washing robots or not.
After a few minutes, Henry regrouped with the rest of the team around a central table in the ‘restaurant’. Dr. Anderson was already present, his archaeological kit opened and a spread of alien items organized on the table.
“Ah, Captain!” Dr. Anderson noticed him approaching. “We found cabinets that weren’t empty. Most of the artifacts appear to be personal effects.” He held up a necklace, emphasizing his point. “Jewelry, memorabilia, and some other artifacts that I – admittedly – can’t quite describe.”
Dr. Anderson pointed his pickup tool at a small disc laid out on a padded mat. “It hasn’t shown any active properties yet. It’s rather peculiar; it seems to be a solid disc. Lightweight, unblemished surface, no visible markings or etchings.”
“Have you tried touching it directly?” Henry asked.
Dr. Anderson frowned, manipulating the claws of his pickup tool. “Well, not directly.” Catching the implications in Henry’s query, he continued, “I’ve checked for radiation, toxins – all clear. While I’d advise against direct contact, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit curious.”
Henry nodded. Yeah, the Doc was probably right, but what was discovery without risk? He reached out and picked it up, rotating it in his hands. As his gloved fingers brushed against the surface, the disc suddenly emitted a soft glow.
Henry flinched slightly, almost dropping the disc in surprised. As he fumbled with it, the disc seemed to respond to his touch. Suddenly, a series of objects materialized on the table, appearing out of thin air.
“Oh, shit!” Ron exclaimed. “It just… spawned a bunch of stuff!”
Henry stared at the new items. Several containers, probably holding some kind of food, were still sealed tight and impossibly effective at insulating its contents. It was crazy to think that the food inside might still be hot after who knows how long.
Next to the containers was a bracelet. Possibly normal, possibly enchanted or integrated with technology they couldn’t hope to understand. There was also a bottle of some bright blue liquid – probably for drinking, but there was no way to be sure until Perdue tested it. And then there was the picture, showing a strikingly human couple, holding each other underneath a gorgeous alien sky. It reminded him of memorabilia people would sometimes keep in their wallets, though why humans were there was a mystery.
The last object the disc spat out was a thin, transparent sheet. Coincidentally, it was about the same size as a smartphone. If he had to guess, it probably had the same function as one, too.
“Incredible,” Dr. Anderson gawked at the items. “The disc must be the Gatebuilders’ version of a wallet, somehow using dimensional storage technology!”
“Akin to the Holding Bags,” Kelmithus noticed. He peered into his own Holding Bag, his expression indicating that he was connecting the dots. “Fascinating!”
Dr. Anderson then inspected the image, his face reflecting the same confusion Henry felt when he first saw it. While they continued to sort through the items, Henry explored the sheet further. The moment he tapped the screen, a holographic interface sprung into existence above it.
What he had initially thought was a simple hologram was something far more advanced, almost indistinguishable from reality itself. Almost instantly, they were surrounded by mountains and valleys, details springing up to form a realistic, three-dimensional map.
It was like a pocket holodeck. The only anchors the projection had were the various icons and pockets of text floating around – and the fact that the hologram was transparent enough for him to see his surroundings and his teammates.
Sera seemed to be the most shocked out of all of them. He couldn’t blame her. The sight was surprising enough for himself, who was even familiar with the concept through sci-fi; how much more alien would it seem to someone from – effectively – the past?
“I’ve not beheld such a spell… ever!” she exclaimed softly, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Hold on…” she continued, pointing to the distant peaks. “Why, yon mountain range! Does it not strike you as familiar?”
“Huh?” Ron squinted at it. “Does it?”
“No, yeah, it does!” Isaac said. “Shit, uh, is that the Ovinne Mountain Range?”
Henry brought up the file for the Ovinne Mountain Range on his visor, comparing it to the hologram. “Huh, yeah, it is. What’s a map of that doing in here, though?”
Dr. Anderson raised his hands in the air and spread them apart, mimicking a zoom. Lucky for them, the alien tech seemed to understand what they were going for. Now up close and in full detail, the Ovinne Mountain Range dominated the room. Somewhere in the mountains, an icon that looked like a pair of glasses sat right on top of a Gatebuilder tower, barely poking out of the mountainside.
Ryan crossed his arms as he scrutinized the hologram. “Is this what, Find My iPhone?”
“Hmm… rather likely,” Dr. Anderson agreed. “This device must be some sort of Locator.”
“Locator, huh?” Having this clue was an incredible breakthrough, but he noticed something else. “And right where the Ovinne Mountain Campaign’s supposedly taking place, at that.”
“Indeed, that you mention it, such alignment is surely noteworthy,” Kelmithus remarked. His voice took on a more excited note, “Be it fate, perhaps?”
Henry smirked. “Hah, you’re sounding a bit like Sera, now. Well, looks like fate’s telling us where to go next. Let’s pack this up and head back.”
They carefully stowed the various artifacts in their holding bags, Henry holding on to the Locator. They made their way back to the locker room where they first entered, everyone excited for the next step in their mission.
Henry stepped through the airlock first, emerging on the other side. As he did so, a faint sound caught his attention. It was distant, muffled, but definitely not a sound that belonged to this facility. He wanted to take off the envirosuit, but it seemed that had to wait.
Ron came through the airlock after him. “Bro, you think –”
Henry held up a hand, stopping him short. He raised his weapon, picking up on the ‘something’s not right’ vibe.
Activating his infrared vision and using the laser mounted on his M7, Henry searched for signs of thermal distortions, just like he’d done back at Duke Vancor’s mansion. Ron did the same. As the rest of the team emerged from the airlock, they quickly caught on to the situation. Without a word, they joined them in securing the room.
After clearing the locker room, Henry signaled to move on to the lab next door. It was just as empty as the locker room, but now the sounds were more audible, definitely coming from the hallway just outside. Instructing his team to hold still, he crept toward the doorway to investigate.
He peeked around the corner, and felt his stomach drop. There, in the main hallway, was a group of soldiers. They were decked out in distinctive black armor and cloaks. They had no identifiable markings or insignia on their armor, but it was obvious – these were Nobians.
Henry pulled back, returning to his team. “Contact outside. At least a dozen Nobians securing the hallway.”
Ron’s expression grew serious. “Shit. Any idea on their entry point?”
Henry positioned himself behind a desk, aiming his weapon at the doorway. “Probably the same way we came in.”
“Main corridor’s the only play, huh?” Ryan said.
The main hallway only had one line of sight, and it just happened to be the only way out. Well, the only one they could reasonably access. The facility probably had other exits or fancy teleporters, but they’d already scoured the area for the former and wouldn’t be able to figure out the latter.
“Dozen hostiles doesn’t seem like a lot,” Isaac pointed out, taking out another Black Hornet from his bag. “We’re still good on ammo, too.”
Ron shook his head. “Dozen? Yeah, a dozen that we can see.”
“Owens is right,” Henry agreed. “We can’t confirm their numbers outright. If I had to guess, it would probably be at least fifty. Manageable, but I’d prefer that to be our last resort.”
“How might we fare with a disturbance?” Sera offered.
Kelmithus gripped his staff. “I might conjure an echo of noise distant hence. It shan’t last, but it can afford us enough time for our escape.”
Kelmithus’ plan seemed like it could work, but only if the Nobians didn’t know they were here. “No,” Henry disagreed. “They’ve seen our MRAPs outside. We’d get surrounded.”
“How about negotiation?” Dr. Anderson suggested, a hopeful note in his voice.
“Negotiation? With the Nobians?” Kelmithus questioned.
They all knew what the Nobians were like. It really did come off as a ridiculous idea, but what if Dr. Anderson was right? The archaeologist defended himself, “I know, I know. However, we have yet to confirm their hostility, and it would not serve us well to initiate hostilities with the Nobians.”
Taking in the silence as contemplation, he continued, “If talks break down, we hold our ground here. It’s not ideal, but we’ll control the engagement area and prevent them from flanking us.”
Henry reviewed the situation again. 12 hostiles, but they should expect the worse, so at least 50 hostiles plus failed negotiations. Holding the only way out, they were likely spread out between the hallway, the cave system, and possibly even the forest outside. Dr. Anderson’s plan was solid, but he had a few minor qualms. In particular, holding the line meant possibly exhausting themselves in a battle of attrition.
“Alright. We’ll open with negotiations. I’m skeptical, but it's worth a shot. Should that fail, we can’t engage in a drawn-out conflict. We’ll disrupt their positions and quickly move to the cave outside.”
“Smoke grenades and flashbangs,” Ryan muttered.
“Affirmative,” Henry said, nodding in agreement. “If we can’t see them, we’ll level the playing field so they can’t see us.”
“Captain,” Kelmithus quickly interjected, “Bid me aid your efforts. I’ve insight enough to create fog. I’ve learned from our encounter with the Sentinel Lindwyrm.”
“You can replicate that heavy fog?” Ron asked.
Kelmithus held up his palm, producing an opaque puff of steam to prove his point. “Indeed so, Lieutenant. Adequately do these envirosuits shield us, that I might harness more extreme temperatures for more effective casting.”
Henry was impressed with how quickly the archmage grasped such a concept. “Good. Yen, get that drone into the cave. We’ll hold for updates.”
Yen nodded, carrying out Henry’s order silently. The drone’s feed directly streamed to their HUDs, and after a few minutes, Isaac looked up. “Done.”
Henry analyzed the data. They had visual confirmation of a dozen Nobians inside the facility itself and a staggering forty outside, both in the cave and around the cave entrance. It was an assumption, but there probably weren’t many cloaked soldiers past the hallway. He sighed; the worst-case scenario would have them facing a hundred men in total.
It was a challenge, but the drone’s intel granted them a critical tactical advantage. He analyzed his minimap, selecting and sharing a route with minimal enemy contact. “After clearing the facility’s entrance, we’ll proceed along the designated path. Upon exit, I’ll deploy a flare to signal our movement to the MRAPs for extraction. We will then rendezvous with Zulu-9 and coordinate with air support before re-engaging to secure the site.”
His team nodded, fully on board with the plan. He took a deep breath to steel himself before checking his watch – 16:24. “Alright, time to show ourselves.”
Letting his M7 sling over his chest, Henry prepared two flash grenades – one in each hand – before stepping out. With his team in tow, he moved to the center of the hallway, catching the attention of one of the Nobian patrols.
“Attention, Nobian forces! We request parley. I am Captain Donnager of Alpha Team, Tier 6 Adventurer. We are on an official quest sanctioned by the Adventurer’s Guild. We have no intention of hostilities and seek to discuss our presence and objectives to ensure mutual understanding.”
As Henry’s words echoed through the hallway, the Nobian soldiers snapped into action. He heard the sounds of bowstring being drawn taut and the rasp of metal as swords cleared their scabbards. His hands tightened around the flash grenades.
He kept his gaze steady, projecting a sense of calm; of confidence – enough to convince the Nobians that even outnumbered, he and his team were still no match for them. More soldiers joined the patrol, until all twelve of the previously identified Nobians were upon them. They kept their distance, but Henry could feel the tension boiling.
Just as the standoff seemed to reach a critical point, the air in front of them seemed to fold outward from itself, like watching the effects of gravitational lensing on light. A figure coalesced from the distortion – so this is what invisibility magic looked like.
The man was broad-shouldered and tall, seeing eye-to-eye with him, even despite the extra inches in height the envirosuit gave. As the last wisps of the cloaking magic faded away, Henry found himself staring into a pair of piercing gray eyes that seemed to bore into his very soul.
The newcomer had an angular face and was clad in black armor with a different sheen than the black armor of his comrades. Silver trimmings and an insignia emblazoned on his chestplate – a dagger through a swirl of mist – differentiated his status. A cloak of the same dark hue billowed behind him as he walked forward and drew his sword.
Keeping his sword to the side, he stopped a respectable ten meters away from Henry. “I am Carvus Alnect Virelius, Umber Vicearch of the Order of the Shadow.” He then pointed his sword at Henry, declaring, “Of desecrating sovereign Nobian territory, you stand accused.”
As Carvus spoke, more soldiers materialized alongside him, shimmering into existence as they dropped their cloaking spells. Henry had expected this to happen, but seeing it play out still sent a chill down his spine. How many more were still lying in wait?
The Vicearch kept his weapon on Henry, eyes narrowing. “Commander unto commander, I offer a choice: cede your Holding Bags, that secure passage may be granted unto you. Refuse, and you shall be declared as spies and enemies of the Nobian Empire, your lives forfeit to swift execution.”
READ 2 WEEKS AHEAD: Season Finale Chapter 17 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!
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Next

The next day finds the military part of the Bridger family waiting in one of the larger cargo bays. Paladin company and Shark Platoon are on hand, all in full power armor except for Makula, with the exception of Jaruna who's standing next to Jerry in a family uniform with her shotgun and sword slung over her back. Jerry had also elected for a dress uniform today, though he'd paired it with a 'ceremonial' curaiss that could still take a hit from a plasma cannon or two... and concealed a small shield generator. Mixed with his cloak and the Crimsonhewer war ax on his belt, Jerry thought he looked every bit the barbarian warlord... if a bit too clean cut for a Hollywood depiction of such.
The situation reminded Jerry of a similar reception back on Serbow... but this one was a bit less ceremonial and a bit more... dynamic. They didn't have any formal bonds with Clan Karchara, or their Khan, Komugai. So as a meeting of two new to each other factions, things could get... exciting. Which considering they were talking about Cannidor meant that things could potentially get very violent, very quickly.
They usually didn't. Not any more. Yet... it never helped to play it safe, even with a clan that had a decent reputation like the Karchara. More cut throat clans had been heard to disguise themselves for meetings like this for meetings so they could ambush their targets after all. Plus as always, there was tradition to observe and satisfy. Tradition which could be best summarized as 'Offer one hand, but arm the other.'. The Cannidor were ready to fight a war naked among any people but their own. They were beyond dangerous. So an armed society wasn't so much a polite society as the unarmed were likely mentally infirm, and to be politely left to their own devices.
A sharp whistle from the 1MC draws Jerry from his thoughts.
"Now hear this! The Clan Karchara envoy is arriving!"
The Karchara drop ship slides into view out of the black and makes it's way towards the docking day with all the leisurely grace of a terrestrial shark swimming towards a coral reef. Whoever's piloting it is clearly a hot hand on the stick because the ship moves as smooth as anything Jerry had ever seen out of Cruel Space, extending it's landing gear and coming to a halt with nary a hint of a bounce in it's suspension and shock absorbing gear.
"Hmmm. The Karchara..." Jaruna rumbles. "An interesting contact in Cannidor space to be sure. So to recap what we talked about, they're somewhat on and off again allies of my old clan. Decent types for the most part. No idea who the Khan is now, and a little searching online didn't turn anything up. Don't think the intelligence weasels had anything either. Save that they've been having some internal structural changes. Seized a new planet too, lighting raid, unconventional tactics, whatever that means. Gives them complete control of... ten decently populated and industrialized star systems I think. They're firmly in the middle of the power band for the Khans by that measurement, exact position depends on the number of warriors under arms they can bring to the Golden Khan's muster."
"Right. Well. Guess we'll have to see what Khan Karchara wants to chat about, and hear about this plan of hers."
The Karchara drop ship settles onto it's landing gear, and it's flight crew leaves the engines running. Tradition. You never knew if a reception was actually friendly after all, and it was also a mark of respect for the hosts. You might be asked to fuck off after all.
The forward assault ramp drops, and the honor guard warriors of the Khan march out, in power armor, but with their helmets off, fanning out to cover their leader. The lack of helmets was very much a declaration of intent, the human equivalent of open palms for a Cannidor in power armor.
Jaruna's brow instantly furrows as she scans the faces of the honor guard.
"...Wait. I know some of those girls. One of my aunts, Norkath is there on the left, and that's... but that."
Jerry can hear Jaruna's brain crunching that information.
"...Komugai. You said the Khan's name was Komugai? Not Jelvuna?"
"Definently Komugai."
"...Unless she changed her name... but then would Aunt Norkath join the Karchara proper without her...?"
Jaruna mutters to herself, clearly trying to puzzle whatever's eating at her out, when the sound of heavy boots on the assault ramp sound, and an utterly massive Cannidor woman starts to come into view. She cuts an imposing presence. Her uniform not too far off from Jerry's, a mix of barbarian warlord and modern dress uniform. The massive war ax over her shoulder tipping the scales on the barbarian - modern officer scale towards barbarian. It was easy to miss her other various weapons in the sheer scale of her. Her stark white fur, the three brutal scars across her muzzle, and another two over her left eye, which had a cybernetic replacement.
Khan Karchara stands for a moment, surveying the room silently... and before anyone can say anything, Jaruna breaks the silence;
"...Mom?"
Khan Karchara cuts loose with a booming laugh that reminds Jerry of Khan Isuras, and if this is indeed Jaruna's mother, he can immediately see exactly why the two women cut palms and swore sisterhood. He wouldn't be hard pressed to believe they were actual sisters.
"Heh. Glad to see all that time on Centris hasn't dulled your powers of observation! Always said you were a sharp one."
There's no sarcasm there, a little maternal teasing perhaps, but she's not mocking Jaruna. Anyone with eyes can tell Khan Karchara is damn proud of her child.
"And this'd be my son in law... bit small but hell just from your first date with my little girl I know you're a first class head kicker, plus you already gave me four grandbabies to spoil! Hahah. I suppose these bigguns here are the older girls? I... say. I thought there was three of you."
Karchara points at Makula.
"You're a bit old to be Hippolyta considering she was born a couple weeks ago. Who are you, girl?"
"Makula Sa'Bridger, I was adopted a few days ago. Honored Matron."
Karchara grins, her numerous teeth gleaming in the light of the hangar.
"Matron? Not Khan?"
"You are my mother's mother, standing in my family's clan hold. To refer to your title by right of blood is most appropriate."
Another bark of laughter.
"Well drilled and whip smart I see. You know the ways of our kind well, granddaughter." Karchara smirks, looking smug before turning to her honor guard.
"See girls? Five now! Haha! What a stud of a bull!"
Khan Karchara turns back to Jerry and Jaruna.
"Ah but I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's get the formal bit done so we can go jaw a bit and then hopefully I can visit with my eldest daughter, my son in law and these fine young ladies."
She quickly shifts her body a bit, drawing herself up to her full, imposing twelve foot height.
"I am Komugai, Khan of Karchara. I come to broker peace and fellowship between our clans, to join them in a bond of steel that will stand the sword storm for all time."
Jerry nods slowly. More than they'd expected actually. That was laying out intent to conduct some very, very serious negotiations.
"I, Jeremiah, Khan of Bridger, Admiral of this fleet, lord of these proud warriors before you, bid you welcome, Komugai of Karchara, bring your banner among ours, that they might rest together while we discuss the business of peace, and of wars yet to come."
"Well spoken indeed... and the steel in your eyes." Komugai nods slowly. "Yes, I see what you see in him, Jaruna, well past his considerable combat skills. All the better my dear son-in-law that you have already begun working on my grand design... but come, let us dismiss our warriors that they might go and eat, drink and enjoy themselves. We need only you, Jaruna, and perhaps my granddaughters for this business, so that they might learn the ways of leadership."
"I think we can accommodate that." Jerry says before turning and pulling the ax off of his belt and raising it high, an ancient Cannidor signal for attention from the leader of a warband to their warriors.
"Warriors, we walk with friends, show them to the promenade, that they might share our table while we discuss business."
Jerry and Jaruna guide Komugai to the conference room they'd prepared, while Joan and the girls quickly hustle to get their armor stowed and get their tails to the same spot. None of them wanted to miss a minute of this!
Still, the tension in the room's fairly heavy when the door closes, and Jaruna turns on her mother.
"Alright. We got a couple minutes till the girls get up here. What the hell, mom? You changed your name? Took over the Karchara? What the heck is going on?"
Komugai settles herself in a Cannidor scale chair, grinning all the while.
"You should be happier, daughter. This was inspired by you after all. When you left our band. Left the old clan... I knew you were right. We won't speak of that business, but we were obligated... and I should have been brave enough to refuse, but I lacked the standing... and perhaps the courage. So I did what any good Khan worth her blades would do and crammed it down their throats. Broke that clan, took them in, then subsumed the Karchara with my new band. They've got the older name, so I became Khan Karchara instead of remaining Khan Jormuntide. Your Aunt's got the title now. I'd offer it to you, but you've got your own clan now."
"So Jormuntide remains at least." Jaruna shuts her eyes for a second and lets out a slow breath. "You really did all this because of my idealistic and childish temper tantrum nearly a century ago?"
"Hardly childish. Idealistic? Absolutely. There's something to be said for actually trying to live up to our own ideals though. Especially as warriors. However, that is personal business, and we have business to discuss for the Undaunted first."
Komugai turns to face Jerry square on.
"Admiral Bridger, I'm prepared to offer two things to the Undaunted. One. I want to ally myself and my clan formally with the Undaunted. Second, I prepared to gift an entire star system to the same from my holdings. It is populated, but sparsely across three habitable worlds. Ripe for ongoing colonization and industrialization. To keep things fair, people within my clans will be given a chance to move to or from as they please if for some reason they don't wish for Undaunted citizenship. The Undaunted will then have the standing to select a Khan for your Cannidor population, both in Cannidor space, and Undaunted wide. A non voting position at first, but as the clan grows you will achieve that status quickly I believe."
Jerry stops dead. "...Did you just offer us a star system with three habitable worlds?"
"Yes."
"...Okay, I'm on board, but why?"
"Simply put, the worlds are marginal. They need investment. They need settlers. You need worlds. A strong alliance with humanity... and being the first Cannidor clan to extend that hand formally, even having your realm within my space... only benefits me. As I grow my own territory I might even cede another system to the Undaunted. If the Undaunted Khan helps me in those battles I damn sure will." Komugai chuckles. "We'll see how many Khans are stupid enough to try to fight me in the next few decades of course. The other thing I'm trading on is Undaunted naval power. As you just learned, we don't really do navies. I want a professional navy, the Undaunted have agreed to help me get it... and help secure my space once we secure them my end of the bargain, that, Admiral, is where you come in."
Jerry arches an eyebrow and gestures for Komugai to continue.
"Simply put, you need to do what you just did with that border bandit Khan Irgalas, but across Cannidor space. This isn't a done deal. It's up to the Grand Council and I'm but one vote. You already have an in with some of the other Khans, and the Undaunted are doing business with Cannid Solutions. That's an excellent start, and you just made a stellar formal introduction of yourself to Cannidor space. A flawless orbital and ground fight like that'll make sure word gets around that the Undaunted are here... and as dangerous as their rep says they are. I got a little list of the other movers and shakers you need to press the flesh with to win over key parts of the council. You make the rounds, and I'll be doing the same on my end. We meet on Canis Prime for the council meeting, and then we either have a huge brawl to make our point or toast victory with some top quality booze."
"You make it sound pretty simple." Jerry says, clearly not believing there's all there is to it.
Komugai shrugs. "It is simple in its concept. Pressing the flesh and winning the various Khans over won't be. They'll all have their little tests and challenges for you to get the measure of both humans and the Undaunted. We've seen a lot on the trivid as a species. A lot of us have heard stuff in the news or from kin. This is your chance to just straight up show people who you are and what you're about. Because now you're here, and therefore 'real'. If that makes any sense. Cannidor don't really care much about shit happening on the other half of the galactic disk. Undaunted, Humans, being here? Now? Now people will really start paying attention besides idly seeing if there's some interesting amateur porn or more combat footage available."
The Khan points over at Joan, Boudicca, Khutulun and Makula. "These four will likely be very critical to the warrior house's opinion of you... your next generation of warriors, your daughters. How are they treated? How are they trained? What's their mettle like? If they're strong, and worthy, you will impress the khans in a very good way. If my granddaughters are found wanting, they'd question a great many things... and could cause trouble when the Grand Council meets to discuss my little proposal, among other orders of business."
Jerry looks over at Joan and the girls, all four of them are suddenly looking very tense, especially Makula. "I have every confidence in all of my daughters to deal with anything the Khans can throw at them. Even Hippolyta if a trial suited for an infant is on hand."
That gets a chuckle from the girls, relaxing them a hair.
"Still. We'll burn that bridge when we get there. No sense borrowing trouble that hasn't come yet."
Komugai nods. "Wise words. Your diplomats have already approved this plan on their end, they'll send you the itinerary and all the fussy details shortly. Unless you have other questions for me?"
"I've heard there's a grand council of patriarchs too. Would getting in good with them help?"
That gets a full on shrug from the massive warrior woman. "Yes? I mean. Probably. No good way to arrange that though beyond asking my hubby, and I have. He said their council will handle things if it's deemed appropriate, and I don't need to fuss about it too much, and I know a polite way to be asked to fuck off when I hear one... so keep your head on a swivel on that one Jerry, I'm sure the patriarchs are well aware of the Undaunted... and are looking at a possible way to make warriors out of their sons without making their wives piss their frilly panties."
The khan's brilliant white teeth glitter in the room. "Back when we were the more traditional kind of savages back on our homeworld, the bulls did a lot of the leading and the fighting on an individual basis. Women however have always fought the wars. As we grew as a species, developed power armor, space travel, had our population bloom, a bull fighting another in single combat became less practical, and the other traditional male roles of shaman, guide, and brain trust came to the forefront. The council of patriarchs is an old body Jerry. Pre space flight. One of our first forms of international diplomacy between the khans. The matriarchs hold all the power... but when the council of patriarchs speaks, people know to shut up and pay attention."
Jerry nods slowly. Seemed like he'd just have to wait and see... and make sure he made a good impression when the opportunity presented itself.
"Well. I think that concludes everything we need to talk about professionally. Unless you have something else Khan Karchara?"
"Aww, just call me Mama like my big fuzz ball over here used to when we're not working! I've heard a bit about this little fortress of yours, could you all give me the tour? I'd like a chance to talk to all my new granddaughters after all."
Jerry shrugs. "Sure, we'll head up to the Den for a bit, then head down to the promenade to join the girls for some drinks and skewers. Our Cannidor eatery's got the best skewers in wild space whenever we're there."
"Don't I believe it, get to try some more Earth meats too! Bought a little sampler pack from a friend and good goddess, if you start exporting that bacon stuff in bulk, I'm going to invest in a chain of gyms, because there's going to be a lot of girls fighting to keep their girlish figures!"
First Last (SFW) Last (NSFW)

In many other systems and frameworks, the database schema is the reference. The migrations are generally programmatically derived and tested, but they are the second-class citizens. This makes database structure auditing and modification really easy, as there is one canonical source for the schema, and it eases deep code reviews.
The Go ecosystem seems to prefer composition by migration files; you may start with a schema-of-record, but any subsequent changes are made in successive, generally dated, SQL scripts. Which does provide a track record of how you got there (although git does also), but obfuscates the true (current) structure especially for human inspection. To get a functional DB, you "migrate" up from the first one through the rest. This is unlike Go source code or IaC such as Terraform, which are more declarative - here's what I want, figure out how to get me there. (In source code, it's a simple replace, but still...)
Are there any common database definition processes for Go that are declarative rather than compositional?

I have a John Deere L110 mower with a Kohler Command engine.
Currently, the engine is behaving oddly, and I feel like I’ve run through all of the DIY that I know well. Which means I’m branching off into the unknown, so I could use some advice before I start tearing things apart.
What’s happening: The engine clicks and starts to crank. If the mower has sat for a while, it will generally spin 1-2 times and then lock up. If you try to turn it over again, it will crank less. By about the fourth successive attempt to start, it will completely freeze up and appear seized. Given enough time, though, it will always crank 1-2 revolutions on the first try.
What I’ve done: The obvious things like oil and gas, first. Then, the electrical system (this is where I feel comfortable). Starter solenoid and motor taken off and tested, and all wiring checked, spark plug replaced. I feel confident that everything here is working properly. I can turn the engine over by hand, but there is a ton of resistance every turn or so, though it doesn’t seem to be happening at the same location each time. A few of the things I’ve read have suggested trying to fuel shutoff solenoid, but that seems fine. Notably, though, no fuel leaked out when taking this off to check it — I rather expected that it would?
So, that’s where I’m at. Any advice on next steps are appreciated.

Mainly I'm looking for ideas from books or other sources, though I don't think that combat-magic would fit with my setting.
The plot so far is that two young men are wandering around, learning about the world, and maybe there's a purpose to it that MC doesn't know about. My current focus for the magic is the mage that's traveling with my MC; he's still young, and I want to have him limited in how much and what sort of magic he can do. There are a lot of "barely can do anything" mages, a good number of mages at around his level or a bit better, and it's rare to have a mage that can solve a bunch of problems with magic instead of mundane means.
This is what I think the system is like sofar, but I'm open for tweaking things to let the magic feel a bit more magical/useful instead of a type of science we don't have access to.
In this setting I want to make it so that for most people, trying to learn magic wouldn't be worth it even if they knew they wouldn't wash out of training. Sort of "you trained for ten years so you could light something on fire with magic instead of carrying a Zippo? You still need a piece of jewelry or that special ink." (An exaggeration, but mages do need to keep trying to find new spells as technology supplants them. Someone who could light a fire could do a lot of other things with access to the right spells.) Being able to cast magic without a spell diagram is freakishly rare.
A mage could either train for energy-capacity, knowledge, or a balance of both. A journeyman in energy-capacity with low-knowledge could activate only prepared spells. (A bit like how in Legend of Korra, they had lightning-benders channeling into the power-grid.) I don't want untrained mundanes to be able to activate magical objects, but I want it to be rare for people to be completely unable to train in magic. I'm thinking that "enchantments" where the spell runs on its own doesn't happen, but possibly an artificially-imposed limit; having an artifact gather additional magic so a caster only has to channel a small amount of the spell's required energy might be possible.
Sofar my ideas are:

• energy-conversion: The aether is a source of limitless magical energy, the limit is in how much the mage can channel. They could move heat into or out of an object or area, or turn aether energy into light. They haven't figured out how to really control electricity, and converting any energy into movement requires a bit more advancement in science. (Steam-engines are new.)
• element manipulation: limited to the atomic level, they could turn water into flammable gas but not lead into gold. Maybe someone could turn a rock into sand and then reform it into a quartz crystal, but that should be hard.
• teleportation magic: I'm still trying to figure out how it works, but it takes training to open an existing gate and only a master in both energy-capacity and knowledge could create a new one. (Basically make gate-travel expensive enough that most goods are still moved by barge.) Related would be some sort of magical cellphone that I'm still deciding how hard it is to use, and the possibility of having portable access to a dimensional pocket like a bag of holding. (I want creation of these things to be very expensive to keep them rare.)
• illusion magic: I'm thinking that being able to shape light requires specialized mental training to hone their ability to visualize what they want. A blank surface or an image baked into the spell-diagram is easier.
• Healing should be obscenely difficult to do, as in very few people have the training to not make things worse.

What I think I don't want:

• I don't want magic that directly affects thoughts, manipulates time, or see into unknown locations.
• I don't want resurrection to be possible. Trapping or releasing souls should be complicated so killing someone is easier to do with mundane methods.
• I don't want to create the illusion of sentience or animate something that should not be able to move on its own. (An artifact that looks like it could play chess is some sort of mechanical turk contraption and might need more advanced technology to be puppeted remotely with magic. At that point technology might just be a few years away from radio-control.)
• I don't think I want to make things fly unless science says it can fly.