I recently lead my first writer's room as a head writer! I've been working on a personal project for a while and when we finally got backed and financed, it was crazy! I don't have enough experience to be a showrunner, so we hired someone else. However, being in a writer's room and not just a PA was mind blowing. It kinda felt like knowing how to swim, but now it's my first time in the deep end. I'm sure there are more experienced people on this subreddit with better advice, but I just want to talk about what I learned.
Context: Even though I can't say which show it is right now, I can say that it is for cable and is a 13 episode, half-hour drama. Including myself, there were seven writers.

1: Don't be afraid to redo the pilot!

• They say "writing is rewriting" and this couldn't have been more true for me. Once we actually sat down and talked about what we wanted the season to look like, the pilot had to be rewritten. The pilot I wrote had won a screenwriting competition and has got many glowing reviews. However, I'd be lying if I said I put as much thought into the other episodes as I did the pilot, simply because I didn't want to waste all that effort on a show that might not even get made.

My showrunner really showed his experience by pointing out the flaws in the pilot, not based on the telling of the story in the pilot, but the pay offs we wanted to happen later in the series.

2: Confidence, confidence, confidence!

• This wasn't my first pilot that has been picked up, but it was the first that had actually been put into pre-production instead of just being optioned again or being bought to collect dust in development hell. I was the least experienced in the room and it really made me nervous. People who had some serious skill were asking me questions about my story that I genuinely never thought about before. After our first session, I honestly thought I shouldn't even be in there.

I talked about it with one of my producers and she encouraged me to just do the best I can. After all, you can't really be wrong or mess up something that doesn't really exist yet. The writer's room was really a place for everyone to just figure out what was going on and the first season is always full of experimentation. As my confidence grew, I was able to talk about my characters and core themes with a lot more depth, like I had when I was talking to myself. This made everything way easier to write and had I just had the confidence from the beginning, I feel like we wouldn't have started off so slow.

3: Lean on everyone's specialty.

• I always knew writers had preferences in genres and writing pillars like dialogue or structure. What I didn't expect was how rewarding it would be to have someone prop up your weaknesses with their skills. I usually write alone, so having people help fill in for my weaknesses was great! Leaning into what everyone else does best kept things going at a good pace.

4: Try new stuff till it sticks.

• I had ideas for the show that flat out did not work. Looking at the overall season, some of the episodes we wanted to do, didn't actually add up to the type of emotional pay offs we wanted. Out of the 13, only 5 (including the pilot) of my original episode ideas actually stayed. We came up with a bunch of stuff that was great, but didn't really fit. In the end, some of our random ideas worked better than ones were were sure of.

Even after we got everything off of index cards, sat down and wrote the scripts, there were holes and weaknesses in the season that wasn't as obvious before. Always looking at the big picture and the pay offs we wanted was key. Don't be afraid to try something new if you think it can improve the script or season, no matter what stage.

5: Communication

• When we were ready to start typing, there were some people who wanted to write certain episodes and others who didn't care which. However, we found out that everyone has an episode they really want to do and some people just didn't speak up about it. My showrunner talked with everyone together and individually to make sure people were not only writing for the show, but writing something they really wanted to sink their teeth into.

Other times when people were "too quiet", he made sure to make those writers give opinions on the topic at hand. Sometimes they had ideas they thought were stupid, but actually were really great.

6: Be friends

• Yeah, you can't be friends with everyone. It's true. Even so, our writer's room really felt like it kicked into high gear as we all got to know each other. We talked about what inspires us, what we do outside of writing and how our lives were going in general. It made it feel less like a job and more like the discussion you would have with your friends at a bar after seeing a movie. Awesome feeling. We even attended one of my writer's birthday party were he proposed to his long time girlfriend. After that, writing felt like butter. It's way easier to debate and fix things with people you get along with. I can't imaging being in a room with someone for that long for months with people I don't like or don't know well.

7: Check the ego at the door

• This is something my producer told me and something my showrunner said up front. We all are going to be wrong sometimes. If something needs defending, defend it, but not to the point to where it may cause a problem. Honestly, I couldn't have written this season this well on my own. Teamwork made the dream work.

We are scheduled to start shooting the pilot later this year, so I can't wait to see what happens next. It's far from over and there's a lot that still needs to happen before it even goes to screening, so I hope everything works out! If you have had any experiences in writer's rooms or advice, I'd love to hear it! I just thought I'd share this. Happy writing!

Greetings, I have just found this sub. It’s great that other people know about this, I’ve been in a lonesome rabbit hole with chatGPT on this subject
I plan to scan my farm (1/2 acre) around sunrise and sunset everyday, weather permitting, this season. My intention is to use the dataset for AI training, for predictive modeling (not that I know how to make that yet). But I know I need some very high resolution, as I want to be able to keep track of individual plant’s development (even the weeds).
So I need something that can run a pre programmed flight. Is reasonably reliable (though I’m of the belief; two cheap machines are more reliable than one good one). I can’t afford the highest quality camera, but more pictures can make up, kinda… right? The DJI mini 3 pro seems like it could work for me, but I’m not sure. And I don’t know which other models and brands are worth considering.
Thanks for reading, I’d love to hear your thoughts or answer your question

Like everyone else I'm replaying , probably 3 or 4 years since my last run.
Still love it for all the same reasons, even messed around with logic gates for the first time....buuttt what really struck me this time is the lack of toilet shenanigans.
It has been drummed into me by every 90s 00s game to check every toilet (restroom ?). It's where the designers can have a giggle: guard struggling with diarrhea, glory holes, random graffiti, pentagram with teddy bear satanic worship etc etc basically stuff that makes you go "wtf happend here"
This play through of 60 hours or so I have checked every toilet stall and the best I've found is nuka cola in bowl and a stall with 8 plungers stuck to the wall

What am I doing? Dominick Mason asked himself for the hundredth time that night. It was late on a rainy Sunday evening and Dom, a tall, lanky man-boy of twenty-five with a prominent Adam’s apple and too big eyes, stared out the rain-slicked window of the 905. The big bus swayed and jostled as it lumbered down Central Avenue, the movements strangely comforting, conducive to reflection…and self-doubt.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed, and a pit opened up in his stomach. He fumbled it out with long fingers and read the text. Are u almost here
His thumb hovered over the screen, but he did not reply. Part of him wanted to block the number, slink back home with his tail between his legs, and forget the whole thing. He could boot up his PS4 and play Red Dead Redemption or GTA V like always. Safe. Familiar. The thought, however, stirred a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
It was dread.
Every night, he did the same thing. He came home from work to his tiny prison cell apartment. He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He played video games until it was time to go to bed. The worst part of the whole night was when he turned off the TV and saw his murky reflection in the screen. Plaid. Scrawny. Disgusting. He hated being locked in that apartment, with its old smells and white walls, but he hated going out even more. At least in his hole, he was safe, like a mouse. No one hurt or lied to him there. No one gave him funny looks. No one rejected him. He was completely safe in his solitude, a wounded animal hiding in its den and licking its wounds.
He was wounded and he knew it.
And he hated himself for it. Hated that he wasn’t stronger or better. Hated that even though he tried so hard, everything he did fell apart…if it even came together in the first place, which it rarely did.
The phone buzzed again.
Just a question mark this time.
His heart began to race and a steely fist slowly closed around his lungs. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a deep breath. He pictured himself alone in his little apartment. He loved the image, but he hated it too. Most nights, he didn’t mind being alone. He had to not mind it, because he didn’t have a choice. Some nights…some nights he didn’t want to be alone. Some nights he wanted warmth, he wanted tenderness…some nights, he wanted to be human.
Every so often, Dom would get the urge to find those things. They came less frequently than they did before, but unfortunately, they still came. He would create an account on Plenty of Fish and OKCupid, maybe some of the other sites as well. He would agonize over his stupid intro and his stupid list of hobbies. He would spend hours - literally hours - writing and rewriting them, trying at first to be serious, then light and funny, then cool, then aloof, then vulnerable. He would take the best possible pictures from the best possible angles, then upload them, never lingering over them because he hated the way he looked. He didn’t think he was ugly - mid was more like it - but apparently, he was ugly. Too ugly for love, too ugly even to talk to.
The ugly barnacle. So ugly that everyone died. The end.
All of Dom’s pictures were all selfies, of course. Guys he listened to on YouTube said he needed action shots, shots with friends, shots that showed women he had a life, was valued by those around him, and knew how to have fun. Too bad for him, he had no friends and no one valued him, not even his own mother. On the surface, maybe, but she had hurt him so many times over the years in so many ways that even the most devout son would stop and think.
It had to be selfies.
When his profile was in order - or as much in order as he could get it - he would start to browse. Dom knew his place and never messaged women who were too beautiful. He used to, but they never responded. He eventually began to skip their profiles with a pang of loss and a quiet what if? Now, he barely noticed them. Blonde. Petite. Blue eyes. Maybe she was a cheerleader at one time, maybe she was the type of girl who looked down her nose at guys like him. Maybe she was a sweetheart. In any case, he would never find out, so who cares?
He went for women he could realistically obtain…the type of women he’d dated and hooked up with in the past. Some were attractive in their own way, others were hard to look at, he wasn’t picky; he couldn’t afford to be picky. One woman he saw was a good three hundred pounds. She was nice and he liked her enough, but he lapsed into depression while they were dating and he never messaged her back…not that she made a huge effort to message him. Another was a pre-K teacher in her mid-thirties. Overweight with a big nose, glasses, and a plain face when she wasn’t wearing make-up. He liked her a lot and wanted to be with her, but after a month of weekend hookups, she said she didn’t love him. She told him she wanted a family - three kids, to be exact - but “changed her mind.” No, she didn’t. She just didn’t want those things with him.
Now she was in her late thirties, single, and having regrets.
She still wouldn’t settle for him, though.
Another woman he’d seen recently (six months ago) was fifty, but not unattractive. They texted for weeks, hot and heavy. She outright told him that she wanted to have sex with him. Said all sorts of nasty and sexual things. Their first (and only date) was her coming to his apartment. Instead of tender kisses, loving caresses, and intense emotions, they shared an awkward two hours on his couch. When he tried to hold her hand and put his arm around her, she stiffened. Not much, just a little. She said she “wasn’t ready.” He sat there and watched the flowers he’d gotten her wilt as she talked about her ex for an hour and a half, his arms pointedly crossed. He even leaned as far away from her as humanly possible, trying to communicate with his body language what he didn’t have the guts to communicate with his words: I’m uncomfortable, please leave. He planned to take her to a nice restaurant after they made love. Instead, he ordered something after she finally got the hint and left, eating alone like always.
After her, he deleted his profile (again) and resolved to never bother with dating again. Obviously there was something wrong with him. He saw guys who were uglier and more awkward than him with girlfriends, some actually stunning, but there was something about him in particular, something that repelled women…and men too.
Everyone.
It repelled everyone.
Maybe it was his self-loathing. After all, no one likes a sad sack. But that’s the thing: He was like this because of those experiences. It was a what came first, the chicken or the egg situation. Looking back, he had almost normal confidence at one point. Then all of this happened. The hundreds of messages he sent on the dating apps staying on read, unanswered, like he never sent them at all, like he was garbage unworthy of even a hello. The awkward dates. The occasional “success” that eventually fell apart…sometimes because of him, and sometimes because of them. The one girl who ran away from him when he tried to walk her to her car after a date. They didn’t click, he knew that, but he didn’t say or do anything creepy. Why did she do that? The girls who lead him on, talking about sex and sometimes even love but always had a reason they couldn’t meet.
There were other examples - many others - but it was all the same. Who cared?
Dom wanted to crawl back into his hole and stay there, to stop poking his head out and getting hurt. He wanted it so bad…but he was only human. Deep down, buried beneath layer after layer of scar tissue, there was still hope. Hope for love, for companionship, for acceptance, for intimacy and human touch. It was only an ember now, but even an ember is enough to spark a fire.
Some nights, he wanted to be safe. Other nights, he wanted to take a risk.
And this night was one of the latter.
Be there soon, he texted. He swallowed hard and wetted his lips. His heart was pounding faster and his bowels were loose. He really hoped this worked out. He didn’t think he could handle another rejection. If she turned him down, he’d probably go home and kill himself. Why go on like this?
He’d had that thought before…but he never followed through.
Maybe one day he’d actually shut the fuck up and do it already.
Maybe.
Ok :)
Her name was Heather and she was fat. She was not unattractive in the face and she wore her weight well, not that that mattered - he would take what he could get. They started talking on OKCupid last week and very soon, the conversation became sexual. He didn’t start it, though, she did. She was ahem very excited, she said. He liked to think that she was lonely, desperate, and wanted intimacy - any intimacy - just like him.
That really turned him on.
They agreed to meet, and now here he was, on the bus to her apartment on the other side of the city, hoping against hope that she didn’t hurt him too.
He put the phone away and stared straight ahead. The bus was nearly deserted, save for an old bag lady up front and a few Mexican guys in the back. Lights lined the bus’s roof, providing a cold, impersonal light. Dom took a deep breath and forced his dark emotions away. It was all on him to make this work. He would accept her fat, ugly, poor, and crippled, but he had to work to earn her love. He could do it.
When the bus finally reached his stop, he yanked the cord and got off. There was a plexiglass shelter lit by a single, lonely bulb. Trash littered the ground. Beyond the shelter, a park lay in darkness. Behind him, on the other side of the road, a housing project not unlike his own towered into the sky, lit up like a ship at sail. Dom swallowed his nerves and crossed the street. He found the door that she had directed him to use, and climbed the stairs. He expected trash, graffiti, and winos passed out on every landing. Instead, the stairwell was clean and deserted. His nerves welled as he climbed but he forced them down again. On the ninth floor, he went down the hall, battered on all sides by the stale smells of cooking and the murmur of TVs and voices coming from every apartment.
Dom paused at Apartment 237.
Heather’s.
You got this, he told himself.
And really, he did. Their plan - well, Heather’s, really - was simple and straightforward. She told him that she would leave the door unlocked. He was to come in, go to the bedroom, and she would be waiting for him. She said it was a fantasy of hers.
On some level, he knew all along that the whole setup sounded fishy. Was he being set up to get robbed? Would he walk in and get jumped by a bunch of Crips? He hesitated, but his need for love - and, yes, release - pushed him on.
He opened the door.
Inside, the apartment was small and messy, a living room to the right and a tiny kitchen to the left. The only light on was the one above the stove.
Everything else was in shadows.
Dom’s heart skipped a beat.
This didn’t feel right.
That thought was overpowered by the smell, a sickly sweet odor that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. His stomach twisted and he turned his head slightly to one side, as if to spare his nose. It smelled like something spoiled.
A voice spoke from the darkness, startling him. “I’m in here.”
It was light, airy, and cute.
For the last time, Dom hesitated. Some primal sense told him to turn around and leave…
…but he wanted to be loved.
Dom entered and shut the door behind him.
The smell was stronger. The atmosphere darker.
Ahead, he could barely make out an open doorway in the shadows.
He crossed to it.
The smell was overpowering here and Dom felt like he was going to puke. Any desire he had felt was gone, replaced only by revulsion and claustrophobia. It was cold, he realized, so cold that his teeth chattered.
Okay, fuck this.
He started to turn around, intent on leaving, but a small, white hand reached from the darkness. Icy fingertips brushed his cheek and his heart blasted into his throat.
Then she was there, her body pressing against his and her lips fused with his. The smell, the freezer chill, both stronger than ever.
They were both coming from her.
Her tongue hungrily lashed his own, and she pushed him against the wall. Her hands slipped under his shirt and pressed flat against his chest. They were so cold that he almost cried out.
Dom wanted to push her away, to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he froze up and allowed her to push him onto the bed. Was he too gutless to tell her no, the way he’d been too gutless to tell the woman who went on and on about her ex to shut up and leave? Did he secretly want to go through with this? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. She was on top of him now, straddling him, his legs caged between her ample thighs. She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her bare breasts.
They were as cold as the rest of her.
She leaned down and kissed him again. He hadn’t noticed it before, but her tongue was…dry. Her mouth itself tasted strange. Off.
Heather broke from his lips and peppered kisses on his cheek and forehead, assaulting him with an intimacy that Dom no longer wanted.
Through it all, she was as silent as a tomb. She wasn’t panting or rasping with excitement. In fact, he didn’t think she was even breathing.
She brushed her lips along the exposed curve of his throat, and tingles of revulsion shot down his spine. She found his pulse and kissed it. Trembles of excitement raced through her body and she started to lap his neck like a dog.
Without warning, a fiery pinprick of pain exploded over him and Heather began to shake and pant. Dom cried out and tried to fight her off, but she was too heavy, too much.
With a tiny, mouse-like squeak - a sound of pitiable fear and resignation - Dom blacked out.

Recently patch 8.09 was just released and we had the typical change to the game's main screen (menu).
Not counting the Beta, in short, Valorant's menu screens have always been well-made and interesting in my opinion. When you open the game and see that the screen has changed, and it's new artwork or original animation, you feel the "vibe" it wants to convey and clearly defines the moment of the player's time in the game.
Many people have a certain nostalgia for old screens and musical themes that were in past episodes.
But opening the game in the last update and the menu screen that Riot chose was just a GIF lasting less than 1 minute showing just the Masters trophy, then a strange zoom in on the hole in the middle of the trophy and then... It's over.
I swore that when the zoom reached the center of the cup, there would be a cool transition to the last cinematic they released for the Shanghai Masters, which looked really cool, but no, when the zoom reaches the end... There's only one simple fade out effect and then go back to the beginning and stay like that over and over lmao.
In past masters, they also focused on showing just the cup, but there was a much more elaborate animation made in 3D. There's nothing here, you can't even understand what vibe they wanted to convey with this, why focus on the central hole in the cup? Yeah, it's Iso's symbol, and? It looks like a newbie animation intern did this.
I know there will probably be another screen when the tournament is taking place, but this pre-tournament one was pretty weak, doesn't give me any ideas about what to expect from the Masters, doesn't invite me to watch, just makes me look at a random trophy
It's not a big deal, but I felt like it was worth just talking about it because it was pretty underwhelming, at least by Riot standards fr.

I've had two pairs of Otakis for the last 5 or 6 years that I have been resoling.
1) How many times in general should you resole a shoe before it's 'done'? Every one of my resoles needed a new toe cap.
2) I haven't resoled my shoes lately because the local resoler closed and kind of hesitated because shipping would increase the price quite a bit where I didn't know if it was worth it.
I emailed Yosemite bum and rock and resole with pics of one of my shoes which had a hole in the toe. One of the companies said they could resole it, while the other said since the hole has gone through the leather they cannot do anything.
Just wondering why one company said they would be able to do it and another can't? Should I be suspicious about that?
Lastly, even if I get these resoled, going to need a new pair in the meantime. Should I just stick with otakis? Or is there something better I should go for?
Thanks!

Hey everyone! Thanks for checking out my sale!
Proof: https://imgur.com/a/qXSfhTi
Lot of 14 40% silver kennedy half dollars(random dates) - $56 (BELOW MELT at time of posting!)
Barber half dollars (see pics) - $14 ea my pick, $15 ea your pick. (16 available)
1917, 1918-D walking liberty half dollars - $27
Barber quarters (see pics) - $8 ea my pick, $8.50 ea your pick. (12 available)
1926 Standing liberty quarter - $6.50
1928 Standing liberty quarter - $7
1929 Standing liberty quarter - $7
Take all 3 above dated SLQs for $19.50! (excl shipping)
Dateless standing liberty quarters - $5.50 each (5 available)
8x Barber dimes lot - $22
1853 arrows seated liberty dime - $10 $9.50
1853 arrows seated liberty dime - $9.50
1853 arrows seated liberty dime - $9.50
1856 seated liberty dime - $10
1857 seated liberty dime - $10
1875 seated liberty dime - $11
1876 seated liberty dime - $10
1876-S seated liberty dime - $11
1890 seated liberty dime - $10
1890 seated liberty dime - $11
1891 seated liberty dime - $10
1884 seated liberty dime (slight bend) - $8
Take all 12 seated dimes for $112! (Excl shipping)
1845 seated liberty half dime - $20
1844 seated liberty half dime - $15
1857 seated liberty half dime - $15
1856 seated liberty half dime (holed cull, see pics) - $10 $9
Take all 4 half dimes for $55! (Excl shipping)
Beat up 1923 Peace dollar (see pics) - $24
Type 1 Standing liberty quarter (dateless) - $18
1856 Seated liberty quarter - $18
1836 Capped bust dime - $25
1/2 oz fine silver 2013 Australia ‘War in the Pacific’ - $18
1963-D Silver Quarter TONER - $8 $6.50
1944-D Philippines 20 Centavos silver - $5 $4
1965 Canada silver quarter - $5
1892 Sri Lanka Ceylon 10 cents silver UNC - $12 $10
$3.25 FV Random 90% junk silver lot at <21x (kennedies, washingtons, roosies, mercs, dateless SLQs, dateless walker - $68
(Ignore the prices on some of the flips, i didnt write them)
Make me a reasonable offer (in chat), worse i can say is no, or counter. Some items may be firm. No, i will not consider any offers below spot. More room for negotiation the more items you want!
Shipping is $5 ground advantage (first class) or $9 priority
International shipping available! Contact me for costs.
Payment methods: Zelle (preferred), cashapp, venmo, and PPFF
NO notes with payment please!! (Use an emoji if a note is required)
NO GOODS AND SERVICES PAYMENTS. PAYMENTS BETWEEN FRIENDS ONLY
If you have any questions feel free to ask!

• QMK/VIA keyboards - Firmware must be updated on both the source tree and the downloadable file with a change log
• QMK/VIA keyboards must include the MCU used as well as the amount of RAM on the MCU. This must also include the number of layers available
• Newly released keyboards must ship in a FIFO order. People receiving units they just purchased, while people who pre-ordered keyboards are still waiting for their shipment is not acceptable. All orders must include a "ship by" date, with a window of delivery time based on region
• NuPhy needs to provide a US/EU warehouse for returns; shipping back to China is not an acceptable practice
• NuPhy needs to institute a working and visible ticket system for orders, products, pre and post sales support; Discord is not meant to replace a ticketing system, it is meant to be a community discussion platform
• New keyboards must include dates when they will be available in regional marketplaces like Amazon. Many people would rather order from a trusted vendor
• NuPhy must publish layouts with each keyboard; which keycap sets will fit, any extra or non-standard keys that will be needed
• NuPhy must provide a list of compatible switches, especially when listing low profile keyboards
• NuPhy must be swift to respond to firmware issues; provide triage, and an ETA of when issues will be repaired, i.e. double input issues
• NuPhy needs to provide a clearly written and legally binding warranty. Too many customers are being turned down when their keyboard either arrives DOA or stops working after a few days. This warranty must be clear as to what is covered by NuPhy and what is required by customers in order to make a warranty claim that does not get lost in a black hole
• NuPhy must provide clear instructions, especially with QMK/VIA keyboards as to how Windows and Mac layers are handled (which layer is the default Windows layer, default Mac layer). This should be included with each and every change log
• NuPhy needs to foster relationships with honest content creators who will be honest about their products without holding them responsible for NuPhy's faults. Creators are complaining that NuPhy will not work with creators who have even a single negative thing to say. People want honest reviews, not just commercials that paint their products in only good light
• NuPhy needs to list and link alternative QMK/VIA firmware files by community members
• NuPhy needs to abide by QMK's MIT, BSD, Apache, and GNU GPL as well as register their keyboards with VIA's database to avoid the need for VIA JSON files - If NuPhy refuses to do this, then they cannot list their keyboards as QMK/VIA products

My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
First Previous Next
We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

Hi folks
Been setting up a new printer and having a couple of teething problems. Looks like a bit of delamination (though relatively minor for the most part).
I'm not sure if I need longer burn in since it's a bigger build plate to my last one, or if maybe I've got somethig else going wrong with either settings or whatever.
If anyone has a GK2 and lives in North West (or even just North) UK, and gets successful prints, could you let me know your settings? I know you shouldn't take anyone's settings and just use them (and I wouldn't) but I feel I'm not a million miles away from having something that works and some useful ballpark figures from people with the same machine and similar environment might be useful to work with.
I've included a screenshot of my current settings for my new printer (a GK 2) which are basically the same from memory as I used with my old printer (Mars 3 Pro) and was mostly printing very successfully.
n terms of my setup, I've tried to follow that really useful guide by the user Nycralin (sp? - I apologise if the name is wrong - it's a very useful guide and it's basically your first stop on setting up a printer). So it's set up in a shed, and I have the printer in a grow tent and vent fumes out with fan via ducting connecting the grow tent with a PVA sheet with a hole and receiver for the ducting, sheet cut to the size of the window. I used to stick a little ceramic heater in with the Mars 3 but hopefully (as I live in the North West in the UK, so it can get cold) the GK2 heater should help with that.
I know it's all well and good Uniformation claiming it comes pre levelled, but there's pre levelled and pre levelled, so I ran the test they give you and in fairness, it genuinely seemed fine out the box - very snug on each corner with the test strip thingies. (I'd heard in some cases it arrived and was not levelled at all).
So I then printed those square things by Denys Wang - bed levelling squares I think they are called - just very basic little squares. I did 9 in a grid (to see if they'd print in the middle and the corners and edges) and they all came out fine. Then I did the other file buy Denys Wang - I forget the name but its the squares with the four little suction cups to test adhesion and for some reason I only did four of them, one in each quadrant of the plate, roughly in the centre and again they all came out fine.
So then I decided to try something a bit more ambitious and got mixed results. It's the Gluttony Knight by WitchSong miniatures if anyone is familiar with it. The detail on the model is brilliant (at least to my eye) but it looks like there's been some delamination (is that the right word?) in places and somethings obviously gone wrong. I think the plate might possibly have been over full as well. It's also possible there were issues with the files themselves, though I've always found WitchSong to be really good so I don't know about that.
In the pictures, I should point out the supports were not like that on printing, I presume they are splayed out as a result of me washing them (I am still using the old pickle jar plunge up and down method) general handling while moving them about and spending a long time in the sun (I don't have a cure station yet either).
Any help is greatly appreciated

hey all! so normally my cat dahlia will sleep with me in my bed and she absolutely LOVESSS looking out the window that’s at the foot of my bed. this has happened since she was born. but the last 2 nights she’s been in her brand new cat tree (this may be important). suddenly today when i woke up for work she seemed to be behaving strangely, so i picked her up for a quick pre-work cuddle in case i had just not been giving her enough attention (she’s the type to let you know) and she ripped me to shreds just to get out of my arms!! absolutely refuses to get on the bed and the window is even worse. i’ve tried coaxing her with treats and some “exposure therapy” (i hold her and pet her and assure her while she stands petrified on the bed) but i don’t want to make her hate it even worse. this is a COMPLETE 180 from her usual self, she’s usually fighting to get me off her so she can go to her window, not the other way around :(
when i put together the cat tree i had to clear out a corner of my room that had been untouched for a while and moved some plushies to the side of my bed (near the window). that corner had previously housed a not-neutered tomcat about 6 years ago, so my working theory is his spray/smell is still on the items from that corner that are now being housed on the bed and by the window. but how do i make it where she’s comfortable to come back? there’s no physical smell to any of it but there’s no way things can be put back where they were originally, so i’m just at a loss. i don’t want her to lose her favourite thing and i don’t want to lose my cuddle buddy :(
pics of her how she normally is, cuddly and sweet on the bed + what she did this morning bc she was so scared of the bed

Barron, Laird. “Jaws of Saturn.” The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All. Night Shade Books, 2013.

Summary

Carol is Franco’s girl, and when he learns a two-bit stage magician is practicing hypnotism on her, Franco goes to pay the old man a visit. But Phil Wary is no mere purveyor of parlor tricks. The line between dreams and waking, between our reality and one of monstrous dimensions, erodes, as Franco and Carol find themselves ground to bits between the “Jaws of Saturn.”

Characters

• Franco - a private security attache and enforcer. Well groomed, well read, well armed.
• Carol - Franco’s lover and resident of The Broadsword Hotel.
• Phil Wary - an elderly resident of The Broadsword and career stage magician; also a powerful practitioner of the Black Arts.

Story

In the lounge of the Broadsword Hotel, Carol tells Franco of a dream she had of her former lover Marvin Cortez. Franco tries to explain it away as mere messages from her subconscious, but he’s also jealous. In her room, they engage in vigorous sex and Franco observes that, for a moment, one of her irises is inhumanly oblong. He doesn’t know what to make of this and presses Carol on her current state of mind, especially her recent weird dreams. She admits she’s been visiting old Phil Wary in his apartment upstairs, paying him for hypnosis sessions to help kick her smoking habit. That’s all Franco needs to know. This old sheister is trying to get into Carol’s pants and he’s screwing with her head. He’ll pay Phil Wary a visit. But first, he falls asleep and dreams of lovely, voluptuous Carol standing frozen in the Broadsword lobby as a shadow of “colossal dimensions” looms over her.
Franco is a bodyguard/enforcer for millionaire Jacob Wilson and is no stranger to intimidation, violence, and murder. He ferrets out Wary’s number and rings him up. Wary dismisses Franco contemptuously over the phone (“You sound like an oaf, a knuckle dragger.”) so Franco breaks into his apartment where he confronts the old man about making moves on Carol under the guise of therapeutic mesmerism. Phil Wary is both sardonically condescending and oddly patient with Franco, giving him more than one opportunity to walk away. But Franco is consumed with (perhaps nurses) his jealousy and strikes Wary across the face with a belt, ordering him to stay away from his girlfriend. Franco’s action does not have the intended effect. Wary shakes off the blows and effortlessly subdues Franco.
Wary stows the bound Franco in a closet, on tiptoes with a belt tightened around his neck, and leaves the door ajar so he can watch as Carol enters for her hypnosis session. Something’s wrong about the closet: he can’t see its ceiling. The dimension of height goes up and up into darkness. Franco struggles to maintain consciousness and can only watch as Wary entrances Carol then guides her to his apartment wall where he pulls back a flap of old wallpaper and has her look through a hole at… Franco doesn’t know what she could possibly be seeing other than the back lot of the Broadsword. Wary releases Carol from the trance and sends her on her way. Now Wary leads Franco to the wall, telling him, “All this flesh is but a projection. We are the dream of something greater and more dreadful than you could imagine. To gaze into the abyss is to recognize the dreamer and in recognition, to wake.” He forces Franco’s eye against the hole in the wall. Franco passes out. When he comes to, he receives a call on Wary’s phone from his boss Jacob Wilson, who fires him on the spot. Wary offers tepid consolation before ejecting Franco into the hall. Franco suddenly wakes in Carol’s bed, screaming.
Franco and Carol’s nightmares intensify as the boundary between dreaming and waking life erodes. Their nightmares increasingly feature familiar locations distended into cyclopean dimensions, and threats from above - at first tendrils descending from the sky, then the hand of a giant. In desperation, Franco returns to the Broadsword, packing his pistol, but the opportunity to kill Phil Wary has passed if it truly ever existed. He has a vision of Carol in the vaulted hotel lobby and, above them, Wary - now a colossus like the titan Saturn in de Goya’s famous painting - towers above them. The giant picks up Franco and raises him to its face - but Franco “had a long, agonizing moment to recognize his own face mirrored by the primordial aspect of the giant.” Franco is devoured.
There’s a brief coda where Franco (?) wakes, a giant in an ancient or future world, and is joined by his titanic lover. Together they loom over “all the tiny houses and all the tiny works of men.”

Analysis

As I write this, I have just woken from a dream. In the dream, I am asleep and dreaming of looking at a reproduction toy catalog and, sure enough, there are three pages of the old Micronauts toy line with which I am still obsessed. I wonder if these toys will ever be reissued. Then I wake up. There’s a book at the far end of the bed. It’s out of reach and I’m still sleepy and don’t want to stretch to grab it. I wonder, as I so often have: if I focus on that book and believe that waking reality is mine to shape as I do in dreams, can I make that book really leap into my hand? I do, and it does! I double-check to be sure I’m really awake. Yes - yes, I’m awake! This is finally, really happening! I try it again, pulling a rock from the ground through telekinesis. It’s easy. I have come into my own, a demigod among men. Then I wake up, for real this time.
My subconsciousness giggles. Pwned again.
All this to say: it’s disconcerting when the line between dreaming and waking consciousness breaks down, which is what’s happening for Franco and Carol, and at a scale that defies Euclidian geometry.
In fact, Franco’s experience is like stumbling onto the Devil’s Narnia. The closet in Phil Wary’s apartment - like C.S. Lewis’ coat-filled wardrobe - opens onto an impossibly large dimension, one lighted not by a snow-strewn lamppost but a hideous red light. For both Franco and Carol, the gulf between dreams and waking reality is melting away. The dreaminess/nightmarishness doesn’t make their experiences of this other (truer?) world any less real. Again, the occultist tells Franco, “We are the dream of something greater and more dreadful than you could imagine. To gaze into the abyss is to recognize the dreamer and in recognition, to wake.”
In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the Pevensie children’s true identity is revealed as the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve. Franco and Carol’s journey in “Jaws of Saturn” makes them a kind of Adam and Eve, but of a titanic cast. Their early sex scene shows Franco on the verge of an atavistic state, nearly unbridled from the abstraction that is modern human consciousness. The knowledge he seeks - what is Wary doing to Carol? - opens the door on a transformation that grounds him, bringing him closer to the true, perilous state of being alive, an atavistic state that finds its ultimate form as a titan in the post-civilization world of the coda. And herein we see a common journey for the Barronic hero: the search for Cursed Knowledge begins the Unraveling/Unveiling of Reality culminating in a Hideous Fate which leads to one’s Ultimate Form. (Note: Laird has a story titled "Don't Make Me Assume My Ultimate Form.”)
As I write this, my daughter has just called me from DC, upset by terrible dreams of a book that looks like the Bible, but it’s not the Bible, and our cat Izzy who died a few weeks ago has returned, but she keeps fading in and out of view. In her dream, my daughter is scared to get on an elevator because she’s on roller skates and the people in the building say the elevator is really slow, but the doors open, she gets in and the elevator moves so fast she’s floating. When it stops, the doors open onto a garden filled with people who want her to read a passage from the book that’s not the Bible: it’s Zanderthonis, book 2, chapter 3. And she keeps trying to wake up from the dream so she can tell someone about it but she can’t escape the building.
All this to say: Watch out, friends. The dreams, they’re catching.
Connections to other stories:

• The setting of “Jaws of Saturn” is the Broadsword Hotel, seen previously in “The Broadsword.”
• Carol’s former lover is Marvin Cortez, protagonist of “The Imago Sequence.” She mentions him to Franco, and Franco knows who he is. Franco works for Jacob Wilson, nephew of Teddy Wilson whose disappearance is mentioned in “The Imago Sequence.”
• “Hand of Glory” - Phil Wary - under his pseudonym Helios Augustus - sets Johnny Cope on the trail of Conrad Paxton.
• It’s not insignificant that “Jaws of Saturn” clearly ties together the transhumanism stories of The Imago Sequence to the Old Leech stories of Occultation by placing Franco’s and Carol’s conversation about Marvin Cortez in the Broadsword Hotel where Pershing Dennard ran afoul of the Children of Old Leech.

In part VI, the doctor examining Franco checks his eyes and says “something about coloboma.” ClevelandClinic.org notes: “The most recognizable and common colobomas affect your iris (the colored part of your eye) and cause your pupil (the dark center of your eye) to have a keyhole shape.” In other words, what was happening to Carol is now happening to Franco, and the change is the key to unlocking the underlying reality of the world.

Discussion

1. What did Franco see through the hole in the wall in Phil Wary’s apartment?
2. What’s the significance of Saturn, and specifically the de Goya painting of Saturn eating his children?
3. Did I miss connections to any other Laird Barron story?
4. Which Broadsword resident has the worse fate? Pershing Dennard (“The Broadsword”) or Franco (“Jaws of Saturn”)?
5. Which other Barronic heroes undergo the ordeal of Cursed Knowledge > Unveiling Reality > Hideous Fate > Ultimate Form?