Industrial partner involved in grant research!
I am new PhD candidate. Let me start from the beginning. I saw an advertisement about full scholarship with monthly allowance. I applied for it and then i has an interview with the supervisor. During the interview the supervisor mentioned that it doesn't cover the tuition and visa fees. I had a long think about it decided to proceed with offer.
After i proceed with university enrollment, visa application, and arrived to the country i am going to phd in it. I had a meeting with my supervisor. He gave me more details about the grant which is the idea of his friend for industrial field (not academic) and he offered me to be involved in some projects so that I can get data from these projects and use them for my PhD. However, the scope of work on these projects are not related to grant and phd scope. In another word, I'll be working on these projects in exchange of data. My supervisor mentioned that if i work with the company, maybe I'll some allowance but not guaranteed. I accepted informally, oral acceptance. Now i am working from the office. The industrial partner told me that he promised my SV that I'll not be involved in other projects except these where i can get data from. He said I'll not pay you as you get paid by "scholarship", but in case you couldn't finish your PhD within the grant project period. I'll hire you and pay to finish your PhD. However, you will work in other projects too. He thinks this is fair.
Also, as it is his idea and "no one can get this idea except him because he has very long experience in industry". He is willing to give the privilege to be the first author in 2 papers that i am going to write. And I'll be the 3rd author for the remaining papers which I'll be writing too 😑.two papers as first author are the requirements of the university.
I don't know what to do now. I think they trying to use me and take advantage of me. I'll appreciate any advice from you

Sometimes in my target language I’m talking, some word pops in my mind in the wrong order and I know it’s probably not correct. I figure I could construct a correct sentence if I were to think for two seconds then speak. But that’s a super long time in real-time.
TLDR: is it better to say the first thing that comes to mind or to stick with phrases that you know are correct when your first learning language and communicating?

I got a driver the other night that had 4.7 stars but encountered some issues. 1) car was too hot and he didn’t ask or offer to turn on AC. Maybe it was broken who knows? 2) loud rap music with curse words every other word. Never asked if it was ok or if we liked it. 3) drove too fast - I drive 5-10 over speed limit and he was a lot faster. 4) general unfriendly demeanor - he didn’t seem like bringing up any of the above would be a good idea. I couldn’t tell if there were language proficiency barriers. I did tip him, but lower than I normally would. I gave him 3 stars as opposed to my usual 5. Is this the way to handle this situation?

Hi friends! I'm hoping to get some advice on how to calmly approach the topic of needing more TLC from my so. We've been together for almost 6 months now. I struggle with communicating and am looking for some help.
To preface, I started feeling a little bitter a few weeks ago, when my boyfriend really started going heavy on the "teasing" and joking. Don't get me wrong. He's always been that way, as have I. We have fun teasing each other. But as of late it has just felt like nonstop teasing about everything I do. ex: we're at the gym and I drop my airpod. oops. Sometimes he'll tease me on being a clutz. But for the past few weeks EVERYTIME I drop something/clutz up he'll say "embarrassingggg" or just give me a smartass face. Which I DID NOT mind until it started happening literally all the time. That's just one example. You get the idea. Sometimes I feel he's treating me like a sibling instead of a girlfriend. And I know it's because he feels comfortable and we are used to teasing each other. But he would always make up for it by giving me some loving and some kind words. Now it is just relentless joking and poking fun. It's not like anything he says has made me insecure or feel unloved. It's less about the content of the jokes, and more about the lack of some seriousness. I should also add, today when he made a joke about me skipping leg day I turned around and said "that was mean." He didn't really have a response but I could tell he felt bad and he cooled off the rest of our workout. He asked why I was so bummed out and I said it's because of your joke. So I've kinda let him know how it makes me feel. I know it's gonna take a serious conversation. I just don't know how to start that or where to begin. This is both of our first "real" relationships so I'm trying to be patient. I just want some more lovin. Plz no "dump him". I would love some genuinely helpful advice :)
TLDR: My bf has been teasing me relentlessly and I'm bad at communicating my needs. How do I start a conversation about lessening the teasing and showing me some more affection?

(This post is a shit-show to read because I’m sad and my mind is scattered. So, apologies.)
lm currently a sophomore in college. I started at one university and transferred to another, and my old school had classes be worth more credits so I have a lot of elective credits built up already (aka little wiggle room to take classes that don’t apply to my major). It feels like I’ve changed my major about 9 million times so far. From environmental science, zoology, fisheries and wildlife, to a brief interest in neuroscience - it had all stayed within the science field. The issue is that I’m running out of time to keep changing my mind. I’m in a very depressed mental state and am currently trying to quit a slight addiction to weed. To try to put it into words- I’m exhausted, and have worn myself so thin I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m now thinking of changing my major to education, because I love math and want to teach others to love it too. When I first applied to colleges I mentioned my interest in math education so this isn’t a new idea or anything. I’m just so confused because whenever I express a new idea for a major to other people they soak it right up, they say that I seem so passionate on the subject and that I should definitely pursue it. I feel like a fraud. Like I’m lying to people about what I like and who i am. I want to take a gap year to figure out my mental state but my family thinks I would never go back to school. I just don’t know what to do, as one of the most indecisive people out there, I just can’t seem to make up my mind.

I got a 188 on the GED Ready test but they didn't score the essay would I be ready to take the test or do I need more work?
(I didn't change the spelling errors or anything else from the test)
When looking between these proposals, the winner becomes known in the matter of moments. The proposal for automatic traffic lights (FATL) is the clear winner why you ask? Proposal FATL starts of with stating their idea and why it would be benafical to have automatic traffic cameras on the other hand the proposal against automatic traffic lights (AATF) puts down the other lacking to bring up another solution, and after word provides unconcrete data.
In paragraph 6 Baler Herald brings up the fact that by his calculations instaling traffic cameras would be to costly to be worth it. I'm going to ask you a retorical question who is Baler Herald does his name hold any weight to be compared to the data of for example, the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety or is he a person with absolutely no experince this right there already invalidates his argument but theres more.
Baler Herald writes an argument to propose not instaling traffic cameras and instead to higher more cops but not a single time in the argument do I see him supporting his proposal he doesn't even compare and contrast the cost of hiring 10 cops to the cost of the traffic cameras making his argument weak.
While Councilman Lorenzo supports his claim with constant stats and data Baler Herald a civil engineer supports his with unconstant data and occurances in a moment it become ever clear that Baler Herald is out of his depth and Councilman Lorenzo knows what he's talking about.

I have a dumb idea for a gag-character but I still want it to be somewhat useful in a party.
Inspired by my dad (he was a cantor for the synagogue I grew up going to), I want to create “Shabbat the Gnome,” a play-on-words for the greeting “Shabbat Shalom” used during the sabbath.
I’m not sure if I should make him a Cleric or Paladin (maybe Druid?), but I definitely want to multi-class into bard at some point for the singing. The DM is using the pantheon from Dragonlance, but the world is mostly Forgotten Realms-ish (it will change more as the campaign goes on I’ve been told).
Things I want my character to be able to do: fire spells and/or light spells, wine-related powers (not sure if this is a thing in D&D), and something involving challah (braided bread).
I know part of Shabbat’s backstory will be about him abandoning his twin brother Havdalah after hearing a prophecy saying that one was destined to destroy the other.
I’m joining a bit late in the campaign, so everyone else is 2nd level while I’m currently still 1st level.
I’m having trouble figuring out what combination of Subrace, Domain, Background, and Feat would give my party the best advantage. They don’t have a healer right now, so I’m hoping to fill some of that role as well. When rolling my ability scores, which should I prioritize?
Other things I’m struggling to decide on: Features, Traits, Ideal, Bond, Flaw.

I have a 3 yo miniature poodle/german shepherd/cattle dog mix. He is constantly looking for a job-retrieving, frisbee, etc. I have also observed him trying to herd other dogs- he gets low and watches them before doing so-when playing and today he herded my neighbors ducks away from our cat when she felt threatened. I have sheep but he’s never been on the same side of the fence with them. I’m wondering if he might be good at herding them (we have 6 very friendly, people oriented Shetlands) but have no idea how to start. If I take him in with the sheep will it be obvious by his behavior if he could be a herder? Should I teach him herding commands before trying?

Here’s the deal. IT leadership seems to have shiny object syndrome. They start massive projects, leave them in sloppy state and move on to what else they can get quick fame and recognition for. Effects?
-FRICTION- The new crm? No data mapping prioritized. Said they did new taxonomy but all it takes it one peak under hood to see this wasn’t executed. They want adoption but haven’t built an environment sales nor other back house teams can use. They ignored and continue to not even put critics marketing needs on a roadmap and say they are too busy to get my team trained bc even if a partner runs it they have to be involved…what tech forward org does not prioritize data mapping new source streams or capturing source ?! How can any of us show ROI ? The messed up part is that their is alignment on all these issues among even vp’s of IT + marketing. Yet, this problem persists and I have no idea why we can’t put egos aside and demand they align with business objectives. These major investments are money suckers not rev drivers simply because they don’t finish and aren’t building tech stack in strategic fashion. Moving on to plug-ins when our main tech house is a hollow mess that no one can work in. They’ve tried to shift negative attention to my team, sometimes with success but I think I’m getting through to executive team it’s just exhausting and I need a way to get my projects passed before they may intervene bc it’s making all us look bad that we can’t align or show better ROI fore shared projects like the website, journey mapping and automation in crm. While most of that is marketing, I’m blocked from the access collab, resources and training I need to see these things through. The friction involved in finding ways to run campaigns and get what marketing needs out of it is infuriating. I don’t want this to keep me up at night BUT IT DOES. ******** has any marketing leader here been in a situation like this and if so, any words of advice? (The persons are nearing retirement and idk what’s gotten in to them, if it’s chasing what’s fun or not seeing the gaps they are creating or both) -it’s like we speak different languages

As the title states, (and despite the existential risk to myself - as I am disabled, impoverished, and my survival is reliant on the room I rent in her attic - given her recent threat to have have me thrown out by the police because she could not handle the feelings she had during the argument that she initiated), I have finally drawn a bright red line in the metaphorical sand regarding her treatment of me. This is the culmination of 8+ years of sustained, one-sided, unreciprocated, and unsuccessful effort on my part to sustain, salvage, repair, or improve our "relationship"
 
I've learned a lot from the stories and people on this subreddit, and I know if anyone can understand the way that I'm feeling about this it's you guys.
 
Any input, commentary, criticism, insight, commiseration, etc, is very welcome, and I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read it.
 
Anyways, enough preamble, here's the letter in all of my ridiculously-verbose inglory (the square-bracketed disclaimers, etc, were part of the letter as delivered to her, since she is selective illiterate whenever there's something she doesn't like):
 
[START]
 
[This document begins with a 382 word AI-generated summary (titled "AI- GENERATED SUMMARY:" below the square-bracketed opening remarks), estimated at 1m23s time required to read. If you are unable or unwilling to make it through even this brief summary, then there is literally nothing else I could possibly do to assist in your comprehension of my positions. The full message following the summary is approximately 2100 words, estimated at approximately 8 minutes to read.]
 
[If you would like assistance in understanding things I've written that you're struggling to interpret or comprehend, you can go to chatgpt.com (no account necessary), or download the ChatGPT app from the Google Play Store on your phone. You can simply interact with the chat in natural language (in other words, type as though you were texting another person) and it will understand what you are saying. If you are struggling to understand how to interact with it effectively, you can simply inform it of that (in any wording you choose) and it will assist you with altering your approach to receive more effective results.]
 
AI-GENERATED SUMMARY:
 
Your son's message is a powerful declaration of his boundaries, grievances, and intentions within your relationship. Here's a breakdown to help you understand:
 
Preface: He advises you to read with an open mind and, if needed, with assistance due to the emotional complexity.
 
Declaration of Disengagement: He firmly states his decision to disengage from any form of interaction or acknowledgment outside of essential landlord-tenant matters.
 
Condemnation of Abuse: He accuses you of perpetuating a cycle of abuse that has deeply impacted his health and stability.
 
Rejection of Coercion: He dismisses the idea that being evicted is a viable solution to the abuse, highlighting the coercive nature of such a choice, and how it leaves him vulnerable to further harm.
 
Criticism of Your Behavior: He unreservedly condemns your actions, particularly your exploitation and manipulation, emphasizing the gravity and effects of your conduct.
 
Challenges to Your Claims: He directly confronts your claims regarding his efforts in the relationship, asserting that he has consistently made extensive attempts to maintain it, despite your accusations to the contrary.
 
Commitment to Compliance: He unequivocally affirms his commitment to compliance with all landlord-related demands, demonstrating his unwavering respect for your authority as the homeowner.
 
Demand for Clarity: He demands clear and unambiguous knowledge of the requisite terms when any changes to living arrangement paradigms are demanded, underscoring his willingness to comply with any directives you may issue.
 
Defense Against Gaslighting: He firmly asserts his unwavering commitment to respecting your property and authority, preemptively refuting any attempts to accuse him otherwise.
 
Insights into Your Behaviour: He offers insights into patterns in your behaviour, linking them to moments of vulnerability or distress in your life.
 
Call for Self-Reflection: He urges you to seek professional help for your narcissism and unresolved childhood traumas.
 
Caution Regarding Gravity: He states that failing to address your responsibilities would be a missed opportunity for both of you to salvage the relationship and resolve underlying issues.
 
Reiteration of Hope: Despite his current stance, he leaves the door open for reconciliation if you undergo necessary personal growth.
 
Closure on Unequal Effort: He firmly states that he can no longer sustain the one-sided effort in the relationship and won't continue to do so.
 
It's evident that he's deeply hurt and demanding acknowledgment, change, and resolution in your relationship.
 
[end of AI-generated summary; my full, non-AI-generated message follows below]
 
[I recommend that you read this in its entirety at a time and capacity level where your literacy and comprehension are at their highest level, and preferably with the interpretational assistance of a knowledgeable and competent support person or technological assistant.]
 
[Presumably, after reading a few sentences or less, your defense mechanisms will be activated and you will eject. However, as with the vast majority of the things I have said to you that have gone unacknowledged, I am completely certain that the contents are cogent and comprehensible, and I believe that with competent support and vulnerable effort you undoubtedly have the raw cognitive capacity necessary for comprehension if you are able to stabilize your emotional reactions and put real effort into the actions necessary for you to understand my words.]
 
I will not talk to you.
I will not look at you.
I will not approach you.
I will not acknowledge you.
 
If you attempt to interact with me on any interpersonal level not related to your role as a landlord, I will reserve the right to express just how fucking despicable it is to treat such a vulnerable person with such utter disregard and abuse for so fucking long.
 
The cycle of abuse you have maintained to destabilize me for your own pathological reasons has caused - and continues to cause - extensive damage to my health, stability, and existence. However, since I know your response to this would likely be some variation of "you're not a victim here [my name], so if I treat you so bad, just leave", I'll preemptively and unequivocally condemn such coercive and abusive tactics, and state again (as I did the other day), that the forced choice between your abuse and life-threatening-homelessness is obviously no choice at all, and leaves me perpetually subject to your coercion and abusive control.
 
Such exploitation by you is absolutely disgusting, and honestly I understand why you run away from yourself at every single instance where you're in danger of having your lifelong house-of-cards ego even slightly threatened. I know if I treated another human being the way you treat me for even a moment, let alone for the literal years you have done so, I would not be able to face myself in the mirror either. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.
 
You say I "don't want to be your son anymore", as though it has been someone other than me making hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of hours of efforts and attempts in order to try and single-handedly keep our relationship alive, and as though it has been someone other than you who has stonewalled me for years about every single legitimate and valid time I attempted to gain even the slightest foothold as a full human being in the owner-pet relationship you have fought so hard to maintain. You siphon, in fact demand, emotional supply whenever you so choose, and then fucking discard me as soon as it appears that I might do anything that would result in you losing even a fraction of a percent of the 99% to 1% imbalance you believe is an immutable part of our "relationship".
 
I will do my absolute best to be in my room as much as physically possible when you are home, so as to minimize the need to be physically adjacent to you in the course of our respective activities of daily living.
 
I, again, remain unequivocally committed to my position of deference and compliance towards any rules/demands related to my existence, presence, or activities as your tenant.
 
As you refuse to provide any sort of unambiguous guidance or clarification whatsoever regarding your shifting demands affecting my ability to access/perform basic activities of daily living, I will continue to act in good faith with respect to my adherence to all previously-established arrangements and protocols (whether codified or de facto) regarding such activities. To the full extent of my abilities, and to the extent that it is physically possible, I will immediately and unequivocally comply with any alterations, additions, or excisions you choose to impose regarding the nature of our physical coexistence as landlord and tenant, regardless of your disregard or intent for any harm to my stability that will ensue as a result.
 
If you intend to attempt to manipulate or threaten or gaslight me to illegitimately and dishonestly accuse me of failing to comply with your rights and demands as the homeownelandlord, then I can assure you that such efforts will be ineffective and inadvisable. The extensive history of my genuine, documented, and unwavering commitment to absolute respect of your home, property, and landlord-tenant authority is unassailable, and nothing has or will change about the good faith nature of my efforts to simply live peacefully and work on stabilizing my health and continuing to attempt to develop basic protocols that offer me the opportunity to seek the ways and means required to sustainably exist, survive, and seek meaning and fulfilment as a human being.
 
To try and make it a bit more bite-sized (without warranty as to the efficacy of said efforts), since I know when your ego is threatened you conveniently - and dishonestly - become completely unable to read a couple thousand words:
 

• I have never been more disgusted by the actions of anyone or anything more in my entire fucking existence.

 

• I will continue to be an absolute model tenant, despite the harmful effects of your constant abuse, and I will unequivocally comply with any demands you make with your authority as my landlord. I will explicitly and aggressively defend against any attempts to gaslight me, or attempt to dishonestly accuse me of failing to comply with any such demands.

 

• Feel free at anytime in your life to decide that maybe it might be time to face the fact that - though skillful in your delusion - you are the same scared child you were 40 years ago, and if you ever want to truly and meaningfully experience what it's like to be secure with yourself beneath the false veneer of superficial and ego-protecting interactions you surround yourself with at the exclusion of true and honest existential vulnerability, then you need to seek, engage with, and be honest and vulnerable with, professional clinical care for your intractable narcissism and the lifelong effects and deficits associated with same. In other words, to reductively and rhetorically restate what you disgustingly told me the other day as a means of deflecting from the fact that you couldn't go more than two seconds without contradicting yourself, “get your fucking meds adjusted”.

 

• When faced with any sort of challenge to your control or authority, your lifelong fear of abandonment has caused you to push people away before they have the opportunity to leave you, resulting in premature, self-created, and misdirected sabotage of significant relationships at the first sign of disturbance or genuine vulnerability. I know you're terrible at recognizing or interpreting patterns or facts, but think, for example, about when your efforts to remove me from your life and/or house have been at their most intense:

 

• (a) in 2016(ish) when conflicts about my role in helping with the [redacted address][job of cleaning out my grandpa's apartment after Alzheimer's took hold] triggered feelings of grief and fear in you at the decline of your father's health and the inevitability of his then-upcoming death,

 

• (b) in late 2019 through 2020ish, in the leadup to and aftermath of your father's death, where you threatened or demanded my removal from your house during damn-near every single minor conflict about utterly insignificant household disputes. The vulnerability and grief you felt surrounding his death triggered the core-level unresolved sense of abandonment you carry as a result of the lack of parental affection you received because of, inter alia, the level of care required by your [editor's note: dying of CF as a teenager] sister and resultant lack of parental support available to you as a result,

 

• (c) in 2021ish, surrounding your mother's acute medical events and her subsequent death, where your treatment of me followed effectively the same patterns and underlying causes as the item above (sans explicit threats of eviction, opting instead for the more oblique and covert references that have been your MO until the recent regression to explicit threats within the past few days).

 

• (d) in 2024, surrounding the final decline and subsequent death of [dog], where all of the same behaviours described above returned and steadily escalated, culminating in telling me to get the fuck out of your house because I wouldn't stop moving some boxes for 30 minutes, and then telling me that you were going to call the police to have me removed from your house as a result of your inability to force me to stop making accurate statements that damaged your ego and need for unquestioned interpersonal control in your self-appointed role as the sole ruler of the relational hierarchy you fought so hard to maintain.

 

• You need to actively and vulnerably seek and participate in professional clinical treatment for the lifelong effects of the hollow narcissism that has maladaptively protected you from your deepest childhood injuries and vulnerabilities, at the expense of truly genuine connection with, at the very least, your firstborn and only son.

 

• [note that the contents of this bullet point are neither a threat of suicide, nor an indication of any intent whatsoever to harm myself or others. I am including this disclaimer to preemptively remove your ability to selectively manipulate my words in order to further gaslight me]
  If you want me gone from your house, and life (and possibly my own life, given the extreme existential risk posed by homelessness for a vulnerable person with the significant disabilities I am faced with), then you will have to have me physically removed from your house in cold blood, and until the day you (or I, depending on the order) die you will live with that being the last time you ever saw the son that you took for granted and abused for 32 fucking years while he groveled at your feet begging for even scraps of affection or humanity from the person who constantly love-bombed and discarded him at her convenience to serve her own narcissistic desires worth no regard for the whole entire person she was subjugating to the role of, barely, a pet.
  

 

• Be aware that if you choose to remove me from your life as a pathological and assuredly-ineffective avoidance mechanism to try and preemptively shield yourself from the fear of abandonment that is triggered in you as a result of my overwhelmingly valid and necessary actions to demand that you cease your lifelong efforts to subjugate me in your self-created hierarchical position at the top of our unequal relationship, then you will be doing yourself an irreparable disservice by extinguishing whatever sliver of opportunity might remain for you to get the help you need to allow you to finally see me as a real person and begin making real decisions and changes and efforts to participate in efforts to salvage whatever scraps of hope might remain for us to have a relationship before both/either of us die.

 

• Feel free to ignore and/or conceal the tens of thousands of words of documented history in order to share contextless excerpts of this text within your self-serving echo chambers in your efforts to receive false validation of your delusional victimhood. Or, alternatively, feel free to vulnerably share this in its entirety - along with the full corpus of my messaging regarding the severity of the harms caused by your behaviours - with a competent and knowledgeable mental health professional(s) for the purposes of seeking treatment for your underlying pathologies and working towards genuine growth.

 

• In the unlikely (though incomprehensibly-or-perhaps-delusionally-still-hopeful) event that you are still reading, I will conclude by saying that the possibility for any hope of salvaging our relationship lies firmly and solely within your control.

 

• After over 8 years of significant, relentless, documented, often-vilified, and absolutely unreciprocated efforts to single-handedly to put 100% of the effort into a relationship that you reaped the benefits of while remaining unwavering in your abdication of even the slightest of responsibilities, I have run out of ways, means, ideas, and capacity to continue unsuccessfully trying to do both of our parts.

 

• I am not closing the door to the possibility of reconciliation if/once you have undertaken the extensive individual work you need to do if you are ever going to be able and willing to put the necessary effort into repairing our relationship. But neither am I continuing to continue working outside your closed door hoping that one day I might be able to do enough to influence you to treat me like a full, real, EQUAL, human being.

 
I love you, and goodbye for now. I hope to see you on the other side, but I cannot force you to undertake the journey.
 
- [name]
 
[/END]
(any edits are fixing formatting/copy&paste errors)

I have a dumb idea for a gag-character but I still want it to be somewhat useful in a party.
Inspired by my dad (he was a cantor for the synagogue I grew up going to), I want to create “Shabbat the Gnome,” a play-on-words for the greeting “Shabbat Shalom” used during the sabbath.
I’m not sure if I should make him a Cleric or Paladin (maybe Druid?), but I definitely want to multi-class into bard at some point for the singing. The DM is using the pantheon from Dragonlance, but the world is mostly Forgotten Realms-ish (it will change more as the campaign goes on I’ve been told).
Things I want my character to be able to do: fire spells and/or light spells, wine-related powers (not sure if this is a thing in D&D), and something involving challah (braided bread).
I know part of Shabbat’s backstory will be about him abandoning his twin brother Havdalah after hearing a prophecy saying that one was destined to destroy the other.
I’m joining a bit late in the campaign, so everyone else is 2nd level while I’m currently still 1st level.
I’m having trouble figuring out what combination of Subrace, Domain, Background, and Feat would give my party the best advantage. They don’t have a healer right now, so I’m hoping to fill some of that role as well. When rolling my ability scores, which should I prioritize?
Other things I’m struggling to decide on: Features, Traits, Ideal, Bond, Flaw.

Is it okay to have an abstract thesis based an argument prompt? When I finished the exam, I realized my idea of the argument was completely different than other people. I used a different definition of the same word in the prompt and made sense of the prompt using that same definition. The thing is, I try to explain my line of thinking in my essay. Will this simply get no points at all, or will the grader recognize my unique approach to the prompt?

BACKGROUND - I’m (31F) singing for my grandpa (died at 92 years old), whom everyone, regardless of their relation to him, called “Papi.” - Papi immigrated to the US from Cuba with my grandma (died 7 years ago) and their 8 kids as refugees in the 60s. - Papi spoke primarily Spanish but the rest of the family speaks mainly English and Spanish.
IDEAS (lyrics below) - Change whenever it says “Daddy” to “Papi.” - “I'm not your son, you're not my father We're just two grown men saying goodbye.” I don’t know how to change this, as I am his granddaughter. I can make it reflect me or loved ones even, but I don’t know how to make it have the same powerful impact that this line has. - any and all suggestions and ideas welcomed
LYRICS
Oh, before they turn off all the lights I won't read you your wrongs or your rights The time has gone I'll tell you good night, close the door I'll tell you I love you once more The time has gone So here it is I'm not your son, you're not my father We're just two grown men saying goodbye No need to forgive, no need to forget I know your mistakes and you know mine While you're sleeping, I'll try to make you proud So, daddy, won't you just close your eyes? Don't be afraid, it's my turn to chase the monsters away Oh, well, I'll read a story to you Only difference is this one is true The time has gone I folded your clothes on the chair I hope you sleep well, don't be scared The time has gone So here it is I'm not your son, you're not my father We're just two grown men saying goodbye No need to forgive, no need to forget I know your mistakes and you know mine And while you're sleeping, I'll try to make you proud So, daddy, won't you just close your eyes? Don't be afraid, it's my turn to chase the monsters away Sleep a lifetime, yes, and breathe a last word You can feel my hand on your own I will be the last one, so I'll leave a light on Let there be no darkness in your heart 'Cause I'm not your son, you're not my father We're just two grown men saying goodbye No need to forgive, no need to forget I know your mistakes and you know mine And while you're sleeping, I'll try to make you proud So, daddy, won't you just close your eyes? Don't be afraid, it's my turn to chase the monsters away

[OC Intro: The game is modded to increase basic jobs cost, seasonal events are disabled. Much of the crash details are based on NASA/SP-2008-565 Columbia Crew Survival Investigation Report recommendations especially Chapter 3 "Occupant Protection".]
The ship is without power, and Tightniks can't run the radar much without draining the batteries. He has only a few minutes of APU power left, goes over the best clearing he can find, and radars it. It varies by only a few feet from the aerodynamic glideslope there. He spots it out on the cameras and circles to go after that spot. He's only at two hundred feet now. With one hand on the stick, he uses the other to open the pressure equalization valve on the side hatch, then at one hundred feet, gets it undogged. Depending on how much damage he's going to get, it's less likely to be stuck closed and trap him. The dynamic vacuum this pulls in the cockpit rips most of the survival pack data cards from that rack and scatters them across the landscape. Crap, I'm gonna need those! Refocusing on surviving the next few seconds, he turns on the radar for the final approach, takes a last look around, then straight ahead at his forward camera and PFD, he clicks his HANS and shoulder strap locks in; after that, he can barely move, but that now is better than dying in this crash with a broken neck. He's a decent pilot and brings up the flare gently. Bringing up the alpha on this delta-winged ship, he balloons a little, but keeps the nose going up and restores a zero aerodynamic sink rate just above the highest terrain indicated by the radar altimeter. The ship bumps a little in the ground effect, and he can see the radar altitude cycling irregularly up and down about five feet at a time. Rougher than it looked from higher up! The body flap protecting the dead engines hits first, and the nose comes rapidly down. It hits, the screens go blank, and Tightniks is surrounded by airbags, some lifting his feet from the rudder petals and his hand from the control stick. It's blinding, it's disorienting, it's noisy, and, to his relief, it's long! It takes several seconds before the crashing cockpit stops moving. How many times did he flip over? Did he go sideways and roll? Am I rightside up? Are we really stopped on the ground? The airbags deflate, and he can move his arms. He gets his restraints loose and inspects himself. "Uck!" he says out loud (without the 'f'). No broken bones. His pressure suit can take his blood pressure. 116/81, pulse 112, blood oxygen 99 reads off on his left arm, I'll friggin' take it!
The ship is amazingly intact from what he can tell. He can't get any readings. The systems test meter seems to be working, but can't find any voltages anywhere. The ship seems to be completely dead. Behind him, 10 passenger seats are all surrounded by airbags and the back of the cabin ends in some sort of dirt-and-gravel and there's a bit of daylight seeping in around the edges. He was the only one on board, though, so their deployment was mostly academic (they might have stiffened the structure a little during the crash, but that's probably trivial.) Tightniks gets out of his spacesuit. The air on this planet is actually breathable. He gets the hatch open, steps outside and-
"A green shimmer erupts then disappears, and you hit the ground."
The human emerges from the glowing green mist and hits the ground. Groans. Pushes against that ground, trying to get back up. Where am I? What's my name? I remember nothing. Aren't babies born naked? He's got a dark blue button-down shirt on. A uniform? A shoulder patch. Gets up, looks around. I feel really heavy. I'm not that fat, am I? He picks up a small stone from the ground, this also feels heavier than it should. He rises to his feet and holds it out somewhat (he's unable to fully extend his arm) and lets it go. The stone hits the ground near his feet quickly and with remarkable speed. It's the gravity, it's greater than it is on- ...where am I from? This is- ...not my home planet? "Oooh..."
"Ka?" it says.
What is that? It's cute, at least.
It is not tame. He has no hope of catching it on foot. The creature seems to like the berries. Maybe if I gather some of those into one place and set some kind of trap...
33s: First trap.
I got one! The human lumbers up to the trap and gets the catch open. Do you bite? It doesn't matter much to me; I'm so friggin' screwed.
It doesn't. It looks at the human with a sense of wonder, actually. A blink and tilt of the head. Seems almost to be asking, Is it you? My purpose? My savior? Once out of the trap, which is totally wrecked, he has to make a new one from scratch, it follows him around like a imprinted hatchling bird.
Wiry little fella, you are. You're going to need some bulking up to do anything useful. The- ...'trimp', I guess... The trimp seems just barely able to feed itself. The human lets him into the broken ship's intact cabin, and it curls up comfortably in a passenger seat for a nap.
1m03s: Second trap.
"Apparently the Trimps breed if they're not working. Doesn't look pleasant."
What are they doing?
The trimps appear to be androgynous, and these two have paired off in the back of the ship. They're holding something carefully within a few hours, feeding it berries, grass, and- ...corundum.
Corundum?? Whatever that is, it isn't a baby.
1m35s: Third trap.
Only it IS a baby! The third trimp he trapped immediately joined the other two in raising it. They have a strange diet of food the human has found compatible with his own body, but they also eat rocks! They're careful to crush and sort aluminate minerals from silcate ones and only eat aluminate. Actually, they don't eat aluminate, they're only feeding it to the baby.
2m06s: Fourth trap.
All four are raising the same child, who is just starting to toddle. It seems these fellas have alumina or maybe even aluminum bones. The human takes a nap and wakes to find the first child grown up and they're starting to raise a second child, all five of them.
2m46s: Huts.
The human found a working bit of electronics. He calls it a pad, but maybe it's more like a smartphone. It has plans for two residential structures. The first, the smaller one, he can build right away, but the second one needs something called "drywall", and he has to figure out how to make that before he can build it. Huts and houses, apparently.
3m13s: 10 pop, full, first farmer.
The trimp he trained to farm and make paper took an incredible 50 units of food to get bulked up to do the work, and now it's not participating in rearing the child. But less than an hour after the trimp started farming and pulping, the child was out on its own, and the trimps did not start another. The ten seats on the ship were all full. Well, eleven counting the one up front that the human sleeps in. The pilot starts exploring the area.
3m28s: Battle.
Wait, what are you do-
The hostile roars and charges at the human, but one of his trimps jumps in front of him with a stick and they fight. It started right when the human got far enough away from the ship that the hostile non-trimps away from the ship began to regard him as leaving his own territory. After the trimp defeats the first enemy, it continues after other hostiles.
3m53s: Shield I in Z1c5.
The human is easily able to recover the loot in the territory cleared by the fighting trimp. Then he sees something glinting in the- That can't be! What the heck is that? It's a data card that fits his pad. It quite clearly regards trimp combat. He gets it loaded into his pad and studies it. I can do this, it just takes some wood. He returns to the ship to discover that they had already started on a new child before the fighter had even expired in battle. The human concentrates on his research.
4m38s: Mskel in Z1c11 defeated.
The remains of this one seem rather white and shiny. It's titanium! This enemy had titanium bones! He'll store them away. They'll be useful someday, I'm sure.
5m52s: Dagger I in Z1c20.
Where are these data cards coming from? The human wonders as he loads this one into his pad, It's for a weapon it calls a dagger. He blinks. I don't know what a dagger is. I'll take your word for it, data card. Needs metal. He has gathered some, but ore is plentiful. He can just dig and smelt it whenever he wants. For now, I'll continue researching.
6m18s: Arable in Z1c21.
It's an old cave that trimps like to live in. Why weren't they able to live there before? How could these friendly critters be confined to only the exact spot where THAT thing, he looks back where he came from, not remembering that he piloted the wrecked ship to its current resting place, crashed? This is really strange. I'll let them fill up this cave before advancing further. Wait, what about defenses? The hostiles never try to reclaim territory that they've lost, so he stops worrying about that fairly quickly.
8m22s: First hut is 0.3% first ever AP.
The trimps seem fairly easy to please in terms of living quarters. Two move into his first hut and start raising a child. The human has his tent, uniform, and the heater pilfered from his space suit. Not much of a mud fan.
9m59s: Miners in Z1c30.
Oh, what's on this data card? Sl3niw? Oh, I'm holding the pad upside down. Miners. I can teach trimps how to mine ores and smelt met- 200 units of food? Each job is getting more expensive to train a trimp for. He puts his bee nickels to his eyes and spots another data card probably 10 enemies away. "Sc"? Does that means science? I can teach trimps to do science??
13m57s: Scientists in Z1c40.
Due to the expense of training trimps, the human couldn't afford to build them shields until now, he's got Sh1-3 made for the fighter to capture the science training data card. 14m02s: One head went into that turtlimp shell, that of his fighter, but two came out: his fighter still has his head on, and he managed to get the turtlimp's head off. It rushes off after the deadly penguimp in the next cell. The shields are not doing all that much good, actually, but they're better than nothing. The human picks up and loads the science data card and- Holy runny sugar-free fudge crap! 1000 food units, but it'll endow them with the ability to speak. Good. I'm getting bored with no one to talk to.
14m28s: Bloodlust purchased and AutoFight enabled (that delay after getting it is an effect of jacking up the job cost.)
As the human buries this expired little trimp warrior, he comes to the sobering realization that he has more trimp graves in his growing trimp colony than he does live trimps. And yet they seem more hopeful now than before I got to know any of them. They seem to think I'm the solution to all their problems or- Those two look east somberly, then notice that he's watching them and smile back and wave at him. ...one problem that is specific, but very, very huge for them. [The only reason I say 'east' is because that's right on a map, and the game advances right across a row, then up. I might say 'northeast' on occasion for that reason.]
20m47s: Z1c73, Miners taken.
Are you my new mining foreman? The trimp who took to the mining training has dark brown fur that lays flat on its head. It's unusual in not having any bits that stick out from its head, ahoge or whatever. This one is relatively quiet, and while it has assimilated the mining and smelting knowledge, it needs to bulk up to do any mining. Smelting is relatively easy, and getting a strong natural draft going in a furnace is almost trivial with the increased gravity. This trimp builds furnaces like nothing. And likes to nap in holes it digs right on the spot; it's weird that way. [Puchim@s Yukipo, and furnaces are not explicit in Trimps.]
21m58s: Farming in Z1c80.
The resourcing "books" are not data cards but paper scrolls, apparently lost to the trimps. It seems that they were civilized in the recent past and some calamity swept over the planet to reduce them to this. Did I have something to do with it? Amnesia sucks harder than a Dyson- ...what's a Dyson? Whatever, it sucks. This disaster happening just before I crash in the only spot with trimps still alive would be a seriously crazy coincidence! Something is really, really wrong about all this. [The author has not sought or received product placement permission or fee from Dyson Technology Ltd. or any resellers of their stuff, just they literally suck balls and made my favorite vacuum cleaner.]
23m50s: Builder in Z1c90.
They've rescued an, I dunno, gelding trimp? It just started to build a shed around the piled lumber I left to build one. It's really slow compared to me, and just banged its thumb, but it is super cute with that long reddish head fur. That particular trimp is also fascinated with pink ribbons and likes to decorate its head fur with them. Because of its inherent inability to participate in rearing children, it isn't counted in the population. [Puchim@s Io, builder on the basis of Iori seen building in 1x10.]
26m02s: Zone 2, 44 pop, 5.5s RC with Z0/1.
It's some sort of tactical manual - tactical coordination. Coordination! He's starting to sort out some trimpese on the research he has done so far. It needs a lot of metal, so they won't be able to implement it for some time. Hopefully, they're still good one at a time, but these enemies seem to be getting bigger as we go along. Uh oh!
27m33s: Gym in Z2c5.
It's some sort of training dojo or sporting arena. The human examines the ruins, I think I can back-engineer drawings for this, get one built, and see what happens.
29m02s: 1g, 47 pop, 10.8s RC with Z1/2.
The two fighting trimps now with their gym and coordination are dodging and blocking enthusiastically, and making much faster ground against the bad guys then a little while ago when it was just one trimp fighting at a time and unable to avoid the enemy hitting back.
40m46s: Fresh turkimp in Z2c74, 63 pop, 7.9s RC, Sh1-10, Da1-5, Bo1-3, Ma1-3, Hm1-3, 6g.
Oh, wow, the laborers seem really hot after this turkimp. He cooks it up and tries a slice. It's really awesome! I have to work alongside his laboring trimps to share it, but I'm getting used to the gravity now. That scroll we found back in Z2c10 really helped. Trimps' techniques and appliances for handicapped individuals, and I'm really handicapped in this higher gravity. He joins the woodcutters with the turkimp; they're the most numerous resource laborer right now, building more gyms, enough that the block/dodge ability of the fighting trimps is almost caught up to the enemy's ability to cause damage.
43m15s: Zone 3, 63 pop, 7.9s RC with Z1/2.
I'm neglecting my science and trimp scientists are really expensive. Curiously, that grey-haired one can't speak all that well, only says "Tai" and "Shijou", but it can write and draw like nobody's business. It's the only scientist so far. [Puchim@s Takanya: Online references probably still claim that she can utter the first two syllables of any word, but she can actually utter only the first two kana syllables of someone's name, most often the given name of basis human Takane Shijou, who also has that habit. (All the utterances of the puchidoru are based on the speech foibles of their basis humans except maybe Piyopiyo, where I haven't seen anything match up so far.)]
47m32s: Finally, we can make drywall and houses. 59m30s: Z3c77, 94 pop, 7.8s RC.
Oh, those poor things are really struggling up at the front. These trimps are enthusiastic and know no fear, but I still feel like telling them to stop for a while. I don't have the heart to keep them from trying while they're still doing some damage.
1h05m24s: Zone 4, 107 pop, 9.3s RC with Z3/4. 1h15m26s: Zone 5, 120 pop, 8.2s RC with Z3/4.
"What is that?" the human asks. He has three scientists. His first does all the writing, but the other two can actually speak. One of them hops up on a rock spire beside the human to reach his eye level.
At the next ridge line, over the lowest and most passable gap in the terrain, this really mean looking hovering sausage monster.
"I dunno," the scientist trimp shrugs, "But it's making me hungry. Looks like a perfectly cooked frankfurter from here." [John Morell's dubious dirigibles.]
"Oh, yeah," the human nods, "that's a blimp."
"A blimp?" the trimp tilts its head quizzically at the human, "How could you know?"
"I wish I could tell you, little buddy," the human extends his arm braces to descend the pass on the side of the zone boundary in the boss enemy's direction, then grunts, "Let's go kill it."
1h16m11s: Z1c9, 120 pop, 10.3s RC with Z4/5. 1h33m34s: Zone 6, 151 pop, 7.4s RC with Z4/5.
1h33m54s: TP in Z1c3.
"What's this?" the human asks, having picked up the little square document with the curling corners.
"Oh," the hungry scientist looks at it, "It's a garden path, follow me."
"You want to lead me down the garden path?" the human says.
"Yeah," the scientist says.
"Are you kidding?" the human asks.
"No," says the other scientist, "We don't get human humor. Listen, these fighters can't go, let them wear themselves out here, then we'll take the next group through this garden."
"Okay," the human nods, watching two more trimps join the fray as he issues the Z5 coordination orders, "they're doing pretty well after all that block training research we just wrapped up." [That's a common artifact, even in normal games, Z5 Traintacular combines with many gyms, enough population to add several trainers, affording Blockmaster, which is expensive on a run zero, plus a break on Tion Z5, a 40% all-stat increase. I don't think Zach designed it into the game on purpose, it just worked out this way.]
1h34m07s: 151 pop, 10.5s RC with Z5/7. 1h37m44s: Drop from Z6c39, TP for 3.
"Now we have these access map frags we can use to route through the old trimpopoli," the scientist explains, "Atlimpis for food, Morimpa for gems, Everimp for metal, and Impazon for wood."
"What about the garden?" the human asks.
"Well, we got lucky with Tricky Paradise," the scientist says, "but you can randomize the route and maybe get lucky. What's with that look?"
"Somehow, I'm remembering 'frag' as something that blew up with deadly pieces," the human says. [Different video games - ones with better graphics and worse gameplay Ｏ(>▽<)Ｏ]
1h39m59s: Blues back up to the top on series I...
"Tai, Tai!" the first ever trimp scientist stops the human just before he upgrades the mace and dagger to Mk.6 and Mk. 8 respectively. It has a note for him.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" the human asks, "Do you think that's my name?"
"Shijou, Shijou," it nods as though to indicate, I KNOW it is. Then it proffers its note again. The human takes it and reads, "Don't upgrade the first row equipment right now."
"Why not?" the human asks.
"Shijou," it points at the end of the mapped route, where there's a scroll sticking out of the thistles.
2h24m07s: Zone 8, 224 pop, 12.2s RC with Z7/12.
"Your settlement is getting crowded, there's Trimps in the streets, and you're taking heat. You feel a sudden strong desire to create a map, though you're not quite sure how that would help."
2h49m10s: Zone 9, 357 pop, 9.5s RC with Z8/15.
"You can't shake the feeling that you've been here before. Déjà-vu?"
The trimps really seem to like the new high capacity mansions, and the village has rapidly expanded since they started building them.
"There's something familiar about this," the human says.
"Tai," the grey one that writes clings to his arm and shows him a note that says, "Don't give up now."
"We must persist," says the yellow one has found a foothold it can grab onto and grabs the human's shoulder gently, "If you give up to early, we'll never solve this. You'll be stuck here forever."
The human puts his hand over the trimp's paw on his shoulders, then looks at him, "I can die, too."
"No, you can't," the trimp says quietly, "Please don't test that, tall one."
"Death is just another path..." he remembers.
"Gan," the grey one squeaks. [That's the first two kana syllables of "Gandalf"]
"...one that we all must take," the human continues, "The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it-"
"A green mist," the yellow trimp interrupts, "flash of fire, we're all gone and our progress forgotten. The wandering stars return to that day, and you again crash that ship- ...a little better every time."
"Wait," the human looks around, "have I been here before?"
"I-" the yellow trimp tries in futility to share what little it knows, "...or... somebody got just a little coolant into the-"
"Into the what?"
"This side up," the grey one's note says.
"Into the that," the yellow one points at the note, "It really helped. You- ...I don't think we've ever had mansions before."
Well, of course they didn't have mansions before. That was one of my ship's data cards. How did it get way out here? Will anything start to make sense?
3h02m13s: Zone 10, 387 pop, 8.7s RC with Z8/15; '28s: 11.1s RC with Z9/19. 3h16m41s: Tough snimp after food book, L10 rand dept from lo-hi-med 118/25/96, 4 Items.
"That's twice our frags led us to gem-rich Moria," the human says.
"Morimpa," the new red trimp scientist corrects, there now being 5 scientists. [There'd be more if there were more turkimp.]
"The question is how do we use all these gems?" the human looks at the village zoning plans again, "I like those mansions and all, but they use hardly any gems compared to, well-" he gestures at the pile of over two dozen thousand gems they've gathered, "-that! And still a lot of wood and lumber."
"I think there's something," the yellow one sighs, "I wish I knew more."
Quite some time later, after they're done looting that route for equipment plans, the trimps are again advancing through Zone 10, and he hears it.
"Tai?" the grey one wonders.
"Where are you going?" the yellow one asks.
"To the farm," the human answers.
"Whatever for?" the red one seems exasperated.
"Shijou?" the grey one sighs, then looks at the fighting front. It's been around long enough to remember, "Shijou!"
"You guys already get so much to eat this doesn't do you much good," the human explains.
3h32m33s: L11 112/35/78 rand sea, dropped from Z11c6 with disband, 4.
"What's wrong?" the red one asks.
The human comforts one of the wounded. Once trimps start into a zone fight, they have to finish before they bleed out. He's really bothered making them desert in front of that second turkimp. "They had a lot left in them," he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "but we can't keep that much dead turkimp at once, we have to leave it alive to use up all of this one."
"Shijou," the grey one presents a note, "We need this map right away, anyway. Don't worry about it, Tightniks."
"Tightniks?" he looks at the grey one, "Is that me? How do you know?"
"Tai," the grey one points at the top of the human's left breast pocket.
"Ah, crud," the yellow one curls its tail around in front of itself as trimps do when they're embarrassed, "Is that really a name tag?"
The human hadn't even noticed it since the green flash blew up his memory as he was stepping out of the ship.
4h04m22s: Block (sub-8h AP is only 0.3%), taking it, 504 pop, 9.8s RC with Z10/24.
It's a pretty thick book about using shields for block instead of hit points. The pad has the stats analysis. Sh3-1 is only giving us 9% of our hit points. Turning to his trimp scientists, he says, "It seems to me to be worth it."
"Let's," the yellow one nods.
"Shijou," it hands him a note, "It scales badly, but that won't matter for a long time. I think there's a way to undo it before it matters."
"Doing it." The human takes out his pad and starts scanning.
4h29m05s: L14 rand moun 137/26/80 is really good for a lo-hi-med. 4h30m52s: Hotels.
"Ah," the yellow one says, "I knew there was something. That must be it."
5h08m09s: L15 lo-hi-hi rand gard 129/28/82 (just got explorers). 5h09m32s: Picked up Wall.
"Dam," the human says.
"Damn?" the red one chuckles.
"No," the human says, "Earthen wall dam; it's a thing that makes artificial lakes by holding rivers back."
"Lakes?" the yellow one asks, "Rivers?"
"Oh yeah," the human says, "This planet doesn't have enough rain for those..."
5h48m21: Leaving Wall from about c70 to fetch Tion Z15.
"You can't resume the map from the same point if you start another," the human reads the grey one's note.
"We can go back to the same point on that route if we hold there and finish Zone 15, right?" Tightniks asks.
"Shijou!" it seems to be saying yes.
"Yes," the yellow one adds, "but we're out of Series III upgrades, and you need a fresh map route to start up Series IV."
"We should be okay," Tightniks says, "but if we have to start it over, I don't see that being a big deal." As they advance through the rest of Zone 15, Tightniks resumes his usual duties at the research desk instead building and running traps like he was before.
The trimps seem hopeful at this decision.
5h49m10s: Fresh turkimp. 5h50m16s: Zone 16, 1071 pop, 13.4s RC with Z15/75, 13m43s turkimp (skel in c1.)
"Z:16 Seriously? Another Blimp so soon?"
"So," Tightniks lowers his bee nickels and looks at the red one, "is it going to be boss fights at the end of every zone from now on?"
"Hmm," the red trimp looks up past the human at some random rock spire or cloud.
"Well?" the human persists.
"Yup," he says.
"Hmph," Tightniks grabs a Sw3-1 of the rack and advances towards the front, "Before then, we have another Mister Titanium."
"What does he like about skeletimps?" the red one asks the grey one as the human marches off.
"Shijou?" the grey one seems just as confused by that.
"He's not going back to the ship, and he's not getting himself killed," the yellow one smiles, "so I'll take it."
5h58m32s...
"Hey guys, go for the mortar!" the human suggests to his 75 fighting trimps in the Wall's boss fight.
"I can tell from your bedtime stories that you're used to the artillery in that other place," the yellow one gripes, "but fighting works differently here, there's no artillery."
And the human instantly collapses laughing, the scientists a little worried he might have injured himself in the planet's severe gravity. But he's okay, at least physically, "Mortar is the stuff between the bricks, fellas. That's is a brickimp, right?"
5h59m18s: Wall, 1076 pop, 13.3s RC, 1% AP for sub-8h finish, first L16 roll good 156/35/84 moun, 10 for the metal.
Beyond the Wall was a more edenic section of the trimpolis ruins, doubling the production of the lumberjacks. The trimps are actually really happy with the mode of all of the laborers moving between the three big jobs, along with the turkimp, except for the foremen specialized at leading the job. It isn't enough to boost their productivity, but the human goes to them with trays of sandwiches.
6h06m52s: 50 map run 0.3% AP...
6h19m13s: Zone 17, 1141 pop, 16.0s RC with Z16/94, no turkimp.
"Z:17 You climb a large cliff and look out over the new Zone. Red dirt, scorched ground, and devastation. Is that a Dragimp flying around out there?!"
"Hmm," the human surveys the new zone with his bee nickels, "Looks like crap. Any ideas?"
"You're the idea man," the yellow one groans.
"Set the map flag," he puts his bee nickels away, "We'll run a depth for practice and to load up on gems for more hotels."
"Righto," the red one gets to work.
6h44m34s: First DCP. (Draglimp Care Package; I refuse to call it a tribute.)
"Oh," the human says, "It's tame now, so it brings back gems in exchange for food?" He looks at his gaping scientists, "That's what it looks like, huh? Guys? Yo!"
"Tai..." the grey one sighs.
Draglimp, the dragimp imprinted on Tightniks, lands beside the human, drops some gems at his feet, and accepts some scratching behind its horns before diving into the food bowl.
"You tamed a dragimp???" Grey's note says.
"Well," the yellow one huffs, "I guess that happened."
8h18m53s: L20 depth of 154/27/79.
"Mapping up here?" the red one half closes one eye and tilts his head.
"Yeah," the human says while fitting together the depth map fragments, "With the coordination book not right at the end, we have an extra mark of coordination to take advantage of. Let's take our housing up to 2000 or so, shall we?"
"Okay," the yellow one says from a pile of logs, "What's all the wood for?" They had been collecting it for days now.
"The series upgrades follow a rather specific pattern," Tightniks explains, "Just on the other side of this blimp is Zone 21, where we should be able to find the Shield series V, right?"
"Shijou!" the grey one nods.
8h56m17s: 1% AP for 100 map runs, leaving it, 1751 pop, 24.8s RC with Z20/232. 8h56m54s: Zone 21...
"Ooooookay," Tightniks growls, "There is something off about this thing."
"Shijou?" the grey one looks at the yellow one with concern about their human starship pilot friend.
The human stoops, picks up the little green gem on the ridge between Zone 20 and 21, looks at it, huffs, and asks, "Any idea where this comes from?"
"Err..." the red one seems hesitant to say, "I think you made it."
"Really?" the human huffs, "How could that be?" Then he tosses it at Red, "See if anything reacts to it. It might be radioactive, so we should take turns to minimize exposure."
"Really?" Red's holding it now, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm pissed off for no reason I can figure out," the human says, "I think it's coming from that."
"Frags," the red one says quickly, "I think it's arranging a route. You're good with maps," it tosses the gem to the grey scientist.
"Shijou," the grey one says hopefully, and has a map drawn within a few minutes. [Whether it looks like the one in Puchim@s 1x61 is anyone's guess. That one annoyed me as well as Chihya.]
9h02m37s: L21 moun first roll was a decent 160/26/84. 9h21m00s: Starting run 5 of that map...
Tightniks had taken his anger out on some food and wood to build about 8000 traps. Now he's leaning against a rock spire in his increasingly tattered uniform. A nap begins, perhaps unintentionally.
Wild trimps are examining the pile, finding it unwelcoming, and also finding no place in the town, just mill about. It looks like they want to help.
"Ku?" it's a blue trimp, probably a farmer waiting for stuff to grow, climbs up on the rock spire the human is leaning against, starts patting him on the head, "Ku. Ku ku." [Puchim@s Chihya.]
9h23m09s: Still working that lap...
Tightniks wakes up from that nap, and the grey one is standing there. "Shijou," it says with a note of concern, although not much of one. The note it holds says, "It wasn't me."
"Oh, what wasn't you, buddy?" He stretches out a bit, feeling somewhat refreshed. It feels like somebody washed his face and hair while he was sleeping.
The grey one is also holding a small mirror, apparently broken off from a larger mirror and with the sharp edges filed down to make the edges safe.
The human takes it from the grey trimp and holds it in front of his face to discover that somebody has bound up all his hair into about twenty little pigtails. He touches them with his other hand to confirm. "Eh, whatever." He hands the mirror back and goes back to sleep. [Puchim@s Koamimami.]
9h30m08s: The following run...
"He's not throwing stuff every which way yet," the yellow one whispers to the red one, watching the human snoozing with his pad on his knee.
"You remember that, too?" the red one asks.
"'Remember'?" the yellow one turns to face the red one, "I s'pose that's better than imagining it."
"I remember it, too," the grey one says via a playing card sized note.
"If we're stuck in a time loop," the yellow one sighs, "maybe this cycle will be different."
"Tai..." the grey one admires him for a moment. Then thumbs in the direction of the mountain, "Heh, Shijou!" it laughs.
9h35m58s: Run 8, c9 of that map.
The scientists nap and take notes, and meditate and take notes, and draw stuff. The grey one often storyboards for the other nine because it's the best at drawing stuff. They have come up with a list, and most probably "order" (they're debating whether their ranking means "order" (sequence of things happening over the various loops) or "frequency" (what proportion of previous loops they have happened in). But they've come up with this, from first (or perhaps most often) to most recent (or perhaps least often):
- The ship crashes (they're pretty sure that happens every loop) - The human builds huts - The human teaches some of his trimps to speak and do science - The human builds houses - The human makes maps - The human builds mansions - The human blows up and gets himself killed somewhere around Z17 to Z21, often on a dragimp - The human only recently/occasionally builds hotels - The human only recently/rarely tamed a dragimp - The human only recently/rarely maps the Dimension of Anger
They're all agreed that that they have never finished the Dimension of Anger. What they are not all agreed on is that they've never done this conference to figure out whether they're in a time loop or what that might mean. [See also Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Cause and Effect" ...which was sort of a time loop but they weren't going back in time. It's very interesting, but its meta makes no sense - no one ever went looking for the Bozeman in 80 years? No one who went looking for the Bozeman also got stuck? No one noticed the passage of time outside the little area of space where the not-quite-a-time-loop was happening? Errr... sci-fi writers, don't be half-assed about your time loops, lmao! Be like Harold Ramis- ...what am I saying?? (That would be Groundhog Day, which grafted a time loop into a romcom; there are no other sci-fi elements. But it was a full-blown time loop and not half-assed like "Cause and Effect".)]
9h54m06s: Dropped from Z21c95...
I think it would be a bad idea to bypass that green area, as much as I'd rather not face it. Both his domesticated trimps, which are breeding up a new group of fighters, and the wild trimps he has decided just now not to open the traps for, stare at him and point in that direction. He shoulders a huge Shield V-3 and grabs an Mace IV-2 as well and announces, "We're doing it." Thus equipped, he marches off into the Dimension of Anger.
10h27m53s: Taking Pi4-2; recently had taken Pa4-2...
The group at the front had expired, and the snimp in DoAc95 glares at the advancing colony of trimps, which had halted only because of it. It refuses to counterattack the vulnerable colony and its human, instead snorting and huffing, waiting for the next bunch of 232 fighting trimps to come in range.
Tightniks runs along the line of traps, releasing the recently tamed trimps, singing a song that he doesn't remember the meaning of, that he doesn't remember was crafted by an ethnically Chinese guy out of an African language, and later mastered by two caucasians over the internet before they ever met in person. "Baba yetu yetu uliye, mbinguni yetu yetu amina..." because it just happened to be stuck in his head. [Because the Doylian author decided on a whim to. Christopher Tin got it into Civilization IV and at the time (2010 July), I made the best video for it on YouTube, which got subsequently blown to shreds when Peter Hollens and Malukah re-recorded the song from scratch in their own voices and instruments in 2014, pity with no English translation, the purpose of my video.]
Noticing the last batch of metal he needs coming out of the furnace, he waves the waiting grey scientist to fire up the forge [to use the term properly and not as the game does], for it was time to wrap up the forging dies for the Spetum IV, Mark 2 pike heads.
"Shijou!" the grey one cheers, setting aside a snack that looks like maybe ramen, and starts jumping up and down on the bellows handle.
It takes a while for the human to chip out the tip in the two halves of the forging die, and then polish it, and then heat it up in the forge, and then quench it, inspect it, and put it into service crafting thousands of new pike heads for the fighting trimps.
But only one second passed on the map frame clock (10h27m54s) four cells behind that snimp, in the case being brooded over by this huge, and if it's honest, rather concerned megablimp.
10h35m45: Portal PB, 45 He, 4.247 He/hr, 1891 pop, 22.7s RC with Z20/232, no turkimp.
The last head of the map's boss monster goes limp as one of the fighting trimps' mace heads bounces of it, and the huge thing settles on its tail, resting on the package that seems to be the prize of this map. And there's a popping sound, and then something mechanical.
Is that a scroll compressor? Tightniks looks at the package. The deflating monster's lifting envelope material drapes over everything underneath it. "Red, Shijou!" he snaps and points, "roll up that side of it. Keep this part from sucking down on the extractor nozzle!"
All ten of the scientists jump in, literally, pushing the gas in the bag towards the compressor. Tightniks as well, rolling up the front.
Until he kicks, and nearly trips over, a smaller package that might be the explanation for the reason why the center of the monster's defense seemed to be a little away from the big package he could see. It's in the right place, he realizes. He gets it uncovered and reads stenciled-and-sprayed block letters on it:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE DOWN"
Perhaps the Dimension of Anger is so named because of the rage suddenly rising up in Tightniks' throat. It isn't so much as the free-floating aggression suddenly has an answer, there is definitely a fresh batch of rage and anger as he grips the nearest Mace IV, Mark 3 with both hands and gets it over his shoulder, its target obviously this object, anger at the realization he screams at the top of his lungs, "We are stuck in a mutha FAH-king time loop!!" His swing begins. [Tightniks almost never cusses, unlike Snugniks.]

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 239: Standing Start
A wine bottle rolled against the side of my boot.
Amidst a gallery of stunned faces and open mouths, it was easily the second most lively thing here.
The first was a clockwork doll clutching at her stomach in pain.
“Ahahahha~ ahahaha~ ahah … uck … ack … ughh … ahahaha~”
I pursed my lips.
Still, I said nothing.
For one thing, this was precisely what happened when one ate the mouldy cinnamon rolls combined with any grass growing by the side of the road. If Apple refused to eat something, then so should she.
But for another–
“What … What is this … ?”
It was because the first response was reserved for the baroness.
Her words came out in a quivering tone, matching the disbelief upon her face.
Frankly, she had to do better than that.
Only the wine from the bottle I nudged away dribbled into the soil. And also the line of drool from a comatose farmer. But I didn’t want to think about that.
Still, it was an excellent benchmark. Until her tears could properly overpower the sour aroma from the Château de Riaré Hensoise, I would deem her bawling to be incomplete.
She had a long way to go.
“How … How are you still …” she began, slowly rising from her seat. “This … This is impossible–”
I offered a tidy smile alongside a flick of my hair, relishing in the moonlight adorning my figure.
“I agree. It shouldn’t be possible. But I assure you, my skin is 100% natural.”
“E-Excuse me … ?”
“No magical enchantments. No unicorn elixirs. No witchly glamors. Just a healthy sleep schedule of however many hours I desire and a diet of fresh strawberry shortcakes.”
The baroness mouthed silently at my secrets being revealed.
A strange way of offering her gratitude. Other princesses hounded my door for this knowledge. Given her pale, blotchy skin and lips as dry as a pond in a desert, she should be pleading for more.
Instead, she pointed at the fallen drunk beside us.
“This … This shouldn’t be possible … no, wait … the clockwork doll … did she–”
She suddenly snapped towards Coppelia, her eyes widening.
“Uuh … ahaha … ugh, it hurts ... ahaha … it hurts so much … ahaha … my tummy … aha … oh no … I’m … I’m seeing daisies … aha … I … ugh … I think I need help …”
Coppelia hugged her stomach, writhing like a freshly hatched caterpillar. Her eyes darkened as hiccups of laughter assailed her defeated form.
The baroness pursed her lips.
Then, she turned to Renise instead.
“Did you–”
“A-Amazing! … I … I have no idea what you did … but it wasn’t just wonderful … it was beautiful! The colours! The warmth! It was like a rainbow come to life!”
With a smile worthy of any attendant, the maid brought her hands together in polite applause. Naturally, to be praised for my brushwork was nothing new to me. Nor was the sight of stars shining in her eyes with greater brightness than any in the night sky.
Why, that even came whenever I left my bedroom.
“You … how did … how did you defeat him … ?”
The strands of the baroness’s golden hair began to frizzle as she turned towards me. All I saw were her tonsils. Bright red and healthy. She should be pleased.
“This was … this was no common man … do you know who he is … ?”
Without offering a chance to ignore her, she stamped a foot, pointing at the fallen drunk with maddened jabs. The man offered no defence, now as spent and drained as the bottle beside him.
I raised a brow.
“Indeed, I do. He’s a farmer who made poor life choices. And between leaving his farm and offering his pitchfork to an overly ambitious baroness, the greater was you. My congratulations on being the superior mistake. I acknowledge your triumph.”
Bwam.
The baroness promptly slapped her palms down on the table.
“This man … is Willem of Hagel,” she said, her teeth gritted together. “A man desperate and cursed.”
“Yes, well, to be a peasant is a dire thing. But it could be worse. At least he isn’t nobility.”
A mouth further widened before me.
Indeed, this was a terrible time to realise her affliction. But I was no famed angel of healing for nothing. There was a cure for ambition. And it involved copious amounts of tears.
I was still waiting.
“There is no world in which you should have been able to defeat him … not if half the tales about him prove true … he is a famed opponent … all the while you are … you are …”
Suddenly, her eyes left my face for the very first time.
No longer feeling that my cheeks were in danger of being poked, she swept her eyes upon my person, as though hoping to find some blemish to signify I was as false as a field of corn.
She stopped at the sword by my side.
And also–
“A copper ring,” she said softly.
Suddenly, my 29th house of cards I was subtly constructing collapsed.
… T-The ring!
The blot on my finger! The insidious badge of shame! The symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild!
Why, I’d taken it for granted that my masterful disguise was impervious! But this was no ordinary noblewoman I was seated across!
This … This was one I’d previously sat across before!
I’d made a terrible mistake!
I was mesmerising! A beautiful princess as charming as I was modest!
There was utterly no scenario in which I’d be forgotten!
I … I should have removed the copper ring!
“O-Oho … ohoho … w-what copper ring?” I said, my hands vanishing below the table at a speed con artists could only nod at. “Ah, do you refer to the ruby inlaid ring I often carry on my hand? The one which changes colour depending on the longitude and latitude? In that case, you may very well have briefly spied something which resembled a copper hue. But it is in fact a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Not a disgraceful copper ring.”
The baroness slowly looked up at me, her eyes blinking.
“No. I wasn’t mistaken. I … I recognise that ring. It is a copper ring, the same size and shape as those worn by … adventurers.”
My mouth widened in horror.
At once, I immediately sought a plant pot or a heavy book. Something to immediately erase the past few seconds of her memory.
Why … if she knew my secret, then the shame would haunt me all the way until I’d found something weighing at least equivalent to a standard hardback!
“I see,” she mumbled, as much to herself as me. “I understand now …”
The baroness removed her palms from the table.
She stood up straight, a hard expression upon her face. One which calculated with each passing moment the optimal way to exploit this devastating information.
Then, she took in a deep breath–just as I began assembling the playing cards into a thick pile.
“… it must be a legendary artifact.”
As I began eyeing her temple … I blinked in non-understanding.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded, her frown harsh enough to permanently crease her skin.
“To wear such a plain, ugly and shameful ring … one which utterly demeans your history, your worth and your pride, destroying any semblance of dignity you possess–”
My hand went to my stomach, struck by as much pain as Coppelia had experienced in a single moment.
“–indeed, to wear a ring so easily mistaken as one belonging to adventurers, the vermin of the world … it must be a truly terrifying artifact.”
I blinked.
And then–
“Ohhho … ohoohho! You … You see the truth of it!”
The baroness squeezed her fists by her side.
“I knew it.”
I nodded, my bangs bouncing against my forehead.
“I-Indeed … ! This ring I carry on me … it is a masterful item of supreme quality, passed down along generations of my family! Why, its appearance matching those of rings worn by adventurers is no coincidence! Theirs are based on this very design! Although they have since tarnished it, it was forged back in the first days of the kingdom when copper was greater than gold! Poured within it is knowledge now lost to time! A power beyond compare, called upon from the depths of the Royal Vault!”
The baroness sucked in a hateful breath.
“Then that explains it,” she said with bitterness ringing throughout her voice. “You were able to defeat such a powerful adversary through the use of your family’s ancient heirlooms.”
“Indeed, this powerful ring with a rare ability I cannot disclose defeated a terrifying farmer! Therefore, there’s no need for you to relay any suggestion that I’m anything but a princess, as far removed from the Adventurer’s Guild as hygiene is to their members!”
The baroness gave no response.
A respite which lasted far too short.
“... I see, then it means the plan continues. Different, yes. But I’ll not be deterred.”
She smiled, the familiar sight of aristocratic opportunism mixed with an utter denial of facts shining within her grey eyes.
I could only react with horror.
“Plan?” I replied, convinced she was well and truly several sandwiches short of a picnic. “Do you mean the plan currently lying in a fallen heap beside us? Did you not just say I defeated your farmer? Your only plan now is to decide which part of the ground you wish to offer your forehead to.”
The baroness shook her head with renewed confidence.
“I think not. To defeat Willem of Hagel, you must have expended every effort you had available. Not a crumb of power could be spared, for to underestimate him would have resulted in your certain loss. Meaning …”
Without hesitation, she gave a multipurpose wave of her hand.
“... You’ve nothing left but a sword you cannot wield, and two retainers against all of mine. One of whom is incapacitated. The other a maid.”
She continued to keep her hand raised. Her simple call to arms.
It took several moments before she cared to even look around her.
A sad thing.
If she had, she would have realised the curiosity of her hoodlums was less than their prudence.
She would have noticed the eyes without loyalty, seeing only the fallen figure of a drunk they’d been led to believe was more than a farmer now watering the ground with his drool.
And she would have noticed the state of her dress, as dishevelled as her ambitions as those she relied upon slinked away in search of newer gutters to inhabit, following instincts she could learn as the last of their feet shuffled into the darkness.
The baroness paled.
It was far too early for that. She had no idea Apple was currently resting in her tavern, and wouldn’t be helping her haul all of the goods which needed delivering to a place less damp than here.
But I could sooth her forthcoming backache with a smile, at least for the assistance already provided.
“You have my gratitude,” I said, brushing a speck of … countryside from my lap. “For so long as the nobility continues to concoct slapdash schemes with no hope of success, the kingdom can continue to assign blame on you when all else goes wrong. When the mobs come calling and heads start rolling, it ensures a steady queue of necks can be offered before ours are reached. That is why the nobility continues to exist, you see, despite the ceaseless treason. So allow me to offer a word of advice when next you wish to survive in a position of responsibility. When fleeing, the best defence isn’t to run faster–it’s to trip the person beside you. And this means better hiring practices.”
I glanced pointedly around me.
All this empty space and not even a single eyepatched second-in-command to use as a distraction? An amateur mistake. One the baroness now realised as her mouth opened wordlessly, the realisation of her solitude only now dawning upon her.
Yet all it invited was a newly wrought defiance.
“I do not mean to flee,” she said, her fists tightly clenched. “I am Arisa Sandholt. And even should I be captured here, you would not be afforded a night’s rest. I am not alone. Whether tonight or tomorrow, this kingdom will fall. I am not alone in planning its demise.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. Planning my kingdom’s demise is what everyone does.”
“What?”
“If it’s not being actively planned, it’s because someone’s in the middle of planning how to formulate a plan. And then once they’ve finished planning, they wonder why their plan didn’t work as planned. This is not a cause for concern. It’s a sign the world is still spinning the correct direction.”
The baroness feigned a dignified silence.
It was far too late, of course. By default, nobility had no dignity.
Still, I accepted the effort, and filled the silence with a tidy clap of my hands.
“Now, since you’ve no intention of fleeing, you can be useful instead. I’ll require a full inventory of your stock. I intend to requisition every single item you have in your possession. Every grain. Every crown. And every odd piece of tableware, carpet, candleholder and painting you might have.”
I pointed at the barn. A tragic thing to requisition. But if I was fortunate, it’d grow lacquered tiles and bay windows in the short steps between here and there.
Suddenly, the baroness’s eyes widened. The needless defiance dropped alarmingly from her face.
“Wait … what do you mean by that?”
I paused for a moment, puzzled by her reaction.
This was hardly the complicated part.
“I mean exactly what I mean. This should come as no surprise. I will be emptying every corner of the property you’ve misappropriated, including whatever manner of tunnels you’ve carved for your use. Rest assured, I’ll be employing the talents of my retainers extensively. With or without your cooperation, every single inch of your abode will be inspected by myself for the Royal Treasury’s benefit.”
She blinked between Renise and Coppelia. Although one was dressed as a maid and the other now appeared to be napping on the ground, their skills when it came to matters of unearthing valuables in my kingdom’s underbelly was not one I doubted.
Nor, from the way the baroness gulped, did she.
“I can do it,” she said suddenly.
I looked at her in confusion, uncertain what ploy this was.
“... Excuse me? Do what?”
“The items of value. I can bring them out. There’s no need to personally see to such a thing yourself.”
“While I’m in full agreement, I can hardly trust your reliability in this manner. And besides, I’ll hardly be playing the mule. I shall be supervising while closely assessing every item.”
Once more, the tonsils came out.
An appalling disregard of decorum. There was only one time that nobility was permitted to look so horrified in my presence. And that’s if they were copying my own after I discovered a list of marriage suitors posing as a napkin beneath the dessert spoon again.
“E-Even so … as the one who wronged you, I insist on not troubling a princess any further. If you give me a few moments, I can acquire the most important valuables for you in a fraction of the time you’d spend on finding them.”
“A few moments to hide them, you mean. No, I’m afraid that anything you wish to stuff beneath a floorboard will need to be appropriately examined first.”
I leaned away in mild alarm as a bead of sweat ran down the baroness’s face.
A moment later–
She finally did what only someone in her position could.
Adhering to the instincts of all nobility, she swept up her dress and suddenly dashed away.
Except it wasn’t towards the dark forest, to be lost amidst the shadows and the jaws of whatever awaited her there. It was back towards the barn.
I watched as she stumbled several times before even reaching the steps.
“... A desperate sight, no?” I said, with a sad shake of my head. “To throw away all semblance of the image she’d hoped to craft. Now she flees like a frightened towngirl. She should know that escape is now impossible.”
Beside me, Renise let out a hum.
Far from chasing after the baroness, she collected the pack of cards I’d assembled for memory wiping purposes. She began to build a house of cards.
I looked at her in puzzlement. She gave a strangely pained smile in reply.
“I believe we can offer her a few moments.”
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Heads-up, score = exp.

New mode is added where you face off against your mentor. Your mentor cannot be defeated. You have 15 minutes to land as many attacks as you can. The mode ends instantly if you are defeated.
Combos multiply your score when the run ends, and the multipliers stack. The first hit in a combo adds a 1.01 multiplier, growing by 0.01 for every following hit in the combo (a 100 hit combo, also known as a z combo, would have a 2.00 multiplier).
A “survival” multiplier exists for the run ending by time. This stacks with combo multipliers. The survival multiplier is based on what class test must be beaten for the mentor to offer their tutorship (I have no idea how many “mentor levels” there are, so let’s just say the survival multiplier goes up by 2.00 per “mentor level”).
I don’t know how score boosting souls work so I won’t use one in the example scenario. Also, title score boosts are deactivated (the words you get on results screen for fighting in certain ways). Every hit you land is worth 100 score.
Example scenario: you finish a run with mentor krillin with two Z combos and a 47 combo. This is 247 landed hits, netting you 24,700 score alone. You got a 2.47 total combo multiplier, adding 2.00 from the survival multiplier for a total multiplier of 3.47. You got 85,709 total score.
This new mode is called Sparring Session. It requires maxing out their first bond meter to parake. Participation adds to their dual ultimate bond meter less than just doing Infinite History DLC story missions, but more than just doing PQs.
Sorry if my math is off btw. I suck at math.

Heads-up, score = exp.

New mode is added where you face off against your mentor. Your mentor cannot be defeated. You have 15 minutes to land as many attacks as you can. The mode ends instantly if you are defeated.
Combos multiply your score when the run ends, and the multipliers stack. The first hit in a combo adds a 1.01 multiplier, growing by 0.01 for every following hit in the combo (a 100 hit combo, also known as a z combo, would have a 2.00 multiplier).
A “survival” multiplier exists for the run ending by time. This stacks with combo multipliers. The survival multiplier is based on what class test must be beaten for the mentor to offer their tutorship (I have no idea how many “mentor levels” there are, so let’s just say the survival multiplier goes up by 2.00 per “mentor level”).
I don’t know how score boosting souls work so I won’t use one in the example scenario. Also, title score boosts are deactivated (the words you get on results screen for fighting in certain ways). Every hit you land is worth 100 score.
Example scenario: you finish a run with mentor krillin with two Z combos and a 47 combo. This is 247 landed hits, netting you 24,700 score alone. You got a 2.47 total combo multiplier, adding 2.00 from the survival multiplier for a total multiplier of 3.47. You got 85,709 total score.
This new mode is called Sparring Session. It requires maxing out their first bond meter to parake. Participation adds to their dual ultimate bond meter less than just doing Infinite History DLC story missions, but more than just doing PQs.
Sorry if my math is off btw. I suck at math.

Just a couple disclaimers: Please be nice, Im already dealing with a difficult situation. Leaving my husband isn't an option, we believe that our daughter needs one set of parents. Thanks :)
My husband , daughter, and Inare currently living with my inlaws. Moving here was last resort and it took a lot of convincing from my husband. The plan was while living here, my husband and I both go to work, and save for a house. We'd have help with the baby and cheap rent. But now our plans have changed.
I have never had an easy relationship with my MIL. She is a very singular person. She has CPTSD, deals with chronic pain and is under tons fo restrictions from drs. She's a very strong and admirable woman. In a lot of ways I look up to her. But I've had my struggles with her. She can be overbearing and an oversharer. She is overly involved in things she doesn't need to be. She offers constant unsolicited advice. And I don't feel like I've ever has a conversation with her that didn't evolve into her talking about her trauma, old family drama, and all the times people offended her. And as much as I want to be understanding of the things she's experienced, I don't really feel like she wants to get to know me and is only treating me like a trashcan for her bad experiences.
I have tried to set boundaries. Im not a good communicator and so it was really difficult for me to sit down with her and discuss what I needed. It was necessary though, especially since I had just given birth to my daughter. I asked her to back off with all the info dumping and trauma dumping (in kinder words but that was the basic gist). And I asked for a couple of other things when it came to our baby. But not too much later, my SIL came after me and accused me of trying to take my child and use her as a pawn to hurt my MIL. (Situations where children were used to hurt people was something that happened in their family unfortunately). I was extremely upset about this and since then not a whole lot has changed. Maybe I just needed to push harder for my needs?
It may not seem like a big deal but this is something that has me particularly upset too. We aren't allowed to use their washer and dryer or our own laundry detergent. I regularly go without clean underwear and work clothes. And I get rashes from the detergents they use. Everytime I've brought this issue up im told that I'm being pushy and expecting too much of my MIL.
There are TONS of other experiences here that have left me pretty disheartened and hurt. I feel like our needs aren't given any kind of consideration.
I don't feel valued here. And my mental health has seriously started to decline. Im struggling to make it to work, be a good DIL be a good mom, be a good wife, and on top of all of that still find time to be good to me. I've been thinking a lot about what the next best course of action is for me and how I can have the space and privacy to work through what I'm feeling. And I came to the conclusion that I need to move out. Whether that was going home to my parents or finding an apartment.
I've always had the mentality that of "if you don't like it leave". It took a lot to convince my husband. It's not easy to tell your partner that their family is the reason you are struggling. It took a lot of tearful conversations. Im not very good at standing up for myself but this is something that I need, especially if I want to be a good mom for our baby.
My husband is particularly upset. He feels that I have not tried hard enough to make this plan work. And he's upset that we are having to change our plans. Especially since part of the plan was sending him to school once we built up some more savings.
But, we put in an application for a cheap apartment her in town. And today we got word that we got it and our move in date is this Friday. And we broke the news to my inlaws and everyone is upset.
They all have their opinions and reasons as to why we can't move. Why it's a bad idea. Why financially we wont be able to pull it off. Even things like how my husband's brother was going to aply for that specific apparment even though we didnt know he was. Im being told that this is a bad impulsive choice even though im prioritizing my mental health. Im having a hard time feeling happy about this move. I'm hoping that maybe by writing this all out maybe I'll get some reassurance that this is the right choice.
Sorry if this was confusing. If something needs clarification please ask. I need just as much help understanding my situation haha

Hey successful entrepreneurs, Mother's day is just passed and Father's day is around the corner. Here, i just input the keywords" Father's day" and filter by duration to see what are the evergreen things made for him. According to BigSpy's ad database, in the past 1 year, here we go Top 3 references👇

• Top 1 Abs Training Tips-Transformation Tools & Supplement

Fitness/workout is indeed an eternal topic, especially for male. The ads traning tips ad from jymsupplementscience has been running for already 12 years on Youtube, we can see that the huge market in finess zone. No matter what kind of traning tools or supplements you dropship, as long as you could gurantee the quantity, there is no worry about the sales.

• Top 2 Bedroom Furnitures-Drawers & Dresser Stands

The ad from barnfurnituremart is also an evergreen one lasting about 10 years on Youtube, considering the high cost of furnitures, for our dropship entrepreneurs, small furnitures along with warm-style pics will be a better choice for most people.

• Top 3 Online Gift Package

Different from the top 2 niches, this ad from pakgiftshop offers a new idea, it give combo gifts in package with a proper price. Flower, fruit, cake, cards... Just saving the time of customers to think. If you could find such dropship suppliers, this will a good and original choice. Besides, this ad has been running for 10 years on Youtube, no more words.
Above are the top 3 evergreen choices for reference, you can visit the stores mentioned to find more ideas about the niches. And it's interesting that almost top 20 niches with longest duration are Youtube ads, we can find that youtube ad is the best choice if you'd love to do long-term branding.
Have you ever tried youtube ads before?

Is it okay to have an abstract thesis based an argument prompt? When I finished the exam, I realized my idea of the argument was completely different than other people. I used a different definition of the same word in the prompt and made sense of the prompt using that same definition. The thing is, I try to explain my line of thinking in my essay. Will this simply get no points at all, or will the grader recognize my unique approach to the prompt?

I dont know how everyone else feels about this, but in my hub, it's becoming a popular idea to push for a boots/gloves allowance. Everyone says "Amazon gives everyone $110 for boots" and I honestly feel it's kind of ridiculous we haven't gotten this as well. Or maybe it's been tried in the past with not enough popularity.
For all my fellow part timers out there, spending money like that on an actual decent pair of boots isn't very feasible, especially for those with families. AND part timers need it the most as they handle the most packages in a day, handle more metals/irregular packages, and may not always have the disposable income to buy boots before working.
As for gloves, many people could take or leave these, but I appreciate the extra level of protection/grip they add. It would be nice having them available if anyone ever forgot personal gloves, and it would eliminate the need for us to buy our own gloves.
This company talks relentlessly about "safety" yet we arent always provided the necessary equipment to work safe. There's still plenty of time until the next contract, so if this sounds like a good idea for your hub, please spread the word. Have a good night brothers and sisters.

Guo Wengui has always defined his people as "saving China from fire and water" and "letting his comrades live a decent life" through Xi Farm, who knows there is a big conspiracy behind it. When it comes to farms, to borrow Mark Twain's phrase "The fragrance of earth, the pale colors of wildflowers, and the crackling of pecans and walnuts raining down on my head" is what most of us yearn for in a good life on a farm. However, the Himalayan farm in Guo Wengui's mouth, from the beginning to describe the scene as a general farm, to later say that "it is not to make money, the key is that comrades go to each country, have a safe platform that can be trusted for 24 hours and can be taken care of." After several years of Guo Wengui's mouth, a living farm was completely reduced to a "complete business organization." To complete the farm's series transformation to pave the way, Wengui only moved his lips, and his ultimate purpose is "to Himalayan farms around the country to start earning money from comrades." From September 2020, Guo Wengui said, "GDOLLAR is pegged to the US dollar, which is cash, and we have POS machines." Send to the global farm POS machine, local farm personnel responsible for promotion. Promotion success, excellent performance, will get a certain percentage and reward "began, Guo Wengui just put" circle money ants help, extract the last bit of surplus value "these words on the face. Indeed, on March 24, Wengui said again that there were 140 million US dollars in the money, it can be seen that under Guo Wengui's money grab mode, the ants muddily joined in, expecting to live the happy life described by Wengui, but they did not know that they had become the main course of Wengui's scam.

Just to preface, I'm not very close with my parents at all for various reasons and I especially don't usually get along with my dad. With that being said, I was going to decline like I always do when they ask if I want to go anywhere with them, but this time it was a whole Mother's Day thing and they were going out for dinner so I figured I'd be an asshole if I declined. Rather than driving myself separately I joined my parents in their car.
For context, I was part of my family's discounted cellular plan. I had to pay my dad on time, but I failed to do so which was admittedly my fault. He told me he would take me off their plan which I thought was completely fair. I decided to try a different carrier and my dad gave me a code to transfer my number. He made it seem like transferring the number wasn't related to cancelling the line, but turns out it actually was. I was doing a free trial with the new carrier so I didn't transfer my number right away in order to avoid complications, which was probably not a good idea in hindsight.
On the ride home my dad got to discussing how their carrier was still charging them for my line. I then him I still had service from the carrier they dropped me from, which I thought was just technology being weird since I watched my dad cancel the line and there was no mention of him getting charged after that until now. I didn't think to mention it to him at all which I guess was my mistake. He then told me I had to pay the $50 for the line which I objected to because he never said transferring the number is what cancels the line. Had I known that transferring the number is what cancels the line I would've transferred the number. He has a bit of a tendency to say one thing and then change it later to get his way which I suppose he does because he knows I'm not very good at remembering what people say verbatim, so this is what I thought was going on. At first my voice was raised a little, then he raised his over mine to where he was nearly yelling, but then my mom diffused it a little and both of us stopped talking. He went back to arguing about it and accused me of doing this "just to get back at his old man" which not only sounded absurd but absolutely wasn't true so I told him to drop it, which seemed to have really pissed him off.
Holding the wheel with his left hand, he raised his right hand threatening to hit me across the face. Initially I wasn't afraid at all since I thought there was no way he'd do this while he was driving on a highway with himself, his wife in the back and son in the passenger seat along with other traffic around, but he actually did it. He didn't sock me square in the nose or anything but there's a bit of bruising on my left eye from it. I raised my arms to block whatever he was going to do after that (he did nothing else) and eventually he pulled over to the side of the road and told me to get out, so I did and he drove away. There were no rideshare services around at the time so I was going to just get my steps in and walk home, but eventually my mom came back to pick me up. On the ride back and after we got home she essentially told me he hit me because of the "way I was talking to him" and that I needed to go talk to him about it, or in other words, apologize. The way I saw it, he had no reason to go from zero to a hundred in the first place nor did he have to get physical with me over it. In addition to this, when he apologized for flying off the handle at me for accidentally using a little too much soy sauce he said "we might do stupid shit but we're still you're parents" so I decided to just not apologize or say anything to him about it, which my mom told me I was "immature" for and that I was "making a big mistake" and just generally trying to make me feel guilty about it so that I'd apologize.
Me and my dad didn't speak to each other for a few days, but today he told me to come talk to him. Basically, he told me as a father he didn't regret striking me in the face because I'd been "disrespectful towards both of them for awhile" and that I was " talking to him like some punk off the street". He also claimed I was swearing at him saying "I'm not fucking paying it", which he insists I was doing but I'm almost certain I wasn't. He then said me saying "do it then" in response to him threatening to hit me is what made him do it and that next time he'd "close fist" me and kick me out if I disrespected him like that again since "it's the only way you're going to learn", even though I'm 99% sure I was saying "drop it". Then he admitted that if I told anyone else what happened, they probably wouldn't agree with what he did, but that as a father he felt he made the right decision. Finally, he said that if we butt heads again (which he also admitted would most likely be soon), he expects me to "open up the dialogue" between me and him. But considering the fact he just threatened to punch me, someone who's comparatively weaker than him, in the face if he detects what he considers "disrespect", I'm not really interested in opening any type of dialogue with him.
TL;DR dispute over cellular plan with my dad gets physical

English: daughter

1. the female offspring of the human species
   
2. a female child of any age
   
3. a female descendant
   

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Translations

• Catalan: filla
  
• Chinese: 女儿
  
• Esperanto: filino
  
• French: fils
  
• Galician: filla
  
• German: die Tochter
  
• Hindi: पुत्री
  
• Italian: figlia
  
• Japanese: 娘 / むすめ
  
• Portuguese: filha
  
• Romanian: fiică
  
• Spanish: hija
  
• Swedish: dotter
  
• Welsh: merch
  

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Word of The Hour's Annual Survey @ https://wordofthehour.org/form