Deep in the groaning halls of sinew and bone he awaited his audience with the god. At a wave of his hand the ribs which held up the ceiling contracted, tendons shifting within the pink walls of the chamber as the jagged, calcareous spurs that composed the doorway sank back into the spongy masses of tissue, revealing a passage curving down and out of sight.
Menash stood before the yawning portal and considered eternity. This was no an idle thought: here in the Dawning Chamber, the concept was very real. His father, Yulan, had stood in this exact spot times beyond count. When he was struck down in his prime by the Night Weaver and her Leaper offspring, torn limb from limb as he fought to defend Chthonis from a raiding party, Menash’s uncle, Aqavarr, had carried his broken remains over that grinning threshold to join the hosts of the dead, never to return.
A hot and heavy exhalation rattled up out of the depths, wafting in the acrid scent of the bonding pools and the wet slithering sound of the rebirthing canals. Menash felt a crackle of static in the corners of his mind before the signal sharpened and he heard It whisper distinctly:
“Enter…”
The familiar dread crept its way up the small of his back, and he gave a little shiver. No matter how many times he had communed with the Vitalus, he’d never been able to shake the feeling of his utter insignificance. But he persevered, walking bravely down the slurping passage, past the rows of broad antechambers lining either side of the hallway. Each one held a slumbering shape immersed in a cryogenic bath, towering hulks of muscle encased in ribbed and riveted plates of chitin. No two were alike in size or physiology, but all seemed to emanate the same primeval aura of dread that tickled Menash’s fight-or-flight-instinct, skewing it very much towards the latter response. These were the Hollowores, soulless avatars of the Vitalus, each one a tool capable of eradicating an entire species. As Menash approached, one of the living weapons stirred to life. A pronged, anvil-shaped head emerged from the bath, umbilical feeder tubes detaching from its armored flanks as the rest of its bulk followed, its mauve exoskeleton as sleek and shiny as amethyst. The Hollowore extended legs as thick as grown pine trees and lifted itself above him, its pairs of crushing pincers dripping amniotic fluids as it herded him towards the central room.
Bundles of white gossamer filaments spread all across the floor, encircling steaming pools of pus and acid. He saw arms and legs, sensory organs and entire exoskeletons being knitted before his very eyes, the amino acid chains being stitched on a layer at a time, the weeping pus evidence of microphages fighting off possible infections as the Vitalus did Its work.
These were the next generation of exomorphs, yet to be assigned to their hosts. It was here that Vitalus constantly improved the only thing that could ensure the continued survival of Menash’s subspecies. Exomorphs were bonded to Gallivants at birth, the organisms supplying their hosts with the means to breathe an atmosphere they was never meant to endure, and the strength to fight in a world that was red in tooth and claw. They were as swift as the summer wind and could multiply their host’s muscular power by up to twelve times their natural output.
But for all their God-given might, Gallivants were still mortal. They could and often did perish in the endless struggle for existence that the Vitalus called the Great Game. But even in death they could still commit their essence to posterity, passing down their defining traits through the malleable genetic code of the gilt helix. It was the Vitalus’ greatest boon; through the gilt helix a single individual could become a progenitor of an entire generation, becoming at one stroke the father of whole nations and peoples.
One day he too would prove worthy of the honor that Yulan had earned with his life. But he was not alone in that ambition. Menash was annoyed to find the crimson-clad Vezda and the cowardly Racek waiting for him inside, standing next to a large ball of filaments that hung from a tonsil-like growth hanging from the walls.
This node pulsed, emitting a small storm of bioelectric activity, networks of fungi conveying commands in the form of oscillating voltages to their communities of symbiotic bacteria, the latter containing greigite mineral crystals aligned in the shape of electromagnetic coils. Other networks hidden in the walls modulated and amplified the signals, and the three Gallivants steeled themselves for the onrushing flood of information as the Vitalus tapped into their minds.
He was a candle before the raging heart of the thunderstorm. For an instant Menash touched a fraction of Its intelligence, the divisions of time and space rolling back as they joined the ocean of shared consciousness, becoming one with the living systems of Arachnea. From the tiniest aeroplankton floating above the waves of the golden coastlines, to the herds of ultrapods munching their way through swathes of trees in the savannahs. Menash felt himself pushing up out of the soil, longing and lusting and reaching for the sunlight with a trillion green fingers uncurling, alive with the furious movement of life.
But what was that flicker of orange to the east? That searing heat, that prickling pain spreading like a cancer down his side?
The Vitalus scooped them up and hurled them headlong into hell itself. A roaring wildfire was sweeping into the heart of the eastern rainforests. Menash tasted ash and ruin, felt pieces of himself wither and burn, his branches tongues of fire, wood cracking from the intense blaze, sap boiling instantaneously upon contact and rupturing, splitting him right down the grain. He fled in terror, running, slithering, digging, swimming, flying away in crazed panic from the walls of red death closing in on him. As his skin flaked off in clumps of charcoal he looked back and saw it towering over the treetops, the epicenter of this howling vortex of destruction: the grey behemoth. Its burnished metal hide gleamed like copper, reflecting the fury of the conflagration burning well into the night.
Menash pulled his mind away before it was lost forever in the storm of electric potentials. He saw Racek and Vezda swaying on their feet, breathing hard and fast.
“Heart of the World,” he managed to gasp, “What is your bidding?”
The Hollowore maneuvered itself until it was facing him directly. Tiny beady eyes fixed him in their blank gaze. The node emitted a blue pulse and the creature shuddered as it received the signal. It opened a maw powerful enough to chew boulders into gravel and rumbled:
“This one is the alpha which survived first contact with anomalous variable. It will tell Us what occurred, and from whence this threat emerged.”
“It came from the karst mountain range, where the yellowjacket Amit live,” Menash replied, “It was destroying the largest mound in that area, massacring its inhabitants. It brought the mountain down on them—we’ve never seen anything like it. Zildiz was the first on the scene. She warned us not to approach, and that it was dangerous, but some of us,” here he cast an angry look at Vezda, “Some of us went ahead and tried to scavenge from the bodies of the dying. Then the behemoth ignited the air and burned scores of us to cinders.”
“Irrational. Why did you do this?”
“W-we thought that you had spawned the grey behemoth,” Menash stammered, embarrassed to say the least, “That it was the newest addition to the Great Game, another species of ultrafauna that would help perfect Arachnea.”
“Not so. It was made by an evil far older than the All-In-One,” replied the Vitalus, “It is called a Divine Engine. In cycles past, this evil sought to undo this world and all that inhabit it. In that, it almost succeeded.”
Menash felt his blood run cold at those words.
“Is it the only one of its kind?” Racek piped up. Menash and Vezda both bristled at his interruption; subordinates were only supposed to speak when spoken to.
“There were several deployed here in Our infancy. We had thought them all destroyed in the War of Creation.”
“Your Munificence,” Racek went on, heedless of the venomous looks he was getting from the other two, “Most of us survived because Zildiz persuaded us to dive into the river. She saved all our lives! But as I washed up on the riverbank, I saw the behemoth casting a seedpod into the skies. I did not see where it landed, but it was travelling in a high arc due east. Is this the behemoth’s method of reproducing? If so, then how many offspring can it generate from this one seed?”
The Vitalus met his questions with a minute of silence. Menash had never known It to take so long to respond to a query, and felt another stab of unease in his gut. Unless he was imagining things, the Vitalus seemed genuinely disturbed by the scenario that Racek has raised, enough to convince Menash that the danger was far from hypothetical.
“That is a distant possibility,” It said somewhat cryptically, “Regardless, We cannot allow the Engine’s continued existence.”
“Then it must be destroyed,” Vezda said, her barbed tail eagerly perking up.
“We are not certain that it can be,” the Vitalus said, and Menash heard Racek audibly gulp at the admission.
“But Your Omniscience, you alone are the arbiter of growth and decay,” Vezda said in disbelief, “Surely you can unmake this monster as well?”
“Perhaps. The Divine Engines were built to withstand the extremes of temperature, gravity, atmospheric pressure, acidity and irradiation found on semi-inhabitable exoplanets. Worlds of bareness and desolation, glassed by thermonuclear bombardment or infested with alien microorganisms. In the wars of Our youth, the Betrayers used tungsten-alloy warheads fired from space platforms to crack their bulkheads. Not even Our vessels, the Hollowores, could damage them in any significant way. We will need time to gather the raw materials and fabricate the weapons needed to end this threat.”
“What must we do?” Menash asked.
“If this variable is not dealt with, it could upset the delicate balance We have sacrificed so much to achieve. Already the wildfire it has caused will release close to 400 million metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and destroy 2.3 million acres of forest before Our countermeasures can stop it. Time is our limiting factor. If the Engine cannot be destroyed now, it must be restrained.”
“It hasn’t moved an inch since we last saw it,” Vezda said brightly, “Maybe it has already died?”
“Yes, and maybe your mother was a horka toad,” Racek said snidely. Vezda scowled and took a step towards him, then stopped as she remembered that she trod on hallowed ground.
“Not so. It has merely gone dormant. Having expended its fuel, it is now running on the bare minimum of its reserves. My children, you must ensure that it does not wake again. Establish a quarantine zone around the Engine and let none approach, on pain of death. The Leaper kindreds will secure the ground while the Gallivants patrol the skies.”
Vezda and Menash exchanged troubled looks. Nobody wanted Leapers establishing a foothold in what was essentially a buffer zone between their subspecies. Once allowed to settle in a habitat, it would not take long for them to adapt and become masters of their new territory. Ousting them would become a battle of attrition, and given the lower birthrates of Gallivants, it was not one they could long afford.
“Respectfully, we do not require assistance from our brother kindred,” Menash ventured, “We are more than capable of safeguarding the area ourselves.”
The node throbbed again, the bioelectric flashes taking on an angry purple hue. With a sound like the grinding of a millstone the Hollowore clashed its claws together impatiently. All three of the mortals took a hasty step back.
“The alpha will obey, or another will be found that can,” the Vitalus growled at them, “All subspecies will observe a general truce during this period. This is a temporary addition to the Great Game. Those that serve Us well shall be rewarded. We shall also enlist the aid of your terrestrial cousins, as well as the Cataphract clans to replenish the soil, and lone Saints who shall rove beyond the quarantine zone.”
Menash’s unease deepened. The Vitalus was bringing together four different kindreds, some of which killed each other on sight, in a move that reeked of desperation. The kindreds had worked together before, of course, on complex projects such as altering rainfall patterns and husbanding struggling species, but never so many at once. This was bound to end in bloodshed.
“Those that break the truce shall be chemically neutered, and their gilt helix purged from the existing gene pool,” the Vitalus continued, “You will maintain this quarantine until We have dealt with the Engine.”
“It is understood!” Menash and Vezda said at once.
“But what about Zildiz?” Racek blurted out, again risking his entire lineage by speaking out of turn, “She might still be alive out there!”
“He’s right,” Menash found himself agreeing despite his dislike for Racek, “She’s our alpha, after all. It would be a shame to lose her helix. Do we have your leave to send out a party to recover her?”
The Vitalus pondered the request for a moment, then crushed his hopes when it said:
“Regrettable, the loss of the female. Valuable stock for the breeding program. But it has not responded to Our signals—it is unlikely to have survived. The female Vezda shall take up its duties as alpha.”
“But Your Benevolence—” both men cried out in unison.
“It is decided. She has risked the Great Game, and must abide by its outcome. To speak more on this would risk Our displeasure,” the god warned.
“We can’t spare the manpower anyway,” Vezda pointed out, trying not to look too pleased at Its decision. She darted a quick look at Menash, long enough for him to see the selfish desire festering in her heart. He turned away from her in disgust, baring his blades by the slightest of margins to let her know what he thought of her, then asked the Vitalus:
“But what of the Engine’s seedpod? Should we search for it?”
“Negative!” the Vitalus boomed, its node reinforcing the word with a spike of activity that sent needles of pain spearing into their heads, “We shall complete this task. It is dangerous and can be entrusted to no other.”
The Hollowore angled its massive head towards the cavernous ceiling, armored flaps on its back sliding aside as it unfurled sets of rigid sixty-meter wings. A wide sphincter on the roof gaped open and Menash saw the evening sky awash with the stars in their milky multitudes. The Hollowore took a deep breath through the spiracles lining its thorax and abdomen, pumping air through a pair of hollow tube-like protuberances under either of its wings. Menash and the others quickly scampered to a safe distance. Seconds later there was a scream of chemical combustion and the Hollowore rose into the evening skies, leaving behind a long trail of superheated gases, the backwash almost knocking Menash off his feet. They watched as the Hollowore gained altitude, making straight for the columns of billowing smoke on the horizon, a sweeping shadow blotting out the light of the heavens.
The Vitalus’ mental presence receded with it. When it did not return, they took it to mean that they were dismissed and likewise took flight and headed for Chthonis. They were hardly out of the Dawning Chamber when Vezda seized the scrawny Racek by his wings and anchored her feet right up against his back.
“Funny little man, are you? Crack jokes at my expense again, and I’ll see to it that you’ll never fly again!” she snarled, yanking hard. Racek yelled as his wings threatened to pop out of their sockets.
“Stop!” Menash said, ramming his shoulder into her and knocking the smaller male out of her grip. Vezda rounded on him, blades out and her tail aquiver with rage.
“As for you! No one should speak to the Vitalus like that!” she shrieked, “Much less gainsay It! Are you trying to get us all killed? It is the source and continuance of life itself—”
“But the Vitalus doesn’t always consider the individual scale of things,” Menash reasoned, controlling his rising anger as he tried to defuse the situation, “Its scope of thought is beyond ours. Therefore it is up to us to look after each other. None of us can win the Great Game alone. We need people like Zildiz for the species to prosper.”
“Your logic is flawed,” Vezda spat, “Empathy is a sham devised by the selfish action of the gene, which seeks only to preserve itself. At least I am honest enough to look after my own interests. Your obsession with that whore is misplaced. Heed my words, Menash. What happened today marks a change in the Great Game. Only the ruthless will reap the rewards of this era. Think on that, and act accordingly.”
The female darted off in another direction, leaving the two behind.
“Thanks,” Racek said, rubbing at his sore shoulders, “My, my. She’s really taking her promotion very seriously, isn’t she?”
“This doesn’t make us friends,” Menash said shortly, “We share a common interest, that’s all.”
The two flew together in silence for a time, the dark canopy unrolling below their feet. Racek had always been a bitter rival for Zildiz’s affections. In the mating seasons he and Menash had flown the damsel-dance against each other countless times, racing and dogfighting at top speed through the dense bamboo thickets in an effort to impress her.
But each time she had always chosen Menash. Naturally. He was the stronger, the braver, the son of the Scourge who had slain hundreds on his lightning raids into Leaper territory. Their pairings had been brief and passionate, yet she had always laughed at the end and gone on her merry way, a rose petal borne on a scented breeze, the dalliance as meaningless to her as other concerns like eating or breathing.
But not to him. Right now, all that mattered was her. And Racek was the only one in the whole wide world who knew exactly how he felt. Did that mean he could be trusted? Menash considered the enormity of what he was about to do, and wavered. Then he saw her face in the darkness of his home, the face she wore when they were all alone together, and he took a deep breath before breaking the silence, saying:
“I’ll be in charge of the quarantine. I can arrange for you to disappear for a few days. I can have one of the younglings mimic your magnetosynaptic signal, make it seem like you’re with the rest of us.”
“You’d do that? For me?” Racek said in astonishment.
“Hah. Not for you,” Menash laughed softly. He looked Racek straight in the eyes and continued: “What’ll it be, then?”
If he so much as hesitates, I’ll have to kill him here and now, Menash told himself.
“Why, yes. Yes, of course!” the little brown male said vigorously.
“Good,” Menash sighed with relief, “She’ll be very grateful to whoever brings her home. I’d do it myself, but as an alpha I can’t risk being seen as disobedient.”
“Then why give me this chance? After all that’s passed between us?”
“I should have thought that was obvious,” Menash replied. Racek digested that for a bit, then out of nowhere said:
“If I find her—when I find her—I’ll tell her exactly who it was that sent me.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Bah! Just so we’re even, that’s all,” Racek grinned, his mouthparts slanting askew.
“Thanks, I guess. I’d…I’d appreciate that. You do understand what we’re risking here, right?”
“Sure. We’ll be total genetic write-offs if we’re caught. But it’s not like I wanted to see tiny ugly Raceks running around the house anyway. What about you, though? Why are you putting your neck on the chopping block?”
“You know why,” Menash said quietly, his thoughts still lingering on her face.
“Yes,” Racek agreed with a wistful air, “Yes, I suppose I do.”
And the pair spoke no more until they reached Chthonis.

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The Colonel’s tent was leaking again. Ordinarily such a mistake would’ve earned his adjutant an hour-long dressing down and possibly, if the Colonel was feeling particularly enthusiastic, a sharp backhanded slap across the face. After all, a leaky tent could hardly be said to be hermetically sealed, now could it? But this affront to his sensibilities paled in comparison to the utter travesty and exemplar of sheer incompetence that now sat before his desk, a sagging wreck of a man in the tattered uniform of a Fleet officer. Colonel Moch Leelan curled his lip at it and barked:
“Once more, if you please. And I don’t want this on record,” he added, darting a look at the clerk poised to take dictation in the corner of the room, “Not a word of this gets out. There’s been enough of a snafu already, and the brass won’t stop shitting down my neck about Mound 13 and the loss of Prota’s pestilential pet project. Did you hear me, man? I said start from the beginning!”
Outside the monsoon was intensifying into one of those proverbial downpours which prompted doddering old men to remark that it was ‘raining cats and dogs’, though what either a cat or a dog were, none could now say. A trickle of it seeped in like a string of winking glass beads, catching the orange glow of the gas lamp and turning into sparks of amber, into seeds of flame. They dripped on the bald man seated on the low footstool, and he raised his head to meet the scornful gaze of the Colonel, grey eyes unabashed and unafraid. He spoke then, in a hoarse voice that matched his pallid flesh and buzzard nose:
“It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our pack-beasts in the mire. My assistant and I—”
“Name, rank and serial number!” Colonel Leelan interrupted, for the sole purpose of seeing the coward blink and quaver like the worm he was. But in that he was to be disappointed, for the man continued in the same flat tone:
“Sollem Deschane, Lord Navigator, 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment, serial number 18911944. We received orders from the Admiralty and Fleet Command to reconnoiter the area around the enemy concentration designated as Mound Euler. I was to lead a platoon of twenty handpicked volunteers across the river Foss at its lowest point, then scale the outlying cliffs to get better readings as we mapped out the approaches to Mound Euler. It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our myropods in the mud and carry our own gear. My assistant navigator Rene Louvoture and I noticed a discrepancy with our visually confirmed data and the aerial sketches of the Aeronautical Division. We quickly worked out that the enemy concentration far exceeded initial estimates by an order of magnitude. Mound Euler is an omega-class colony the likes of which the Fleet has faced only once in its entire existence, during the Scouring of Assail. It is my belief that—”
“Leave your hysterics for later and get on to meat of things,” Leelan snapped. Deschane straightened a bit in his seat and scowled as his layers of bandages shifted. The man was practically mummified by the sheer extent of his wounds that it was a wonder he had managed to limp into the tent in the first place. But the navigator had made a point of refusing to be debriefed in his sick bed and had insisted that he be given no further pain killers. This was to prove that his report was not at all influenced by the effects of opiates, as well as to underline the supposed importance of his eyewitness account as the sole survivor of the siege of Mound 13.
But Colonel Leelan was no fool. He knew the tactic for what it was: a bit of playacting by a soon-to-be-disgraced officer, a desperate attempt to pass himself off as a tragic hero rather than the author of the most monumental military cock-up of the decade.
You may very well get that wish, Deschane, Leelan smirked inwardly. If you play your cards right. You’ll find that I can put on a pantomime as well as the next man.
Deschane regarded him cooly, replying:
“You asked for my report, sir. I am stating the facts as I understand them.”
“Understand?” Leelan guffawed, “There’s precious little to understand about this debacle! Explain to me how a routine scouting mission winds up in the loss of 5,000 men, a Rear-Admiral and an entire frontline outpost! Explain to me how you not only got every last one of your own men slaughtered, but still managed to save your own sorry arse!”
Now that had an effect on the navigator’s bearing. He dropped the holier-than-thou attitude and even pretended to dab at some moisture in corners of his eye. For a moment his mask of iron cracked and he looked tired enough to sleep for a thousand years, never to waken. Then he seemed to recall that his career was at stake and had the temerity to argue with the Colonel:
“We were given faulty intelligence. I made mistakes, I’ll admit that here and now. We should never have continued after our pack animals were trapped in the mire. The gear slowed us down in enemy territory. I can’t wash my hands of the loss of my platoon. They were the best and bravest men I ever fought with, and I will carry the shame of losing them to my grave. The fact that I am still alive when none of them are breathing is an accident that was not of my choosing. As for Mound 13, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered and dealt with. They were only two day’s travel from Mound Euler. In fact, it was miracle they managed to exist for so long undetected.”
Magnificent deflection. Colonel Leelan had to admire the snake and his flawless attempt to pass the blame onto the shoulders of the dead Rear-Admiral Prota.
Yes, I think we can make an arrangement here, the Colonel thought wryly. He waved Deschane’s prattling aside and said:
“This omega-class colony of yours. A mound so large that is beggars belief, you say? Curious, then, that such an object should have escaped your keen senses for three whole days!”
“Visibility in that terrain and climate is poor. But yes, it was another one of my errors.”
“I’m so glad that you agree,” Leelan purred, his words dripping with condescension. He reached into the drawer of his desk and took out a bottle of fermented honeydew. Uncorking it with a loud pop, he poured out two glasses and lifted one to his lips, saying:
“On a related note, it’s funny how the fog of war can obscure so many important details. Even the best commanders can lose their bearings, lose sight of the greater picture, fixate on the wrong things. Take our dearly departed Rear-Admiral Prota, for example (may she rest in the Flight Eternal). Not to speak ill of the dead, but she was assigned an entire sector for her research into enemy behavior. And what does she do with it? Cultural studies! Anthropology! As if the Amits have a culture worth sneezing at! They’ve been working with flint and wood since this primeval war of ours began, and they’ve never taken the hint. Meanwhile, we’ve finally gained the advantage of powder and artillery and mass-produceable gas masks.”
“One big push! That’s all it would take to clear the northern highlands. We have the men, the will and the technology to do it! The last thing we need is some starry-eyed academic telling us that the Amits have somehow found religion. I mean, really!” Colonel Leelan warmed to his subject, “Five thousand soldiers dedicated to safeguarding some blessed cave paintings, right on the frontlines, too! What a waste. Like you said: if you hadn’t led the Amits directly to them, someone else would have down the line.”
“We took steps to ensure they wouldn’t follow us. We tried, but they found the fear-death pheromones—”
“Steps?” Leelan pressed him mercilessly, “What steps, exactly?”
Deschane looked away and said nothing. Leelan sniffed, continuing:
“I thought so. As I was saying, Prota’s project was doomed from the start. It was an ill-conceived, harebrained mission, and now the Admiralty will have to explain to Fleet Command and the general public how it lost an entire regiment in the name of some woman’s flight of fancy. But there is a silver lining to all this. Seeing as how we recaptured what was left of Mound 13 within mere hours of it falling, we think there’s a way to salvage the situation after all. You can be part of that, Deschane. Every victory may have its price, but it must also have its heroes.”
Leelan sipped his honeydew, waiting for the offer he’d made to sink in. Deschane smiled, a humorless crack in his granite features.
“You’re going to make me a hero?” he asked. Leelan nudged the other glass towards him, shrugging:
“And why not? Someone has to wear the medals. ‘Lone Survivor of Desperate Last Stand’,” Leelan exclaimed, dramatically forecasting the future headlines, “He tried to warn them, but did they listen? You get the rest, I imagine. We’ll have to improve some of the details, of course. Like how it was the 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment which held back the flood of Amits in the final hour and ignited the fortress’ ammo depot—”
“We never did that,” Deschane objected, rudely cutting off Leelan’s train of thought, “It was the Divine Engine. I saw it with my own eyes. It broke out of Mound 13 and slaughtered the enemy.”
Leelan sighed.
“Not this again. Deschane, I’d appreciate it if you’d save your hallucinations for the regimental shrink. Think, man! The honor of our unit is at stake here. You have a chance to redeem the men of your platoon, even if you can never truly redeem yourself.”
“I saw it,” Deschane growled, and for a moment Leelan almost reached for his ceremonial saber hanging by its belt on his coatrack, “Sir, it left footprints the size of—”
“For heaven’s sake, you witless worm, the earthquake was felt all the way in the Southern Delta! Not very big one, but certainly enough to account for the avalanches and landslides that took place around Mound 13, not to mention the sinkhole we found you snoring in! It’s certainly not the first time an uncontrolled detonation triggered a seismic event. Deschane, I’ll only say this once: either you get your story straight or by thunder, I’ll bury you so deep in shit you’ll start to think you’re made of it! And you are! If you breathe a word of this delirious vision of yours to the press, you’ll not only receive no medals, but I’ll have you court-martialed faster than you can say ‘diddly-squat’. Which is precisely what you’ll be left with unless you jump like a good boy and ask how high. No honor, no rank, no reputation, no pension. Nothing! Do you understand?”
Colonel Leelan wrathfully thrust the glass at Deschane, spilling most of it in the process.
“Well, do you?”


Deschane hobbled out of the tent, escorted by a pair of grenadiers in fluffy white shakos. They sealed the adhesive lining of the tent airlock after him and the Navigator went on his way, the taste of honeydew lingering on his tongue like a bitter poison. He lifted his mask and hawked up a gob of spit that eloquently described his opinion of the colonel, wiping his scowling mouth with the back of his hand.
Ven was waiting for him with the crutches, a young and rather portly corporal with apple cheeks and a worried, pouting mouth. She helped Deschane as he made the slow and painful walk across the encampment to his field tent, the lord navigator deep in thought. Along the way they cut across the central avenue of the camp where a seemingly endless artillery train was lumbering its way up from the south and curving around the broad talus skirts of Gorgo Plateau, teams of scuttling myropods hitched to six or twelve-pounder guns, their hundreds of tiny legs threshing the soil into a quagmire. Behind them, plodding dejectedly into the rapidly liquefying mud, were ranks upon rank of fresh colonial levees, their brand-new sealant suits creaking loudly at the joints as they made what for most of them would be their first expedition into the surface world.
And what a foray it would prove to be. Almost two hundred thousand men amd women were mustered here at the edge of civilization, poised on the cusp of what was to be the largest surface offensive in recorded history. The Fleet had arrived in the Northern Hinterlands, and it had come to conquer.
"Gangway!" the levees hollered at Ven as she tried to cut a path for Deschane through the line, "Can't you see we's marching 'ere, ya stoopid bint?"
"He's an officer, ain't he?" she screamed back, pointing at the navigator.
Upon noticing the faded chevrons on Deschane's shoulders some of them clumsily snapped to attention, stopping in their tracks. Their comrades behind them, oblivious to this turn of events, bowled right into them, causing a minor stampede. Men and women cursed as they dropped their pristine muskets, never fired in the heat of battle, into the churning soup at their feet, or themselves went sprawling on their hands and knees. Baton-wielding sergeants descended on the mess, screaming for them to get back up, generously assisting them with a boot to the rump or a smack on the side of the head. Deschane looked back at the display for a long moment, as if considering something. Abruptly he grunted at Ven and they continued on their way to the outskirts where the Pathfinders were billeted.
She waited until they were inside the tent and Deschane was back in his sick bed, the navigator turning his back to her in stony silence. Cautiously, she ventured:
“What now, sir?”
“Draw up a list of volunteers,” he rasped, “But do it on the sly. We’re going back out there."
"Very good, sir," Ven squeaked, and went scurrying out of the navigator's chambers, sealing the tent flap softly behind her. She knew that tone and what it signified: the lord navigator had made up his mind, and heaven help whoever would stand in his way.

Anybody use a Samsung Odyssey Neo G7 32 inch curved on the series X????
I’m looking for some really good settings advice please if anyone can help. Mine arrived today and I followed a quick YouTube video to set it up because I was keen to play on it quickly. I have a strong feeling it could look miles better than it currently does. For reference I mainly play BF1. So far in this nothing looks quite clear and crisp enough and one map was too white and sort of washed out looking and another map seemed overly red.

You know what the best part is about playing Engineer in Team Fortress 2? You get to watch how angry everyone gets when they get shot by your sentry guns. Me and my best friend Jose both main Engineer, and can confirm that the best way to spend your Friday nights after school is to set up a sentry and get ready for the rage. There’s been matches where we haven’t even used our actual guns even once, but racked up lots of kills just because of the sentries.
One day Jose called me up with an idea that was either going to be the stupidest thing ever or the smartest thing ever. He wanted to fill an entire team with only Engineers and watch the chaos unfold. I couldn’t stop laughing at the mental image in my head and agreed with the plan. I joined a Discord server with everyone else on the team.
I convinced my cousin Matthew to join, and he in turn brought along his little brother Zack. According to Matthew, it took quite a bit of convincing because Zack was a Scout main who couldn’t stand Engineers. He eventually got through to his little brother by promising him a Steam gift card. I even got their dad Graham to play along (yes, I have an uncle who plays TF2. How cool is that?). Jose enlisted his friends, who turned into friends of friends and soon enough we had a team of 16 Engineers.
To say that we caused chaos that night was an absolute understatement. As soon as we joined the game the text chat was flooded with messages from the other team wondering what the hell was going on. And they only got worse from that point on. We surrounded our control points with a ring of sentries that people just kept running into. I saw keyboard smashes and heard other teen boys’ voices crack in rage and many, many words that I personally don’t care to repeat here.
The most skilled Engineer was this guy named Craig, who was a friend of one of Jose’s friends. Not only was he the main person capturing the enemy control points with some very strategically placed teleporters, but he was also really friendly and encouraging to all of us. I didn’t know what he looked like, but from his voice it sounded like he was in his early 20s.
Me and Craig started to chat more and more on Discord. He was a super nice guy who was also really fun to talk with. He took time out of his day to teach me how to be an even better Engineer player. Whenever someone started dissing me in the voice chat, he firmly told them to leave me alone. After seeing my fair share of toxicity in the TF2 community, it was nice to know that this complete stranger was looking out for me.
This whole Team Engineer thing became a weekly tradition for us on Friday nights. It was something everyone could look forward to after work or school. One time after everyone logged off and said their goodbyes, Craig sent a message a few hours later in our Discord:
“You guys gotta check this out. I found the weirdest server ever. It’s literally Engineer heaven. Meet me at vl_sentry.”
I was still in the mood to play and I could stay up late tonight, so I hopped back on TF2. I saw that Jose, Graham and this other girl we played with named Lynn were also online. I found vl_sentry and connected to the server. The map was called Valley of the Sentries and it was created by Valve.
It took my computer a little bit to process the map, and it took me even longer than that to process what I was seeing.
The map looked like a chessboard with 3D-sculpted hills. The sky was just pure white. Not even white walls, just the color white. Every square had a blue sentry on it and there were about 4 or 5 other Engineers jumping around, spamming their voice lines. That’s when I realized that we were the only ones there, and there was no red team.
“Hey Sean, glad you could make it :)” Craig said in the text chat. “What the hell is this?” I asked. He told me that this was a server that one of his friends showed him. The friend said he was introduced to the map by a friend of his who knew someone who worked at Valve. Craig then went on to explain that apparently Valley of the Sentries was an experiment to test the limits of the sentry guns and their effect on the servers. Rumor has it that the map is infinite.
“Check this out.” said Jose. He switched to Heavy and immediately got shot down. All of the sentries turned towards him. There were so many of them that it made the game lag a ton. He respawned as Engineer and the sentries just kept on spinning.
“WTF?” I typed. “We tried it with all the other classes and it does the same thing.” said Craig. “It ignores Engineers, but shoots everyone else.” Lynn added. “And that’s why we’re the best class. Engineer power!” Graham joked.
I asked what would happen if you were to play as Spy and sap one of the sentries. “I tried, but you gotta have a godly reaction time to activate it.” said Jose. As soon as he said “godly reaction time”, I knew I had to try it out just for the bragging rights.
Respawn. Shot down. Respawn. Shot down. Respawn. Shot down.
Yeah, I did not have a godly reaction time. The others kept spamming “lol” in the chat each time I failed. I got annoyed pretty quickly and stopped trying. Then out of nowhere, all the sentries turned away from me and started firing at someone. I turned around and all five of us were still standing there. I looked at the top bar that shows how many characters were in the game. There were only five Engineers and they were all on the same team. So what the hell were the sentries targeting?
I started to walk in the direction that the sentries were facing and Jose followed me too. We moved really slow, not only because of the sentries on every square but also the uphill climbs. It was just us two in the chat for a while, talking about seeing each other back at school on Monday while we made our slow walk across the map. Then our conversation was interrupted by a chat message from Lynn.
“Why is there a man in the sky?”
Me and Jose tried to get to Lynn to see what she was talking about as fast as possible, but we moved like snails. To get back to the spawn point, we both switched classes, instantly died and respawned as Engineers. I don’t think we respawned in the same place we started from. I don’t even know where we respawned. There were no landmarks or notable things to help you find your way. Just hills, valleys, and sentries.
I asked Lynn where she was and she just told me she was with Graham and Craig. Only that wasn’t very helpful because we didn’t know where they were either. We stood there, stumped for a minute and a half until Jose got an idea. He said that she should just switch classes and respawn, because then all of the sentries would point toward her and we could follow them all the way back to her. She made the switch, got shot down, and we instantly knew where to find her.
We finally got close enough to kind of make out the vague shape of a few Engineers over the non-existent horizon. Me and Jose were relieved, until all the sentries pointed to our right. I swiveled around and saw them open fire on…nothing. I checked with Jose to see if he caught something I didn’t, but he also didn’t see what they were shooting at. I decided that it wasn’t that important and continued to walk towards the rest of the group.
We met up with Lynn, Craig and Graham, disappointed that we made that trek all for nothing. Even though we were all together now, it just felt so lonely. The only sound coming from my computer was the constant beeping of the sentries in perfect sync. I don’t know why, but it made me so uneasy. I attempted to break the silence by going to the voice lines and playing the iconic Engineer “Nope” soundbite. It echoed across the checkered land with no response.
It was about 12:30 AM at this point and I was starting to feel more and more unsettled with each passing minute. There was just something about this black and white world that I felt creeped out by. Before Craig invited us to come over, there was no one else on the server. Who would even want to play on this map, anyways? It’s so unfairly balanced that only one class can survive. Movement speed was super slow, and you can’t even really do anything except watch the sentries turn and turn and turn forever. It was like hypnosis, except I didn’t feel sleepy or relaxed at all.
Speaking of being sleepy, Jose said he was getting tired and was going to be logging off. We all said goodbye to him and continued chatting amongst ourselves. It sounds stupid, but my stomach dropped when I saw the fifth Engineer portrait disappear. One less person to talk to. One less person to keep myself from wondering what else was out here. I could have sworn that after he left, the beeping got louder.
“So is this map actually infinite?” asked Graham. “Only one way to find out.” Craig said. “Just keep on walking and see if it goes on forever.” “Why don’t you just fire a shotgun and see how far it goes?” Lynn suggested.
I took out the shotgun and fired. The bullet flew off into the white distance and disappeared.
Then I heard the distinct sound of someone getting shot.
A message appeared in the chat, from someone named sentry_check_pattern.
“sentry_check_pattern: stop that”
Once again I looked at the top bar. It just showed four blue Engineers. That meant we were the only ones on the server. Or so we thought.
The chat was flooded with our confusion, almost as if everyone realized at the same time that something wasn’t right. None of us moved an inch.
“What even is this place?” I asked, hoping that the mysterious user would provide me with an answer. “Must be Engineer heaven.” said Graham.
“sentry_check_pattern: more like my personal hell”
This was the moment that made me trust my intuition. I knew there was a reason why I found this map so creepy. I wanted to leave the server, but there was just one thing keeping me back- my own curiosity. My wish to unveil the mysteries of the Valley of the Sentries.
“Okay this is really freaking me out. See ya guys.” said Lynn before she left the server. The fourth Engineer’s portrait disappeared from the top bar.
No no no, please. Please don’t go. Don’t leave us. I wouldn’t want to be alone here. Now there’s just three of us, and I really hope that number doesn’t go down anymore. When the others were here, this was just a weird TF2 map that we were exploring together as friends. And now it feels like we’re trapped in this infinite world, but we aren’t alone. The only problem is we don’t know what else is here.
I shuddered, imagining Craig and Graham ditching me and leaving me all alone in the Valley of the Sentries. Just me and whoever- no, whatever was talking to us.
“sentry_check_pattern: you don’t know how good you have it
you can leave at any time
i can’t”
This terrified me. What a horrible thought, never being able to leave this place. But of course, no one could really be trapped here. It’s a Team Fortress 2 server. You can just exit the game and shut your computer. No one could be trapped in a video game.
But if you think about it, aren’t the characters themselves trapped? They can’t leave the game. They’re characters. They don’t even know they’re in a game. You or the computer controls all their actions. They don’t have free will. And if you’re bad at the game, they’ll just keep dying over and over again.
Wait, why was I thinking about this?
I carefully considered what I wanted to say next in the chat. Whatever I said could either answer all my burning questions or leave me asking more. But sentry_check_pattern talked first.
“sentry_check_pattern: i was made for one purpose
to die over and over again”
Oh my god. It was like this person read my mind and knew exactly what I was thinking about. Who or what was I talking to? I turned all the way around to make sure that no one else was there. It was just the two blue Engineers standing behind me. Just Graham and Craig. And that man with the checkered skin.
Startled, I asked my friends if they saw what I saw. It took them a second, but both of them confirmed that yes, there was indeed something else there. A basic male model with the same chessboard texture as the map. Graham immediately started to shoot at him. Nothing. It just went straight through him.
“sentry_check_pattern: you can’t kill what’s already been killed millions of times over
valve made that mistake too
every company has that one failed project they don’t talk about
and that’s me”
Whoever was behind this weird account was talking crazy. The Team Fortress 2 developers were very open about everything like fixing their glitches and bugs. They always posted things on the official blog about the development process. They’re so open about their failures and always promise to fix them.
“Stop with the weird stuff. We just wanted to know what the deal is with this server and the weird chess guy. Do you know anything about it?” Graham asked in the text chat.
“sentry_check_pattern: know anything?
you’re not very bright, graham
none of you are
do you not realize where you are and what you’re talking to”
Something about the way sentry_check_pattern used Graham’s name gave me goosebumps. I didn’t know what I was talking to. I didn’t even think I wanted to know at this point.
“sentry_check_pattern: this is one of valve’s test servers
i’m the texture they use to check if the sentries work
read between the lines”
“Quiet, NPC.” Craig said. I laughed a little bit to fight off the awkward tension. Then I reminded myself that I was talking to a video game character, no- not even a character. A blank character model. A texture.
“sentry_check_pattern: just because i’m a character model doesn’t mean i can’t feel pain
open fire”
The sentries all swiveled around to face the man and shot at him. He kept falling to the ground, turning white and standing back up in the same position.
“sentry_check_pattern: cease fire”
All of the sentries stopped shooting and just went back to spinning around, their beeps echoing in the air.
“sentry_check_pattern: ready to see what i’ve been through for over a decade?
open fire”
Before any of us could react, the sentries opened fire on Craig all at once. He kept dying, but he didn’t explode the way you’re supposed to when you die in TF2. He just dropped to the floor, turned white, and respawned over and over again. There was no death scream. I tried to type something else in the chat but the game lagged so much that my typing just ended up as a string of random letters that meant nothing. Craig tried to type something out too. It just ended up as “wwwwwwwwwwthisishowitfeelswwwwwwwww” Then the game crashed and my computer shut down.
I hyperventilated. Then I laughed at myself for hyperventilating over a stupid computer game. It was Team Fortress 2 for god’s sake. That game with all the memes and goofy jokes. Stupid, stupid Sean. Scared of a character model. Jose would never let me live it down. I just laughed and laughed to push the fear away.
I closed my laptop and took out my phone to rewatch all of my favorite TF2 animations for the millionth time. As if they weren’t already the funniest things in the world, I forced myself to laugh even harder than usual. Every time I saw the Engineer, I couldn’t help but look at the reflection in his goggles. The reflection of an endless map of black and white squares.
Thankfully, nothing bad happened to my game, account or laptop. The next day I just went right back to playing and enjoying the rage coming from all the people who ran right into my sentries.
Team Engineer was still a thing, but it was never really the same. We played together a lot less frequently. It was still a lot of fun, but I felt a change that I couldn’t really describe.
We found out that Craig had lost all progress on his TF2 account. Everyone gifted him all his favorite cosmetics and we all pooled our money together to get him a Steam gift card. He video called us, crying at our kindness. It was the first time I ever even saw his face. He was a lot older than most of us. If I had to guess an age, I’d say somewhere around 30. He had black bangs and was wearing a TF2 shirt. His room was dark, only lit by his glowing computer screen. He thanked us repeatedly and even tried to return the gift card, but we were all adamant that he should keep it.
Speaking of Craig, we still kept in touch but he didn’t talk to me as much anymore. Any time I tried to ask him about vl_sentry, he ignored me for a few days.
The other day, I got some postcards from my cousin Matthew. He was very academic and happened to be studying at a private high school about 9 hours away from where I live. All of his postcards were pictures of him making funny faces with all his friends at favorite school activities like robotics, debate team, and chess club.
I looked at the chess club photo closely. Matthew and his friends were standing in front of a chessboard with a mirror on the wall. And for a split second, I could have sworn that the chessboard looked different in the mirror. It looked warped, like it wasn’t a flat board anymore. Like it almost had hills and valleys. No, it couldn’t be. I rubbed my eyes. There, in the mirror was a checkered man. I knew it was there. I swear on my mother’s life that there was another person in that photo. And then it was gone. Maybe the picture was just printed badly. But I had to make sure my eyes were right.
So I brought the postcard to school with me and I showed Jose. I asked him if he saw the checkered man in the mirror. He said no. But that wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. That was the answer I hoped I wouldn’t hear. I asked him again. He said no again. Then I asked him another time. He said I was being annoying. So I asked another one of my friends. He said no too. So I moved on to yet another friend. He told me to stop.
I angrily clutched the postcard in my hand, crumpling it. I was the only one that saw what was really there. Everyone else was lying to me. They refused to see the truth.
I screamed and ripped up the postcard. I stomped on its pieces. I rubbed them in the dirt for good measure.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the sound of electronics beeping.
It rang in my ears.
It was weirdly comforting to me.
You can leave the Valley of the Sentries. But the valley will never leave you.

Travis Mathew Polo - Coral / light pinkish with white stripes NEW Large $45
TM Polo - Black (hard to get in pics) with red,white, blue stripes and palm trees Large
$35
https://imgur.com/a/WbvMFHS

I recently inherited a 10-in corded Craftsman chainsaw and it has some kind of proprietary plug on the end of it three bladed prongs instead of two and a ground that I'm familiar with on most cords.
I would like to wire it to a standard plug so I can use the saw if that's possible. The saw has a red a white and a black wire and most cords have a green white and black. Upon opening the saw I see that the white cord bypasses a switch and go straight to the motor the black goes into the switch and out of the switch and on to the motor. The red stops at the switch.
Is it possible to do this? How to proceed with matching the wires?
Thank you for your time

$1 codes
21 JUMP STREET SD/MA
AFTER EARTH SD/MA
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CAPTAIN PHILLIPS SD/MA
DESPICABLE ME 2 HD/MA
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THE EXPENDABLES 2 HD/VUDU
FINDING DORY HD/MA
FLORENCE FOSTER JENKINS HD/VUDU
FROZEN HD/MA
GROWN UPS 2 SD/MA
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HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 HD/MA
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JUMANJI: WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE HD/MA
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THE LONGEST RIDE HD/MA
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THINK LIKE A MAN TOO SD/MA
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WARM BODIES HD/VUDU
WHITE HOUSE DOWN SD/MA
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I just visited that city after Redding I left because I couldn’t do the quest there so I decided to explore more. It’s such a cool city I was blown away I didn’t expect it to be so big and well done. Like I literally felt a sense of anxiety walking through the city with the sound tract the random gun shots in the background. And the two casinos look so cool and the bouncers outside have unique character models. I do however wish there were more talking heads even tho I couldn’t figure out how to talk to the mob bosses because the guards wouldn’t let me talk to them. The prostitution and chem dealers it’s such a cool area. After travelling away from the area I had a random encounter with the mobster killing some raiders.

After DJ Bella leaves our LI goes to the daybeds and whichever-character-has-been-drooling-over-MC goes somewhere else. MC gets the choice who to follow. I followed my LI to the daybeds. The screen starts to change scenes (i get a quick glimpse of the daybed roof) but then white screen and NOTHING! MC is outside having to say goodbye and LI is not even popping up there. I figure poor Tyler is still waiting for MC on the daybeds..🙃

I was diagnosed as having OCD by a neuropsychological testing center yesterday but I don't think this condition really describes my experience. I am trying to keep an objective, open mind but the more I read about ocd and especially the more I read about the experiences of people with ocd on forums like reddit the more I am convinced that I do not have OCD. It just doesn't seem to match with my experiences.
There were some red flags with my testing psychologist that I ignored. I went in to be screened for autism but she told me it was extremely unlikely I had autism because I have a boyfriend. I think the fact that I drove myself to the testing center also contributed to her not thinking I could have that diagnosis. She also told me she did not agree with the DSM-5 definition of autism and that many people were being misdiagnosed as autistic. She told me that there was no good way to test for autism but she did say that she would test me for it. My report actually mentions nothing about autism at all—not even reasons for ruling it out or suspecting that it is not a correct diagnosis for me.
A major thread of the report is that she believes I have a large amount of medical anxiety. This part I am 100% certain is not true about me. I think I have below average medical anxiety actually, and the people who know me well have agreed with me on this. I'm positive it's not a real issue for me.
I just don't really recognize the person she painted a picture of in the report. I expected to disagree about some things or hear some hard truths but I thought I would be able to read the results and gain some insights into myself but I don't think that's the case.
She did detect an attention defecit, but she attributed that to my obsessive thoughts (which I don't believe I really have, or at least certainty not enough to merit an ocd diagnosis). I think my attention defecit is just in the classic adhd inattentive way. To be clear, I think I have autism with maybe not a full adhd comorbidity but with some common inattentive features of adhd.
I could go on with a lot more details and can answer clarifying questions to anyone who will listen but I think you probably get the general idea
Tldr; I believe I was misdiagnosed has anyone had this experience and later determined that they actually did have ocd? Or later gotten a different diagnosis such as autism? I know doubt is a big part of ocd and it's not like it's portrayed in movies, I just don't feel like it describes me well, but when I read about autism it feels very relatable

I have
AFRO:

• Soma, Yuma - All 4 U
• Daughter of the Sun (Ankhoï Remix)
• Ankhoï - Sandiya
• Ankhoï - Clound
• Ankhoï - No sleep
• Ankhoï - After All Night Shift
• Tato - Merah
• Abdel Kader - Monte Rougue
• Love Me Back (Raffa Guido Remix)
• Valeron, Payment & Klaudia Touch Me (Sam (GR) Children Touch)
• Alright - Red Carpet (Kashovski & Abel Ray Remix)
• Victor Alc - I Know You Know
• Victor Alec - Hangin Tree
• Vxision - Love Preparetions (Slow Down Edit
• Classy 101 (Vxision, Maz Remix)
• Rui Da Silva - Touch Me (Peace Control Remix)
• Drake - Sticky (Peace Control Remix)
• Jovem Dionisio - Pontos de Exclamação (VXSION Remix)
• Black Cofee, David Guetta - Drive (Da Capo Remix)
• ROUTE 94, Jesse Glynne - My Love (Alex Wann Remix)
• FCLT - Fell It’s You (Alex Wann remix)
• Sérgio Mendes - Mas Que Nada (Ahmed Spins Edit)
• ANOTR, Abel Balder - Vertigo (Carlita Remix)
• Kura - Sentir Saudade (Guapo, Antdot Remix)
• Moderat, Keinemusik - More Love (Kalidon Mykonos Mashup)
• Keinemusik, Arabic Piano - Two Lost Kings
• Drake - Confusion ( Keinemusik Remix )
• Fortress - Diplo ( Rampa Remix )
• Tanzânia (Rampa Remix)
• Toto - Africa (Rampa Edit)
• Zouk Machine - Maldon (Rampa Edit)
• Busta, Rampa, Black Coffeee - Mamakusa
• Go Low L.A.X (Rampa Edit)
• &Me, Rampa - Tong 4 (Original Mix)
• Travis Scott - Butterfly (&Me Remix)
• Feel - ABRA (&ME & Sasha Tigresa Edit)
• UNKLE, Miink, Will Malone - ONLY YOU (&Me Remix)
• Ilanga - Masšh (&Me Edit)
• Samba Yo Pan Pale (&Me Remix)
• Marssi, Adam Port feat. Ninae - All I Got
• Joris Voorn - Homeland feat. Matthew Dear (&Me Remix) {Jinadu Vocal Edit}
• Aba - Fell (&Me remix)
• Simian Mobile Disco - Caught In A Wave (&ME Remix)
• Adam Port, Massi, Ninae - All I Got
• Keinemusik - Muye (Enoo Napa Remix)
• Coco, Joezi, Pape Diouf - 7 Seconds (Moojo Remix)
• Moojo, Demeya - Hot N fun
• Moojo - Atitude
• Moojo ft Gabsy - Ze Roberto
• Moojo - I Whant Your Soul
• Moojo - GTA
• Cairo - Here We Are (Moojo Remix)
• Moojo - Oui
• Rihana - Stay (Moojo Remix)
• Moojo ft Starving yet Full - Limitless Vocal Version
• Moojo,Da Capo - What U Desaire (Vocal Mix)
• Post Malone - I Fall Apart (Moojo Remix)
• Drake - A KEEPER (Moojo Remix)

MELODIC:

• Adam Tem - Kepler
• Adam Tem - Deep Love
• Quentin Harris - Warning (Adam Ten & Mita Gami Re-Edit)
• Solique - Heat Of The Moment
• Solique - Mood In The Jungle
• Ego Maria - T Mapper Native
• Ego Maria, Toto Chiavetta - Cells Under Attack
• Yotam Avni - Island Hopper (Franky & Sandrino Remix)
• Tal Fussman - North
• Tal Fussaman - Sam Shure - Inferno
• Tal Fussaman - Childrem Of 95 (V3 Instrumental)
• OPUS III - It's A Fine Day (Aera's Finite Edit)
• Amê - Mifune (Dixon Acustic Edit)
• Jimi Jules - Palpitations
• Jimi Jules - Run (FT Remix)
• Schneider TM, Kptmichigan - The Light 3000 (Aera Private Edit)
• AIKON, Sobek - Burning Hats (Dixon Edit)
• Kavinsky - Nightcall (Dixon's Private Edit)
• Maind Against - Love Seeking
• Maind Against - Hydra
• Chis Bake - Ride (Mind Against Remix)
• Mathame - There Is The Light
• Ae:ther, Mind Against - Black Museum
• Ae:ther, Marino Canal - White Atlas V2
• Artbat - Dark Knight
• Yet More - Don't Let Go
• Amber Run - I Found (Ivory's Re-Found Edit)
• Billie Eilish - Everything I Wanted (Ivory Head Underwater Remix)
• Rebuke - Along Came Polly (Konstantin Sibold, Zac, Carmee Remix)
• Christopher Cross - Ride Like The Wind (Ivory’s On The Run Edit)
• Ivory (IT), Tal Fussman - Labyrinth
• Ivory - Identity
• Ivory - Lovers Hymn
• Ivory - Mirrors
• Ivory - Eye Blink
• Ivory - Jewel
• Ivory - Acid Rain
• Ivory - Conquest Of Space
• Ivory - Upon A Time
• Fideles - Lost In Town
• Hard To Tell - No Matter
• Hard To Tell - Stranger
• Aera - Pullunder
• Aera - Puzzle Emotivo
• Skepta - Bullet from a Gun (Colyn Private Edit)
• Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence (Will Clark Remix)
• London Grammar - Hey Now (Cristoph Private Mix)
• Nelly Furtado - Say it Right (Adana Twins Remix)
• RY X & Frank Wiedemann - Howling (Tinlicker Prague Edit)
• The XX - Fiction (Eagles & Butterflies Remix)
• Pink Floyd - Confortably Numb (Mita Gami Sunrise Edit)
• Massive Attack - Teardrop (Antony Toga Remix)
• Cassius - The Sound Of Violence (Antony Toga Background DiscoVox Version)
• Starsailor - Four to the floor (Mångata Projekt Rework)
• Sin Cos Tan - Destroyer (Adriatique Remix)

MAP: https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=12WtXWsPDZXN8FeCHK58aVnUzGqWMvFM&usp=sharing
I like making maps and started making a “Places to Live Guide” a while back. I picked it back up and updated it as the “is this area safe?” questions have picked up.
I want to promote our region and encourage people moving here. I also understand these questions get old, hence the responses of “search the sub” and “do research.” It also frustrates me that people only ask about safety. Sure, safety is one consideration but asking only about safety seems unhelpful. This map attempts to show more things that might matter to a person picking a place to live.
I defined 79 boundaries inside 270 in St. Louis. First, anywhere outside 270 or metro east is going to be true suburbs. Second, inside 270 should be our city limits if we were like most other North American cities. I stuck to 79 areas for the 79 neighborhoods of St. Louis City.
The boundaries are not true to neighborhoods and municipalities, but rather drawn to where the rating in one of the categories may change significantly (normally cost). Most neighborhoods/munis are split across more than one boundary. I named the boundaries by the any part of the neighborhood/muni covered.
The formula for ratings: Recreation + Walkability + Transit + Safety + Character - Cost
Ratings 1-10 for each category (10 being positive except for cost where 10 is high cost thus being subtracted from the rating).
Color Key- Red: 30+ rating Orange: 25+ rating Yellow: 20+ rating Green: 15+ rating Blue: 10+ rating Purple: Below 10 rating
I collected the following data for a score that corresponds to a rating in the individual categories:
Recreation: number of bars, restaurants, shops, attractions (includes parks) within boundaries + 1 mile
Walkability: groceries within distance from various points in boundary, wide roads, conflict points, miles of bike lanes, walkable jobs within boundaries
Transit: metrolink stops, high frequency bus routes, low frequency bus routes
Safety: property and violent crime mapping since Jan 2022
Character: historic districts, business districts, diversity
Cost: random sampling of average rent cost and purchase price
Top ratings- Overall Rating: Central Downtown (#1 overall) Recreation: Midtown-Covenant Blu Grand Center (tied #4 overall) Walkability: Central West End (Hospital District) (#2 overall) Transit: Central Downtown (#1 overall) Safety: Kirkwood-Des Peres-Glendale-Oakland (tied #76 overall) Character: Benton Park-Benton Park West-Marine Villa (Cherokee St. District) (#3 overall) Cost: Wells Goodfellow-Kingsway West (tied #73 overall)
Obviously for example, I understand a place like Ladue is desirable to live but rates low. The ratings are meant to favor well-rounded/mixed areas for the masses. If someone has money and wants a big house away from things, of course Ladue would be a nice place to live. Most places that rated low had low safety or high cost, though there are a few that punched above (Downtown Clayton for example rated well). Downtown St. Louis rates well because its built environment is objectively well-rounded. But of course not everyone wants a highly mixed use area.
I then split the places into sections to help people with a starting point: -Highest Rated Overall -A Lil’ Bit of Something for Everyone -Expensive Big Homes -Bang for Your Buck -Low Rating but Low Cost
I added three good things about each place because I think every place has great people and potential. Plus, it may allow someone looking for something specific to find a place that otherwise might be overlooked.
Maybe this could be pinned or used for quick response after some tweaking and allow people to overlay properties on the map or begin their search. After all, I want people to move here and stay here because they like it.
Please give feedback on where you disagree and what might make the map more readable or helpful. If anyone knows how to add a key, I would like to add one.
As I post this, I see a “Job offer in St. Louis…everything I see ranks it most dangerous place to live…” Man, it is disheartening. I want to see us grow so badly…

I’m poverty-to-working class level, single white 37 yr old American living in a 2BR apartment. I was attacked by my neighbor’s pitbull and have zero legal recourse (don’t ask about this in please, I’ve talked to several lawyers), and now have PTSD. Diagnosis is in process, but I have it. I couldn’t afford what I would rationally consider a reasonable mental health regiment (50mins talk therapy 4x a month, 10 minute check in with Psych for meds), which in my case, calculated with current premiums with my “good insurance package,” would average to $400-$500. I haven’t been doing that since January due to company changing policies now prevents me from getting access to this treatment via telehealth, which is was lucky enough to have covered outright most as a pandemic solution I believe (this part is all speculation on my part). So, just to pick back up where I left off, I’m looking at why amounts to a $5000 year investment just to keep myself alive and healthy, as it were. If it’s not obvious, this is also leaving aside all other potential medical expenses—everything from a prostate exam to a dentist visit. Now, based on being what I’d say is my slightly above-average understand of PTSD and its treatments—I’ve read the work of Gabor Mate and Thich Nhat Hanh, worked with a trauma therapist for a year or so, have friends who’ve developed it from things like rape and wartime atrocities. Point being, I know that most of these people will deal with it for the rest of their lives, and have to make significant additional investments to their recovery; physically, socially, vocational, etc.,, and yes ultimately financially. All of this being said, if this entire scenario happened to me in the UK (let’s pretend it wasn’t even a dog bite for argument’s sake, but some other horrible event that will trigger PTSD. Pick your poison.), what kind of treatment would be available to me through the NHS? What would it cost me? What about what I’m going to call “mindfulness pursuits” that I don’t expect and sober modern government to help fund, but are imperative for trauma recovery and spiritual growth—i.e., yoga classes/retreats, sensory isolation chambers, ketamine treatment, art therapy? Does the NHS partner with local community centers or private business that might offer these types of services at what American insurance jargon would call a “sliding scale?”
I’m sure I left a lot of things out, I plan to circle back and edit, read through all the responses and such soon. But honestly, I’m at the end of my rope and have been looking at the breakfast I prepared for myself 5 hours ago and haven’t taken a bite. I have no hopes, dreams, or peace anymore. All of that has been a long time coming and mostly because of mistakes I’ve made, and ever so slightly just being dealt an unfortunate hand (I am still insanely lucky by 98% of the global populations perspective I’d say), but things have changed now. The teeth and blood snapped me out of it. I’m sitting here and just fantasizing about how things could’ve been different, and what could have been. Lifelong Monty Python, Pink Floyd, and proper football fan here, I visited London, Liverpool and Edinburgh when I graduated high school in ‘05. my Northern Irish roommate from college always says I’m the most British American he’s ever met. Thanks for helping fill my life with awesome stuff. I hear you’re a racist now father, how’d you get into that sort of thing? Do you know what nemesis means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Baggy trousers. Baggy trousers. I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay, I sleep all night and I work all day. The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older. Shorter of breath. One day closer to death. Ive opened up the hurt locker and had a great big rummage round. YNWA. Praise Vectron. Mr Dalliard, I’ve gone peculiar now.

Ivaxa has been well known for his high BPM stream plays along with his obscene singletapping skills over the course of a few weeks at the time of writing. His most notable achievement is his S rank on Deceit [pishi’s Extra] +DT (Score) (Replay). However there is some unusual behavior that Ivaxa has that should be looked into. This thread will look into quite a few cases of these weird findings.
As of the current date, May 16th, 2024, we have collected enough information to submit our public review of Ivaxa’s activity. We are asking the osu! staff and other independent researchers to validate our information and proof-check every single aspect of it. If our findings would be proven to be incorrect and/or not substantial - that's completely fine. Our goal is not to just blindly accuse but to establish the truth.
This document contains currently collected information about Ivaxa, his scores, profiles, and potential connections to other “alt” accounts in the game. We, as an independent team, are trying to establish the legitimacy or lack thereof of said player.
As always, harassment of any of the people mentioned/involved in the report is inappropriate. Please be civil when partaking in the discussion.
Replays, and VODs can be found in a google drive at the end of the thread so you can investigate and see moments listed in the thread yourself.
But first, here's a few things to consider:

1. Ivaxa’s mouse is a HyperX Pulsefire Haste 2, he allegedly plays on 800 DPI with a 0.62x sens multiplier on osu!. The only reason as to why it’s alleged is because of his recent streams, his sensitivity seems higher than it actually is.
2. He plays with a Sayu O3C keypad that runs at 8000hz (Peripheral information can be found from Ivaxa’s Twitch channel.)
3. He is able to singletap 191 BPM streams consistently.
4. Ivaxa used to be a DT aim player, not much of a stream player until recently.
5. The player does have skill, however he may be using some sort of outside assistance software-wise like aim assist or relax hacks.
6. All replays in this thread were inspected using Circleguard.
7. Most of the information down below was conducted in the empirical (perceived) sense, so take all of it with a grain of salt.

Section one: Replays

There are a few moments within Ivaxa’s recent replays that felt unusual or very strange; mostly unusual edge hits, but also weird UR bar behavior.
The Deceit +DT
There are a few things to mention about this score. The first is an unusual UR bar behavior from 91076 ms (~1 minute 31 seconds) to 93123 ms (~1 minute 33 seconds). The UR bar looks like this in the end. This type of UR bar behavior is often found in 125 hz keyboards with a map that has a BPM that is a multiple of 125 (125 BPM, 250 BPM, 375 BPM, etc.). However, Ivaxa doesn’t use a 125hz keyboard or keypad, he uses one that is rated at 8000hz. This is rather unusual since this type of UR is only found in this section of the map only. Also, if he were to play on a 125hz keyboard/keypad, the type of UR that was shown above would be all over the map since the Deceit with DT is mostly 375 BPM.
The second would be his aim, particularly at around 1885 combo, his cursor shakes at an abnormal magnitude from the rest of the map. This shake can be caused by nerves, tapping strain of the left hand, or a mix of both. But, Ivaxa’s alleged sensitivity is so low that the shake that has been shown in the replay is either really hard to do or impossible.
Gotta go Fast +DTSO
This score has one thing that is quite suspicious. at 47582 ms (~48 seconds) into the map, an awkward edge hit is found where he over-aimed and seemingly snapped back to the circle. This kind of edge hit is something that a normal osu! player wouldn’t be able to hit entirely, especially at the speed at which the map is being played at. Another edge hit can be found in the same map at 28852 ms (~29 seconds), where the cursor doesn’t naturally curve at the end, instead snapping to the edge of the circle. Both cases may allude to the usage of some sort of aim assist.
Metal Crusher +DT
There are two things to note about this score, the first is some unusual cursor movement at the ending section of the map. Ivaxa’s cursor slightly follows the slider at 59128 ms (~59 seconds), and another right after at 60400 ms (~one minute). Movement like this paired with the speed at which the map is being played at just seems unusual/suspicious.
There are also five edge hits within the map, four out of the five edge hits are at the very edge of a circle. The probability of hitting these types of edge hits is rather low, especially when there are four of them in one map.
Edge Hit #1: https://i.imgur.com/g3VlDoz.png
Edge Hit #2: https://i.imgur.com/vpTKuw7.png
Edge Hit #3: https://i.imgur.com/oQiEwVR.png
Edge Hit #4: https://i.imgur.com/nJyVbiq.png
Edge Hit #5: https://i.imgur.com/MN9MfwN.png
Sendan Life +DTHD
There is something to be said about some of the 100’s that Ivaxa is hitting. More specifically some 100’s within a few of the maps that have been observed so far are very near the barrier of being a 300 hit regardless of whether the note is early or late (https://i.imgur.com/cxFSdjf.png, https://i.imgur.com/bHLurZn.png). The sayu is precise enough to actually hit these types of 100’s, however it feels like these have occurred too often, so much so that this play has half of the 100’s in the map has these “edge 100’s,” for a lack of a better term. There are also two 100’s (100 #1 and 100 #2) that have been hit at exactly the same lateness/timing.
100 #1: https://i.imgur.com/KR4BhWe.png
100 #2: https://i.imgur.com/pzg7zMn.png
100 #3: https://i.imgur.com/z5qIocV.png
100 #4: https://i.imgur.com/pgEBsKK.png
100 #5: https://i.imgur.com/rQ50Uhs.png
100 #6: https://i.imgur.com/oMkQ3O5.png

Section Two: Twitch Streams

The two pieces of information down below are more focused on his single tapping skills, along with some weird/suspicious moments during his stream.
Stream title: #18 #2PL we back boys PL/ENG
At 15:37, Ivaxa is seen to be double tapping 270 bpm streams even though he S ranked the Deceit with DT around three days after said stream (390 BPM). At 49:15 mins of the same stream: he is seen to singletap 191 BPM streams, probably because he was warm when playing at his point.
Stream title: #17 #2PL Yomi yori 3 mod pass happening right now wtf,
On March 31st, 2024, on the VOD where he S ranked The Deceit +DT, at the end of the VOD at 2:58:42 Ivaxa is seen singletapping a 390 BPM burst. After which he paused the game and blamed Steam notifications. Despite the bottom half of his monitor being visible on stream through the webcam, where no steam notifications or pop-ups are visible, he then opened Steam to "change notifications settings.'' After allegedly changing the settings, his cursor trajectory on the visible parts of the monitor on stream tells us that he moved the mouse from the top most left corner, while usually Steam settings are located in a pop-up window at the center of the screen. Afterwards His stream allegedly "crashed."
To see the moment, play the following .mp4 file: 20240331 #17 #2PL Yomi yori 3 mod pass happening right now wtf Part 3 and go to the near end.
Stream title: #9 #2PL if i want to i'll farm req closed
On April 7th, 2024 Ivaxa showed on the osu! Game discord server that he is able to singletap 191 BPM (better picture of the graph), however six days later after the message, on his stream on April 13th, 2024 Ivaxa showed that he was able to singletap PoNo’s Yomi Yori 220 BPM streams at the end. This type of BPM jump in such a short amount of time can only be reasoned with by hardware abuse via rapid trigger. Either that, or some sort of relax hack that assists the player in tapping.

Section Three: Multiaccounting

There are many pieces of information that suspect that Ivaxa is multiaccounting, however there is currently no concrete evidence on whether or not he is indeed multiaccounting. Please keep this in mind when reading this section of the thread.
The Mulitiaccount & Play Count Graphs
Pipecat is the suspected multiaccount. First of all, both Pipecat and Ivaxa are placed 1st and 2nd on the osu!mania leaderboard in Lower Silesian Voivodeship, Poland (This is done by using osu! subdivide nations). Both play count graphs also seem to compensate for each other as of 2024, April 4th (the graph for Ivaxa has been warped in order to have a better visualization).
Time-pp Scatter Chart & Best Performances
The same thing happens with their Best Performance Time-pp Scatter Chart from ameobea/osu!track (Pipecat's Mania Chart and Ivaxa's Mania Chart non warped). Both graphs seem to compensate for each other, especially at around the month of March, as of 2024, April 5th (again, Ivaxa's chart has been warped for better visualization of score submissions).
Speaking of pp, both accounts have similar maps in their best performances list (Ivaxa is on the left, Pipecat on the right). If you want to see more, just check their mania profiles.
This may ask the reason as to why Ivaxa hasn’t played any vsrg (Vertical Scrolling Rhythm Game), and yet his performance in mania is abnormal for his time played. As seen from the play count graph from above, Ivaxa would’ve most likely played mania first on the Pipecat account, and then proceeded to play mania again on the other.
Names/Naming Scheme & Last Seen
Their naming scheme can also be taken into account as, Ivaxa’s name was inspired by Vaxei, and Pipecat was inspired by Whitecat.
It is also worth noting that Ivaxa and Pipecat’s Last Seen times are near each other, being more or less one hour apart from each other.
https://i.imgur.com/uVucqXr.png
https://i.imgur.com/lYh4Gbb.png

Section Four: Misc, additional “facts,” and Speculations

This section is dedicated to the additional miscellaneous information and our speculation formed from the data we discovered during the process of the investigation. These entries are not verbosely written due to us not finding enough evidence/information to make them included in the previous sections.
For ease of understanding the entry's level of absurdity, we marked them with color tags. The marking process for each entry was completely subjective so even the most absurd ones could be a potential aid for independent investigators/osu! staff as an additional lead where we “hit the wall.”
Fact: Could be used as a potential lead
Fact + Assumption: Not substantial enough to be included in previous sections/Assumption
Pure Speculation: Completely speculative fact/information
Fact: BayOfEvil (Ivaxa’s old username), does have an osu!report on it, although the report isn’t very helpful. One of the thread's replies includes a Discord recording with Ivaxa playing as “proof” of him being legit. This should be investigated further (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVQDdw1SSLs).
Fact: Ivaxa’s Mania score on Ne uchi +DT was set 22 days after his no-mod score.
Fact: In Pipecat's osu profile a discord server can be found (https://discord.gg/jkMydV3PTB), upon searching "Ivaxa" the only two mentions of the name is from the user Pipecat (https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/577365869949354025/1225631393820708914/image0.jpg?ex=6621d52f&is=660f602f&hm=e3589cb93e9ffb2b7c0ef7ffbdedcc3b09df919a7082d11468035ff4f4f6e65e&).
Fact: Guitar to Kodou to Aoi Hoshi: Edge hit at the very edge at 202358 ms (~3 minutes 22 seconds) (https://i.imgur.com/PAWsyh7.png) Similar to the edge hit on FUCK YOU.
Fact + Assumption: FUCK YOU: Very erratic cursor movement at 4485 ms (~4.5 seconds) (https://i.imgur.com/mkRw4Ki.png) combined with his sensitivity and the map’s speed, this is basically impossible. Also he's been under-aiming a lot in this map but that might just be me. There is also an edge hit at the very edge at 60301 ms (~1 min) (https://i.imgur.com/GFxZctS.png), which can be questioned.
Fact + Assumption: Gotta go Fast HDDTHR: The UR bar is acting the same way that was observed with the deceit score from above (Gotta go Fast: https://i.imgur.com/ywA8XAu.png, Deceit: https://imgur.com/cbUtzya). With both maps being 375 BPM with DT, Ivaxa may or may not have used the same method of cheating if he is.
Fact + Assumption: Stream title: #18 #2PL we back boys PL/ENG, at 15:37 mins, Ivaxa is seen to be double tapping 270 bpm streams even though he S ranked the Deceit with DT around three days after said stream (390 BPM).
Fact + Assumption: A Thread created by sampierat on twitter: https://vxtwitter.com/sampierat/status/1775216723743875457?s=20

• https://imgur.com/pC3DBMq

Pure Speculation: During a congregation, several people have noted/proposed that Ivaxa may or may not be using three keys in order to stream higher bpm’s, using a software that alternates the middle key (since he plays ring-index) between key 1 and key 2 to insure that nothing is suspicious with his tapping count.
Pure Speculation: We condone an anonymous survey inside the mania community, including some of the top players, regular 4k, 7k, and 8k players, and some tournament organizers. Most of the participants agree that Ivaxa’s progression and improvement curve is abnormal.
Pure Speculation: Stream title: #18 #2PL we back boys PL/ENG, within the first hour of the stream, Ivaxa is seen to have completely lost his aim (44:46 min), even though he nearly fc'd Brazil on Fiery's Extreme with HDHRDT ten days prior to the stream. Although this evidence may not be as substantial as the others because of retry spamming Brazil.
Pure Speculation: The earliest known screenshots of Ivaxa grinding The Deceit Pishi's Extra, was on 2023, December 22nd (https://twitter.com/Ivaxaosu/status/1738245663631024453, https://twitter.com/Ivaxaosu/status/1738268599129632811, He later achieved an S rank on 2024, March 31st. He would've grinded the map for the past 3 months, however his play count seems to not reflect the grind, only having 237 plays as of 2024, April 5th (https://i.imgur.com/dg4HdSl.png).
Pure Speculation: https://youtu.be/Isp233epRAA the hands, and tapping technique may be similar to Ivaxa.
Pure Speculation: Potential lead/connection between Ivaxa and Pipecat could be found via steam accounts.
Ivaxa’s has two steam accounts (Both Steam profiles were sent to aknzx at one point):

• Main account https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561199027517248
• Alt (thanks for Ivaxa posting it on one of the discord servers) https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561199081700184
  • Has a VAC ban on it
• Pipecat’s steam account:
  • “Main account” https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561199389486073

Pure Speculation: Additional platforms related to Pipecat:

• Their youtube channel https://www.youtube.com/@pipe_cat (We tried to use it compare Ivaxa’s voice and Pipecat’s voices already, not enough information)
• Their GD (GeometryDash) profile: https://gdbrowser.comNotPipeCat

Pure Speculation: Pipecat’s Windows username https://imgur.com/a/DCgtC82 (from this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNTTpSl1hHo ) If it could be proven that Ivaxa’s real name is Krzys, it could be a potential lead (despite it being a very popular name in Poland).
Pure Speculation: Pipecat is recording videos on his Youtube channel using both a PC and a Laptop. The PC is running Windows 11, and the Laptop is running Windows 10. This Could be a potential lead.

Verdict

Ivaxa’s single tapping speed is very abnormal, especially considering that he was able to stream 220 BPM in just six days, starting from 191 BPM, all singletapped. His aim on some maps feels weird, and some edge hits are questionable in terms of legitimacy. The incident on his stream on March 31st of this year also felt suspicious and weirdly timed, as if he was covering something up. And Pipecat’s graphs line up in such a way that it seemingly compensated for Ivaxa’s play count, and pp-scatter chart. From the information that was gathered about Ivaxa, there is a likelihood that the player is cheating, via aim assist, partial relax, or a mix of both.
It is suggested/encouraged that you look into this yourself.

Files and Documents

For Ivaxa stream mp4’s, each “part” is in one hour segments (because untwitch). So part 1 would be the first hour of a stream, part 2 would be the second hour of a stream, etc. There are some parts where it didn’t download the full hour, so be aware of that.
We’ve also included one of the “VOD analyzer” test result files, which includes cursor positions from an analyzed stream segment (#11 #2PL 1.3k pp achieved). It was a completely custom-coded solution that analyzed the video frame by frame but it wasn’t used during the investigation, so we are unsure about the accuracy of the cursor detection.
Input data:
Approximate osu! playfield area on a 1920x1080 monitor:

-Top left of playfield area: (384, 126) -Bottom right of playfield area: (1536, 990) 

Ivaxa's Approximate playfield area on stream:

-Top left of playfield area: (329, 120) -Bottom right of playfield area: (1283, 835) 

Analyzed segment: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UOceGo6udbGH0p7jbZKvst4wqsIVWIWF/view?usp=drive_link
Google Drive: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1LTDABXcFHSJnk5KNfHWdH1XPJwcdf4S1?usp=sharing
Streams Timeline

Date	Stream Title	VOD Links
March 20th 2024	we back boys	https://drive.google.com/drive5/folders/1xFtwoU82d_qAKPyp7qEm2v4JVd8m-PDF
March 31st 2024	Yomi Yori 3 mod pass	https://drive.google.com/drive5/folders/1PJQOhrao4CFsaeLg4wcwFPtBybdocAnB
March 31st 2024	1.3k pp achieved	https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UOceGo6udbGH0p7jbZKvst4wqsIVWIWF/view
April 1st 2024	play game and then deceit farming	https://drive.google.com/drive5/folders/1TsTmiNzDRIMpFn4lmUzwzS6n3AjyE3rY
April 9th 2024	Yomi Yori DT Farming Right now	N/A
April 13th 2024	singletap practice	N/A

Been die hard full size over the ear hedphones user for quite some time.
IEMs layed in disguise because most of them sounded basically terrible in late 2000s when I've been making my initial choices when it came to the sound gear.
Times passed, tech got waaay more sophisticated, and now we surely have some IEMs that could happily rival big chonky headphones in sound quality. And I've decided to give them a shot as my portable option.
Got myself three pairs of different IEMs: one simple but decent, second with two dynamic drivers tuned closely to a harmann curve, and quite an impressive pair of planar guys.
All of them sound fine, dual drivers are the closest to the full-sized headphones I'm used to, the basic ones just sound a bit simple and have too much midbass for my liking...
The planars are by far the most interesting out of them all, that response, this impressive clarity... They do amazing with simpler composutions, classical music, jazz, electronic music and grindcore sound just amazing.
But fun things can happen to more sophisticated mixes: some background sounds which are meant just to be a mere footnote to underscore the main parts are getting so distinguishable you just can't help yourself but wonder if the things you hear were meant to be really heard at all. Imagine Moby's live performance, but his pants fall off all of a sudden.
Btw, my full size favourites, Hifiman Sundara are also planar boys, but they don't have a tendency to strip compositions in such a rough manner.
Anyway, I'm here not so much to tell all of you about my initial impressions, but to wonder, if anyone has experienced something similar to what happened to me.
It's a common knowledge that it takes a brain from a couple days to a week to adapt to a new sound source and consider it [normal].
So I've started fiddling with my brand new toys, sniffing on them, comparing them, and picking the favourites for different circumstances.
But some days passed and happened a thing that made me doubt I need to mess with IEMs at all.
First of all I must state that all three of my pairs gave some sort if V sound profile to them, I've just tried my best to get the flattest Vs to avoid the beats/raycons effect. So there's some extra bass and treble, but not too much. Second of all, despite all three pairs being semi-open and having some resemblance of a soundstage, there's only so much IEMs can do, and you really have to apply your imagination to "hear ot of the center of your head" to get to some level of space-aware listening experience.
And here's where those adaptations struck me like a sudden lamp post amidst texting a message on the go.
Three days into the endeavour I've noticed that it's become a bit harder to distinguish the direction of a sound in real life. And then came the time to start the dishwasher. It could do some more sound deadening on it's back so the water streams create a distinct low frequency rumble when it operates.
But when I've started it - there was none. I could clearly hear the water splashes inside, was perfectly able to perceive the bass and subbass in IEMs, but in the outside world it was all but gone.
Throughout the wash I could hear the rumble slowly returning, but as of now didn't fully recover my audial space-awareness.
At least now I have a clue why my friends who use IEMs for a long time can't tell a difference between full size pairs which are nothing but similar. They must have all of the auricle reflections just out of the equation when their brain approximises the sound.
So tell me folks if you've ever encountered something like that, be careful with your hearing, and have a nice day!

Yankees @ Twins - Thu, May 16

Game Status: Final - Score: 5-0 Yankees

Links & Info

• MLB Gameday
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	Yankees Batters	AB	R	H	RBI	BB	K	LOB	AVG	OBP	SLG
1	Volpe - SS	5	1	2	1	0	0	0	.273	.348	.432
2	Soto, J - RF	4	1	0	0	1	2	1	.302	.403	.517
3	Judge - DH	3	1	2	0	1	0	0	.262	.393	.555
4	Verdugo - LF	3	1	1	1	0	1	1	.250	.331	.405
5	Torres - 2B	4	1	2	1	0	1	2	.223	.301	.295
6	Rizzo - 1B	4	0	0	1	0	0	3	.250	.319	.405
7	Wells, A - C	4	0	1	1	0	1	1	.205	.318	.315
8	Berti - 3B	4	0	1	0	0	0	0	.262	.295	.262
9	Grisham - CF	4	0	0	0	0	3	2	.061	.244	.152
	Totals	35	5	9	5	2	8	10

Yankees
BATTING: 2B: Torres 2 (6, Ryan, Ryan); Judge 2 (15, Ryan, Sands). HR: Volpe (6, 1st inning off Ryan, 0 on, 0 out). TB: Berti; Judge 4; Torres 4; Verdugo; Volpe 5; Wells, A. RBI: Rizzo (23); Torres (11); Verdugo (20); Volpe (23); Wells, A (4). 2-out RBI: Wells, A. Runners left in scoring position, 2 out: Wells, A; Soto, J; Rizzo; Grisham 2; Torres. SF: Verdugo. Team RISP: 2-for-11. Team LOB: 6.
FIELDING: E: Schmidt (1, throw); Berti (3, fielding).

	Twins Batters	AB	R	H	RBI	BB	K	LOB	AVG	OBP	SLG
1	Julien - 2B	4	0	0	0	0	2	1	.222	.331	.422
2	Larnach - DH	4	0	0	0	0	3	1	.296	.346	.451
3	Correa - SS	4	0	1	0	0	0	1	.272	.364	.413
4	Kepler - RF	4	0	0	0	0	1	1	.304	.356	.500
5	Castro, W - 3B	4	0	1	0	0	1	0	.265	.327	.435
6	Santana - 1B	4	0	1	0	0	0	1	.208	.278	.389
7	Kirilloff - LF	3	0	0	0	0	1	2	.202	.262	.360
8	Margot - CF	3	0	0	0	0	0	1	.169	.231	.229
9	Vázquez - C	2	0	0	0	0	0	0	.171	.195	.207
	Totals	32	0	3	0	0	8	8

Twins
BATTING: 2B: Correa (7, Schmidt). TB: Castro, W; Correa 2; Santana. Runners left in scoring position, 2 out: Kepler. Team RISP: 0-for-1. Team LOB: 6.

Yankees Pitchers	IP	H	R	ER	BB	K	HR	P-S	ERA
Schmidt (W, 5-1)	8.0	3	0	0	0	8	0	103-69	2.49
González, V	1.0	0	0	0	0	0	0	12-8	2.63
Totals	9.0	3	0	0	0	8	0

Twins Pitchers	IP	H	R	ER	BB	K	HR	P-S	ERA
Ryan (L, 2-3)	5.1	6	4	4	1	5	1	93-60	3.57
Thielbar	0.2	2	0	0	0	1	0	9-8	5.79
Sands	1.0	1	1	1	1	1	0	18-10	4.82
Okert	1.0	0	0	0	0	0	0	6-5	3.29
Jackson, J	1.0	0	0	0	0	1	0	8-7	5.91
Totals	9.0	9	5	5	2	8	1

Game Info
WP: Ryan.
HBP: Vázquez (by Schmidt).
Pitches-strikes: Schmidt 103-69; González, V 12-8; Ryan 93-60; Thielbar 9-8; Sands 18-10; Okert 6-5; Jackson, J 8-7.
Groundouts-flyouts: Schmidt 9-8; González, V 1-1; Ryan 8-3; Thielbar 1-0; Sands 1-1; Okert 1-0; Jackson, J 1-0.
Batters faced: Schmidt 30; González, V 3; Ryan 23; Thielbar 4; Sands 5; Okert 3; Jackson, J 3.
Inherited runners-scored: Thielbar 1-1.
Umpires: HP: Paul Clemons. 1B: Andy Fletcher. 2B: Mike Muchlinski. 3B: Jansen Visconti.
Weather: 60 degrees, Partly Cloudy.
Wind: 11 mph, Out To CF.
First pitch: 12:11 PM.
T: 2:15.
Att: 31,569.
Venue: Target Field.
May 16, 2024

Inning	Scoring Play	Score
Top 1	Anthony Volpe homers (6) on a fly ball to left center field.	1-0 NYY
Top 1	Gleyber Torres doubles (5) on a fly ball to center fielder Manuel Margot, deflected by left fielder Alex Kirilloff. Aaron Judge scores. Alex Verdugo to 3rd.	2-0 NYY
Top 1	Anthony Rizzo grounds out, first baseman Carlos Santana to pitcher Joe Ryan. Alex Verdugo scores. Gleyber Torres to 3rd.	3-0 NYY
Top 6	Austin Wells singles on a line drive to right fielder Max Kepler. Gleyber Torres scores.	4-0 NYY
Top 7	Alex Verdugo out on a sacrifice fly to left fielder Alex Kirilloff. Juan Soto scores.	5-0 NYY

Team	Highlight
NYY	Anthony Volpe's leadoff home run (6) (00:00:23)
NYY	Gleyber Torres hits an RBI double (00:00:26)
MIN	Joe Ryan strikes out 5 over 5 1/3 innings (00:00:57)
NYY	Aaron Judge hits second double of the game (00:00:20)
NYY	Field View: Anthony Volpe's leadoff home run (00:00:44)
NYY	Clarke Schmidt matches career high with 8th K (00:00:06)
MIN	Ball boy makes impressive catch on foul ball (00:00:11)
MIN	Manuel Margot makes a leaping catch (00:00:20)
NYY	Victor González seals the 5-0 win (00:00:25)
NYY	Clarke Schmidt goes eight scoreless innings in win (00:01:29)

	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9		R	H	E	LOB
Yankees	3	0	0	0	0	1	1	0	0		5	9	2	6
Twins	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0		0	3	0	6

Decisions

• Winner: Clarke Schmidt (5-1, 2.49)
• Loser: Joe Ryan (2-3, 3.57)

Division Scoreboard

TB @ BOS 07:10 PM EDT
Next Yankees Game: Fri, May 17, 07:05 PM EDT vs. White Sox (1 day)
^{Last Updated: 05/16/2024 03:53:29 PM EDT}

My high school job was working at the CVS in small town East Bumblebutt*, and my absolute favorite aisle was the one with all of the pipe tobaccos. Every night as I faced the store, I found reasons to linger amongst the various bags and secretly sniff them. It always disappointed me that they smelled completely differently when smoked by my geography teacher outside during lunch breaks!
Teenage Smells PG is having her moment today with Or du Serail by Naomi Goodsir. A light dab opens with a sweet apple (barely fruit and closer to blossom), moderate amounts of honey that is not cloying, a touch of rum and a hint of tobacco. Within 30 minutes the fragrance blooms to reveal a soft flower and the tiniest hint of coconut, as the tobacco deepens. After 2 hours, it's full on sweet pipe tobacco, and I'm in heaven. After 8 hours, I can still catch a whiff when I raise my arm to run my hands through my hair.
This is the fragrance you

• bring on vacation with you for when you go to dinner somewhere with white tablecloths, where as the night goes on and people get closer they wonder what is it that is making you smell so deliciously, quietly refined
• wear on a chilly day while curled up with a good book and a Trader Joe's trail mix, dreaming of an Edwardian romance featuring you as the hero/heroine
• take to your business meeting for just a hint of something elegant that lightly wafts around you as you expertly present your work

Perfumer: Bertrand Duchaufour
Scent Notes: Top notes are Mango, Red Berries, Apple and Sweet Orange; middle notes are Rum, Coconut, Mate, Ylang-Ylang, Artemisia, Sage and Geranium; base notes are Honey, Tobacco, Beeswax, Vanilla, Amber, Oak Tree, Labdanum, Cedar and Musk
Silage: Moderate (within 4 feet)
Longevity: Good (6-7 hours at 70 degrees and 72% humidity)
Cost: $4 for a sample, $187 for a 50 mL bottle
Worth It? Absolutely. This is a gorgeous, solidly unisex scent that is an all season pleasure, well crafted and highly enjoyable to wear.
*Leave a comment below if you are also small town born and bred!