hello, I'm a ic patient for 1.5 years. I'm a 25 years old female. i had cystoscopies, hydrodytantions and cauterization. i was doing the elimination diet but still some things were flaring up my ic. i have neuropathy in my hands and feet bc of my bulging disc. so my doc gave me gabapentin for it but gabapentin was flaring my ic and causing so much bladder pain. also i was having pain during intercourse. so i wanted to put my ic into a dormant mode and started installations.
my first installation was hyacyst (hyaluronic acid) and i ended up having a bacterial infection. after that i tried another drug called ialuril prefill which has hyaluronic acid, chondritin sulfate and calcium chloride.
so before i started ialuril my urine was clear, alkaline (ph 9) and no leukocytes. after i started it, my urine started to look slightly blurry, became acidic (6, then 5 after second dose) and i had 6-7 leukocytes at first and 8-10 at the last one. also after i pee the medication, my bladder starts to burn every time. rn it hurts so much... it's clearly not doing any good to me and makes my ic exacerbate. my doctor gave me fosfomycin 3 times now but its not working. my urine cultures were clear on ialuril every time but it's the urine ph, clearness and leukocytes are the problem.
have you ever experienced anything like that? what the hell am i gonna do now? how can i get well and get rid of the leukocytes? wish i never tried it... should i stop using the ialuril? bc i will stop it. it's clearly making me worse. why is this happening??

Lore:
Nothing here, fill whatever you want with it. I don't particularly care.
System:
Rheosemion, from the prefix rheo- ( which means flow in Greek) and -semion ( sign) is a runic and alchemical magic system. Originated from rift-cracks, which are supernatural fracture surfaces that churn out Uno fluid. When Uno crystallizes, it forms Unozite, a hexagonal-structure crystal that is used to carve onto a surface following a specific pattern, creating scratches with the capability of storing liquid with a predetermined volume.
The runes are a set of logographs, discovered scatteredly across that world, yet mostly discovered surrounding places with rift-cracks.
To activate the rune, firstly it needs to be filled up to the brim. When the runes is filled up and overfilled, it creates a state called Overflow, and during this state, all of the liquid would flow out until the rune is empty again. ( You can have perpetual machines, great.) During Overflow, the rune is activated, and how long the effect lasts depends on the liquid volume, flowing rate, viscosity, etc. However, during Overflow, the rune is not capable of absorbing fluids and only starts to reabsorb after emptying everything.
Rift-cracks interestingly can only absorb Uno, yet when Overflows it always flows out more than it absorbs, so it is quite regenerative. During overflow, the volume within a rift-crack expands. Regardless, rift-cracks reabsorb Uno quite slowly, so you better find another flowing rift-cracks
The rune can be filled with any kind of liquid, yet it can transform liquids alchemically. This is a highly selective process, one type of rune can only transform one kind of liquid. Runes also have special thermal properties. It can only transform liquid-to-liquid: the liquid it is holding and the transformation result must share an overlapped range of temperature that both are liquid. For example, water can be converted to anything as long as its melting point is higher than 0 but smaller than 100. ( Still can be transformed into something that melts at 95C, and that is another thermodynamic hack. ). Reabsorption will cause the rune to cease to repeat the Overflowing cycle due to density and volume change, and even if the same liquid conducts Overflow, it will no longer transform; the transformation is directional.
Special runes include rift-cracks, which can not be replicated, and Rheomancite. It can create a field surrounding which blocks the flow of liquid - which can even block the absorption of a rune. If a Rheomancite activates, all the runes surrounding it cannot Overflow.
Application :
Potions. Eh.
Mostly this system offers an excellent method for storing extremely dangerous substances like acids, or flammable substances like gasoline, by storing liquids on 2D surfaces. You can have a tablet made of inert materials carved by Unozite, then install it inside a pipe - that would discharge enough liquid across the system. With a carefully arranged system of runes within a syringe, you can turn water and juices into high-grade potions, which can be injected directly into your veins.
What was not mentioned, is that the runes have their effects during Overflow: from discharging electricity, chilling, heating, manipulating surrounding pressures, releasing toxins....etc. Imagine if you throw a bottle in which the runes heat the liquid, or have a staff that telekinetically hovers an Unozite crystal carving into some surface behind the enemy line, then conjure a rain. The what-it-can-do is quite a lot.
Kinda wet isn't it.
edit : the system name should be Semiurrhea instead.

Back to my Deadly, Deadly Humans setting. I meant to post this yesterday but I've been distracted by Scavengers Reign coming out on Netflix; I'm only a few episodes in but I'm blown away by how good it is. I strongly encourage you to watch it, if you like my work it's pretty much guaranteed that you'll love it.
You may have noticed that I didn't post a HFY story last week; that was because the story I started writing quickly turned out to be not actually really HFY. It also ended up being over 10k words long. I've also written another story that's around 10k words in the last week, and started another that I haven't finished, as well as writing this. And I'm still trying to find time to make more videos to add to my Youtube channel. I really need to catch up on my backlog of unfinished stories, so if I don't post anything for the next week or two it's not because I'm not still working on stuff, I'm just trying to clear up what I've already got on my to-do list.
*
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There is an old saying: facts are found in science, truth is found in art.
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The first contact between humans and Amia was carried out via diplomats and was a somewhat dull affair. It was all very formal and, for all that everyone on our side was slightly nervous of the humans' reputation, nobody got eaten. As the Yuenkei had promised, the humans were nothing but friendly, and only interested in learning more about us.
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Of course, that didn't mean anyone rushed to get to know them better. The news made a bit of a splash at first - it isn't every day, or even every millennium, that a new spacefaring species is discovered - but the human homeworld and their colonies are right at the far end of nowhere. A long way to go, and not a lot to see when you got there, unless you're particularly interested in alien cultures. Part of the reason humans hadn't been discovered before was that they hadn't been a spacefaring civilisation for very long, and their technology, infrastructure, and so on could charitably be described as 'underdeveloped'. By our standards, at least, although of course we Amia are amongst the foremost spacefaring species in the galaxy. We just didn't think they had that much to offer us.
​
And of course, we still weren't entirely sure they wouldn't try to eat us.
​
Even so, there was now a tiny niche in academia filled with all the various researchers who came under the umbrella of 'human studies'. Xenobiologists, xenopsychologists, linguists, sociologists, and so on. You would think that in the spirit of exploration and making new discoveries, academics at least would be beating down the door to get a look at the first sentient carnivores ever found. In fact, it was mostly researchers who didn't have much else going on, either because they were only just starting out or because their career had hit a patch of turbulence somewhere along the way. After all, why would you spend decades carving out a name for yourself studying the Stat'staan or the Upau-Roekvau, then give up that career path just to trek over to the other end of the galaxy and risk your neck getting to know humans.
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That's the thing about academia: much as it likes to pretend it fosters a culture of spirited enquiry and open-minded debate, as anyone who spends any time in it soon learns, it often does the exact opposite. Quite some time had passed since humans were discovered, and we still didn't know all that much about them.
​
Well, that's what you get when you leave space exploration to scientists.
​
I had already done a fair amount of work on comparative inter-species art criticism, most recently on TokTok tapestries and how certain aspects of them mirrored our development of bark weaving. However, although I might have made a career as a critic and an academic, I'm an artist first and foremost. I decided I'd take a break from my research position at the university on Issa Molia to put together some new pieces for an exhibition back on Homeworld. Lacquered wood sculptures, mostly; tastes on Homeworld tend to be fairly traditional and while I like pushing boundaries as much as the next artist I've never seen the point in creating something no one will actually come to look at.
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For my subject, I decided to create a sculpture of each of the spacefaring species, along with a tableau representing their culture. Quite the undertaking; there aren't that many sentient species in the galaxy but it's still a lot if you're going to carve and lacquer a statue of each of them and install it on a carved base with examples of their art. However, having spent so long researching other species' art already, it seemed like the next logical step in my creative journey. I found a studio on Homeworld that was willing to host me, and I got to work.
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In between hours spent with saws, sanders and lacquer spray, I delved back into my notes on alien art and refreshed my memory, as well as reading up on those species I hadn't had the chance to study yet. One of these, of course, was humans, the galaxy's only sentient carnivores. I had barely even thought of them before, and I didn't really want to include them. Wouldn't it sully the work a bit if I had to portray a human eating a dead animal, or something? But they were a sentient, spacefaring species, so for the sake of completeness I felt I had to at least try to come up with something for them.
​
With every other species I had to read up on, there was already a wealth of information cataloguing and indexing their significant cultural works and summarising them for a layperson. However, when I got to humans I found that there was almost nothing. A few xenopsychologists had looked at human artworks trying to tease out the underlying principles of the human psyche, but it seemed like no one had really examined human art for its own sake.
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I was annoyed, at first, because I hadn't really budgeted the time to start from scratch researching humans. However, then I got curious. Was I really the first artist to take a serious look at human art? Well, if anyone else had been doing any research on the subject, they hadn't published anything. That's the thing about artists: we're not very systematic. I was sure that somewhere there'd be a studio with a sideline in human art styles; scientists might chase the unknown in the name of pushing the boundaries of our knowledge of the universe, but there's no one more desperate for novelty than an artist looking for inspiration. My searches didn't turn up anything, though. Maybe human art just wasn't very good.
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One way or the other, I had to learn more about them to complete my project, so once I'd determined that there weren't any shortcuts my only choice was to go onto the net and start searching for archives of human cultural products. Fortunately, we had at least received a fair number of files relating to art in our diplomatic exchanges with the humans, and almost all of it seemed to have been sitting uncatalogued and unexamined in the archives ever since.
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There was a huge amount of data, in fact. Where do you even start with the culture of an entire species? I mean, I didn't even know what medium humans preferred. Visual? Audio? Tactile, olfactory, some other sense I wasn't aware of? Who was to say they would even have anything I could replicate in wood?
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It was tempting just to search for images of human woodcarving. However, that would be an undergrad-level mistake: just because we set great store by that particular artform, didn't mean humans would. I had to work out what was important to humans.
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Time to apply my skills as an academic rather than an artist. Fortunately, the archived material at least came with tags. I started by separating the files by genre. It was a start, at least. The translator seemed to handle most of the tags relatively well; there was at least some overlap between how humans and Amia chose to express themselves. Sculpture, novels, holographics, music. Only a minority of sentient species appreciate music, I was a little surprised by that one. I had a listen to some of it; there was a lot of variety but it was all oddly fluid, with no gaps between the notes, to the point where it actually made me a little dizzy trying to follow it. I suppose Amia music would sound oddly staccato to a human.
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Then I noticed that among the tags there was one for 'view count'. I thought at first it might be the number of times it had been looked at by an Amia, but unless billions of Amia had taken up a new hobby that had completely passed me by, I concluded that it must be the numbers of humans who had viewed the file.
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Which meant I had something I could use as a proxy for popularity. Jackpot.
​
I reordered the database. Suddenly a category I hadn't looked at yet came to the fore, one I didn't recognise. 'Cinema'; there was no translation for it, the translator didn't even seem to be able to approximate it in our language. I selected a file at random. At first I wasn't sure what I was looking at. It looked like documentary footage, but when I checked the tags it definitely said 'fiction'. I looked at a couple of other files in case that one had been mislabelled. Nope, they all looked like footage of humans going around doing human things. The fifth one I looked at I realised couldn't possibly be depicting real events. I might not know much about humans, but as an Amia I could be pretty sure about one thing and that was that humans can't fly. Peter Pan, whoever he was, was not a real person.
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Eventually I worked out that 'cinema' was something like an illustrated audiobook, except that there were as many voice artists as there were characters and they were trying to create the impression that they actually were the characters whose lines they were reading. Which is just weird. It's not unheard of to use different voice artists if a novel has a lot of characters just so the listener can keep track, but to have them there in front of you acting out the events taking place as if they're actually happening to them just surreal. Oh, and there's usually no narrator at all in human cinema; most of the storytelling that isn't dialogue is done purely through the visuals.
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Okay, so this was a type of theatre. Amia have never really gone in for people pretending to be other people as an artform; the whole thing just feels disingenuous. I mean, obviously fiction is about making things up but we prefer it to be delivered by a performer who's not pretending to be part of the action; a narrator or something similar. Actually having someone hide their identity and lie about who they are just makes us feel uncomfortable. However, it's not unheard of in other species. Not so much as a spectator art; most species that engage in that kind of thing like to do it as participants. Live action roleplay, it's called. But I was vaguely familiar with theatre from studying the Tenoptezae.
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The Tenoptezae have a rich tradition of theatre; all too often ignored by Amia, since it's not an artform that resonates with us. However, their theatre is a heavily stylized depiction of real or fictional events. Whereas from what I could see of humans, the goal in most cases seemed to be to make something that could be mistaken for real life at first glance. Almost like a simulation, except it was two-dimensional, to be viewed by an audience rather than experienced by a participant.
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Fascinating. From what I could see from the archive, cinema was one of the most popular artforms amongst humans. Music was very popular too, but you can't carve a statue out of sound (or at least, it takes a lot more imagination that I lay claim to). I decided to investigate further.
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Even having narrowed it down, however, the archive still had too many 'films' on file for me to watch even a small fraction. I had to find a more focused approach.
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I had taken to researching other species' art because I believed that it is by viewing ourselves through the lens of another's perspective that we truly know ourselves, and by exploring how we view others that we understand how we really think about ourselves. Pretentious? Maybe, but I am an artist.
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Where better place to start with humans, than to see how they portrayed aliens in their art? Especially how they'd imagined aliens before they made first contact, because everything after that would be less art and more documentary than I wanted.
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Filter by date: prior to human contact with the rest of the galaxy. Filter by topic tag: alien. Still far too many. Hmm. Filter by view count: top one percent. That would also ensure I only had films that resonated with the average human, rather than some lone weirdo's pet project. Okay, finally I had a reasonable number of files to watch. Still a lot, but I could get through at least a decent fraction of them. Where to start? Well, might as well just start at the top of the list and work my way down.
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'Alien'. The film was just called 'Alien'. Alright, a bit unimaginative but if no one had ever made a film about an alien before I suppose it's a logical title. It's definitely old, that date looks like it's from before humans even left their home planet. Perfect: this should show how humans imagined aliens would be before they had any idea of what was out there.
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It starts in space. Interesting, so the alien doesn't come to... what's their planet called. Earth? Really? They really are a very literal people. There's a spaceship, and here's its crew. Well, here are the actors, but let's go along with the conceit. They're waking up; apparently their voyage is taking so long they have to be put in suspended animation. And now they're eating dinner. And talking. More talking. Something about shares and profits. Are they really just transporting ore? Seems a bit... pedestrian. They're complaining because they think they're being asked to do something outside of their job description. I guess some things really are universal.
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And now they're going to a planet where, presumably, there is an alien. Hopefully it will welcome them with open arms and enlighten them with its wisdom and technology; with that junk-heap of a ship I'm sure they'd appreciate it. Huh... this planet doesn't look very hospitable. Personally, I would turn around and get out of there, but I suppose spacers are duty-bound to answer a potential distress call.
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That ship looks... well I guess whatever artist designed it wanted to make it look distinct from the human ship. Curving lines and almost organic textures, contrasting against the blocky, metallic human ship. Good visual storytelling. Okay, they're going inside. It looks abandoned. Maybe they're going to find an alien that sadly died before it could impart its wisdom to them; tragedy it a popular genre for a lot of species. Okay, yes, that thing is definitely dead. Dead to the point of being fossilized. I admit, I expected a film called 'Alien' in it to have an actual living alien but I supposed this counts.
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You know, even though I know perfectly well that this is all faked - it isn't even three dimensional for goodness sake - this is starting to give me second-hand anxiety. It's ridiculous but I can actually feel my feathers standing on end. Where's that one human going? Why's he going down to into the hold, he should just get out of there. See, look, you've fallen down. Told you. And there are a bunch of... eggs? What are you doing, don't touch that! It's an unknown alien lifeform, you don't know what it could... ah!
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Okay. He's injured but he's still alive, they're trying to get him onto the ship but their crewmate doesn't want to risk it. I'm sure that it's not considered good to abandon a crewmate like that but personally I can see her point. They've got him to the medical bay finally... but the alien has acid for blood. How did whoever made this even come up with that? Now they're discussing what to do; interesting moral quandary, choosing the fate of one of the crew over the rest.
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Hold on, it just came off? Without them doing anything? This may be the first film I've watched but that doesn't seem very narratively satisfying.
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Right, I think I get it. This is a cautionary tale against venturing into the unknown. Somewhat depressing but I suppose I can see how before humans developed space travel they would have viewed space as dangerous. We certainly did, although we dealt with it by imagining scenarios where someone was trapped in orbit of a black hole, or finding a planet where natural disasters were too extreme to survive. We never thought alien fauna would be much of a threat.
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Ah, it ends where it began: with them eating in the mess hall, just about to go back into suspended animation. Quite interesting that humans also use this storytelling palindrome, it was quite popular in Amia literature for a while to end a novel where it started.
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Wait, what's happening? Why is he coughing? Did the alien injure him? How much time is left of this film anyway, it can't be much longer, it feels like it's been going for hours.
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Oh. What's that? Is that blood? What's happening to his chest, is he...
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Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... WHAT IN THE &*%$ IS THAT?
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I paused the film and took a break after that. When I came back, the human's chest had still been eaten from the inside out by what looked like a worm with teeth. At this point I wasn't even sure I wanted to finish the rest of the film, but having come so far I was stubborn enough that I didn't want to let it defeat me. I mean, it wasn't as if it was even a hologram, I had no right to be this terrified of the stupid thing.
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Besides, surely it couldn't get any worse than that, right?
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And so I sat there and watched as one by one the eponymous alien hunted down the human crew. After it killed the captain, I stopped believing any of the humans would survive. I was watching through my fingers by the time it was revealed that one of the humans was actually a robot. I actually went and got a big stuffed blanket from my bed just because I felt more comfortable watching the film with something heavy held over my head. By the time it got down to the final crewman - the woman who hadn't even wanted to let the damn thing on board in the first place - I was simply waiting to see what grisly end she would meet. It surprised me as much as anything else in the film when she actually survived.
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The film finished with a list of names. All the people who'd been involved in making the film, just so I knew who to blame.
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Well, it was certainly an... experience. In fact I wasn't sure I'd ever experienced anything as intense as that. Documentary simulations, putting you in the middle of a hologram where you can tour other planets or other time periods... those can make you almost feel like you're really there, and yet still none of them had ever quite set my heart racing like 'Alien'.
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I guess the makers didn't subscribe to my view that there's no point in making art if no one is going to see it, because I couldn't imagine anyone would want to watch 'Alien'. At least not on purpose. And yet, the view count was in the billions. Did human parents force their children to watch this kind of thing so they could say: 'be good, or the alien will get you'?
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What really struck me, at least after I'd had a couple of hours to recover, was that even though humans are carnivorous hunters, in this piece they'd cast themselves as the prey. I'd been prepared for violence, but I'd expected that the the violence would be coming from the humans.
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As incredibly messed up as 'Alien' was, at least it didn't portray humans hunting down and devouring helpless aliens. In fact it portrayed the alien more like... well, more like we think of humans, to be honest. While the humans were the helpless prey.
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That was an interesting enough observation that I decided - after psyching myself up for a bit - that I'd go back and watch the next film on the list. 'Aliens'. Well, at least humans were consistently bad at titles. When it started I had no idea what it was about - the tags weren't that detailed - but it quickly became clear that it followed the story of the survivor from the previous film.
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This time, the humans fought back. Which made sense, since now they were aware of the danger. I thought that this must really just be the second half of the same story: first, humans encounter a threat. They are unprepared, and it kills them, but they learn from this mistake, go back, and destroy it. Broadly speaking, that kind of story arc is very common across many species: problem encountered, failure, learning, repeat, success.
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But then the humans started dying again. One by one, in horrific ways. Even though I knew it was all just acting, it was harder for me to instinctually pick up on the body-language cues that I would have been able to see with Amia. As far as my subconscious knew, these were real humans living through real events. I don't think I'll forget the moment the alien burst out the chest of the woman in the hive for as long as I live.
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They didn't all die, though. The same survivor from the last film survived again, and she didn't do it by running and hiding. When the juvenile human was captured and taken to the hive to be... urgh... implanted... she took weapons - even though it was clearly explained that she wasn't part of the human hunter caste - and went and challenged the xenomorphs in their hive to rescue the child. Of course, it is fiction, so the authors could create whatever scenario they liked, but the fact that it was at least plausible to them that a human would seek out and attack creatures that had already killed hundreds of humans was... well, interesting. Terrifying, may be the better word.
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Not that I was ever planning to, but I made a mental note never to act threateningly around a human child. Plenty of otherwise even-tempered species will react violently if you endanger their offspring, and apparently when you take an already violent species and you threaten to devour its young you get... well, you get Ellen Ripley and a flamethrower.
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And at last, when it finished, I started to understand. It was a cautionary tale, of a sort. But the lesson was not quite: do not venture into space, for it is dangerous. It was: on our own planet we are an apex predator, but when we step out of that environment we may not be. We must be prepared for that.
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Even though every sentient species neutralised their natural predators long before they achieved space travel, for most of them there was still the underlying instinct: we are prey animals, we must be cautious. It's certainly true of Amia. Going into space didn't really change anything, we didn't expect to face anything we hadn't already faced back home. As I said, we weren't really worried about hostile species; we'd conquered all our non-sentient predators, and why would we expect a sentient species to be violent? We weren't, after all.
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I don't think anyone had ever thought before about how a species that was an apex predator in its own ecosystem would react to leaving that ecosystem and finding themselves further down the food chain. A question no other species would ever have thought to ask, and yet to humans it was an obvious problem of leaving their home planet: what if we get out there, and we meet things like us, but worse? How do you hunt something that can hunt you?
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They dealt with it by making art addressing the possibility that the galaxy could be filled with things that were as violent as humans. And in that art they held a mirror up to their hopes and their fears, which is what art should be.
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I watched a few more films. 'Arrival'. 'Avatar'. 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind', and 'Contact'. Which made it abundantly clear that I'd started on just about the worst film possible. Still, it was called 'Alien'. Presumably it was at the top of the list because it was the seminal human work on aliens, the one film that informed their understanding of what other species would be like.
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It took me an embarrassingly long time to realise that a lot of the films on the list started with the same syllable as the ones next to them. I looked into the filter options and discovered that the archive was by default sorted according to something called 'alphabetical order'.
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'Alien' wasn't at the top of the list because it was considered the most important. It wasn't even the first film made about extra-terrestrial life. It was at the top of the list because it began with an 'a'.
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I was so angry I drilled through my TokTok sculpture and had to start over.
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As it turned out, I hadn't quite tortured myself for nothing. I continued scouring the archives for material related to cinema, and finally found written summaries and critiques of the films I'd been watching. I learned that the film 'Alien' really is considered an important milestone in human artistic depictions of aliens. I also learned that humans have an entire genre called 'horror', and that dangerous aliens hunting humans is a common subset of that.
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No wonder they weren't intimidated by the Kalu-Kamzku: they'd been preparing for aliens trying to kill them for centuries before they'd even left their home system.
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But horror isn't the only alien genre. Humans imagined contact with aliens as a peaceful, mutually beneficial encounter just as often as they imagined a brutal slaughter.
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Having explored humanity's complex relationship with fictional aliens, I branched out and investigated the rest of humanity's artistic culture, insofar as I had time to. For a relatively young species it was as diverse and elaborate as any other species in the known galaxy.
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However, in the end I kept the focus of the piece quite narrow, relying on human depictions of aliens to form the centrepiece of the work. The final sculpture had the same tableau in the background as other species; a bunch of carvings of human activities like fishing, trombone players, and tennis. I also carved an arch enclosing the pedestal.
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The human itself, though, my wooden archetype of the species... I carved him with his arms reaching upwards, grasping for the stars I carved on the arch. Beneath his feet the xenomorph, the predator, and other alien horrors from the darkest recesses of human imagination, trying to drag him back down to the ground. And on the arch, I placed genuine aliens... Yuenkei, TokTok, Amia, and more. Reaching out to him to pull him up. Because that is how I think we should greet humans. Science tells us they are vicious predators, but art... art shows us the truth.
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Humans believed that space might hold horrors beyond imagination (literally beyond imagination in my case, and I'm still not sure I didn't prefer that). They hoped for peaceful contact, but they spent centuries fearing what aliens might be out there in the cold depths of space.
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And yet they came to meet us anyway. In that, I see beauty.
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Kenshi is a sandbox RTS/RPG developed by Lo-Fi Games. Released in 2018, Kenshi allows us to live out the standard video game fantasy of getting beaten up a lot. Like...a lot a lot.
We play as an unfortunate nobody cast into the desolate world with little more than the rags on our back. Our destiny is up to us to decide. Warlord? Leader of a vast trade empire? Assassin? Or perhaps a more grim fate awaits us...
Gameplay starts out feeling a like a party based RPG until you hire enough recruits and amass enough resources to start building towns. At that point it switches more to an RTS/city builder hybrid. Combat is mostly RTS style with very limited interaction on your part other than outfitting your recruits.
The Good
I appreciate how the "early game is brutal" trope is handled here. Instead of playing coward until you have good geatraining, Kenshi encourages you to roll the dice. You -have- to take risks and get your butt kicked and it rewards you for playing that way. Getting beat up raises your toughness stat which makes you more resilient against further beatings. Eventually it takes so long to beat you up you start winning fights.
Base building is fun, provided you install at least a handful of mods to make placing buildings not dumb. Though you do have to prep a bit. If you try to build too early you'll just get swarmed by bandits. However, armed with 8 pack beasts worth of materials, you can build a monument to yours hubris that can withstand attack after attack, heaping the bodies of your enemies into corpse furnaces as you commence world domination.
The Bad
Death by a thousand cuts here. The pathing is atrocious. My caravans kept getting stuck on random hills waiting to die so I had to babysit them constantly. Anything going on inside a building is a camera angle nightmare. Getting new recruits up to speed and doing what you want is a grindy click marathon. Moving inventory around requires more micro management than any combat. The entire interface is one giant QOL disaster.
The Ugly
It's a sandbox experience in the purest sense. The world is mostly empty. There's a few competing kingdoms here and there but they don't grow or expand unless you will it. It's a blank slate to build on but there's really not much to build into. There's not a lot of lore/story to find. The planet you're on doesn't even have a name. However, chances are if you're into sandbox games none of that really matters to you.
The brutal world also stops being brutal after only a few hours. Once you get a squad of about 10~15 units equipped with crossbows and trained up a bit most fights end before they begin. Enemy AI is weak so building kill boxes to protect your town or attack others is trivial. It's nice growing stronger and all that but eventually the biggest danger you face is the pathing AI sending your units into an acid lake and you not noticing until it's too late.
Final Thoughts
Sandbox games are a hard experience for me to judge fairly as a patient gamer. I can see potential here if I was looking for a game to settle down with. I could probably spend weeks/months installing any of the thousands of mods out there to make a really amazing, immersive and deep world to play in. It's a decent enough game to waste time in but as it stands I achieved my set goal of conquering the kingdom that beat me up the most at the start and now I'm ready to move on.
Interesting Game Facts
Kenshi initially started as a project written/developed by just one dude. There's something about the survival/sandbox genre that it's always just one guy whose like, "You know hwat..."
Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions and experiences!
My other reviews on patient gaming

Hello! I (26F) made this account specifically to ask this question, because I've looked all over the internet and I cannot find any advice for this or anyone else describing the same situation.
I only get dandruff right after I've washed my hair. And it gets better as my hair gets oilier. People usually seem to report the opposite? The flakes are very small, they don't look big and yellow and oily, it looks like a very fine white or even translucent powder basically. I don't get many, it doesn't fall onto my shoulders, it seems to be mostly around the front of my head near my hairline, and it kinda stays there unless I actively brush it out. It usually goes away about 24h after washing my hair.
I've switched my shampoo to a very gentle one, it's a fragrance-free baby shampoo with Sodium Coco Sulfate instead of SLS. I used to use a salon shampoo with fragrance and SLS and salycilic acid (which I didn't realise, I think I might be sensitive to it as I've reacted to face washes with salycilic acid before) and that was when it was at its worst. I also experienced itching and tenderness back then, and I actually had a small (very small, I would say less than a centimeter) scaly patch of skin near my hairline.
I switched to Johnson's baby shampoo first, and that seemed to improve the situation slightly, but not significantly.
The fragrance free baby-shampoo I'm currently using has significantly reduced the 'symptoms' of whatever this is to just some mild to minor (depends on the day) dandruff right after I wash my hair, no more scaly patch or itching and tenderness.
I have also installed a shower filter since we have pretty hard water in my area. This also seems to have helped a bit, but hasn't gotten rid of the issue.
I have oily skin and my hair starts looking a little oily at the roots after about 24h, sometimes earlier. I can usually go about 2 days without washing my hair before it looks visibly dirty at the roots.
I went to a dermatologist who thinks it might be seborrheic dermatitis and prescribed a shampoo with an antifungal but I have been hesitant to try it as the possible side effects (and some of the reviews report this) include hair loss, which isn't something I'm experiencing at the moment, and I don't want to have my hair fall out just to get rid of some mild to minor dandruff. I'm also not sure about the diagnosis because of the fact that, as I said, the dandruff seems to go away after about 24h once my scalp is a bit oiler.
This is a new dermatologist who I've never gone to before. There is a dermatologist I trust in my home country (I live abroad) who effectively treated my acne by suggesting very gentle, fragrance and irritant-free products, while all other dermatologists prescribed very harsh cleansers and drying topical treatments that made my skin peel off. The dermatologist who finally helped me said I have very sensitive skin with a weak skin barrier, so even though my skin is oily and one might be tempted to strip it, I actually have to make sure I don't do that, use very gentle products and make sure to protect it. I've been following the very minimalistic routine he recommended for years now and it has saved my skin. My acne has been under control since. I'm going to spend a couple weeks in my home country visiting my parents soon and I managed to book an appointment with him at the end of the month, and I'm really hoping he can help me.
However, in the meantime, since I'm growing increasingly frustrated and anxious, I wanted to come on here and ask if anyone else has experienced something like this and knows what the cause might be/how to fix it.
While I do have oily, acne-prone skin, I've never really suffered from dandruff before, and my mum assures me that I never even had cradle cap as a baby. I also have very sensitive skin, and I suffer from contact dermatitis (but it doesn't present like this. My skin gets horrifically itchy and tingly, red, etc. when that happens).
The only other time I can remember experiencing dandruff is a couple of years ago, during a very stressful period. It was basically the same as what I'm experiencing right now, and went away on its own after a few weeks I think? But this has been going on for months, and started off much worse (when I was using the salon shampoo) and has only improved after switching to this very gentle shampoo.
I'm very confused and cannot find any examples of this online. I would be very grateful to anyone who can offer some insight.
Sorry for the length, I just thought I would include as much information as possible!
Thank you in advance. 🩷
Edit: Before the salon shampoo, I used to use sulphate-free shampoos from eco-friendly brands, formulated for an oily scalp. They usually contained essential oils such as rosemary oil, or plant extracts like nettle, ivy and watercress. I think thyme and sage are two other ingredients that I can remember off the top of I my head. I stopped using them because I heard/read from many sources that these ingredients can cause issues for people with sensitive skin, though I wasn't experiencing any at the time. In fact, I don't think my scalp had ever been in better condition. I've been considering giving one of those shampoos I used to use a try again, but I'm hesitant.

My wife and I live in Indianapolis with a two-story 3000 square foot home. We have a ten year old HVAC system that the neighborhood builder apparently took the cheapest route possible on.
We have an HVAC company that comes and does tuneups for us twice a year. Last year, they told us our furnace was going out and we’d need to get a new one, but thanks to hvacadvice we learned that it was actually just Nest’s fault. Slotted in an ecobee and it was fine all winter (although the blower motor is going out). Then this spring, our company came out to tune up our AC and told us we failed our MEG check, the compressor windings are going bad, the armaflex is rotting, and the condenser pad is sinking into the ground. Said they could do an acid test but it’d just be spending good money chasing bad, and we’d be better off just running it into the ground this summer and getting a new unit once it breaks.
Our HVAC company offered three different tiers of systems they could sell us - $10,500 for “bronze” (3 ton 13.4 SEER2, 60k BTU 96%), $14,500 for “silver” (2.5 ton 15.6 SEER2, 80K BTU 96% Amana furnace), $18,800 for “gold” (2.5 ton 17 SEER2, 80k BTU 96% furnace, custom thermostat, gold coils).
I checked with my neighbor who knows a guy in our neighborhood that redid his whole hvac in 2020 for $4500 with Amana, and it’s been working great for four years. So I called the neighborhood guy and he’s telling me he’d install a 96% efficient Amana furnace and a 14. SEER2 AC for $7600. I asked him how he can be so much cheaper, because Amana provides the same 10-year warranty with him and he throws in a year of free labor as well for that price. He told me the HVAC companies all pay the same price for materials, so my company is just taking a huge markup and hoping I don’t notice.
Neighborhood guy is obviously less formal (my “quote” was two text messages, as opposed to a detailed PDF), but I’m having trouble justifying spending thousands more just for a fancier company to do the work. Is $10,500 reasonable for a new system? Is $7600?
I’m told this is fairly time sensitive because the government is changing refrigerants soon which is going to make prices go up by about 20%.
Thanks for any input/wisdom you folks can share!

For "final boss", I mean the big bad of most routes. If there's one route where you don't fight them, but every other route, you fight them, they're the final boss for most players.
The Master
Unique qualities: The master is the only Fallout final boss with multiple voice actors. He's the only entirely immobile final boss in the series.
Impact on the series: The master created Super Mutants, who exist in every installment after this point, in an attempt to create a new type of human that survives better in the wasteland.
You can join him, but doing so instantly triggers an ending where your character is dropped in a vat and dies, so... not super worth it.
Almost definitely the most intelligent villain in the Fallout series, by virtue of having a lot of brains connected to him. Also arguably the least charismatic, by virtue of being a gross melty head. His special stats are all 10, except charisma (2) and luck (7).
The master is such a lore dump and it's incredible. For the first game in the series, they really jumped in on the body horror. I can't say the master is relatable, per se, but that's because the master is no longer human, so it's valid. His motivations are clearly explained, and the reason behind what he does is really well talked about, and he has this bizarre menace behind his speech that's really hard to replicate. Super Mutants are really threatening in Fallout 1 as well, so it's very nice to see that their creator is absolutely terrifying in a totally different way.
My personal favorite villain in the series because he had an impact on every other game in the series.
Frank Horrigan
Unique qualities: Frank Horrigan is the first case in the series of the final villain being a very buff follower of a charismatic but weak leader. This would be done again for the majority of the series going forward.
Potentially the goriest death in the series. The man snaps in half at the waist then crawls around his own body to try to keep fighting, before collapsing, giving a final speech, then dying in a massive gas explosion. There's a whole lot of gross there.
He's a rare case where he cannot be reasoned with or avoided, he must be fought directly, but with the right perks and decisions, you can have a team of Enclave soldiers as well as several automated turrets trained on him to help with the fight, along with your own group of misfits.
The only super mutant final boss in the series.
Frank is a big scary patriot, sort of showing off the toxicity of patriotism in the old world, and from the Enclave. I'd call the master a "progressive villain" within the context of fallout, focusing on brutal means to progress. Frank Horrigan is a "conservative villain", trying to bring back what was.
With him, the Enclave died. Apparently. Then it was brought back for Fallouts 3 and 4. I think the Enclave was such a hit in 2 that they couldn't help themselves.
Colonel Autumn
He's very similar to Frank Horrigan, again a loyal soldier working for the Enclave, which he refers to occasionally as "The United States of America."
Autumn has more endings than Horrigan, which is nice to see. He can die, or he can be allowed to leave and get promptly gunned down by someone else. Autumn also has the distinction of... not being the last survivor of the Enclave, just a wing of it. The Enclave will continue after his death, but the Brotherhood of Steel takes over a lot of their territory. It's sort of an ending where like... any given thing could happen because the next game might take place way later than this one.
Legate Lanius
Caesar, the leader of Caesar's legion, is not built to live for very long. He's weak, he has cancer, and to be frank, he's not very smart, but he is charismatic and driven towards a single goal, so he got a following.
Lanius is the best part of that following. He's militaristically brilliant, jacked, and has no aspirations to overthrow Caesar. Caesar struck an absolute gold mine with this guy.
He's the first main villain of Fallout you can side with, and not get melted in acid. He's also arguably the strongest villain in the series, physically, since Horrigan had power armor on and this guy's rocking Roman armor and a sword. Like a normal sword.
For me, Lanius is a big explosion to cap off every decision you made up to the point where you met him. You see little bits of every faction you allied with, and how they help you in different ways, and depending on what you did you can just absolutely crush this poor cosplayer with your army of horrible people, talk him down entirely, or struggle in a fight against a very armed legion against you and the one person and two robots who stuck with you. The real meat of New Vegas is the long cutscene after Lanius dies, detailing what happens to everyone you dealt with, and the ridiculous cutscene in the DLC detailing how every appliance lived after you left.
Father
He's the little baby from the intro, now matured into an old as heck man who's trying to reform Boston.
This is by far the physically weakest final boss in the game, and the only one who will absolutely not have anything resembling a real boss fight- this is mostly because he's actively dying, trying to leave some relative (or replica of his relative, depending on which side of that debate you're on) behind to run his secret underground sentient robot lab in his place.
He's the first main villain since The Master to create a new form of life in the Fallout series, and also the first villain since The Master to be leading a faction, though his faction is... worse since he doesn't command the absolute obedience of the Synths he created for some reason. They can rebel, leave, start revolutions, even literally shoot institute scientists and there is no cutoff for that. They're also only used as spies, assassins, shopkeeps, and janitors, which seems... sort of shortsighted.
He's the only villain in the series where the player controls their appearance.
He's the first villain in the series to be nuked off the face of the earth in most endings, though the Master and Horrigan both die in explosions. He's also a rare case where you can side with him, but there is no ending where he survives.

Hi all,
I just got my PowerBook 190 (the eBay seller said it was a 190cs, but there are no Cs or Ss on the label, so... *shrug*), took it apart expecting leaky caps and battery acid everywhere, and was... not disappointed. The battery leakage was pretty minimal, some frame oxidation and the EM shield was oxidized (as you'd expect) and cleaned up pretty nicely with some vinegar and a toothbrush.
Most of it's pretty much undamaged, but the battery connector was corroded to the point of 2 pins being fragile enough to break off while I was cleaning them. Is there a source for new (or new old stock) battery connectors that I can solder onto the board, or do I need to try my luck with another 190/5300 series to cannibalize parts off of? Can it be rebuilt? Does that connector have a standard name one could use at, like, Digikey? On a similar vein, will this thing boot with no battery detected?
Otherwise, this seems like a really good shape example of a 190. I don't know how the screen is since I haven't turned it on, but it doesn't *look* like it's had vinegar syndrome (the telltale diagonal streaks aren't present). I took the floppy drive apart, cleaned the heads with rubbing alcohol on a Q-tip (gently) and applied a small dab of red automotive grease to the worm gear (I don't have white grease on hand, but I have about 10,000 floppy drives worth of red grease). The ejector gear is nylon, and *seemed* okay, but I haven't energized the motor and tested it yet. I don't foresee needing the floppy drive much anyway.
I know I can rebuild the battery internals, but if the connector on the logic board is unobtanium or not rebuildable then there's probably no point to proceeding with battery rebuild.
I have a blueSCSI on the way, plus a 4gb CF>IDE and CF>PCMCIA adapter, so I can hopefully either copy the existing data somewhere safe, or install a fresh operating system from scratch when possible. On that topic, what's the recommended maximum System software for this thing? Are there any cool 3rd-party OS that'll run on it like MorphOS on PPC or BeOS/Haiku?

As solar energy continues its meteoric rise, so does the interest in pairing solar panels with battery storage systems. But is it right for you? Understanding the ins and outs of solar batteries is key to making an informed decision that maximizes your energy savings and resilience.

Why Consider Battery Storage?

Solar batteries store the excess electricity your panels produce during peak sunlight hours. This stored energy can then power your home at night, during cloudy days, or even during power outages, providing you with energy independence and security.

Key Questions to Ask Before Investing:

What Are My Energy Needs and Goals?

• Usage Patterns: Analyze your electricity bill to understand when you use the most power. Do you have high nighttime usage?
• Backup Power: How important is it to have power during outages?
• Environmental Impact: Are you aiming to maximize your reliance on renewable energy?

What Type of Battery is Best for Me?

• Lithium-ion: The most common type, offering good energy density and lifespan.
• Lead-acid: More affordable but less efficient and with a shorter lifespan.
• Flow batteries: Emerging technology with potential for long-duration storage.

What Size Battery Do I Need?

• Daily Usage: Calculate your average daily electricity consumption to determine how much storage you need for a full day.
• Backup Duration: How many days of backup power do you desire? This will impact battery capacity.

What Are the Costs Involved?

• Upfront Cost: Battery systems can be pricey, but prices are falling.
• Installation: Factor in labor and any electrical upgrades needed.
• Maintenance: Some batteries require minimal maintenance, while others may have higher upkeep costs.

What Incentives Are Available?

• Federal Tax Credits: The Investment Tax Credit (ITC) may offset a portion of the cost.
• State and Local Incentives: Check for additional rebates or programs in your area.

How Will the Battery Integrate with My Solar System?

• Compatibility: Ensure the battery is compatible with your existing solar inverter or plan for a hybrid inverter.
• Monitoring and Control: What kind of monitoring and control systems are available to optimize energy usage?

What is the Battery's Lifespan and Warranty?

• Cycle Life: How many charge and discharge cycles can the battery handle before its capacity significantly degrades?
• Warranty: What does the warranty cover, and how long does it last?

How Will the Battery Impact My Energy Bills?

• Net Metering: If you have net metering, will the battery impact how much credit you receive for excess energy production?
• Time-of-Use Rates: Can you leverage the battery to store energy during off-peak hours and use it during peak hours to save money?

Additional Questions to Consider:

• Safety: What safety features are built into the battery?
• Environmental Impact: Are the materials used in the battery recyclable?
• Noise: Do certain battery types produce noise during operation?

FAQ

• Do I need a battery to go solar? No, you can have a solar system without a battery, but it limits your ability to use solar energy when the sun isn't shining.
• Can I add a battery to my existing solar system? Often, yes! But it depends on your system's compatibility. Consult a solar professional for guidance.
• How long does it take to charge a solar battery? It depends on the battery size and your solar panel output. Typically, it takes several hours of peak sunlight.

Conclusion

By asking the right questions and thoroughly researching your options, you can find a battery storage solution that meets your needs and helps you maximize the benefits of your solar investment. Remember, a qualified solar professional can provide personalized advice tailored to your specific circumstances.

Read More: Tips For Getting The Best Solar Quotes

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[INDEX]
I banked the fire and stared into the golden eyes of Beatale before I crept into my makeshift tent.
I still had my auric vision running and couldn’t help but notice the thin silver cord that ran from me to Horse. Firming up my aura, I reached out with my hand and grabbed it. I could feel the nearly imperceptible vibration between my fingers as I used my mind to probe at the thread. I could feel a bright spark of intellect, a light at the end of a tunnel. Pushing with my mind, I slid down the thread until the spark grew larger and eventually filled my inner vision with a hazy white light. Horsey thoughts nudged at me curiously.
I slid into the haze and immediately lost all sense of direction. If it wasn’t for the silver thread, I’d have no idea how to exit this shifting white fog. Horsey thoughts got stronger as I followed the thread while the haze thinned and cleared to reveal an endless prairie of green grass. I found myself standing before a naked man wearing a horse mask and I stared in shock. It was obviously me wearing a cheap costume horse mask — there was no mistaking my tattoos.
“What did you expect?” Horse neighed at me. “I am you and you are me and we are all together. Goo goo ga joob.”
Horse made a shooing motion with his hands and I accelerated backwards through the white haze and slammed into my own body with a gasp. I stared at the tarp overhead for a long minute, processing this new revelation. Horse was a part of me, a piece of my spirit. Whatever psychic stuff I did with that silver cord lead me into a house of mirrors where I got to look at myself pretending to be a horse. I can’t even deal with that right now.
Rolling into my blankets, I dropped off to sleep.
*Ding*
-=- - Welcome to the Dreamworld - Included in the Psychic Skills pack, the Inner Sanctum is your psychic domain. It is the mental fortress that you must secure and maintain to defend against psychic and spiritual assaults. All of your neurosis and fears are symbolised in this realm and must be defeated or subjugated before you can become master of the domain. Good luck. -=-
I banished the pop-up and looked around. I knew I was asleep, but everything was just as real as when I was awake. I was breathing, I could feel the floor under my feet, and if it weren’t for the pop-up, I would have sworn I had been teleported. The room I was in resembled an oversized luxury prison cell, maybe a thirty foot cube. No windows. Rough stone walls with thick mortar. Large brass wall sconces were set directly into the stone and suffused the room with a warm, golden light provided by glowing rocks. The stone floor had colourful Persian rugs tastefully placed. A high plaster ceiling was painted with a rendition of Michelangelo’s ‘Creation of Adam’, depicting me as both Adam and God.
There was a comfy sofa in front of a large screen television that hung from one wall and an ornate grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner. It was currently 10:08 PM. Another wall was a floor to ceiling bookshelf, stuffed with books of varying sizes. The third wall was covered with pictures and I could see at a glance that they were images from my life. The fourth wall had a thick riveted steel door on the right side, a full sized mirror on the left, and a computer workstation in the middle.
The picture wall was my first target. A few were quite large, nearly life sized, while others were tiny prints no larger than the palm of my hand. Scenes of my life were displayed in each one. The largest was me riding Horse with a shit-scared expression, shooting at a pack of wolves. Others were smaller, each with different frames. Some ornate gold or silver, others plain wood, a few wrapped in briars or barbed wire. Nanny Ramsey holding me as a young child. My dog Jean with a red ball in his mouth. My parents, screaming at me. I turned my attention to the books. Books are safe. Books don’t judge you.
The sweet, musty scent of a used book store filled my nostrils as I drew close to the honey coloured shelves. Hundreds of volumes filled the wall from floor to ceiling, with a ladder that could be rolled along a rail to access the top. I smiled at the sight. I had always wanted a library like this. I pulled a book at random and read the title, “Confused Fantasies about Joseph Harris, part XXIV of the Middle School Years”.
I slid the book back onto the shelf. Let’s see what’s on TV.
The remote was a slim, futuristic looking affair with a minimum of buttons. I pointed it at the television and moments later the huge screen came to life and presented me with a simple menu for movies, divided into six categories: Happy, Surprised, Afraid, Disgusted, Angry, and Sad. I scrolled through the offerings for a minute, reading the titles and reviews about the movies of my life. It really bothered me that there were so few selections in the Happy section.
The number of Sad movies increased by one.
I walked over to the mirror and noticed there was a small sticky note pasted to it. “Astral Realm. Experienced users only.” I shoved the note in my pocket and stared at my image. Sturdy black boots, black denim jeans and shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons, deep brown gun belt slung at my hip, red bandanna and black felt hat. All I needed was a pencil moustache and I would look like the stereotypical villain in any spaghetti western. At that very moment I decided to grow out a goatee. I’d rather be mistaken for a bad guy than a victim.
So how does this astral realm thing work?
The mirror appeared to be nothing more than a mirror. It was cold, smooth glass surrounded by a wrought iron frame, and reflected my image. I didn’t necessarily want to go walking into danger, but I wanted to know how it worked. I pushed and prodded the glass in frustration until I noticed my image grinning at me. I jumped back in surprise and it doubled over in silent laughter.
“Hilarious, dude. You got me,” I huffed. “So how do I get in?”
My mirror-self tipped his hat and stepped to side.
I reached up to the mirror again and my hand passed through, vanishing as if cut off. Okay, just a quick peek and we’ll explore the rest of the room. I stepped through and the world shifted around me. I was standing back at the campsite. My body was insubstantial as a ghost and the tarp was a wisp of substance running straight through me. Non living things don’t seem to have much presence in this realm. Glancing down, I saw my sleeping body rolled up in the blankets, a thin silver thread running from it to me, and another thread running to Horse.
Looking around, I surveyed the campsite. My astral vision seemed to be on and had an unlimited range. I could see the life all around me, the distant forest was a sea of greenish-gold, grasses and brush nearby glowed with spectral light. Tiny ghost insects scurried while ghost mice nibbled at whatever ghost mice nibble on. Ghost seeds and ghost insects, I suppose. I turned my attention overhead and gaped at the sight of a monstrous serpentine spirit flying through the inky void. I dropped back through the tent and rolled inside my body. That was plenty enough for now.
I rolled through the mirror and landed flat on my back, staring at the fresco on the ceiling. Vinnie-God winked at me and Vinnie-Adam grinned. Climbing to my knees, I brushed non-existent dust from my trousers and watched mirror-me doubled over in soundless laughter.
“Hey, laughing-boy!” I yelled at him. “You’re like the guardian or something, right? You got it covered?”
Mirror-me stood and saluted with a smile, then gave me two thumbs up. A moment later, his face took on a serious expression and he wriggled his right hand in the ‘maybe’ motion. Then he pointed at me, tapped his wrist, and then a finger to his head.
It all depends on how fast I learn stuff, I guess.
Two thumbs up and a winning smile reflected back to me.
A large cork board was mounted to the wall over the computer and a small note was pinned to it. “Note to self: Don’t fuck with the Elvish womens.”
The computer screen featured a screensaver of me as Vitruvian Man doing callisthenics over the words ‘HumanOS’. I tapped the spacebar and was rewarded with the sound of powerful fans kicking to life as the computer emerged from sleep mode and prompted me for a password. Should I assume it’s the same as the password on the computer I pawned in my previous life?
Password: *******esi
I was rewarded with a sweet R&M desktop and a couple of icons. System, NeuralNet, My-Tunes, My-Movies, My-Office.
System was just what I expected, lots of .dna files and other confusing scariness that allowed me to tweak my physical body and mental state. My-Tunes was a collection of every song I’d ever heard and My-Movies was a collection of every movie I’d ever seen. Not that I’m complaining, but it would have been nice to have “My-Games” so I could play RDR. My-Office was a clone of the popular software by a similar name. I have no idea what I’ll ever need a spreadsheet for in this world.
NuralNet opened up a search engine called Me-Seeks, featuring a familiar blue guy.
I typed in “beer” and several thousand results were displayed, anything I’d ever read, heard, or watched about beer, including how to make it. This right here made the price of admission totally worth it, access to an exact copy of everything I’d ever read, and I was a voracious reader. Sadly, most of the stuff I read was futurology — solar panels, electronics, biotech advancements, quantum computing. The material for steam engines, blacksmithing, farming and the like, were slim pickings. That’s okay though, I could still reproduce the Gutenberg press, the cotton gin, simple internal combustion engines, and basic batteries along with some sketchy knowledge of metal alloys, acids, bases, and other things I had read over the years. All that wasted time watching “How Things Work” was finally going to pay off. I copied a few likely money makers to My-Office, saved the file, and exported to my Notes, just in case they didn’t exist on Aerth.
A popup covered the screen.
📱 [New Upgrade Available!] 📱
🎉 Enhance Your Experience with the Latest HumanOS Features! 🎉
🌟 Features Include:

• 🧠 Memory Booster: Increase your Memory for smoother multitasking and improved performance.
• 🔋 Energy Optimizer: Extend your battery life with advanced power-saving techniques.
• 🛠️ Utility Upgrades: Access new apps and utilities to enhance your daily life and adventures.
• 🗺️ Advanced Mapping: Never get lost again with enhanced GPS and location tracking.

🔥 Special Offer: Only 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0! 🔥
[Upgrade Now ✅] [Remind Me Later ❌]
Apparently I could upgrade myself, which reduced the cost of using my Utilities while providing other minor benefits. My Utilities would level up as I used them, which would increase their battery cost, so if I didn’t keep pace with an update to the OS they could become prohibitively expensive to operate.
Stupid pay-to-win world.
So, do I pay 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0?
I selected version 3.0 and klicked [Install]. After watching it download the update, it popped up another screen that asked if I wanted to update now, or wait until Midnight for the mandatory update.
I selected [No] just as the grandfather clock chimed 10:30 PM. I wondered if time ran slower in here, because it seemed like I had spent a lot more time on the computer than 15 minutes. Walking over to the imposing steel door, I noticed a bronze key with a thin chain in the lock. There was another sticky note on the door. “Subconscious. Please keep the key with you at all times.”
That’s not scary at all, is it?
I unlocked the door with a loud clunk and pulled it open to reveal a bedroom straight out of some royal castle. I could tell immediately that it had seen better days. The tapestries on the wall were frayed and fading. The canopy over the bed had a few holes in it. A thin layer of dust covered the mantle of a small fireplace set into the wall. There was a window letting in bright sunlight and I moved over to look outside.
I was on the third floor of a keep surrounded by the walls and turrets of a modest castle. A castle that had fallen into serious disrepair. Did this represent the state of my inner mind? One tower was shattered and the curtain wall under it damaged. The lower bailey was full of litter. I could see a few soldiers walking around the allure, keeping watch.
I have people in my subconscious?
Someone behind me cleared their throat.
Whirling, I discovered a familiar old man standing in the door of the bedroom. What was left of his hair formed a white halo around his head, his face was unshaven and covered with several days of growth. He was dressed like a poor and tattered manservant, but carried himself with a dignified air.
“Woodhouse?”
“It’s nice to see the master at home,” He said with a proper English accent. “There are many matters that require the master’s attention.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, hanging the key around my neck and tucking it in my shirt. “And who are you again?”
“Your personal manservant, of course” he said with a slight bow. Walking over to the steel door, he pulled it closed and it locked with a solid thunk. “Master should always keep his inner sanctum closed. One never knows if something nasty will creep in.”
“Thank you, uh, Woodhouse. I’ll remember that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “So what needs tending and how do things work around here?”
He smiled and beckoned me with a white gloved hand. “If master would be so kind as to follow me, I’ll introduce him to the staff and explain the duties and obligations of his domain.”
I’m 99.9% certain that everyone here is just me wearing a mask, so I shrugged and followed Woodhouse out of the bedroom and into the rest of my subconscious.
Five minutes later I was on the ground floor and seated on a shabby throne with the cast of a popular —and probably very copyright protected— animation in front of me. Woodhouse was the head butler and my personal manservant. Pam was the cook and demanded that I start importing sugar and alcohol before she was shushed by Woodhouse. Carol was a maid. Krieger was chancellor and Cyril was the steward. Archer and Lana were in charge of security. Ray was the marshal in charge of everything from the stables to the blacksmith.
I stared in disbelief at the motley crew kneeling in front of me. No wonder my inner mind was in such shambles. I was overcome with an irrational sense of anger at myself.
“Arright, listen up,” I barked, my voice echoing around the room. “I swear to God that I will fire every single one of you and hire circus clowns to replace you if you keep fucking things up. No joke. Circus clowns, got it?”
I ran a hand over my face as Ray pissed himself. “The only reason I’m not putting a boot in your asses right now is because I realise that you’re aspects of me, and the people you represent are pretty damn good at their jobs when they give enough of a shit to actually do them. As a team, you’re dysfunctionally fantastic and always seem to come out ahead no matter the odds.”
Heaving a sigh, I continued. “Things have changed and I need to get my shit together. I’m going to need every one of you to pull your weight and help me help you. Get back to your duties, I’ll meet you one on one later.”
My subconscious caretakers scurried out of the room.
“I’ll have one of the maids tend to the piss,” Woodhouse assured me.
“Never mind that,” I snapped. “I honestly had no idea my mind was such a shit show. I’m very disappointed in myself.” I pictured the Angry, Sad, and Disgusted counters on my personal movies clicking up. “Show me what needs to be done and let’s get started.”
During Woodhouse’s walking tour, everything clicked into place. This was some altered version of Bodiam castle, a location that was on my bucket list of places to visit. The royal council room, located behind the throne room, contained a “living” tapestry on the wall that showed the castle and surrounding land in real time. The castle was located in the middle of a small lake, and a single wood bridge led to the mainland. A small town surrounded the lake and a wall encircled the town. Outside the wall, the land was an irregular patchwork of forest and field, with a stinking swamp to the south. The entire “kingdom” was maybe ten miles across, surrounded by impassable mountains with innumerable creeks that fed the lake which drained into the southern swamp.
“Zombies are the problem, sir.” Woodhouse said, as I surveyed the living tapestry of my mental domain.
“Zombies?” I prompted.
“Yes sir, Zombies” Woodhouse continued. “Nasty bitey things that come in from the mountains and harass the peasants. They’ve gotten especially worse over the last few months. The soldiers do what they can, but they seem to have lost all motivation. Probably because they haven’t been paid.”
“And who pays them?”
“Typically chancellor Krieger is in charge of financial matters, although Steward Figgis has taken over the duty, sir.”
“Then let’s make Figgis our first stop.”
“Very good, sir.”
The office of the steward was run by Cyril Figgis, who managed the kingdom in my absence. It was overflowing with paperwork and charts, books and scrolls piled high on every flat surface. Cyril was desperately attempting to tidy things when Woodhouse and I walked in.
“Yo..you..your majesty,” Cyril stuttered, bowing low. Scrolls fell from his overloaded arms, spilling across the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to gather them up. “I didn’t expect you to visit so soon. Please forgive the mess, housekeeping has been slacking…”
This was the guy who ran things while I was conscious.
“Shut up, Cyril” I said. “You’re responsible for everything in this office. That includes keeping it organised and tidy.”
“Y..yes milord.”
“It’s my understanding that you’re in charge of making sure everyone gets paid. So why aren’t we paying people?” I asked.
“We’re nearly out of Fuks, your majesty. I’ve been saving them for emergencies.”
“Fucks?”
“Fuks,” Cyril explained, pushing a pile of books off a large chest and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled out two small bags and emptied them on top of his cluttered desk. “Gold and Silver Fuks, the currency of the kingdom. I can’t maintain the kingdom when I have no Fuks to give.”
Behold the subconscious kingdom of Vincent J. Carter, it runs on Fuks.
“So how do I get more fuks?” I asked, examining one of the coins. It had an image of me on one side and symbol on the other that could be interpreted as “peace among worlds”.
“You kill the zombies, your majesty.”
Of course I do.
Woodhouse and I left Cyril’s office and headed towards the office of the chancellor where Krieger worked. It seemed that Cyril took over financial matters when Krieger became erratic and proposed luring all the zombies into the city and setting it on fire. Not sure how that corresponds to my own self-destructive behaviour, but I’ve had some dark thoughts over the last couple of months and I’m sure they’re reflected here.
Krieger’s office was much neater in comparison to Cyril’s, but it wasn’t by much. Shelves lined the walls and were filled with an array of questionable items, including a still snapping zombie head in a jar. While the office of the chancellor was supposed to be in charge of financial matters, it looked more like a dodgy rummage sale.
Krieger was launching sword blades at a pig carcass when we walked in.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked, standing in the doorway.
“Hm? Oh, your majesty!” he said, turning around and bowing deeply. “I’m testing a new invention. It’s a spring loaded hilt that shoots sword blades. Very useful for our soldiers.”
“Stupidest idea ever,” I snapped. “I hate everything about it.”
“Okay,” Krieger said, tossing the hilt into a nearby pile of junk. “But don’t blame me when you need to shoot a sword at a zombie and don’t have one.”
“So why aren’t you managing the financial affairs? Collecting taxes, paying people, stuff like that?”
“Because the population has declined so much none of that matters?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wellll, the population represents things you care about,” Krieger said, going into lecture mode. “And the zombies and other monsters are real or imagined problems in your way. Since you don’t care about too many things the population has shrunk to just what’s needed to keep everything running on the bare minimum of fuks. And since you don’t seem to have any long or short term goals, there’s no need to kill off the zombies and get more fuks. Everything is fine just the way it is.”
“No, it’s not Krieger” I said, grinding my teeth. “My mind is in a shambles. It’s a joke. I want it fixed. No, I want it better than fixed. I want it improved.”
“Oh! I’ve got just the thing for that!” He said, digging around in his pockets, “It’s a spring-loaded hilt that shoots swords!”
Pam and Cheryl were hanging out a gallery window jeering at Archer and Lana sparring in the inner courtyard.
“What the hell are you doing!” I snapped
They whirled in surprise and then dropped into deep curtseys.
“Your majesty!”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my centre. “Get to work cleaning this place up. Find a room, clean it, and move on to the next. Start with my bedroom, then the throne room and the council chamber, then everything else.”
Cheryl spoke up. “Can’t do it. We got no fuks to clean with.”
“You need fuks to clean?”
“Gotta buy stuff,” Pam said. “Cleaning supplies, food. You wanna eat, you’re gonna have to spend some fuks.”
“Talk to Cyril,” I ordered. “Tell him I said to get you supplied.”
They ran off in the direction of the stewards office.
I watched Archer and Lana bashing each other enthusiastically through the window.
Several minutes later the sparring couple stopped and bowed when Woodhouse and I stepped into the inner courtyard.
“Your majesty”
“My liege”
“Enough,” I said. “If you have enough energy to smash each other, you have enough energy to smash zombies. Tell me what I need to know so I can start gathering fuks.”
Archer shrugged and spoke first. “You just kill the zombies and other monsters. They drop fuks.”
“Anything special about the zombies?” I asked. “Are they fast? Do people get turned into zombies when bitten?”
“Nope,” Lana said, resting her wooden sword on her shoulder. “Most of them are slow shamblers and just need a good wack to the head to kill them.”
“Some are special,” Archer interjected. “Occasionally you’ll have some fast ones, or those that need holy water to kill. They’re just bad memories, figments of your personality that need to be eliminated. Some are worse than others.”
“The zombies are bad memories?” I asked, imagining all the bad memories that I had.
“Memories, thoughts, insecurities, metaphysical mumbo-jumbo,” Woodhouse supplied. “They are endless, but constant vigilance can keep them under control.”
“So let’s get started,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Lana and Archer lead me up to the parapet over the front gate where I looked over at the dozens of zombies milling about aimlessly in front of the entrance to my mind. Pulling out my gun, I began to pick them off, easy as shooting fish in a barrel. The crack of my spell pistol attracted more zombies and I dispatched them with ease until no more were left around the gate. As I fired each shot I could feel some sort of existential energy flowing from me, draining some hidden reserve.
“Gather up the Fuks,” I commanded. “And Lana?”
“Mi’lord?”
“There’s no excuse for this. From now on, I expect the walls to be clear of all zombies.”
“Yes mi’lord,” she said, giving me a small bow.
Turning to Archer, I shook my head. “You’re obviously my personal narcissism, so just try to stay out of Lana’s way, or better yet - try to kill more zombies than her. If you think you can.”
Archer scoffed. “No contest. I took top marks in sharpshooting.”
“That means I should expect to see results by tomorrow. I look forward to it.”
Archer looked panicked for a moment then smiled. “Sure, I can give you results.”
Turning back to Woodhouse I said “Show me what else need attending.”
Woodhouse led me through the town that represented my mind, pointing out each business that had fallen into disrepair, suggested others that needed improvements, and additions that would benefit me. In the distance, I could hear Lana and Archer shooting at the crowd of zombies and with each echoing shot I felt a tiny bit better about everything.
[INDEX]

Some people: “Sorry my playlist is so random, I’m so ADHD, lol.”
Actual ADHD Illustrated: (Extra long-winded, descriptive, and expressive (when nobody asked for or wanted it) as per the terms and conditions outlined in the contract I apparently signed when I was gifted a sparkly, yet mild to moderately functioning potato for a brain)
After putting off a necessary and important task for way too long, you finally build up the correct combination of anxiety, dopamine, and subsequent motivation necessary in your brain to go buy a new car battery because your current battery is ancient, corroded, and could decide to pass away at any moment.
So you go buy the battery, put it in the back of your car to take it home and install right away, and you feel instant relief because you finally did the thing, and that wasn’t so bad was it?
Look at you just out there completing simple necessary tasks like a boss ass battery-buying beotch. You’re on a roll! You’re about to get your whole life together.
But the drive home is just long enough of a transition period, and your relief at finally buying the battery was just enough of a dopamine and serotonin boost, that by the time you get home something else has taken over the brain space previously occupied by the battery, you become distracted, and then you forget to install it.
And because the battery is in the back hatchback area of your car, which you very rarely open, you forget it even exists because you can’t see it directly in front of you at all times.
Object permanece does not exist, therefore battery does not exist, and it lives back there, silently and undetected, for a couple weeks.
(Side note: Why is it back there?! You have a system for this…things go in the passenger seat or passenger floorboard for a reason. You deviated from the system you have in place for situations such as this, and as a result, something that many people would not even have to think twice about, is now going to wreak almost comical levels of havoc upon your life.)
Once in a while, over the following days, the thought of battery pops into your head but always when you’re at work, or about to fall asleep, or otherwise just not in a position to do anything about the thought immediately, so it disappears again (even though you try to tell yourself you won’t forget, you definitely won’t lose the to-do list you wrote it down on, and you won’t snooze the alarms you set to remind you and then also forget to reset them).
At some point, who even knows when, you take a sharp turn and the battery falls over onto its side. And you don’t realize or notice because you’re engrossed in the task of driving, which also entails listening to music or a podcast in order to drown out the constant background noise in your brain enough to allow you to concentrate on driving, AND you’ve also forgotten the battery exists, so with no pre-recorded context around the mysterious clunking noise for your brain to piece together, you don’t even register it.
So it stays in your car tipped over for a while, and leaks battery acid all over, which literally eats through an entire double folded king sized comforter (which you also forgot existed because it was in the back of your car, and had already bought a replacement comforter for, after it disappeared into the no man’s land that is your car doom pile of forgotten things.)
And then one magical day, the stars align, and you finally remember: “Oh yes! Battery! Ah I need to go do that right now!”
Except you can’t.
Because battery is deceased in a pool of its own corrosive chemical blood. Because you let it die in the back of your car.
So now, you’re out a brand new 200 + dollar battery, but your current battery is still on its deathbed, so you have to go buy another new one (when you didn’t even have the extra money in your budget to buy the first one comfortably, but did it anyway because you really needed to and because you’re definitely a responsible adult that does things that need to be done).
AND you also get the side-quest bonus task of spending the rest of your Sunday after finally installing said new battery, figuring out how to clean battery acid blanket mush out of the back of your car.
The end. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

So i recently bought a 2020 Megane tourer, i installed an aftermarket multimedia. while playing around i acidently rested the active braking system, tried to find away to set default psi for tpms because i get alerts when setting the psi stated on the door sticker...
How do i make the system work again? do i need to do some sort of calibrations?
also anyway to program new psi lvl to tpms?
i have the foxwell 630nt if needed... and would love reccomenditions if theres any other programmer-scanner for Renault

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Memory Transcription Subject: Elias Meier, Former UN Secretary-General
Date [standardized human time]: July 21, 2160
Virnt paced on the sidewalk as we approached Kuemper’s convoy, lifting a segmented leg to wave farewell. He appeared to be on a holopad call, so I returned the gesture without saying a word. The Tilfish scientist was under a lot of scrutiny, after his leadership of the memory transcript project led to reviving me. There was additional pressure to extend the uploading capabilities beyond humans, though neuroscience from an Earth-based company was most advanced with our own kind. Legislators were keen to get involved, despite the fact that Austrian authorities and the UN had been apprised ahead of time. I intended to weigh in on that when the Sapient Coalition called, but securing aid for the war was a higher priority. Even synthetic bodies couldn't survive antimatter bombs; this endangered every being in our space.
“As I was saying, there’s been a vast uptick in the number of people participating in memory transcripts, ever since we announced Meier’s success. It’s insurance against death!” Virnt gushed to the person on the other end of the phone. “More machines are getting installed…some in public places. Everyone will be able to be reborn after death! It needs to be in every hospital, so we can scan anyone who passes through the doors or dies on the operating table.”
I turned to face Kuemper, as she slid into the back of the vehicle. “Is that what you’d want, if something happened to you now?”
“Yes. My specific consciousness would still end, granted, but a part of me would live on and get to see the future,” she answered. “I had a scan a few years ago. I plan to update my memories every so often, so they can restore me as I was.”
The Tilfish continued jabbering into the line. “Elias has been quite successful. He is truly immortal so long as our servers and data survive! If something happens, we have his program exactly as it was—it can be restored. I know he’s had his struggles, but I’m planning to swap out his eyes this week. It’ll be no different than surgery; go to sleep, wake up with modifications.”
I hesitated to close the car door. “What are you doing to my eyes?!”
“You wanted eyelids, so I’m going to give them to you. I’ll tell you later! Anyhow, as I was saying, we’re working to improve the sensory suites. Taste and smell are tricky. Proprioception, equilibrium, and motion detection are easier to fine-tune; they’re a bit rudimentary now. Humans are complicated and have a thousand chain reactions to different environments. I’d like Elias to test out things like…swimming underwater, standing on one leg, or typing with his eyes closed once we give him eyelids.”
I’m learning new fears. I don’t want to hear any more of this conversation.
“Start the car,” I grumbled, shutting the door. “Please. Covering my ears doesn’t work that well, and he’s talking pretty loud.”
Virnt’s mandibles parted with delight, likely because he’d been asked something about human senses. “Balance comes from inner ear fluid, sloshing around; that’s not so easy to replicate, so we’re more applying the predicted stimuli that would occur if that fluid was there! However, you also rely on your eyes and body awareness. Humans are remarkable—”
The vehicle started off down the road, leaving the overexcited Tilfish behind. The car ride was a perfect showcase of just why my three senses needed fine-tuning; the sensation that I wasn’t breathing escalated to levels of panic, while my “suffocating” body experienced waves of nausea. I needed to suck down oxygen to steady myself, to feel any of the input from my metal form as genuine. My limbs shook involuntarily, and I suddenly wished I walked down to Embassy Row, like I had during my visits to the Ulven and Racads. It hadn’t been as bad in a spaceship with inertial dampeners, where I’d had minimal view of my surroundings. Then again, I’d been curled up in a ball for that trip.
Kuemper’s eyebrows knitted together, before she placed a palm atop my hand to ground me. “After Virnt announced all that to the world, I think I can figure out what’s going on. Cars are no good?”
I shook my head, hating that I could feel sick to my non-existent stomach; it was phantom pain. The Secretary-General brought the car to a halt while I hugged the door, face pressed up to the window. The grating sensation that I was holding my breath was always present, but now, it felt like I was swallowing water by the bucketful. How could a car ride have sent my programming on such a cascade? The smallest, mundane experiences were now something I had to worry would set off my brain, and put me into a full state of panic from wrong signals. I wanted to apologize to Kuemper for creating such a scene, and pulling myself together for a few minutes.
Virnt, I know you’re reading this. Add this to your bug fix list…pun intended.
There’d been zero ways to cope or find relief, in the thick of it. The general sensation of unwellness hung over me, along with a desperate desire to inhale through my nose. I found the strength to unhook the door—I had to get out of this car, or it would be my second coffin. Perhaps I could walk off the episode in the punishing July heat. Back when I was a human, diplomatic attire was punishing in these months, with sweat drenching me from head to toe. Looking down at my shoes, I could see the pavement shimmering as it reflected the scalding sun. Nobody without a robotic body should be out in this weather, and I’d meet Kuemper there. However, her car merely rolled alongside me, matching my pace.
“Go on without me,” I offered. “I’m sorry. I know the way to Embassy Row; I’ll catch up.”
Kuemper raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You don’t know which one is the Leshee embassy, and there are 150-plus of them. I want to keep an eye on you anyway.”
“Ok. I’ll pick it up…it’s not like I can get tired. Hell, I won’t be out of breath if we talk while I run.”
“You’ve never been in better shape. The best persistence predator this planet has ever seen.”
“You have a good point. Even death couldn’t stop me.”
I started off at a light jog, not trusting my limbs not to do something zany. Gray-haired Elias hadn’t been a marathon runner—a contest I imagined our alien neighbors didn’t enjoy watching—but my present form could sprint without ceasing. There was no burning from lactic acid within muscles, only legs complying with the demands they were given. There were a multitude of stares and people recording, as they realized who I was; I supposed tearing down the streets of Vienna in July in a full suit-and-tie attracted attention. I found myself grinning at the absurdity. My pupils scanned to ensure I didn’t run into anyone, not wholly trusting my depth perception.
The amusement died down as we neared the diplomatic entrance to Embassy Row, and I spotted a memorial park situated just shy of it. My legs slowed just long enough to read the entrance plaque, head turning to face it. It had a list of names of all humans who died outside of Earth during the Federation War, with several walls lined up within a cobblestone circle. That wasn’t what had caught my notice out of my periphery. It was the bronze statue that I’d registered, one with a face that I couldn't help but recognize. A cold feeling stirred within, gazing at a spitting replica of Elias Meier. They built…statues here to remember me.
How did I even feel about that? My name was on the wall right alongside thousands of others, who hadn’t gotten any second chance. I picked up the pace with new urgency, all too eager to get away from my likeness. Maybe this new body was just a thinking statue to Elias, the pacifist icon of the UN. There was no time to fall back into such thoughts, since I didn’t want to cause our tardiness to the meeting. We were practically at the embassies, and from there, I could follow the Secretary-General’s car to the Leshee’s turf. Kuemper’s motorcade bypassed the stringent security, with the checkpoint gates opened ahead of our arrival.
I’d zoned out as we wove to a domed building, where iridescent, frog-like beings waited for us. A gray blur appeared in my periphery, swooping down toward me; that proved enough to jolt me back to the present. Korajan had landed right next to us from the sky, gliding alongside me for a split second. Though I was startled at first, I managed to recover without flinching. The Secretary-General’s motorcade proceeded ahead of me to the reception area, where Leshee staff waited to greet us. I walked a few paces behind with the Duerten ambassador, taking on a calm amble and straightening myself up. The avian parted his beak, eyes curious.
“You’re going to ask for us to get you an audience in front of the Shield,” Korajan stated as a fact. “That’s what my UN contacts seemed to imply.”
I nodded. “We were hoping you’d help us.”
“No human has ever been allowed to visit during Shield meetings, Elias. Many feel that would be the beginning of us merging with the SC, rather than keeping an autonomous union. If I might be so frank, certain parties maintain communications with Earth because they see it as a necessity.”
“In what way? In case you need our assistance?”
“No, I’m afraid it’s rather impolite. You’re the dominant power in our galactic neck of the woods, and they don’t want to war with you. They’d rather interact with the UN on some level, since it beats the perceived alternative. There would be great animosity toward an ‘intrusion’ in our halls.”
I clasped my hands behind my back. “What do you think, Korajan? Why are you telling me this?”
“I think you have proof now that the Sapient Coalition is threatened, and you believe you could rally us to your cause. My advice is not to look too far outside the Duerten Forum or the Leshee Junta. I do have great respect for humans, and I know that treatment hurts you more than you let on.”
“I’ve faced worse. I’m curious, Korajan, how you became an ambassador on Earth. Did you always have such favorable views of humans?”
“No,” the Duerten admitted. “I’ve seen the patterns in your social dynamics and customs over time. Originally, I was half-hoping the worst commentary about you was true. A part of me wished you would rip me to shreds or lose control while I was alone on your world. I wanted a human to swallow me whole before my grief did.”
“I’m so unspeakably sorry. It’s my sincere hope that your mental state has changed for the better.”
“It most certainly has. Honestly, what helped me most was visiting a live music bar, and listening to songs a local band wrote about Earth’s bombing. It reminded me of…a lot of things. They started to recognize me, and I understood their pain so intrinsically, Elias. I started playing the tambourine just so I could join their jam sessions. Even learned enough English to songwrite a little with them.”
“It’s wonderful that you found the right people, Korajan. If you ever feel inclined to share your songs with me, I’d be honored.”
“Perhaps I will. It might be unbecoming of an ambassador, but I’m offering all of this in the spirit of friendship. I’ll still help you, whatever you decide. Just be aware of what you’re getting into.”
The two of us fell in alongside Kuemper, who was exchanging pleasantries with Leshee Ambassador Yali. The amphibian looked a bit uncomfortable by my presence, which I found understandable; it wasn’t discrimination over my species, but my unique circumstances. I wondered about how long I’d be the sole revived brain scan. It was unfortunate to have nobody to talk to that was going through the same thing, as was often the therapeutic practice for other traumatic events. Then again, I didn’t want to bring anyone else back to this reality until Virnt had ironed out the flaws. My self-awareness heightened as I saw a Terran metal detector in the entrance, and hung back—knowing full well I’d trip it.
“Maybe I should stay here,” I whispered to Kuemper. “Are you okay with Virnt reading…sensitive state discussions? He has access to everything I see.”
The Secretary-General snorted. “That Tilfish has our top clearance level. He has to, with the important figures he’s done memory scans on. Not to mention he’s worked with the military and Project Chronicle.”
“Right. Give me a moment to, ah, collect my bearings.”
Korajan hopped through the detector, beckoning to me. “Elias is going to set off the security alarms, Ambassador Yali. You know, I shudder to think that resurrected Duerten might not be able to fly. I mean, we need light bones, and metal is quite the opposite.”
“What happens if a metal predator goes on a rampage? He’s unkillable,” Yali whispered to the Duerten, soft gums showing in her mouth.
I don’t think the Leshee meant for me to hear that, but I suppose the exterminators wouldn’t have much impact on me.
Fumbling for a way to reassure the amphibian, I strolled through the checkpoint, setting off a series of alarms. “It doesn’t seem a pleasant way to start a diplomatic meeting, weighing whether we can kill each other. I have always been an advocate of peace, and spent my tenure avoiding unnecessary bloodshed. We’re here in the hopes of banding together against a novel threat.”
“The United Nations recognizes how vital the Leshee are to the Shield. We hope to not only offer a warning, but to find a path forward that keeps civilians out of harm’s way,” Kuemper chimed in.
Yali hopped toward a seating area, eyes filled with anxiety. “I’ll hear what you have to say, but I would appreciate if we could keep this brief. I’m not accustomed to this type of human, Madam Secretary-General.”
“I’d be happy to recuse myself if it’d put your mind at ease,” I responded. “Believe me, Ambassador, I’m not used to this type of human either, yet I have to live in this body. Perhaps I belong on the sidelines, though I assure you, my only intent was to gather allies. Until I stay dead, I’ll never stop trying to find new friends for humanity, and achieve the harmonious future I’ve always dreamed of.”
“The Leshee are your friends, Mr. Elias Meier. We have helped you before in the hopes that you’d show up, if we ever needed it. However, my government is beginning to feel this is a bit one-sided. You seek aid often, without anything given in return.”
“If you seek monetary or material recompense, we can arrange that,” Kuemper stated. “However, we always considered our relations to be a mutual alliance.”
Korajan parted his beak. “The Duerten will not keep score, as we are forever in debt to Earth and her people. Humanity saved Kalqua, Yali, and they’d help you. Consider it fortunate your planet was not subjected to an orbital barrage.”
Sympathy glistened in the Leshee’s eyes. “We would never wish such a thing upon ourselves. My words are merely reflecting the uneven nature of our present arrangement, should the humans wish to call on us for a favor again.”
“Forgive me, but have you ever asked anything of us?” I chimed in. “If the roles were reversed, and you came to us for ten favors in a row, we wouldn’t be settling a ledger. We would extend a helping hand out of our goodwill and generosity. That is the definition of a friend: someone who is there no matter what, when you need them most.”
Kuemper cleared her throat. “We aren’t here for ourselves, and even the times we have been, it’s to save lives. We care for our citizens, and will always step in to resolve issues outside of Earth. I find it unfortunate that humans in Shield space are imperiled to this day, though we are grateful for any and all assistance the Leshee have given.”
“A question, if you’ll humor a ‘metal predator.’ For all the talk of our inherent violence and rampages, how many times have you needed to approach us regarding any of your people on Earth?”
“Once,” Yali replied, lowering her head. “There’d been a train accident, it turned out. Human rescue workers dug a little girl out of the rubble, resuscitated her twice…refusing to give up on saving her. The surgeons operated on her for hours, showing no appetite for her insides or the blood aromas swirling around them—only deep-rooted concern.”
“Perhaps such a story could buy us a bit more goodwill, my friend. It’s proof that we give to anyone in need, and seek nothing for it.”
Korajan fluttered his wings. “I can attest to their kindness. I’ve witnessed it. Their involvement in this disaster started to help the Sivkits, a party outside their organization, who’d turned away from us all for decades. Humanity heeded the call regardless.”
“Now, they’ve entered our space. Three massive drone contingents, on separate vectors, were detected on a stealthy route into the heart of our territory,” Erin Kuemper added. “We don’t know their destination, but we suspect Nishtal is a likely target. Help us protect the homeworld we just now rebuilt. The Shield knows what an arduous process that was.”
I nodded my head, turning my eyes toward the friendly Duerten. “I’ve absolutely heard what Korajan expressed, about risking your own assets on account of the Sapient Coalition. That takes tremendous nobility and courage. However, even the slightest contributions could make a difference. Count the fingers I have on a hand—that’s all the ships it would’ve taken to stop one bomber that hit Kalqua or Earth. That’s all it takes to save millions of lives.”
“When you put it like that…I’ll see if we can spare a small number. Every ship does make a difference,” the avian ambassador murmured.
There was a brief spell of hesitation, as the Leshee ambassador pondered our words. Her species and ours shared the common link of being judged for biological requirements, as their tadpoles required water to survive. Since the Kolshians viewed that as a vector for disease, the amphibians were ostracized and considered unclean. They’d grown their influence as the Shield’s numbers grew, though they still clung to old Federation rhetoric—like most species in their organization. I hoped that they could put aside the dogma long enough to act for the common good.
“While the Krakotl have become dietarily contemptible…like many Coalition members, after being around you…I will recommend that my government intercedes on Nishtal’s behalf,” Yali decided. “Now if that’s all…”
“It’s not.”
The words tumbled from my mouth, reaching a snap decision after recalling my conversation with Korajan. I shifted my eyes back and forth between the Duerten and the Secretary-General, searching for approval. My old friend—a former SETI scientist having reached the top echelons of the UN—gave me a nod. While it would make a fractional difference to acquire any manner of aid, we couldn’t set our aim that low. My goal heading into this was to knock on every door I could, and Korajan’s warning only convinced me that galactic change was still a necessity. The Shield fearing us wasn’t something that we wanted; they weren’t our enemies, and it was high time their members realized that fully.
If Noah had risked his literal head with a hostile audience, it fell on my shoulders to do the same. I was a diplomat that wasn’t in physical jeopardy, and like Virnt gushed on his call, my “program” could be restored in the worst case scenario. Someone had to start down the path of warming the Shield, as an entity, toward our cause.
“I would like to visit the Shield,” I stated with confidence. “I know the Leshee have the sway to arrange such a meeting. I’m well aware that you haven’t invited a human within your halls, since your formation. However, if you invite me, that will remain true. Any metal detector can tell you I’m not human.”
Yali seemed dumbfounded. “Then what are you?”
“I asked that same question when I woke in a lab, Ambassador. You know that I’m something beyond predator or prey…that we’re all moving toward something far outside the animal kingdom. Instead of worrying whether I’m unkillable, the Shield should be asking whether you could be too. You don’t want a golden age of progress to pass you by. You don’t want it not to come about at all because a war took us down.”
“Opening your doors could strengthen technological trade between our forums,” Kuemper tacked on. “If we can work together during wartime, there’s no reason we can’t better each other outside of it.”
“Is that why Elias came? You’re dangling your new discovery in front of us?” the Leshee ambassador asked. “I don’t see what we have to gain, aside from this elusive promise, by bringing you into our midst. I don’t see what you have to gain.”
I smiled, nostalgia flickering in my mind. “Good things happen when humanity reaches out. We entered a Federation meeting, and convinced dozens to abide our existence; we owe our survival to that. There was also a tiny portion that chose to befriend us because of our plea. I wish to speak a few words, and if one party warms to us for it, I’ll consider it worthwhile. We only ever reached out to the stars in search of friends, Ambassadors.”
“I searched tirelessly in the hopes that we weren’t alone,” Kuemper agreed. “We want to share the universe with others. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I find that to be a beautiful notion,” Korajan interjected. “There have been a vast many positives that came from humanity’s survival and networking. We only know who we truly are because of them. The Leshee aren’t judged by your peers for your aquatic aptitudes, either.”
I gave the Duerten a nod of gratitude. “We have never once tried to force you to merge with us, or engage against your wishes. The Shield exists as a free entity today because our ambassador spoke at a meeting for a few minutes, twenty-four years ago. What could it hurt to give us the same opportunity today, and see what might come of it?”
After another lengthy pause, one where the tension gnawed at my mind, Yali heaved a flustered sigh. “Very well. I’ll approach my superiors about this, and tell them what you’ve said. Our embassy will be in contact if they grant you an audience. Please, leave now…before I change my mind.”
“Thank you. I’m deeply appreciative that you’ve heard our case, and have been receptive to our words. We won’t trouble you any longer.”
“Have a pleasant rest of your afternoon, Ambassador Yali,” Kuemper said, rising to her feet. “These will be historic steps toward a bright, prosperous future. I look forward to improving the dialogues between our species. My thanks as well to Ambassador Korajan for his supportive presence.”
The Duerten squawked in amusement. “Don’t thank me for speaking the truth. It’s a simple gesture.”
“I’ve always liked simple gestures.”
I felt a bit less off-putting and out of place upon our departure. With a solid chance at receiving an invitation to the Shield’s place of governance, I thought that the Leshee meeting had been a sweeping success. Flexing my diplomatic muscles paid dividends today, suggesting cyborg Meier still had enough charisma to stay in the game. In the spirit of optimism, it was time to plan just how I’d tackle my visit to the Shield.
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Keeping your car in tip-top shape means not overlooking its heart — the battery. The car battery is crucial for starting your engine and powering all the electronics. When it starts to fail, replacing it promptly can save you from inconvenient breakdowns. But how do you know when it’s time to replace it? And what’s the best way to go about it? Let’s dive into everything you need to know about car battery replacement.
1. What is a Car Battery?
A car battery is a rechargeable power source that supplies electrical energy to start the engine and run various electrical components like lights, radio, and air conditioning. It’s typically a lead-acid battery, although newer models may use different technologies.

2. Types of Car Batteries

I. Lead-Acid Batteries
These are the most common and are known for their reliability and affordability. They come in two varieties: flooded (wet cell) and sealed (maintenance-free).
II. AGM Batteries
Absorbent Glass Mat (AGM) batteries are more advanced than traditional lead-acid batteries. They are designed to handle the increased electrical demands of modern vehicles and have a longer lifespan.
III. Lithium-Ion Batteries
Though rare in conventional vehicles, lithium-ion batteries are found in electric and hybrid cars. They are lighter, have a longer life, but are more expensive.

3. Signs Your Car Battery Needs Replacement

I. Slow Engine Crank
If your engine cranks slowly when you try to start your car, it’s a clear sign that your battery might be failing and if you want to find best auto mechanic then you should write car battery replacement near me on Google.
II. Dim Lights and Electrical Issues
Dimming headlights, flickering dashboard lights, or malfunctioning electronics can indicate a weak battery.
III. Check Engine Light
Sometimes, the check engine light comes on due to battery issues. It’s worth checking the battery if this light is illuminated.
IV. Swollen Battery Case
A swollen or bloated battery case usually means the battery is overheated. This is a sign that it needs to be replaced immediately.
V. Battery Leak or Corrosion
It’s time to replace the batteries if there is visible corrosion around the terminals or if the battery fluid is leaking. These issues can seriously affect battery performance.

4. Testing Your Car Battery

I. Using a Multimeter
A multimeter can measure your battery’s voltage. A healthy battery should read about 12.6 volts when fully charged.
II. Professional Testing Services
Free battery testing is provided by numerous auto repair shops and parts stores. This can clearly show you how well your battery is doing.

5. Choosing the Right Battery

I. Battery Size and Type
Ensure the replacement battery matches the size and specifications of your old one. Check your owner’s manual or the existing battery’s label.
II. Cold Cranking Amps (CCA)
CCA measures the battery’s ability to start an engine in cold temperatures. The higher the CCA, the better the performance in cold weather.

6. Cost of Car Battery Replacement

I. Average Cost Breakdown
The cost can vary widely based on the battery type and your vehicle’s requirements. Typically, it ranges from $50 to $200.
II. DIY vs Professional Replacement
Replacing a battery yourself can save labor costs, but professional installation ensures proper handling and disposal.
Conclusion
Replacing your car battery is an essential part of vehicle maintenance that you can often do yourself with a little know-how. By understanding the signs of a failing battery, choosing the right replacement, and following proper safety procedures, you can ensure your car stays reliable and ready to go. Remember, a healthy battery means a happy car and a worry-free driving experience.

Hello and welcome to the 33rd installment of The Great Spice Off! What is The Great Spice Off?
I love the scent of Old Spice, so much so that it's the only aftershave I use as I don't really feel a need to splash anything else on. But, as we all know, Old Spice no longer makes shaving soap. They do still make a cream but that's hardly a great soap and it doesn't actually smell like Old Spice. As such my plan is to test out all the Old Spice options that are out there on as many bases as possible both to try out a variety of bases from different soapmakers and to report back to you on who really nails the scent.
I'll be shaving three times with each soap, using a variety of brushes and razors, and blades. Yes, I know that means it won't be exactly scientific but this is going to take a while and I want to use all my other shit too. Soaps will be rated on a few factors and given points from 1-5 for each.

• Oldness: How much does the soap smell like OG Old Spice. This is the more analytical scent analysis and I'm comparing to an OG Old Spice aftershave I have and the Shulton aftershave from India.
• Spiciness: This is the je ne sais quois of Old Spice. Does the soap make me feel the nostalgia, warmth, and whatever it is about the scent that works. Is there something special about it that makes it stand out? Does it invoke a memory or make a new one? The most subjective of this list.
• Lather: You know, can I make a shave soap out of it.
• Shave: How's it work on the ol' face while shaving.
• Post: How's the scent profile after the event. How does my face feel.

Bundubeard De Goede Hoop

Bundubeard owner Jacob Grobler is simultaneously the best and the worst. I have, for a few months now, been closing in on the end of this endless series of reviews of Old Spice dupes. I had, in fact, at one point proclaimed the series nearly over a few reviews ago but ol' Jacob had to come rolling along and offer not one... not two... but THREE Old Spice dupe/riffs at once in a scenting series called The Spicy Trio. Think something along the lines of Barrister and Mann's The Four Horsemen (War is good. Fuck everyone.) but the base accord is Old Spice. Clearly, a man after my own heart even if he is extending this whole thing three entire reviews longer in one fell swoop. Not only has he created three Old Spice-based scents but this is evidently part of an ongoing study into messing around with Old Spice scenting that will carry on with adjustments and new takes in the future.
I, honestly, just pray he gives me a few months of respite before dumping his next three out.
What does this all mean for the two other future reviews in the exact same base? I know you, the avid reader of The Great Spice Off, are incredibly concerned about the integrity and validity of these entirely made-up and subjective reviews so I want to assuage your fears of me possibly destroying the entire legacy of TGSO (an acronym I can't believe I have not used before this moment). I've reviewed some soaps with the same base before but, in those cases, it was either affected by the addition of different amounts of scent, a different brand using another brand's base, or menthol. Also, they were not reviewed back to back. Given my plan to review all three of these consecutively (with a short Lather Games break) and that there are no extenuating circumstances that could excuse a double base review these three reviews will be almost connected as one. In the forthcoming next two reviews of Reijger and Drommedaris the base scores will be replicated over even if the three shaves land me with different experiences just to keep things fair and square. This is, of course, barring some drastic impact that the changed scent has on my shave. So calm your panic attack down, the integrity of TGSO is still intact. And fear not, the other reviews will also not have an extensive intro like this one.
Surprisingly to me -- since I hadn't heard of Bundubeard up until this past year -- the company has been around since at the very least 2017 when Jacob left his construction business and decided to launch a wet shaving one based out of South Africa, where he lives. You may have gotten a hint of this from the fact that this soap's name, De Goede Hoop (The Good Hope), is in Afrikaans/Dutch and not English. I'm not 100% sure what Bunderbeard or Boendoebaard means as Google doesn't translate it well for me so maybe it's not even an actual word but it has the word beard in it so I assume it refers to something having to do with facial hair. Despite shipping internationally, Bundubeard is surprisingly focussed on the South African wet shaving market, which, when coupled with Master Soap Creations, makes South Africa a bit of a hot spot for the wet shaving scene and a blazing hot volcanic eruption of soapers duping Old Spice.
The trio of soaps featured in The Spicy Trio are all named after the three Dutch ships that landed on the tip of South Africa and began colonizing it (De Goede Hoop, Raijger, and Drommedaris). Obviously, very important ships in South African history -- something akin to the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria in U.S. history. The history of South Africa and colonization is... complicated... but according to Bunderbeard these three ships started "the history of the Afrikaner" in 1652. The nautical theme, obviously, ties in with Old Spice pretty well and there's some other stuff in there about the trio changing over time as he works on the scents much like the country has changed over time thanks to the confluence of cultures and races that makes South Africa a relatively unique country in terms of culture.
De Goede Hoop is Bundubeard's base Old Spice scent that the other two are built off of. The English on the page is a bit broken but it is supposed to be a direct dupe (though, he shies away from calling these scents "homages" for nebulous legal reasons). There's no scent description outside of calling it the "standard 'Old Spice' fragrance from years gone by." All signs point to direct dupe, captain!
Excitingly, De Goede Hoop (and thus the other soaps as well) come in Bundubeard's mutton base, a first for The Great Spice Off! Mutton, for those that don't know about Sheep Facts^TM, is the meat from a sheep that is older than two years and thus more... ummm... full of mutton. Full ingredients are: mutton tallow, H20 (known as water here in the U.S.), Sodium Hydroxide, Potassium Hydroxide, Stearic Acid, Castor oil, Kalahari Melon oil, Virgin cold pressed Coconut oil, right off the tree, fragrance oils and essential oils. Not only is it mutton but he's picking his own coconuts for the coconut oil! Damn, that's some fresh coconut oil and, excitedly, not the first ingredient. The Kalahari Melon oil is a unique South African ingredient, making for something a little extra in there I don't think you can get anywhere else. Consitency-wise, the soap isn't too hard or soft, landing right in that this-is-the-consitancy-of-shaving-soap sweet spot.
As for packaging, the three soaps come in aluminum tins with original artwork of each boat on them. It's kind of fun to see them all depicted, though one of the tins did get pretty busted up in transit across the Atlantic. Interestingly, Bundubeard packages his soaps in a variety of container types, though it's not clear why one soap gets different treatment from another.
Oldness: 3
I'm a little disappointed with the scent's accuracy as it's going to be the base for the other two soaps, but there's something missing here. The issue comes from a complete lack of citrus top notes, a key component to the classic Old Spice scent. This one seems to be just the middle and base notes, giving plenty of spice and florals but none of that brightness the citrus can bring. Describing the Old Spice OG scent as bright may seem a bit at odds when I've outright said the flatter scented dupes are more accurate but even a flatter scent can have layers and this is missing one of them. It's an Old Spice scent for sure, but not the Old Spice scent.
Spiciness: 2
Honestly, this might be a bit higher if this was marketed as a riff on Old Spice that tailored back the citrus scents but feelings of betrayal from an overseas lover hurt the heart deeply and I must deduct another point. Each time I opened the tub hoping for more it was not there, though I will say that the scent stays consistent throughout the shave and lingers nicely throughout the day. Later in the day, when I wasn't bitter and jaded from the soul-crushing letdown, I enjoyed it far more. You know... I may let Old Spice dupe shaving impact my emotions a bit too much.
Lather: 5
Nothing disappointing about this lather, which is nearly impossible to screw up unless you scoop way too much soap for a synthetic brush like I did on my second one. It starts out a thick, glorious protoo-lather and then just grows from there into one of the sheeniest, biggest lathers I've made. Old sheep's fat is clearly magical at building good lather and there ain't mutton you can say to change my mind (sheep pun!). Never too thirsty and never requiring a lot of work to dial in, this is just some easy-to-use soap.
Shave: 5
An absolutely fantastic shave that might be the best cushioned shave I've ever shaved with. You can barely feel the blade slide over your face no matter how aggressive the razor is and the slickness is just one level of good below that. It's simply a pleasure to use, going on the face soft and leaving plenty of slickness behind with a scent that hangs around nicely throughout the shave with very little change after the lather.
Post: 3
As noted, De Goede Hoop has a lovely, prolonged scent that sticks around throughout the day nicely. Its post-shave feel is pretty good too, leaving my face feeling soft and nourished. However, the soap scent and the initial combo of Indian Old Spice aftershave did not work at all, crashing into each other like a ship crashing into The Cape of Good Hope where we all know nearly 3,000 ships have sunk (see, I did some South African research before I wrote this). It fared better with the vintage bottle but still not my favorite combo.
Final Verdict: 18
Thankfully I already know the word in Afrikaan for good or else I'd have to go look it up. De Goede Hoop is Goede. It's definitely one of my favorite bases and if I wasn't a curmudgeon about the scent not being spot on I'd probably have come across a lot more friendly to it as I didn't actually dislike the smell and it is Old Spicey in its own way. It isn't, however, all that accurate of an Old Spice dupe falling more into the Old Spice adjacent category. For that, I can never forgive. NEVER!
Previous Great Spice Offs:

1. 1940s Old Spice Shaving Soap in Vintage Mug (9)
2. 1973-91 Old Spice Shaving Soap (7)
3. Old Spice Shaving Cream (Original) (12)
4. Master Soap Creations Vintage Spice (19)
5. Black Ship Grooming Classic (17)
6. OSP Old Gold (19)
7. Chiseled Face Groomatorium Trade Winds (17)
8. Wholly Kaw Twice as Spice (17)
9. Barrister and Mann Barrister's Reserve Spice (21)
10. Mama Bear Aged Spice (10)
11. MERShaving Old Timer Spice (20)
12. Soap Commander Endurance (20)
13. Signature Soaps Novus Spice (17)
14. Hoffman's Shave and Soap Company Burn the Ships (19)
15. Phoenix Artisan Accoutrements Cold Spice (15)
16. Hendrix Classics & Co Commodore (20)
17. Ginger's Garden Old Spice Type (15)
18. Lisa's Natural Herbal Creations Mariner (10)
19. Stone Field Shaving Company Ltd. No. 37 (18)
20. Cooper & French Old Goat (19)
21. The Holy Black Artisan Line Shaving Soap (21)
22. Stirling Soap Co. Stirling Spice (20)
23. Van Yulay Spicy Man (10)
24. Pinnacle Grooming The Good Ship OS (15)
25. Mystic Water Soap Windjammer (14)
26. The Village Soap Smith Old Spice (Type) (14)
27. Cloud Shave "Unscented" (13)
28. Wet the Face Spices From the Sea (17)
29. Artifact Soapworks Old Spice (Type) (15)
30. DentonMajik Ole Fife (21)
31. Phoenix Artisan Accouterments Oud Spice (17)
32. Lativ Natural Skin Revival Shaving Soap Old Spice (8)

Special Editions

• Summer Break Soaps Remote Learning
• Spearhead Shaving Company Seaforth! Spiced
• Eleven Shaving Unscented/Hendrix Classics & Co Commander
• Crowne & Crane The Spice

I'm also looking for the below soaps if you've got any you're willing to sell/trade/donate:

• Wild West Shaving Co. Snake Oil
• Wickam Spice Trade
• Occult Grooming Essentials Modern Spice
• Fougare Salem

I already have these soaps that I have not reviewed yet:

• Bundubeard Reijger
• Bundubeard Drommedaris
• Areffa Soap The Sea Son