City center apartments are frequently considered the greatest buy-to-lets, City center apartments are frequently considered the greatest buy-to-lets, but are they still a wise investment? Here, we’ll examine the benefits and drawbacks of this specific property type.

Why City Center Apartments (Can’t) Make Great Investments

Here are the primary factors that have contributed to new city center flats making excellent buy-to-let investments over time:
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• City center apartments are frequently affordable. Apartments in metropolitan areas are frequently less expensive per square foot than comparable homes in suburban areas.
  
• Apartments in the city center frequently have high letting yields. Even though city apartments frequently have higher rentals than suburban homes, the yields can still be higher.
  
• Those that prefer to live in urban areas and have easy access to public transportation, as opposed to commuting, frequently have a high demand for city-center apartments. People frequently rent rather than buy in city centers since they may want to stay there for a while.
  
• In city centers, there are many different renting options. Apartments in the city center can be rented to professionals, roommates, and students. They can also be used as short-term rentals or serviced lodging.
  
• Renting in the city center is a simple buy-to-let venture to own and manage. These may qualify as “hands-free” investments. A managing agent is responsible for the building’s upkeep, common areas, and grounds. (There are typically service fees to pay.)
  
• Investing in a city-center apartment development offers a variety of options. Compared to houses on the resale market, new flats are much simpler to find and purchase. Another scalable investment possibility is new construction. You can purchase one, a few, or several brand-new apartments.
  
• Newly constructed flats in city centers are frequently seen in areas undergoing regeneration and renovation. These neighborhoods frequently receive investments, which can raise property values as the area develops.
  
• More space to build new structures in some city centers, such as old ones. The potential for price growth is good, and any newly available properties may be in high demand. As implied by the name, new-build apartments are brand-new. They are frequently highly well-liked by tenants because they contain the newest amenities and cutting-edge designs. Also, new homes require little to no care in the future, saving investors money on ongoing expenses.
  
• The most energy-efficient properties are typically newly constructed. They are also well-liked by renters due to their cheap operating expenses. The minimal energy efficiency standards for buy-to-let properties should be readily met by investors purchasing brand-new apartments, both now and in the future.
  

Residing Outside of Burbs and Small Towns

Many people who have always wanted to live in a big city eventually give in to its pull and discover themselves in a much more populated and concentrated location than they did in the suburbs.
Although many people prefer to relocate to a city, only some are suited to city living. It goes considerably quicker and significantly differs from life in a small town or the suburbs. Before leaving the suburbs for the big city lights, you must weigh the benefits and drawbacks of living in a major metropolis, as with any place.
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benefits of residing in a city
Although city life has drawbacks, it makes up for them with all it offers. Large cities are important cultural hubs with thriving music and art scenes, a vast range of cuisine, additional attractions like museums, sporting events like ball games and concerts, and a diverse population sharing the urban lifestyle.

The Benefits of Living in a City

1. Meeting New Faces. Everywhere you go, you will meet new people. Nevertheless, in a metropolis, where a variety of people come from all over the world, the experience is different. A city also has a larger population. Thus you will frequently run into new people. It can be energizing and enlightening to meet and converse with new people who have had very diverse life experiences from your own.
2. Activities/ Night Life. You probably know your town very well and have done about everything there is to do if you have lived there for ten or more years. Even if you live in a major city for ten years, you won’t be able to take advantage of everything it has to offer. In a big city, there is always something to do to keep individuals from growing bored with their diverse interests. Most cities provide exciting nightlife, various cuisines to sample, shows of all kinds, museums, landmarks, parks, festivals, sporting events, and more. There are many options in big cities to join the scene if you are a musician, visual artist, or performer.
3. Public Transportation. The public transportation system is a decent alternative to driving your own vehicle and navigating big cities’ traffic and parking issues. You can go where you need to go using trains, subways, buses, taxis, and ride-sharing vehicles in cities. You can avoid the hassle of driving by using one of the many relatively reasonable public transit options, such as the bus or train. In most big cities, it’s possible to live without a car.
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4. Big Events. Major cities host the largest events, including sporting competitions, concerts, festivals, and art openings. You don’t need to make the long commutes to and from the suburbs to attend a concert or a baseball game.
5. Share Experience. The fact that everyone in a large metropolis with millions of residents comes from varied backgrounds and experiences city life similarly can be incredibly reassuring. Large cities are friendlier than most people think, and if you frequent the same spots and engage in the same pursuits, you’ll rapidly meet new individuals who share your interests and likely move there for similar reasons to yours.
7. Free Activities. There are numerous free things to do when planned effectively, even if many activities are normally more expensive due to the greater overhead costs. You can spend the entire day keeping occupied for free by going to the park, window shopping, touring museums on free days, and taking in the sights downtown. Even though you won’t be spending any money, you will undoubtedly spend time at these breathtaking locations and maximize your urban experience.
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8. Higher Salary. Employers are typically prepared to pay extra despite the high cost of living in the city. This is why many suburban residents commute into the city for a better wage while still taking advantage of the low cost of living.
9. More Jobs Available. Companies dominate city towers, so going without a job is difficult. However, locating one that pays your high rent could be challenging. But a city with many businesses also has many job prospects. You’re likely to find one you adore. According to statistics, those who live in major cities have access to more job prospects than those who live in the suburbs or smaller towns.
10. Close to Restaurants. In cities, there is always a need for fine dining. Within a mile or two, you can find a cuisine you appreciate, from fast food franchises to fine dining restos.
Although the city’s dining cost is typically greater due to increased rent, many restaurants offer lunch and supper deals and have food vendors available. You’ll need to research to take advantage of the best bargains.

The Disadvantages of Living in a City

Those who frequently travel to or work in a big city are aware of how troublesome they may be. Large cities might be more challenging to navigate because of the increased population, traffic, and neighborhood density. The biggest drawbacks of living in a big metropolis are as follows:
1. High Cost of Living. When people consider moving to a city, the increased cost of living is usually the first drawback they consider. Ordinary living costs like rent and utilities tend to be higher in big cities, and you can have additional costs like parking permits and laundry that you wouldn’t have in the suburbs. Major cities also have higher prices for gasoline, alcohol, food, and tobacco items.
2. Noise. Major cities typically have higher noise levels than the suburbs. Cities produce greater noise due to increased traffic, more people, trains, and neighboring airports with noisy jets flying in and out. A neighborhood may become noisier and more crowded due to special events like concerts and sporting events.
3. Limited Space. Downsizing your living area is nearly always required when moving from the suburbs to the city. Most people reside in flats in big cities; in some places, the apartments might be smaller. Having an outdoor area like a patio or yard is also uncommon. Homes with decent-sized yards are available in big cities but are significantly more expensive than homes in the suburbs. If you want to live in a city, you must be okay with your neighbors being on the other side of your walls in an apartment complex.
4. Limited Parking Space. Parking in a big city is an enormous nuisance compared to the suburbs. In the suburbs, parking is permitted in driveways and on residential streets, and most companies offer parking lots for patrons to utilize. Parking is only sometimes guaranteed in large cities. Streets with free parking quickly fill up because certain residential streets only allow permit parking, which requires you to purchase a permit. Some apartments have a designated parking place, albeit they are uncommon. Also, it is uncommon for businesses to have parking lots, so you will probably have to pay to park somewhere on the street, possibly even a few streets from where you need to go.
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5. Higher Auto-Vehicle Insurance Premiums. Congested city life will increase your chance of accidents if you must have a car and live in a city. As a result, city residents will pay a greater insurance premium than those who live in the suburbs.
6. Increasing Crime Rates. You can bet on urban locations to be riskier than smaller communities, even if some cities have higher crime rates than others. Crime increases with population.

The Current Situation of City Center Apartments

The majority of people concur that the real estate market has altered recently. Thus, it’s crucial to take into account a few factors when determining if new city center flats are still wise investments:

1. The real estate sector, notably the market for apartments in cities, has been impacted by Covid. People’s preferences for where to live (and rent) and what kinds of properties have been impacted. Nowadays, more people are working remotely. Some workers no longer require access to an office. Hence, renting or buying a home in the city center or living there is no longer necessary.
   
2. Some business offices in the city center have scaled back on their floor space. Less demand for city center flats may result from fewer individuals working in urban areas. The practice of hybrid working, where people work partially from home and partially from the office, is becoming more widespread. The same goes for flexible working, which allows employees to choose how much time they spend in the office each week. Often, newly constructed flats in city centers are small and need more space for working from home. In the so-called “race for space,” some city dwellers emigrated to the suburbs and the countryside to find more space.
   

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1. People became aware of the value of outdoor space for health and well-being because of Covid. Outdoor space is uncommon in newly constructed residences in city centers. Many people need easy access to public parks and other outdoor areas.
   
2. Currently, some things could be improved regarding the direction of the economy. There may be less demand for housing in city centers if businesses that employ people there cut their workforces. In certain cities, proposals exist to develop thousands of additional brand-new apartments in the city center. Apartments in these places may be harder to lease due to high levels of new supply and low projected demand. It could imply that their worth has not increased as much as it would have (or they might even fall in value).
   
3. Due to economic worries, apartment developers in the city center might opt to cut back their plans. Supplies could decrease. Future shortages of this kind of real estate may occur.
   
4. Renters and builders compete. In some cities, build-to-rent, or BTR, is growing in acceptance. Large developers and financial entities fund and construct flats to be rented out rather than sold. Build-to-rent apartment buildings give private landlords in the city center additional competition in the rental market.
   
5. Co-living projects, where investors construct towers of studio apartments with shared facilities, are starting to pop up in several city centers. They may increase the level of competition for apartment rentals.
   
6. but are they still a wise investment? Here, we’ll examine the benefits and drawbacks of this specific property type.
   

Why City Center Apartments (Can’t) Make Great Investments

Here are the primary factors that have contributed to new city center flats making excellent buy-to-let investments over time:

"Golden rules" about buying cheap flights, like booking domestic flights 57 days before the departure date, are no longer valid, as there has been a huge shift in the travel industry in what days were thought the cheapest to booking flights. If a study has not been conducted recently, or only one year ago, do not put too much faith in it; there's no reason to worry about booking a flight far in advance. The stellar tips below are current.
Check airlines which don't appear on 3rd party websitesOne of the major weaknesses of Internet search engines is that they frequently will not display the flights of all airlines such as Southwest, Frontier, and Allegiant. To solve this problem, use a free resource like Wikipedia to learn which of these airlines operates a certain airport. Visit Wikipedia, go to their airport page, and search for a section called "Airlines and destinations." You are advised to locate a list of each airline that flies to that airport as well as all the nonstop destinations that airport operates. So, once you become aware of any carriers which did not show up in your first searches, you could now look for flights straight on the airlines' sites.Search one-way & round-trip flightsOnce upon a time the majority of round-trip flights were cheaper than booking two one-way airfare flights. That's no longer the situation today. For instance, Southwest and Jetblue set their prices for their flights on a one-way basis; and a round-trip flight is only the sum of the 2 one-way rates. So, you'll want to check one-way flight rates to ensure you buy the best round-trip deal by pairing two one-way flight tickets, probably on two different carriers.Look for one seat at a timeThere exists a virtually unknown quirk in how carriers price seats which could result in greater prices if searching for many passengers as opposed to a single ticket. Airlines put their inventory in fare classes, or called buckets, which are not always obviously visible to customers. For instance, there may be just three seats left in a fare bucket for $300 each, and the next higher bucket may be $400 for each ticket. But, if you happen to look for four seats, each one would end up falling into the $400 fare bucket.Search alternate airportsAt times the cost of a certain flight is extremely high that it could be a good idea to use your second or even third choice of airports. For instance, you perhaps are aware of the New York area's 3 biggest airports: New York-JFK, Newark (EWR), and New York-LaGuardia. But did you know that Stewart (SWF), Westchester (HPN), and Long Island McArthur (ISP) are also in the region? Several airlines permit you to look for all airports in a region by just specifying the destination as the city itself rather than a certain airport. The ITA Matrix tool is also a great way to look for close by if you do not know the area too well, and Google Flights offers a "Nearby airports" option to assist in this search, too.Don't always travel directBeing flexible with your route you'll be flying is another way to find a cheap flight. For instance, at times it's cheaper to travel to London and use a budget airline to Amsterdam instead of flying directly to Amsterdam from the actual departure city.To utilize this approach, learn how much it costs to fly directly to the target destination. Next, open Google Flights, type in the destination's details like country name to see the rates to nearby airports. If the difference happens to exceed $150 dollars, find out how much it actually is to fly from the 2nd airport to the main destination.Leverage elite statusAlthough having elite status will not allow you to book flights at a discount, you still could use it to save money another way. But with elite status with the majority of airlines let you to standby for earlier flights or perform same-day verified flight modifications. This can permit you to buy a discounted airline flight at an awful time, only to modify it to the flight you really want but at no extra charge. Even without elite status, the charge to standby or make a same-day verified flight modification might be less than the airfare difference between the flight you truly want and the lowest option that day.Use the correct credit cardThe right credit card may very well provide you major savings on flight tickets in a number of various ways. For instance, The Platinum Card from American Express now offers 5x points on all airline bookings made directly with the carrier or with Amex travel, worth 10 cents each dollar spent, based on TPG's recent valuations. That card in addition offers the International Airfare Program, providing cardholders discounts for premium class flights on certain airlines.Search for free hotels and stopover toursWhenever an airline imposes a lengthy layover because of its very tight schedule, the airline will usually offer a free STPC, or stopover paid by carrier, which can include a free tour or hotel room as well.
Don't mind the mythsThe initial and main fact to know whenever locating a cheap flight is there exists no magic trick for achieving this objective. There are however a ton of myths floating online about certain ways to seek cheap flights. Without doubt, you must have run into a lot of them while searching for the best flight deals.Airline companies use advanced technology like computers and pricing algorithms for determining flight prices and offer deals based on various factors like time of the year, weather, time of day, passenger demand, fuel prices, competitor prices, and others. These myths and similar ones will lead you astray. Be flexible in respect to your travel times & datesAirline flight rates vary a lot depending on upcoming holidays, day of the week, and time of the year. August is a major month for flying to Europe, and plenty of people are planning to travel somewhere hot during winter or fly while the kids are taking a break from school.In summation, if you're traveling when everyone is also flying, then logically your flight price will be higher.Flexibility is everything for cheap plane tickets & cheap flight dealsThe more flexible you are, you'll get better cheap flight deals you can book. Here's a new way of doing things: Instead of deciding where to go next, choosing dates, and then searching for the cheap plane tickets to certain destinations on those particular dates, consider first selecting your destination and dates based on the best going deals available. By exercising greater flexibility where you travel and the specific dates you fly, you will have a far better opportunity to find cheaper airfare.Book first, think later for cheap flight finder cancellationTake complete advantage of the free 24-hour cancellation window while purchasing flights. Because of the Department of Transportation's strict regulations, any cheap flight booked to or from the United States could be canceled without worry of incurring a penalty, for 24 hours after the flight's reservation; it must be booked no less than one week before the flight's departure. Yes, it's a very good idea to use a cheap flight finder these days. What this means is that if you buy a flight and the ticket price drops within 24 hour window, you could cancel the original flight and purchase the new, less expensive one.Warning: the 24-hour rule can only work for flights directly bought with the airline or with booking engines such as Priceline.Set a price alert for all cheap flight ticketsYou can choose emails or push notices to your cell phone which will tell you exactly when the flight you are interested in has increased or decreased in price. This may be a great way for getting the best possible price on all cheap flight tickets in the near future. You can do this on the majority of search travel sites and OTAs. Why miss out on potential easy savings? You can then always locate flight tickets cheap when you need them.Buy in foreign currency to get cheap flight ticketBecause regular fliers travel abroad now and then, you could switch the currency on the airline's website to determine if the price would be listed in other monies.You can save big this way. For example, if an airline increased the flight price in US dollars but not in Indian rupee, you could book flights at half the price! But this may require altering either the location or language on the airline's website; or you may change to the home country's URL, where ticket prices are generally cheapest by searching in its local currency. This is how you can in fact find cheap flight ticket to wherever you like to travel.Sign up for an airline's travel rewards credit card for cheap flight bookingOne of the smartest ways to take full advantage from travel credit cards is to use the hefty sign-up bonuses. For example, if you sign up for a new travel card when the airline is offering unusually high quantity of bonus miles, you could score yourself literally thousands of dollars worth of reward points by just opening the card.Although several of these travel cards could have higher annual fees, a big sign-up bonus may amount for months or even years worth of cheap flight booking for you and your whole family.The cheapest day to book flightsEven though you might see great deals flashing on your computer screen for international airfare three to six months out, if you are flying during peak times, or perhaps your plans are not very flexible, it's smart to begin searching sooner. The cheapest day to book flights actually evades many flyers.This does not automatically mean you ought to purchase tickets when hitting the 6-month window; hold on till you book cheap flights online. And, just ignore the old advice that travel experts often repeat regarding booking the cheapest flights at 3:00 a.m. on Tuesday; that used to be true but now airfare prices are updated often and great deals could pop up any given moment when least expected. So, now you can secure a flight cheap most of the time.Utilize momondo to book cheap flight air ticketsUpon finding what you imagine to be the cheapest flight wherever, try searching on Momondo; it will search dozens of OTAs; bear in mind that it may not display the cheapest fares seen on large OTAs and Google Flights. But you got a greater chance to find cheap air tickets sooner this way. Otherwise, only one cheap air ticket may be attained, if tried another manner. Now you too can enjoy when you book cheap flight tickets when you need them.Fly cheap during the low seasonHave you ever scanned flight prices from the USA to Europe's insanely popular cities in August? Surpassing quite easily $1000.00, they can frighten seasoned and expert travelers alike.But are those the same ticket prices in February? So, fly cheap from major hubs in USA to Europe, you could often locate roundtrip flights throughout the winter months for less than $400 or even $300!Fly basic economy for cheap air flightsA basic economy flight ticket could save you money, if you do not require checked luggage or advance seat selection. Pay only for what you need. In theory, you'll achieve cheap air flights via this option.Enroll in the airline's loyalty program for cheap airfareIf you fly one particular airline often, join its loyalty program in order to earn points each time you go anywhere. Then, you can redeem such points for upgrades or cheap airfare in the future. If you accumulate enough miles and achieve a considerable status with the airline, you might receive free upgrades. Now, you can take fuller advantage of cheap air fare whenever you require it.Skiplag to discover hidden-city cheap airfares & last minute flightsHidden-city ticketing happens by booking a flight to a place beyond your final destination, and then end your flight on the layover city. This could help you in getting cheap airfares as well as best last minute flights to most destinations. Think about it: can you imagine a better, more creative way to book cheap air fares while searching the Internet?Prolong your layovers for cheapest flight ticketsSometimes only by extending a layover a few days in another city in-between, you can score cheapest flight tickets to your original destination. In conclusion, more often than not, you'll usually find the cheapest flight ticket by following this method consistently. Why not? A lot of people are discovering that they are by accident getting the cheapest flight via the extended layovers.Don't overlook sales for cheapest flight bookingAirlines are frequently offering amazing deals which you may jump on fast enough and save yourself hundreds of dollars on your next flight. Sign up for your favorite airline's newsletter to be on top of their latest flight deals. This is yet another way to know about the cheapest flight booking that becomes available whenever.Focus on going across the ocean for cheap fly ticketsIf you are thinking to visit a distant location, it could be less expensive to book one ticket to the main hub, and then a second ticket from there to your final destination. For example, if you wish to fly to Alhambra, Spain, it's probably cheaper to book one roundtrip flight from your home to Madrid and a second roundtrip ticket from Madrid to Alhambra than it would be to buy a ticket to Alhambra on one itinerary. In essence, you'll end up with cheap fly tickets by following the above example.Don't overlook destinations with low cost carriers to get cheapest flightsCarriers such as Frontier, AirTran, and Southwest all drive down airfares along their routes. So, it may be quite wise to travel a bit longer to a larger airport with low-cost carriers, because even major carriers flights will most likely be cheaper. Using this method regularly, you are more likely to find the cheapest flights to most if not all your destinations. Why not take advantage of low cost flights whenever possible?Avoid Friday, Sunday flights, & traditional air travel daysThis may mean going away before and returning later than usual, or even flying exactly on the holiday. Pelletier, the air travel specialist, says you can save up to 50% by simply flying Christmas Eve or Day. She said: "We saved $300 per ticket around Thanksgiving for our family of four by flying out the Saturday before Thanksgiving and coming back the Saturday after. Not everyone can swing that with their work schedules, so my advice is to leave Thanksgiving day and return on Saturday for cheaper fares."Begin with a reputable flight search engine to find cheapest international flightsWhile searching for a flight, the initial thing you will wish to do is determine which airlines run a certain route and get an estimated price on the biggest carriers. Opposed to individually visiting all of these airlines' sites, begin by looking for a website which will provide results from many airlines and different combinations of carriers. You may end up with the cheapest international flights this way. So, you could start with Expedia or another such as Orbitz, Hotwire, Travelocity, and Cheap Tickets. Do not ignore Google Flights, which, though a very powerful search engine, know that it's not a booking platform and can't buy a flight ticket there. This is how you could find cheapest flights to many popular locations.Be flexible where you go to book discount flightsIf for some reason or another you cannot be flexible with the time factor of your flight, then try to be flexible with your destinations. It's ideal to be both. However, you still can save a lot of money and book discount flights by being flexible with either factor.You don't have to conduct manual searches, going city by city and day by day. Websites such as Google Flights, Skyscanner, and Momondo provide explore tools and permit you to add your nearest airport and see a world map with all the possible flights on it. This helps you to quickly compare many destinations with no need to brainstorm each potential option.Fly budget airlines/carriersMany years ago, you were generally stuck flying with traditional costly airlines. That's not true anymore. Budget airlines today service both short and medium-haul routes all over the world. For example, AirAsia provides incredible cheap flight deals around Australia and Asia for less than $150 dollars! Indian and Middle Eastern air carriers sell cheap flight tickets throughout Africa and the subcontinent.Book early: how to find the cheapest flightsYou can discover how to find the cheapest flights by booking early. Although flight rates continue climbing the nearer you get to departure, there exists a great spot along the way when airline companies start to reduce or increase flight prices based on demand. Do not wait till the last moment but do not book too far in advance. The ideal time to buy your flight ticket is about 2 to 3 months prior to your departure, or even about 5 months prior if you're flying there in their peak season.

Hi everyone. I'm usually a decent trip planner, but for whatever reason I am having trouble deciding what to do for a very short Ireland trip in June. My wife and I are flying into Dublin on a Monday morning and have to be in Limerick by Wednesday evening for a conference. We don't plan on spending any time in Dublin. We live in a very crowded city and just want to see some beautiful open (and green!) countryside or coasts. We have a rental car. It'll be our first time in Ireland.
The first idea is of course to drive the Ring of Kerry. Day 1 we'd drive into Kenmare or Killarney. Day 2 drive the Ring of Kerry. Day 3 drive to Limerick.
The second idea is to go straight across Ireland from Dublin, making a ring through Connemara and swinging down through the Burren and do the Doolin-Cliffs of Moher hike.
The third is drive to Galway or Doolin on day 1, day 2 have a day trip to the Aran Islands, day 3 see the Cliffs of Moher and drive to Limerick.
My question to everyone is which from your experiences sounds like the better or more feasible plan? Or is there something else we should consider entirely? The nice thing about ideas 1 and 3 is that we could stay in the same place for the 2 nights.
Some general information about our traveling: I'm comfortable driving through any little winding, challenging road, we like hikes (I can handle long hikes, though great elevation change is a challenge for me) and enjoy stopping at whatever historical sites we might run across on the road. We generally like going off the beaten path when traveling, but I know so little about Ireland that I haven't a clue what that'd be (and it's the summer so there may not even be much in that category). Thanks in advance!

WARNING: This story contains strong language, mild violence & fictional political radicalism.
(Note, this story portrays the human side in a morally negative light. If you do not like that, then turn back now.)

ULJJAK KASERKOR, ANDZAKTAR, THE HOMEWORLD, ANDZAK EMPIRE, 11,772 A.C. 

Standing in the centre of the Andzak Governing District, in the heart of the Andzak Empire, is the Tree of Civilisation. While there is no direct translation into Human Standard, the meaning of the tree, including its name, stood for the long continuity of Andzak civilisation and the Andzak Empire.
Surrounding the tree were the marvellous palaces of the Imperial Government, the Imperial Advisory Council directly appointed by the emperor among them. The palaces were meant to be opulent and expensive, as if you were a lowly governor coming in from the Outer Provinces, the rows and rows of perfectly symmetric crystalline walls combined with the mirrors to allow the Andzak aristocracy to witness the superb influence of the Imperial Authorities.
Looking into those spotlessly clean mirrors was me, Deputy Governor Uljjak Kaserkor. According to Imperial audits of my activities, I am a "sub-par administrator, foreign to both the Andzak Empire and it's traditions, and the Andzak aristocracy" as Councillor Dlirij once said. In short, they've been looking for an excuse to exile me to a low-ranking advisory position on a third-band world out in the middle of nowhere.
And, as such, I am keeping this diary to myself, so in the event that Councillor Dlirij or one of his cronies tries to bring up charges against me, I am capable of fighting them effectively.
So, what am I doing, thousands of lightyears from my homeworld looking up at the Tree? I am here to report to the Advisory Council of an intense gamma-ray disturbance next to the uninhabited system of [UAG-2113]. Gamma ray disturbances of this scale usually mean the development and testing of superluminal weapons, which are severely restricted under the [Interstellar Accords].
Superluminal weapons are capable of obliterating entire solar systems if given enough energy. The most powerful superluminal weapon ever tested by the Andzak Empire vaporised 3 light-years of space, and fried every unprotected electronic within 117 light-years.
So this means it is understandable that the Empire might be concerned by yet another civilisation in hold of these excessively powerful weapons, especially if they don't know who has them, and they're being tested in the Centauran Reserves, an area that has barely been explored by the Empire due to the Centauran Pandemic a hundred years ago.
By my side, is the Military Advisor Vraxh Huljukrj. To be honest, we don't get along, and while I technically outrank him, stripping him of his rank would be an essential guarantee that the Regional Military Consul would be pissed. Vraxh has gotten into the Armed Forces through nepotism with the Consul.
"So you're bothering the Advisory Council with third-world bullshit just because one sensor buoy near a system nobody's ever heard of in the middle of fucking nowhere read some extra spicy particles?"
Vraxh, for whatever reason, still won't understand the severity of the situation, despite me having explained it to him at least a hundred times over the past 2 weeks we've been travelling here.
"I have explained this to you half a dozen times Vraxh, if you pester me about this decision one more time I will eject the rest of your belongings into space!"
To be honest, I haven't been particularly kind to him either. He kept bugging me with intentionally annoying overexaggerated questions over the 2 weeks we've been travelling here, so while he was in the bathroom, I ejected the bed in his room into the vacuum of space. While he wasn't amused, I found it incredibly funny.
"Okayy, fuck! Fine.."
Maybe I'll have even garnered his false support when the aristocrats in the Advisory Council wonder what I'm doing there.
Me and Vraxh right behind me walked up to the meetings desk. Behind the desk, is a short and relatively aged Andzakian in the uniform worn by imperial servants. He is looking at his holopad, appearing to have not noticed the two borderworlders at the desk. I attempted to grab his attention.
"Hello, sir?"
The imperial servant didn't appear to be surprised, and just looked up at the two with a condescending glare, confirming that he did infact know they were there, and just didn't pay any attention.
"Imperial Advisory Council case #1,714?"
He said the words sharply, as if he had already thought of them hours in advance.
"Yes, sir. A gamma ray disturbance in syste-"
"I don't care. Wait in the lobby, when you are called, arrive on time."
The servant interrupted me rudely, before pointing at a sitting area in the lobby.
I walked over to the lobby and sat down, with Vraxh reluctantly following me. After half an hour of awkwardly silent waiting, the loudspeaker in the lobby called,
"Uljjak Kaserkor and Vraxh Huljukrj, attend conference chamber C-1 immediately."
I immediately got up pulling Vraxh with me, before hastily making my way over to the conference chamber.
The guards at the door opened the heavy chamber doors with a loud thunk.
Sitting in the furthest conference seat was- god damn it, I shouldn't have come!
Sitting in the fanciest conference seat of them all, was Councillor Dlirij, with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen.
"Deputy Governor Uljjak Kaserkor. What matters do you disturb the Advisory Council with this time?" Dlirij said, in generic aristocratic government drone.
I steeled myself with my own government training, before responding through nearly clenched teeth,
"Councillor Dlirij, thank you for coming to address my meeting."
Saying it was my meeting whilst also not using the formal address style was something I knew would piss Dlirij off, but thankfully he couldn't do anything about it according to the formal rules of the palace.
Indeed, Dlirij's grin reduced and he just looked me in the eyes, before saying,
"Deputy Governor, get straight to the point. What do you have to show me?"
I laid out a briefcase on the table, opening it and beginning to explain.
"3 weeks ago, an intense gamma event occured in the uninhabited system [UAG-2113], 3,679 light-years from the Homeworld."
I took a deep breath.
"As you would know as a Councillor, Councillor Dlirij, gamma-intense events in this fashion nearly always signal the activation of a superluminal weapon, legally considered an ultraintense weapon by the Interstellar Accords and thus prohibited for any Interstellar State to possess them aside from the Andzak Empire, the Union of Galactic Republics, and the Ksirlok Dependency."
I paused.
"I am requesting an Advisory Council initiated investigation into what caused the disturbance. If this is not achieved, it could be greatly threatening to the order in the Galaxy."
I then handed Dlirij the papers, which he started to look through.
In the silence while Dlirij looked through the papers, Vraxh had said nothing. I gave him a subtle glare for him to contribute, which he did. He reluctantly said, without thought,
"Councillor Dlirij, the Military Consulate will be the next to be contacted, if we do not succeed here."
I was not pleased with what Vraxh had said. He tried to challenge the Councillor's authority with a threat to go to the military establishment if we got nowhere here. I opted to remain silent though.
Dlirij looked at Vraxh with a glare of anger, before looking back down at the papers.
A few more awkward minutes passed, before Dlirij passed the papers back to me.
"So, you spend 2 weeks travelling to the Imperial Homeworld and the most honourable palaces of the Empire, with your little sidekick, just to bother me, Hasjaxhar Dlirij, with gamma radiation readings from one isolated buoy, nevertheless in the Centauran Reserves, where it has been proven by the Imperial Surveying Authority that there is no intelligent life?"
Dlirij's hand moved underneath the table.
"Councillor Dlirij, I believe you are mistaken by what I have given an explained to you, please-"
At this moment the guards burst through the door, before knocking us both out with the butt of their plasma rifles.
...

SEVEN FOUR EIGHT, NEW YORK CITY, TERRA, ALMIGHTY CELESTIAL STATE, 147 A.R. 

"...Comrades! On this date, July 16th, 147 years since the Revolution, humanity has taken yet another great leap under the leadership of the State. On this day, we have successfully detonated a superluminal weapon."
"A weapon that breaks the laws of the universe, a weapon that propels an object at thousands of times the speed of light, before dropping it back into realspace just before it hits its target. A weapon that, prior to today, the distant enemies of humanity cannot have dreamed of. A weapon that has just obliterated the Wolf 359 star system. Due to the ingenuity of our technology, not only do we get to witness the flash of our excellence, but we can also observe from this distance with our electronics intact!"
"Today, from this date, humanity is not only indivisible, but invincible! We, led forwards by the State, shall never be destroyed by those distant in the void, and our Black Banner shall soon fly on every planet in the Milky Way!"
The crowd cheered.
From my position, it looked fairly typical for a propaganda gathering. Soldiers surrounding the speaking Party official on a tall podium, with the Black Banner of the Almighty Celestial State flying calmly but sternly in the wind. Mounted to structures surrounding the gathering area are various slogans of the Celestial State, among them "HUMANITY INDIVISIBLE" and "THE STARS ARE OURS".
Truth be told, I am not an avid supporter of the ideology or the State. I come from a rural background in the middle of nowhere in North America, and have only joined the Armed Forces because the Party Militia showed up for their quota of soldiers.
In the State, all jobs are connected to, and thus in support, of the Armed Forces. While I was perfectly happy to continue living a solitary life with my family in rural America, I honestly didn't have much choice, and so here I am.
After the gathering, we are told to go back to our barracks and thus be assigned roles by the commanding officer.
I come through the door, and am immediately escorted to the commanding officer with two elite Party Militia members to my side.
"Soldier #7,487,782,311. Due to demand, you are being changed from Military Communications to Reconnaissance starting immediately. You will be transported to the Orbital Station, before boarding a Javelin class reconnaissance ship. The ship will not set sail into the void immediately, so the new crew can get accommodated."
"Got it, commissar. I will be ready in 5 minutes."
The commissar seemed to offer a pleasant nod, before stamping my identity card with the official Government stamp. It read,
"ALMIGHTY CELESTIAL STATE
#7,487,782,311
APPROVAL TO LEAVE THE MANHATTAN DISTRICT
ISSUED BY C.O. #2,349,522 - IF DISCREPANT CONTACT NUMBER ON SLIP"
I packed all of my belongings into a state-issued carrying pack.
Looking at how many belongings I have, pretty much just my uniform and Communication Device made me reminiscent for a time I never lived. How was the world before the Revolution? According to my family, the world was far better before the Revolution. They even had food that they could buy from private individuals, and not just State rations, which I find hard to believe.
The Communications Device had a light next to it's camera that blinked red every few seconds. This was to indicate that the camera was actively recording and watching me. I decided to stop thinking treasonous thoughts, and finished folding and packing my uniform, before taking my carrying pack with me.
After leaving the barracks, I walk past a building with the Emblem of the Celestial State painted on one of the walls, with artistic sunrays surrounding it. There are soldiers saluting the emblem, surrounded by armed party militia, while reciting the pledge of loyalty. I continue walking between two barracks towards the rocket area.
This base is lucky specifically to have it's own dedicated orbital rocket area. If I was stationed out west, I'd likely have to spend hours in the back of a troop transport vehicle being driven to the nearest site.
After a few minutes of walking down the bleak path, I reach the rocket area. There are people queuing to get in the rockets, and I join the queue. All of the soldiers infront of me look at the very least uncomfortable, and some look terrified. While looking ahead of me, a place ahead of me I see a vaguely familiar face.
"Eight one four, do I recognise you?"
His eyes go wide, and he recognises me almost immediately.
You see, this is a childhood friend of mine. Was my neighbour, in the rural countryside and the absence of the state, fuck, even when some parts were controlled by the Resistance, we could play forbidden games from the pre-revolution world.
I moved away from him probably 4 or 5 years ago with my family, which ended up being a mistake. It was in a larger community where the Guards showed up and conscripted me alongside a number of my family members.
"Yes, yes! I recognise you! An-"
Without even thinking, I cover his mouth with my hand.
"Don't!"
His face goes white and he realises the mistake he was about to make, and thus addresses me the proper informal way.
"Seven four eight, how have you been?"
"I've been decent. Can't say too much to be honest. Just bumbled around trying to look for something to do. Then I ended up here. You know how that's like."
Eight four one chuckles.
"Yeah, I know how it is."
We both tried to avoid treasonous language, which prevented us from having a meaningful discussion. It was nice to catch up though.
The line slowly moves forwards. I am close enough to the entrance of the orbital craft to hear a commotion ahead involving my friend.
"Soldier #8,142,327,494! Present your identity documents!"
The Soldier ruffles through his carry pack looking for his identity documents, and after a while, finds them.
"Eight one four! These documents do not have the commissar stamp!"
Two militia members point their service rifles at my unfortunate friend. I am enraged and know what is about to happen, but there is nothing I can do. I look around and see the guardsmen in the guards building, as well as a few guards snipers in watchtowers above us.
I helplessly watch as a third guardsman knocks him to the ground with the butt of his rifle, before he is hand and leg cuffed and escorted away. New militiamen come out of the guards building to take up their positions. I just silently hang my head, performing a neutral expression.
I arrive at the front of the line.
"#7,487,782,311! Your permission slip!"
I feel for it in the pocket in my pants, as that's where I left it.
Except, my pocket is flat, with no identity documents, I frantically feel inside the pocket, and do not feel them.
My face goes white and it feels like my knees are about to give way.
I look inside my carry pack with the guard giving me an intense stare. I find my documents, and hand them to the guard. He checks and verifies them, and I am let past. While walking past the guard, I hear over my shoulder from the other guard,
"Seven four eight. Do not forget the location of your identity documents next time. You know the consequences."
I walk aboard the ship without holding up the line, and sit down in a cramped troop transport seat. It wouldn't matter, entering orbit only takes a few minutes.
I look out of the orbit craft door towards my friend being escorted away into the distance, he gives me one final, depressed look, before him and his escort round the corner.
After a few minutes, the last soldier in the line is boarded onto the ship, and a loudspeaker voice calls to the gathering area that the ships will be leaving.
The landing door closes and the ship shudders. Due to the lack of windows, I have no idea what is going on outside. I am pressed back and down into my seat, as the ship accelerates into the sky.
The acceleration gradually slows until I can only feel the shudder of the ship fighting the atmosphere as it leaves. Gradually, gravity weakens and I begin to feel no weight in my seat.

EIGHT ONE FOUR, NEW YORK CITY, TERRA, ALMIGHTY CELESTIAL STATE, 147 A.R. 

As I round the corner, I see my friend's look on his face. Steeled sadness. I appreciated it in a world of no emotion.
The guardsmen around me had tied my leg cuffs too tightly but were also forcing me to hurry up and walk at their speed.
As I am forced underneath the temporary holding shelter, my leg cuffs are cuffed to a support beam of the structure. The guards then walk into the commissar's office, while a guard in a watchtower keeps an eye on me.
I see the landing ship my friend is on slowly start hover into the sky. Blue plasma shoots out of its 4 engine ports. It stops increasing in altitude, turns around and rapidly accelerates. I see it shoot off into the distance with a vapor cone around it's tail. The extremely loud rumble of it's engines slowly gets quieter and quieter, until it disappears from view.
The guards return from the commissar's office.
Both with neutral steeled expressions return to the shelter. I am held down and injected with a needle, and my vision slowly fades to black.

Chapter Two - Part One
Second Half
__________________
Beginning of Entry…
StarDate: Redacted
Perspective: Major Commander Michael Irons
Species: Human, Humanoid Mammalian Species, no tail.
Description: 5 feet 2 inches [1.6 meters] to 6 feet 9 inches [2.1 meters] average height. 185 lbs [84 kilograms] average weight.
Longevity: 70 to 500-year life expectancy with life extension medical tech.
Unique Trait: Resilience and Indomitable Will.
Place: New Paris (Capital City)
Location: New Eden Prime
In the early hours, as the dawn cast a pallid light over New Eden Prime, the situation unfolded with urgent clarity. Major Commander Michael Irons, alongside Captain Adam Richter, adjusted his Raider armor, his eyes scanning the horizon where the silhouettes of enemy ships began to materialize. Both men were seasoned veterans, their faces etched with the lines of many battles, their demeanor calm yet alert. They awaited instructions as they stood amid the bustling rally point filled with soldiers and militia.
Their focus shifted as Colonel Nick Estrada approached, his imposing figure cutting through the morning mist, the tension palpable in the air. The urgency of the situation had drawn commanders and soldiers alike, all responding to the blare of alarms that had roused the colony from sleep and into action. Colonel Nick Estrada approached, his presence commanding immediate attention. His frame was not just physically imposing but carried the authority of a man who had seen countless skirmishes and emerged victorious. The commanders snapped to attention, though the informality of the crisis allowed for a quicker exchange.
Colonel Estrada, known for his strategic acumen, surveyed the gathered officers before speaking. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Major Commander Irons, Captain Richter, the enemy fleet is now visible. We're seeing a full spectrum—we're up against a formidable enemy. Reconnaissance has identified a significant fleet composition—strike craft, corvettes, frigates, and troop transports. They're not just probing our defenses; they're here for a full-scale invasion."
Major Commander Irons nodded solemnly, absorbing the gravity of the situation. The enemy's intentions were clear: to overwhelm and conquer. "Do we have any intel on their motivations, sir?" he asked, his mind racing through potential strategies.
Estrada's eyes narrowed as he reviewed the latest data on his tactical pad. "Current assessments suggest their primary objective could be resource acquisition or territory expansion. Given the organized nature of their fleet, we can't rule out the possibility of them establishing a forward operating base," he explained, his finger tracing possible invasion routes on the holographic display before them.
Irons' jaw tightened at the assessment. "Have we identified their point of origin or any specific markings that could tell us who we're dealing with?" he asked, his mind racing through the catalog of known hostile factions and their usual tactics.
Captain Richter, ever the tactician, chimed in, "If we can disrupt their landing operations and take out their troop transports, we might slow their advance and buy us some time to fortify positions."
"Not yet," Estrada replied, turning to gaze at the display screen that showed the advancing ships. "Their configurations are unfamiliar, which suggests they're not from any known hostile group within our usual conflict zones. This could be a new player or a proxy force from a rival colony. But it's clear they want New Eden, as the orbital forces were obliterated in minutes."
Estrada, after careful consideration, turned to face the digital map highlighting strategic points around the colony. 'That's a start, but we need a comprehensive plan,' he declared. 'Irons, your units will be crucial in the eastern sector, where their fleet appears most concentrated. Richter, your teams will be our shield in the orbital defenses; we cannot allow them to establish a foothold there."
Richter chimed in, his voice steady despite the escalating tension. "We need to assess their capabilities and intentions quickly. Are they aiming for strategic locations, or is this an outright attempt to overwhelm and occupy?"
Estrada nodded, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "Our immediate objective is to hold them at bay and protect civilian areas. I've already ordered evacuations where necessary. Irons, I need your units to fortify the eastern sector. It's closest to their projected landing sites."
"And I'll take the western approach," Richter added quickly. "It has fewer natural barriers, so I'll set up mobile defenses there."
Estrada approved with a brisk nod. "Good. I'll coordinate the orbital defenses to cover your flanks. We can't let them gain a foothold. Whatever their motive, it ends here."
The officers acknowledged their orders, understanding the critical nature of their tasks. Estrada continued. "We'll use the tram system for rapid redeployment. Keep your communications lines open, and expect dynamic orders. We need to be as adaptable as they are aggressive."
As the meeting drew to a close, Major Commander Irons felt the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. The survival of New Eden Prime hinged not only on their military prowess but also on their ability to outmaneuver an enemy whose capabilities remained largely shrouded in mystery.
With a final nod from Estrada, Irons and Richter dispersed to relay orders to execute their assignments; Irons felt the weight of the imminent conflict pressing down. Each step they took was heavy with the resolve to protect their home, knowing the enemy loomed just beyond the horizon, ready to test the mettle of New Eden's defenders. This wasn't just another border skirmish or a pirate raid. The scale of the invasion suggested a well-planned offensive by a formidable enemy.
Returning to his command post, Irons pulled up the tactical displays, which showed live feeds from drones and satellites tracking the enemy's advance. Each ship was marked in red and moved steadily towards New Eden's defensive perimeter.
"Let's show them what New Eden is made of," he muttered to himself, a mix of resolve and anticipation coursing through his veins.
This was his colony, his home, where his family and millions of others lived and dreamed of a peaceful future among the stars. Today, the peace and survival of the colony depended on his actions and those of his comrades.
As the first enemy ships entered range, Irons gave the order. "All units, engage at will. Prioritize frigates and anything making landfall. We hold the line, no matter what."
Back at the rally point, as shells began to crisscross the morning sky and the first explosions blossomed in the distance, Estrada and Richter coordinated their sectors' defenses, adjusting to the flow of battle. Each report, each burst of static on the comms, added to the day's growing chorus—a chorus filled with the sounds of a colony defending its very existence.
Above them, the sky turned from morning gray to the dark of smoke and fire, the battle for New Eden truly underway. As the alien forces made their ground assault on New Paris, Major Commander Michael Irons quickly marshaled his defensive strategies. The invaders had exploited a slight weakness at the equator of the planet's shield, where the northern and southern fields met, allowing a fraction of their invasion force to penetrate. This strategic breach had permitted several enemy corvettes and frigates to support the ground troops as they marched toward the city.
The morning sky, once clear and promising, was now darkened by the presence of enemy ships. Their shadows cast an ominous pall over the city as their engines roared menacingly overhead. Irons, stationed at the command post just on the outskirts of New Paris, observed the advancing enemy through his binoculars, his heart racing with adrenaline and cold determination.
Despite the thinning of their numbers due to the shield's resistance, the invaders pushed forward with relentless determination. Their landing crafts, equipped to penetrate the weakened shield points by slowing their descent, deployed troops directly into the fray. This strategic insertion allowed them to bypass the stronger defenses and land a significant force just outside the protective barrier of New Paris.
Irons, stationed at the command post, monitored the unfolding chaos through live drone feeds. The images displayed a grim tableau: columns of alien soldiers advancing toward the city, their movements methodical and unhurried, supported by the ominous silhouettes of their air support. The enemy's tactical acumen was evident in every maneuver, challenging the defenders of New Eden to adapt swiftly.
"Prepare all air defense units and activate the aerial defense batteries," Irons commanded into the comm, his voice steady despite the escalating threat. The air around him buzzed with the hurried movements of soldiers and the crackling of radio communications. The colony's air defense force, though robust, was significantly outnumbered without the support of their orbital fleet, which had been decimated in earlier skirmishes. "Target their air support first. We cut off the head, and the body will falter."
Acknowledgments crackled through his earpiece as his orders were relayed down the chain of command. New Eden's air defense force, though robust, was not designed for such a multifaceted assault. The absence of fleet support from orbit, a disadvantage painfully felt by every soldier on the ground, meant that each shot from the aerial defense batteries had to count.
On the battlefield, the sounds of warfare escalated. Explosions rippled across the early morning sky, painting it with streaks of fire as the colony's defenses engaged the invading air units. Irons watched as each successful strike brought down an enemy craft, each plummeting vessel a small victory in the shadow of an overwhelming threat.
Yet, even as they held the line against the aerial assault, the ground forces braced for the inevitable confrontation. The alien troops, undeterred by the resistance from above, continued their steady march towards New Paris. Their ranks, though reduced, remained formidable—a sea of figures clad in armor that glinted under the rising sun, their weapons poised for battle.
"The shields are holding, but we can't let them gain any more ground," Irons muttered, analyzing the tactical map that glowed with indicators of enemy movement. The slight gap in the shield at the equator was a glaring risk, one that could not be ignored. "Reroute additional units to the southern sector," he instructed, pointing to the area where the shield's weakness was most pronounced. "Fortify our positions there. I don't want a single invader breaking through."
His focus then shifted to the city's defenses. New Paris, a symbol of human resilience and ingenuity on the frontier, was fortified with multiple layers of defenses designed to repel invaders and protect its citizens. But today, those defenses would face their greatest test.
"We're on our own," Irons acknowledged, his gaze sweeping across the room filled with operators and strategists. "Every soldier, every pilot—we're what stands between them and the city. We hold them here, at the edge, before they can reach the heart of our home."
As the enemy's ground forces drew closer, the clash became imminent. Irons could see the front lines through the drones—human soldiers taking positions, their bodies tense with anticipation, their weapons trained on the approaching threat. The air crackled with the energy of impending combat, a mixture of fear, determination, and the indomitable will to protect their planet.
"Engage at maximum range," Irons commanded. "Use the terrain to our advantage. Make them come to us through the kill zones."
The enemy's corvettes and frigates hovered menacingly, coordinating the ground troops as they continued their relentless march toward the city's defenses. Irons could see the troops adjusting their formations and a tactical maneuver meant to optimize their approach under cover of their aerial support.
"Focus fire on those corvettes flanking to the east," Irons directed, pointing to the screens displaying satellite imagery. The operators quickly relayed his commands, adjusting the colony's firepower towards the threatening vessels.
Despite the heavy onslaught, the morale among Irons' men was resolute. They were well-trained and prepared to defend their home against all odds. The sound of anti-aircraft fire filled the air, a relentless symphony of defiance against the invading forces. Explosions lit up the morning sky as some of the enemy crafts took hits, their debris raining down and igniting small fires upon the rugged terrain of New Eden Prime.
Irons turned his attention back to the ground troops, noting the enemy's attempt to regroup after each barrage. "They're testing our defenses, looking for weak points. Make sure all sectors are covered and reinforce any undermanned positions," he instructed his lieutenants.
The battle was fierce, with every moment critical. The enemy's numerical advantage was evident, but the defenders of New Paris were determined to make every shot count. The city's aerial defense batteries worked in overdrive, targeting the enemy's air support in an attempt to level the playing field. The city's shield generators protected the city from any aerial bombardment from the frigates. Only the ground forces were a threat as long as the city's shield generators held, but with every strike from those frigates, the shield became weaker.
As the enemy advanced, a sudden and intense firefight erupted at the southern barricade. Irons watched through surveillance feeds as his troops engaged the enemy, their laser rifles cutting through the morning mist. The ground shook with the impact of heavy artillery, a relentless exchange that tested the resolve of every soldier under his command.
"Keep the pressure on! Push them back!" Irons shouted over the radio, his voice a beacon of command amidst the chaos. The troops responded with renewed vigor, their shouts and gunfire merging into the cacophony of battle.
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• We need to expose an internal, private API to external customers.
• We are beginning to transition to AWS, so it makes sense to start storing these user accounts within AWS ready for a more fully-fledged cloud product in the future.

We have three different api routes:

/metrics /delete /status 

• Some users can access all the routes, some users can only access /metrics and /status, some users can only access /status.
• Users would ideally be grouped into companies and roles, where there can be users of the same role in different companies.
• When a user hits API Gateway, their request should have additional properties attached that are used internally by our on-premise API to make decisions about their request.

​
My plan:

• Copy the API routes from the on-premise API into AWS API Gateway
• Authorise users using user pools within Cognito, using custom attributes to attach these additional properties my backend needs.
• Link my on-premise API to AWS using AWS Site-to-site VPN
• Now, AWS API Gateway can forward approved requests to our on-premise API without requiring our API to be exposed to the internet.

​
However, I have some questions about how to do this best:

• Would this use case (an authentication proxy) be best suited to AWS HTTP or AWS REST api?
• How would I configure the user access? (User pools that match companies with user groups per role? Or can I use policies to create the role permissions?)
• How does Cognito generate the JWT necessary if I go for a HTTP API?

I have already deployed a react site on render dot com and it's express.js backend on fly dot io, no complaints here. I just developed another small react site with a python/flask backend and there will be more, and here comes the question - what's the best site/service for deploying multiple small apps (especially the backend?) I can pay like $5 or so a month for that, but it needs to not have the "sleep when inactive" thing. It'd be a plus if I can deploy a docker container or use a dockerfile to build the app for ease of use.

SOFITEL LEGEND The Grand Amsterdam – 4rth Night Free Promo

Posted on May 14, 2024 by Andrew Larder

SOFITEL LEGEND The Grand Amsterdam

Sofitel Legend the Grand Amsterdam stands out amongst 5-star luxury hotels in Amsterdam. Located in the heart of this city of bikes and quaint canals, not far from the imposing ornate elegance of the Royal Palace, the Sofitel Legend boldly combines the best of 21st century comfort with the enchanting history of the Dutch capital. It is home to the acclaimed Bridges restaurant, cocktail bar and garden terrace, to an award-winning luxury hotel spa, to magnificent banqueting facilities including the Council Chamber where Queen Beatrix married. Loyal staff of this venerable Amsterdam institution pride themselves on reinventing Dutch hospitality à la Française.
Welcome at Sofitel Legend The Grand Amsterdam! Located between two historical canals in the heart of the city, The Grand boasts a rich history. From a 15th-century convent to royal lodgings to Dutch admiralty headquarters to the city hall of Amsterdam. The Grand offers five-star luxury in a unique ‘Amsterdam’ ambiance, furnished with French elegance and grandeur.
Experience exceptional gastronomic quality in the accessible atmosphere of restaurant Bridges and enjoy a delicious five-, six- or seven course Menu du Chef or discover the pure taste of the Mediterranean at Oriole Garden Bistro. The Garden Terrace can be found in the beautiful inner garden of The Grand and it is one of Amsterdam’s best kept secrets; an oasis of peace and tranquillity, situated in the heart of the city. Library ‘Or’ is the ideal place to indulge in The Grand Afternoon Tea. Are you a true whisky lover? Be surprised by the special Glenfiddich whiskies at our bar The Flying Dutchman.
The Grand boasts 19 meeting- and event facilities of which five are listed as historical monuments. Our Magnifique Meetings planners are dedicated to your event and will assist you down to the last detail to ensure an excellent service and a memorable experience.
The unwinding Sofitel SPA with heated indoor pool, sauna, hammam and fitness area is the perfect place to recharge after a busy day. Discover our wonderful spa menu and book your treatment until 21:00 hours.
Team The Grand would love to welcome you in the heart of Amsterdam and provide you with an unforgettable experience.

Promo

For the remainder of 2024 we run a 4th night free promo (on all room types) and remember that for any pre or post stay related to a Sea or River cruise from Amsterdam Cruise terminal we include a FREE transfer to or from the port.
This is an add amenity only available for the luxury agents.

SOFITEL LEGEND

We also have a short new corporate brand video of the 6 Sofitel Legend properties in the world which is also worth checking out:
At Sofitel Legend, we’re not merely hotels; we’re handpicked legends. Where service is an art, heritage buildings are our canvas, and local arts and culture are our inspiration.
Here, stories write themselves every day, and every corner exudes life, making each moment simply legendary.

SofitelFrenchZest #SofitelLegend

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It started when I was driving down a backroad and I see blue lights behind me. I immediately panic and gas it to over 100 mph, throwing shit out the window, rigs, a half Oz, scales, everything. The blue lights are gaining on me so I hit a dirt road, going insane speeds down this bumpy ass road, eventually, I realize I've rode the back tires off of the vehicle, so I jump out and hit the woods. I see the lights approaching and see flashlights coming into the woods, mind you it's pitch black and it's in a marshy, real rugged terrain, I'm running full speed doing flips and shot over hills and running into shot and the flash lights are coming up on me, and they're getting closer and closer and I am thinking fuck I am about to go to jail. They come up on me and everything goes black.
I wake up not knowing how long I've been laying there and I feel like I've been shot in the chest with a shotgun, I can't move my body and I think I'm dieing. I see a star in the sky that I was fixated pm, and I'm thinking that's where I want to be. Eventually it feels like I die, my body is making weird ticking noises and I feel like I just lose my body, I come out of my body and have these giant angel wings and I start flying up to the star, when I'm about halfway there my wings turned to bone and I fall back to the earth, then several times over, I grow angel wings again and fly away again, only to have the same thing happen again, it felt like I was being taunted that I could never make it to heaven. I eventually snap back to my body again, and wake up another unknown time later.
I managed to stand up, and in my mind I was on this earth all alone, like in some type of purgatory. My body is so weak I can barely move, but I managed to stand up. The bottom half of my vision is solid black and the top half I can see the tops of trees, I eventually see this figure, totally black and tall with a cowboy hat on. It's just standing about 5 foot away and laughing at me. I try to pick up a big stick that was near me but my body was too weak to swing it at it. Every time I took a step forward , it just took a step back and laughed.
There is a fuzzy period here, but fast forward about 2 days later of being completely out of my mind in these woods, I stumble upon and oilfield location that had a little trailer where the workers could stay and it had a jeep parked out front. The doors were unlocked and I went inside trying to get some water out of the faucet, I didn't notice the guy asleep on the couch. No water came out, so I went into this guy's jeep, thinking totally that it was mine, got a crowbar and a wrench and went to the water main and broke into it and turned the water on. I go back inside and start ravenous drinking water out of the faucet.
The guy wakes up and at first thinks I'm a worker. He asked me if I just got hired. I told him yeah and he asked what I drove there and I told him the jeep outside. He looked at me confused and then says that's his jeep. I argued with him and told him that's my friends jeep and I'm borrowing it. He realizes something is fucked up and eventually runs me off while having the phone to his ears, undoubtedly calling the cops.
Three more days go by and im completely out of my mind, everything is like the scariest thing you can imagine and i dont know whats real of fake. Im malnourished, dieing, and freaking the fuck out. eventually I think the cops are after me, and I remembered storing some dope in my boot like two years before, I had on big rubber duck hunting boots, and for some reason I feel like I need to cut the boots up into tiny pieces and bury it. I do this and then run for another day from imaginary police.
I come across this area of trees cut down and there is a guy like 500 yards away on the other side that I'm trying to sign language to that I need help. My tongue was so dry I couldn't yell. The guy wasn't even real and eventually waved at me and drove off. I find a few berries to eat to wet my tongue and eventually collapse in thick thorn bushes staring up at the sky with big sharp thorns in my back thinking, "this wouldn't be so bad of a place to die" I pass out and get up an unknown time later.
I finally found some sort of road and I decide to try to walk down it, but when I do, like 20 world War two bombers fly over and drop these little silver cubes, hundreds of them, these cubes hatch and there's all these miniature snipers in the woods aiming at me. I freak out and start running down this road, and in My mind I'm thinking "okay they're all trying to kill me and I'm unarmed, all I can do to make them think i have a gun is to take my sock off and put it on my hand like a pistol with my fingers" so I do this while running frantically down this road, crazy as a mother fucker.
I finally run across this house and I beat on the door like the police for like 30 seconds and eventually this 80 year old man answers, and sees this crazy fucking site, I'm shirtless, shoes less, with one sock on my hand with cuts and shit all over my body and face, eyes like saucers and looking like the wolf man or some shit. I look dead in this man's eyes and while waving my sock pistol around I tell him "look, if they told you I'm here to kill you, I'm not. I just want to use your phone. " he looks very confused and shut the screen door while calling the police.
I eventually figure fuck it this man isn't going to help me so I run off and break into his back yard. I find the faucet and turn it on and I'm up under it with my mouth open, drinking in water so desperately and fast that I'm throwing up while drinking it. A cop eventually walks up to me and asks me to come with him. He tells me he has water in the cooler in his ride and I can drink that. I am so out of my mind and thirsty and dieing that I didn't believe him and he had to pry me away from the faucet.
He was able to tell after talking to me that I was very much out of my mind and takes me to the hospital. They tell me I have a 78% chance of dieing that I had ketoacidosis and my kidneys were failing. I lived, and after 8 or 9 days of being in these woods with no food or water, out of my fucking mind, with delusions so bad I didn't know what was real or fake, I finally got released and then sent to a mental hospital for two weeks.
This was by far the worst and scariest experience of my life and I would not wish it on anyone. Stay woke friends, and never go into meth induced psychosis.

So pretty much the title. Please don't read any further if you haven't played that far.

I'm in my first play through and absolutely blown away by the game. And now this! I've finished "play it safe" and did "Search and Destroy". Woke up in the Sunset Motel and got visited by the Proxy. After that "Tapeworm" started and I talked to Johnny and continued.
But nothing else triggered. I know that " Nocturne Op55N1" should start. At first I thought I'd need to let more time pass. Now I've run out of all missions but "Beat the Brat" which doesn't seem to trigger too, even though I did all the fights. I'm lvl 50, street cred 50. The elevator at Embers is locked. I used a mod to fly up there, the Embers is empty.
Can anybody please give me advice on what to do? I even restarted "play it safe" to the same result.

Dear editor community,
I desperately need some recommendations to improve my workflow. I edit videos that utilize stock footage + .png images on top of stock + animations, which I do in After effects. (everything is sourced of stock sites in addition to text etc."
So my workflow is:

• Create a storyboard of what I want to animate and what I want to use stock footage for
• I download everything and put it into Premiere where it's supposed to be (making quicktime proxies), just still and no movement yet.
• The things I need animated I beem in after effects and render and replace after I'm done. Smaller things I use the transform effect in Premiere itself. Like images flying in etc.
• I nest all the sequences and do my "meta layer" work like zooming into details or adding a vignette and so on.

Now, this leaves me with so so so much nested sequences and then I have a hard time adding transitions on top of that. I'm even as far as contemplating just editing these 6 minute videos in After Effects altogether. Does anybody have some tips to improve my workflow?
Maybe I'm just being stupid and it's obvious but please, any advice is welcome.

Part 5
Gerard, God
Somewhere in time and space
He watched the passers-by as they moved about, following their daily routines, unaware of the fate that would shortly befall them. This was the time that fascinated Him the most. The moments before they finally understood that The Threat was here.
It was a sort of last hurrah, He thought. They didn't know it, but Gerard could nonetheless sense a sort of joi de vivre, a liveliness that simply didn't exist in prior times, and couldn't possibly exist in future ones. He watched mothers dote lovingly over their children, watched children hurl themselves into play with abandon, watched addicts take in their drugs like a drowning man would gulp for air. They might not known that there was no tomorrow for most of them, but they nonetheless seemed to put just a little bit of extra effort into everything.
Eventually, it came to an end, of course. It always did, no matter how many times He watched it. He saw happiness and mundanity give way to pain and suffering. Laughter was replaced by the screams of the dying. Life was replaced by death. The world replaced by destruction.
He sighed, leaving this timeline. He never watched the arrival of The Threat twice in the same timeline. There was nothing for Him to learn that way. His power was immense and total. He only had to witness The Threat once in each timeline to understand it.
Worst of all was the knowledge. The knowledge that He would only be able to save a single timeline. That all others would fall into ruin, destroyed and left to rot away. Only one could survive; the one that He chose. He could stop The Threat only once, for doing so would require Him to remain. Ever vigilant, ever ready to stop any recurrence.
He had to choose which timeline. That task was less than He feared, for now he knew that there were an infinite number of them. He could choose one with the right qualities, one whose nature would aid Him in His work. He realized then that He would, once He had chosen the proper timeline, finally watch The Threat come twice. Once, when He reviewed that timeline prior to choosing. And again, when He would stop it.
And stop it, He would. No other outcome was acceptable. He had already sacrificed too much. His mortality, His life, His happiness, His very soul itself. He had wrought Himself into a weapon, to strike down The Threat, and He would fulfill that purpose, no matter what.
----
Jerry Williams, Godslayer
Nibiru
We were sharks, swimming and darting among a school of fish. Gods and devas fled, screaming in terror as we flew through the swirling, chaotic energies that should have driven us -or at least my wife and daughter- mad within seconds. They had thought that their realm protected them.
Little did they know, we were already mad.
Inanna and I flanked a group of fleeing gods, preventing them from leaving this world, extending their essence into manifested bodies somewhere in one of the countless material worlds, or simply crossing the energy that was the core of their beings into the Spirit World. Here, in Nibiru, our divinities and demi-divinities gave us access to unlimited power. We seized it and wove nets with which to entrap those minor gods who could not find escape elsewhere, and had huddled here in fear of our coming.
As the group fled, we sped up, curving our course, which caused them to curve theirs, fearful of drawing too close to either of us. We moved slowly, carefully, angling them where we wanted them to go.
It wasn't long before the gaping maw of the Grandfather of the Gods came into view. Ixlublotl, the primordial god, the originator of divinity. The gods we herded realized their peril and turned to flee back the opposite direction, but there they found Aaina, burning towards them, screaming in rage and bristling with offensive energies.
Trapped, they had no choice. They attacked us. Emotions and thoughts, energy and matter, all of it flew at us in an orgy of sudden violence that churned the substrate of this world into a screaming chaos. All three of us linked our magics into a shield; a half-sphere of anti-magic that absorbed their attacks, sending the energy of which they were made back into into the swirling chaos around us.
They threw everything they had at us, a desperate last stand, driven by necessity and panic. All of it crashed against our defenses, the resulting streamers of magic filling the space around us with an all but impenetrable cloud. Hidden by that cloud, Ixy closed in.
By the time they realized that it was too late, it was over.
Ixy's physical body, that cloud-wrapped cacophony of maw-stalks, eye-stalks, spider-like legs and whipping tentacles, currently the size of a skyscraper, swept in, mouths snapping up the energies that were the cores of our quarry.
We came together when it was done. Inanna created a haven for us, allowing us to release the magic that held our bodies in stasis and protected us from the wild magic all around. It was a copy of our house, something she'd come up with a while back and shown to me with great pride. I had loved it, of course.
I sank into the loveseat with Inanna next to me as Aaina took the recliner.
"That's most of them," Aaina said.
"About thirty more," I replied. "And then we can start the next phase."
"Do either of you have any doubts about what we're doing?" she asked. I could see the indecision in her eyes. She was so young, and such a good girl. My heart broke at having dragged her into such dirty business.
"No," Inanna answered, her voice hard and confident.
"Yes," I added. "But at the end of the day, this is what needs doing."
Aaina looked back and forth between us, then nodded. None of us smiled.
----
Emily Windham, Wizard, Artificer
Fremont, Nebraska, at the corner of E 4th Ave and N Main St
Emily turned just in time to see the massive troll hit Jim Carmichael with a shoulder, sending the trooper flying before angling at her with no change in speed.
Acting on pure instinct, she conjured a wall of force between them. The troll slammed into it, shattering the magics that held it together with raw force, but the wall did its job, stopping the warrior in his tracks.
Emily snatched the rune-engraved knife off her belt and surged forward, jumping at the last second to put her in range of the troll's huge neck. The blade plunged in, and she released a quick burst of magic that made her legs and off hand sticky, allowing her to cling to the thing, too close for it to use its battleaxe on her.
She ripped the knife out and plunged it in again and again as the barbarian roared in pain and indignation at being hurt so badly by a foe so tiny. Emily grabbed his beard, yanking hard to bring his eyes to hers as she slammed the knife in and twisted, the magic in the blade telling her when it found his windpipe and carotid artery.
Blood sprayed, coating her face and shoulders. The troll's roars were cut off in a gurgling, breathy hiss. He stumbled, then fell. Emily rode him down, her eyes locked onto his, watching all hopes of victory, or even survival, fade from them. She lost herself in those eyes, in the mystery that was this troll's life, ending right before her. She saw the regrets, the crushed hopes, the shame of defeat and wondered at the context.
The impact as they hit the ground broke the spell.
Emily released the magic and stood up, instincts trained into her by the security troops and war wizards making her search for more threats before she could even process what had just happened. But there were no more threats. That had been the last one.
Greg Ramirez walked towards her, his rifle barrel pointed down, hanging from the sling in front of his armor and all the various attachments that he and the security troops referred to as their 'battle rattle'.
"Nice work," he said, eyeing the troll, who continued to gasp for air, the sound of his labored breaths reminding Emily of a pig squealing. She looked down, searching for that orgasmic feeling her bio-dad had so desperately wanted her to share with him, but not finding it. All she found was a sense of satisfaction, yet even that was too much.
Years of therapy, of telling her story to trained clinicians and listening to and internalizing their advice. All of it had helped her make friends and move among the normal people, but it had never erased that feeling of satisfaction. This was the fourth time she'd killed a sentient being, and each time, she felt the exact same way. It was a victory.
Her maudlin thoughts were interrupted by the bark of Greg's rifle. The troll's head jerked and deformed, a splattering of blood coming out as a .277 fury round drilled a hole straight through his temples. She glanced up to find Greg still eyeing her.
"You did good," he said, his expression showing some concern.
"I liked it," she said quietly, her eyes turning back.
"You liked killing him?" Greg asked. Emily nodded, wondering if she'd always be fucked up.
"I killed him," Greg said. "And I damn sure liked it."
Emily turned back, eyeing him with some interest. Greg was, in many ways, the opposite of her. Cool, confident, charming and just all-around well-adjusted. She hadn't ever imagined that he wound enjoy something like this.
"It means I won," he explained. "It means that big, badass motherfucker showed up here trying to bully us, and take whatever he wanted from us, and little old me stood up and said 'no', and when he tried to force the issue, I took his life away. It feels like justice. It feels like one less motherfucker trying to kill me and my friends. Damn straight I liked it."
Emily smiled. She didn't realized she had smiled until Greg smiled back.
"I read your psych eval," he went on. "I know you think you're fucked in the head, but I'm gonna tell you right now, you're not. You're a warrior, that's it. Bloodlust isn't a bad thing, if it can be controlled. Enjoying killing isn't a bad thing, if you're killing the people that need killing. Give yourself a break, girl."
He clapped her on the shoulder, then took the back of her head with his free hand and pressed her forehead to his.
"I'm gonna recommend you be allowed to join the war wizard roster. You're all trained up, you're prepared for it, and from what I've seen today, you're a fucking natural."
Without waiting for a response, he let her go and turned away, grabbing the radio fob on his armor and squeezing it.
"Black Lead, this is Black-Two Actual. All raiders at the target site are neutralized. We're commencing a sweep now, will report back in thirty mikes."
Emily smiled at his back as he walked away. A part of her reflected that he was a natural leader, knowing exactly what to say to her in that moment. Another part didn't care, because it worked. She glanced down at the troll again, and didn't see a victim.
She saw a victory.
----
Kathy Evenson, Professional
Somewhere in the ruins of an ancient city in the Seventh World
Kells shifted nervously as Kathy continued to cut chits from the electrical panel lid with the magical laser emerging from her fingertip. He held his machete, really a short sword, in one hand, and his dagger in the other.
"We really shouldn't be much longer, Kath," he said. Kathy had explained to him the difference between Kath and Kathy, and even hinted at the things she'd done while possessed by Pissface and calling herself 'Kath', and even gone into some detail about how much she hated the nickname. Kells hadn't cared. He simply agreed with her, then continued to call her 'Kath'.
And the truth was, she really didn't mind that much.
She wasn't quite sure why, though she could hazard a guess. The man was disarming to a great degree. He presented himself as a dirty wanderer, a simple, violent man who shouldn't be trusted as far as you could throw him. But within just a few minutes of meeting him, she'd seen the intelligence in his eyes and words. She had seen the integrity in his negotiations with her, and the ethics that had turned him protective when the Searchers had appeared.
And despite that protectiveness, he still managed to avoid being patronizing. When she'd told him how she planned to get his chits, he had warned her of the dangers, then agreed to come along without hesitation when she didn't change her mind. Kells was a good man, she thought, and if a good man wanted to call her Kath, she supposed she could let him reclaim the name from the hell it had once represented.
"It won't be much longer," she said. She already had over seven hundred, and this plate would bring her to eight hundred. She only needed five or six more. This deep in the ruins, there was an untouched electrical box on almost every building. Some had been corroded, but most were surprisingly intact.
As she cut the final strip into chits, a roar sounded. It was a gurgling, rasping roar, unlike anything she had ever heard before. Or rather, the first one had been unlike anything she had ever heard before. This was the third time she'd heard it, and it sounded closer than the last two.
"That's no good sign, right thur," Kells said.
Kathy finished, dumping the little squares of galvanized steel into her bag and standing up.
"Come on," she said. "We'll go a couple blocks away from whatever that was before I cut the next one."
"Aye," Kells agreed, his head swiveling on his shoulders as he followed her down the alley. Kathy took note of how spooked he was. He seemed more nervous here than he had with the Searchers right in front of him. She supposed that might have something to do with the nature of the threats. The Searchers were, regardless of power and reputation, mere humans. Whereas whatever was making that roar was clearly some sort of monster.
She led him six blocks in a direction away from the roar before she stopped to examine the buildings. They had moved into a downtown area, which was one of the reasons she had stopped. The buildings here were closer together, which should make the rest of her task quicker. She found a good cover and ripped the little padlock off, then pulled it open and off its hinges.
A mass of spiders rushed out of the electrical box. She jerked her hand away, but they ignored her, scurrying down the wall and vanishing into the cracks between the bricks, safe once again in enclosed darkness.
She began to cut as Kells again stood watch.
She hadn't even made it halfway through the panel when another roar sounded, even closer than the last, and from a different direction.
"Call it," Kells said. "Call it now, Kath. Better ye collect some more later on than deal with the beast makin' them sounds."
"What kind of beast?" Kathy asked. She kept cutting, but glanced up and around, not seeing anything but filthy, dilapidated alleys.
"Walkers, they call 'em," Kells said. "Like great spiders, but rottin' away, with bones stickin' out an' flesh hangin' off th'legs."
"Great spiders?" Kathy asked. "How big?"
"Bigger'n a building."
"You've seen them yourself?" Kathy asked.
"Only once," Kells said, his voice growing quieter. He seemed to be done speaking for a moment, staring around. But after a few seconds, he continued.
"Friend o'mine, name o' Gil. We used t'work together, he an' I. I were real new to runnin' a caravan crew back then, about ten years back. Gil were an old hand at it, though. Took me under 'is wing and taught me th'roads, as it were.
"Anyways, we'd taken a pair o' contracts. Rough ones, with a tight timetable. Merchants needed t'get to Freeman's Port post-haste. One faster'n th'other. Gil took that one, left me with the easier one, though that weren't t'say it were an easy job.
"We was in Craster's Holdfast at th'time, an smack in between there an' Freeman's Port were an ancient ruin. Big one, 'bout the size o' this'un, in fact. Normally, it took about a week t'travel between the two places, but if one were brave or foolhardy enough, they could cut through th'ruins an' make it in five days.
"Well, old Gil had that in mind. We left together, an' at th'place where ye normally would turn north t'go around the ruins, he led his caravan on straight. I prayed fer their safety that night, but never really believed anything would happen. Gil were an experienced caravaner, an' tougher'n anyone else I'd ever met.
"Two days later, we was walkin' this ridgeline north o'the ruins when somethin' called out t'me. Not sure what, exactly. I started lookin' south, scannin' the ruins, an' sure enough, I found Gil's caravan, walking down a wide road between th'largest buildings. They was movin' at quite a clip, I hav'ta say.
"I were tickled pink, at first. Because we'd made near as good a time as they had, despite movin' almost a day's north to skirt th'ruins. But as I watched, I realized that they weren't just travelin', they was runnin'."
Kells sighed, his eyes distant and full of old regrets.
"That's when I saw one. A great Walker, striding out o' th'deepest part o' th'ruins. The way it moved were like nothin' I ever seen before. It crawled along th'sides o' the ruins themselves, like a spider almost, but always with two or three feet on th'ground.
"It came fer th'caravan, and fell on 'em in a slaughter. I watched it breathe fire down on 'em, stompin' men flat with its feet an' scooping 'em up with its great claws."
He sighed again, then looked down. He tucked his sword under his armpit and used his hand to rub his eyes for a moment, before taking the blade up again.
"Killed 'em all, it did. Erry single one, as I live an' breath. An' when it were done, it went around, stompin' th'bodies flat. Never ate one, jes did all it could t'make sure that not a single survivor lived t'tell the tale. I were shook something fierce, I tell ya. Took me own caravan down off the ridge, t'avoid bein' spotted. We ended up arriving a day late, but to this day, I thank me lucky stars we made it at all."
Another sigh came, and Kathy heard the cracks in his voice as he continued on.
"Not Gil, though. Nor any o'them what worked for him, or th'merchant what hired him. A few years later, I worked up th'courage t'take a couple o'men into the ruins, t'find the bodies. I found bones dressed in Gil's clothes. I took his sword, which had survived, an' is th'one I carry to this day. I think Gil'd be pleased to know his blade had saved me life, quite a few times since."
Kathy finished cutting the cover up and stood to put her hands on Kells' shoulder.
"Thank you for telling me that," she said, her voice gentle. "I can tell it's an important story to you."
Kells nodded and sniffed once, then jerked his head in the direction away from the most recent roar. "I still think we should get out o' here, Kath," he said. "I'll face down the Searchers an' be happy o' a good death, should they take me. But them Walkers... They ain't warriors ye can face an' die with honor. One o'them things finds us, there ain't no fightin' it. We jes' die screaming, th'only consolation coming when it's all over."
Kathy weighed his words carefully. Kells knew this world far better than she did. And while she knew her own abilities far better than anyone here, she had to be mindful not to be too arrogant. Kells had told her how a single Walker had slaughtered an entire caravan of experienced fighters, led by an experienced leader.
"Okay," she said. She handed the bag to Kells. "There should be about eight hundred and fifty chits in there. You can count them out later, and I'll trust your count. After I find what I'm looking for, I'll collect the rest and we'll settle up."
"Good call," Kells said. He tied the bag off to his belt and walked to the corner of the building, peeking around. When he was satisfied, he nodded. Kathy joined him, and together, they made a beeline to the edge of the ruins.
They had made it about halfway out when another roar sounded, this one right on top of them. A rumbling crash sounded from her right, and Kathy turned to see rubble falling to the ground as something massive rose off the ground, two blocks over.
"Stars an' stones," Kells swore, then shouted "Run!"

Hi,
I need some advice planning an itinerary for my trip to Spain this fall. It's going to be more of a leisure trip with some plans of seeing popular sites.
I will be there from September 20th (arrival at evening) to October 3rd (departing in afternoon). We fly in and out of Barcelona.
We really want to go to Madrid, Sevilla, Valencia, and Mallorca. Anyone know how many days we should spend in each place and which route we should do? Is there any place we should take off to include another city? I currently have Barcelona for 3 days, Madrid for 3, Seville and Valencia for 2 days each, and Mallorca for 2.
Thanks in advance :)

Edit: If you are going to comment on the length of this post, please don't. This is not a simple snark but rather an actual critical think piece about feminism and Taylor Swift.

Introduction

Pertaining to Taylor Swift, "Female Rage" has deviated from its intended meaning after Swift debuted a new performance of The Tortured Poets Department during the Eras Tour. Now, according to Swift's use of the phrase, female rage is interpreted as public backlash against Swift's dating choices rather than as a response to the broader injustices against women and women's rights. This post examines Taylor Swift's flawed feminism, philanthropy, branding, and the controversial trademark petition for the phrase "Female Rage: The Musical". Swift's background as an entertainer, indeterminate politics, and alignment with capitalism over feminism pervades her legacy, again threatening her public tolerance as not just an individual but as a brand.

Once Upon a Female Rage...

If you were cognizant in the early 2010's, you've heard countless jabs at Taylor Swift in the media. Magazines, radio, or online. Music critics did not take her seriously as a songwriter; parents put a woman on an unrealistic pedestal as the ideal role model for their children; she dated too much and used men as lyrical fodder. No matter the story, it inevitably spread, conjoined with everyone's respective opinions, and you'd be left to wonder, "Why does everyone hate this girl so much?"
Taylor's target demographic has always been young or adolescent girls, more so when Swift herself was one. She made music that spoke to the awkward misfit, cultivating a para-social relationship with fans on MySpace, then later twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, where Taylor posted relatable vlogs showcasing the life of a homegrown American girl. Taylor had a delayed public "growing up" and, compared to her female pop contemporaries, Swift never "gratuitously sexualized her image and seems pathologically averse to controversy" (and, apparently, never even had a sip of alcohol until she turned 21). She was more than happy to spin this narrative to allude to an inherent moral superiority above other women in the industry (Better Than Revenge, heard of it?), engaging in the very slut-shaming that she herself endured (the Madonna and Whore archetypes). The victim complex arose with the need to prove Taylor as a different type of pop girl. Based upon her holy and clean image, Swift had been dubbed "a feminist's nightmare", and that "[To Swift] other girls are obstacles; undeserving enemies who steal Taylor’s soulmates with their bewitching good looks and sexual availability." Feminism and Tennessee-Christian country values don't exactly mix, it seems.
Years later, Swift befriended Lena Dunham and thus experienced white feminism osmosis, where Dunham taught Swift that real feminists defend rapists, makes insensitive jokes about rape and abortion, and prioritize all-white casts. Swift then declared herself a feminist in 2014, saying,

"Becoming friends with Lena – without her preaching to me, but just seeing why she believes what she believes, why she says what she says, why she stands for what she stands for – has made me realize that I’ve been taking a feminist stance without actually saying so."

I suppose the male-centric songwriting subject that permeates Swift's discography contained covert feminism and that we just didn't see that. Perhaps, the "Bad Blood" song and music video were written only in jest and not about poor Katy Perry, for Swift, as a feminist, would "never make it a girl fight" or tear other women down (though all Katy did was date your terrible ex-boyfriend and allegedly steal three backup dancers from your tour). In 2013, Swift said, in response to Tina Fey and Amy Poehler's joke towards her serial dating, "There is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women."
There was that time in 2015 Taylor said that Nicki Minaj was "invited to any stage [she is] on" (as if Taylor expects to have access to every stage, award, and platform that Nicki might not otherwise have as a black female artist...yikes!) in response to Nicki's criticism of the white + thin VMA nominations. Later, Nicki responded with confusion, as Swift continued, "It’s unlike you to pit women against each other. Maybe one of the men took your slot..". Of course, this 'beef' was 'squashed' when Nicki performed with Taylor at the VMAs, with Nicki quite literally only having 38 seconds of stage time without Taylor. Maybe all that parading around with a legion of famous white women - similar to the way Taylor might've done with her numerous 1989-era handbags - was in fact a stance against gender inequality, and that this display of "girl power" should be enough to constitute Swift as a feminist icon.
Even while Swift says that Dunham informed her feminist outlook, she dances around the exact contents of those beliefs: "what she believes, what she says, what she stands for" is not exactly insightful towards what beliefs Swift might have inherited. Taylor never broaches women's rights topics such femicide, FGM, forced pregnancy & marriage, sex trafficking, women in slavery, women's financial and political oppression, women's educational rights, women's health, or women's autonomy, so we can assume she only gives a fuck about "girls supporting girls" (whatever that fucking means).
Despite some questionable (and sometimes vindictive) behavior, Taylor as a young woman did not deserve every media lashing that she received. We cannot deny that most headlines and criticisms perpetuated a misogynistic rhetoric which has plagued Swift for a majority of her career. Acknowledging events such as the development of her ED, her sexual assault trial, "Famous" lyric and MV depiction of Taylor, and the explicit Twitter deepfakes, for example, as both disgusting and unfortunate things that happened to a young woman in Hollywood does not negate the fact that Taylor is mostly a performative feminist.

Get Your Fucking Ass Up and Be a Philanthropist, It Seems Like Nobody Wants to Be a Philanthropist These Days

In 2013, Taylor Swift cut the ribbon at the grand opening of the Taylor Swift Education Center at the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville, Tennessee. The donation amount - $4 million - was the largest individual artist gift ever donated to the Country Music Hall of Fame, which is, of course, mentioned on Swift's website. The two-story facility features three classrooms, an instrument room, and an interactive children's exhibit gallery. Swift also performed at "All for the Hall" charity shows and has donated numerous artifacts from her career (such as notable guitars, tour costumes, etc) to the museum.
This was over 11 years ago, and it is still the only notable philanthropic contribution Taylor Swift has made.
For a woman of her net worth and stature, and a woman who recognizes the difficulties for women in film and music, you would think that Taylor Swift might establish a scholarship program for women to study the arts or something. Perhaps Swift might even consider becoming a member of organizations that support female artists, or one that supports LGBTQ+ causes (since she is now proudly an ally), yet she remains superficial with her graces. Broader philanthropy, such as donating relief aid to Palestinian women or women impacted by violence and discrimination will probably never receive any financial support from Miss Swift because then she'd be using her money towards philanthropies involving anyone but white entertainers.
She even says herself in Miss Americana, "My entire moral code as a kid and now is a need to be thought of as 'good'." Well, she's certainly thought of as good, though her actions say otherwise. She's more than happy to do a vaguely altruistic song and dance for a clip-worthy interview quote and mass appeasement, then fuck off to one of her mansions on a 20 minute private jet flight, rather than actually contribute to anything pertaining to the causes she has endorsed. Yet, far too many people continue to give a woman such as her their money, time, and energy, and she hoards these resources to herself.

I Like Some of the Taylor's Songs, But What the Fuck Does She Know About Feminism?

Swift continued with her self-proclaimed feminist campaign, positioning herself as a political activist and LGBTQ+ ally in the Miss Americana documentary. The primary focus of the documentary consists of the sexual assault trial, Andrea Swift's cancer diagnosis, Taylor's ED and body dysmorphia, media scrutiny, and, largely, finally speaking up about her politics publicly, mostly her opposition to the 2018 Tennessee Republican senate candidate, Marsha Blackburn, and Blackburn's beliefs. Swift says, following a scene discussing her experience during the trial,

"I just couldn't really stop thinking about it. And I just thought to myself, next time there is any opportunity to change anything, you had better know what you stand for and what you want to say."

We must ask ourselves, though: when has Swift ever spoken up to change anything? Okay, pulling her entire catalogue from Spotify because they didn't pay their artists enough and similarly pulling her catalogue from Apple Music are changes that she leveraged due to her revenue potential and power, but they are not pertinent to the average woman's rights. Moreover, these are issues that directly impacted Taylor's income, which was enough reason for her to protest in the first place. Swift has sold the most units for a female artist in first week sales, is the first female artist with 100k monthly Spotify listeners, is the first female artist to win the Album of the Year Grammy 4 times, and is the first female artist to do X, Y, and Z, all while being inoffensive and family-friendly to boot. The actual Taylor Swift seems unwilling to compromise the brand of Taylor Swift by contributing in meaningful ways to feminist causes, especially if it is for women outside of America and Hollywood.
The reason political anthems such as "The Man" and "Only the Young" of the Lover era feel disingenuous and corporate is because, well, it is. Taylor has taken every opportunity to advance her career or public image at the expense of other women. What is truly genuine to Taylor's outlook on other women is vying for male attention, taking down female competition, and vocalizing feminist injustices only if they directly impact her and her money. Some will argue that it's satisfactory for a woman with such a huge platform to even TALK about feminism, but that just isn't enough. It's even less impressive when you candidly look at the scope of her feminist lens: "If I was the man, then I'd be THE MAN", or "I really resent the ‘Be careful, buddy, she’s going to write a song about you’ angle, because it trivialises what I do", and, of course, "We all got crowns". Feminism, but only when it happens to me. It gets worse when you look at Taylor's track record of copying other famous women and removing other female artists as potential threats to her pop prowess.
It's good for PR to align yourself with certain blanket feminist and political beliefs, therefore good for branding, therefore good for ticketing and merchandise sales, therefore good for business. And Taylor Swift is a business.
She's not a feminist. Taylor Swift is a capitalist.

I Can't Pay Those Sweatshop Workers a Livable Wage or Benefits! How Else Would I Make My Billions?

Recently, Taylor's team filed to trademark the phrase "Female Rage: The Musical" after Taylor said during Paris N1 of the Eras Tour,

"So you were the first ones to see The Tortured Poets at the Eras Tour...or as I like to call it, 'Female Rage: The Musical'."

This trademark petition was filed last week on Saturday, and news comes about just as numerous unofficial fan-made merch designs have cropped up with this phrase plastered on Fruit of the Loom basics. I'm of the opinion Swift's team motioned for a trademark so that they can send out cease & desists to all those that make knockoff merch, which disrupts potential sales for Bravado, UMG's choice merchandising company; however, since it was filed earlier, perhaps Swift has bigger plans with the bizarre use of the gendered phrase. One Swiftie referred to the phrase "female rage" as "a funny Eras Tour joke". Could it be a possible fourth version of the Eras Tour Movie? Whatever the reason, the motion to capitalize off of such a concept is disgusting, but not unsurprising, for a woman that profits on her vain feminism.
Swift, through her company, TAS Rights Managements, has also trademarked over 200 phrases, including "1989", where she owns the property rights to this calendar year on keychains, phone cases, sunglasses, stationary, bags, beverage ware, clothing, entertainment services, your subconscious, and, of course, Christmas ornaments.
The vapid consumerism in Swiftie culture is, frankly, disgusting. Bravado's sustainability statement is non-existent, the quality control is abysmal, and the materials they use are horrible. The materials, such as acrylic and polyester, are made from petrochemicals. This means they are non-renewable, shed microplastics, and are quite toxic in production. The manufacturing process to make all of those lazy-rushed Eras Tour logo graphic tees is a huge blow to environmental well-being. Apparently, though, Swifties don't give a fuck. They sell out products in seconds and either have to face the manufactured scarcity or buy from a scalper that resells for 200% of the already ridiculous retail price. This doesn't include the environmental impact of vinyl records, CD, and cassette production, of which Taylor produces many variants that sell unsustainable amounts.
If we're talking about women's rights violations, why is no one acknowledging the women that work in the inhumane sweatshop conditions that have to pump out fugly t-shirts and hats? The millions of plastic microfiber dander they are inhaling, or the toxic dyes that touch their bare skin? Are they being compensated fairly for their skilled labour and are they in safe working environments? Do these women have minimal bargaining power, and do they have authority over their worker's rights? Is Taylor Swift female raging at their injustices? Does Taylor Swift ever feels bad that her wealth was built on the backs of women of color, disadvantaged by the demands of the global economy and garment industry? Do you think she ever says a little white feminist prayer for them before she goes to sleep at night?
What's even crazier is not that Taylor herself doesn't care, it's that Swifties don't care. There CANNOT BE ethical billionaires. You only make a billion dollars if you are exploiting other human beings for capital gain. Based on public perception of the possible "Female Rage: The Musical" trademark, it seems like Swifties are already asking for merch with this phrase. "If Taylor made it, I'd buy it." Oh, cool. So not only do you champion Miss Swift's avarice and billionaire status, but you also are unashamed to admit to your blind consumption of her music and merchandise, no matter where they might originate in production or sincerity. Just as Swift takes and takes and takes, Swifties' consumerism of Taylor Swift cannot be quelled.
The tortured artist's most vulnerable and sincere poetry...available now in 21 different versions!

I Am Tortured Poet, Hear Me Whinge

Look - even if Taylor's intention is to characterize TTPD as more "tortured" and "angry", the main thread of the album is "I was ghosted by my decade-long situationship with a controversial indie boy and my fucking stupid fans wrote a 'Speak Up Now' open letter prompting me to drop him" anger, which is adequately expressed in the lyrics and performances. The extent of Taylor's "female rage" on TTPD is on tracks such as "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?", which contends with relentless media scrutiny; "But Daddy I Love Him", where Swift firmly states she'll date whoever she likes no matter how "Sarahs and Hannahs" may react; and "The Albatross", a track mythologizing her reputation and the consequences of dating her. Of course, these coincide with deep psychological wounds that formed during Swift's early years in the media, and so, from her feminist perspective, these subjects tackle the misogyny and double standards that she faced.
Yet Taylor Swift still has no grounds to be claiming that TTPD best exemplifies female rage and therefore she, in the context of this album, is female rage incarnate. As the daughter of a stock broker and mutual fund marketing executive, Taylor was born into wealth and allowed privileges like trips and subsequent relocation to Nashville all so that she might get a record deal. Her father even invested at least $120,000 into the then-fledgling label, Big Machine Records, which ensured Taylor's place with Borchetta after leaving her dead-end development deal with Sony. The fact that her parents were able to buy her a fucking brand new guitar for Christmas and pay for music lessons says so much about the financial security and safety of her childhood.
Money is privilege and protection, and despite Swift's experiences with misogyny and loser boyfriends, she does not know what female rage is.
Her rage is derived from her frustrations with her obsessive fans pulling the moral superiority card on Taylor in response to her rebound with Matty Healy. That's literally it. She's just pissed that the monster she created is no longer obediant, it's become a feral, sovereign entity that depletes the world of its natural resources and thinks it is more intelligent than it actually is because it's mommy has started to talk to it with big words. Apparently, 'illicit', 'elegy', 'nonchalant', and 'precocious' are considerably big words for the oafish monster, and I find it strange that this level of literacy is present in a group of fans that allegedly have GPAs of 3.5 or higher, but I digress.
Taylor Swift has never been one paycheck away from destitution. Taylor Swift has never experienced racial discrimination. She may have instances of gender discrimination, but she possesses the ideal white, blonde American beauty standard and therefore reaps the benefits of being a conventionally attractive woman. Taylor Swift has sufficient social capital. Taylor Swift is a billionaire woman prolonging her victimhood though she, as a woman, has mostly had control over her image and music (unlike her contemporaries). Taylor Swift is NOT entitled to be championed for her "female rage", nor should she be. Taylor Swift has never even been the struggling artist, for fuck's sake. I don't give a fuck if she's trying to fill the empty lunch tables of her past. Taylor Swift purporting herself, her unpolished album, and her lukewarm feminism as a musical bleeding with female rage is asinine.

Sigh Try and Come For My Job, Poors

Out there in the world right now is a 23-year-old woman, a recent college grad, who works as a barista. She has to wake up and get ready to go into a minimum wage job because she cannot get a job in her field. She doesn't have healthcare benefits or sick time, so she has to go into work no matter how she's feeling. All day long she is berated by vicious customers and creepy men, and, exhausted from being on her feet, she knows she has to go home to her shitty roommate that never does the dishes and her roommate's shitty dog. To comfort herself, she considers getting a treat, but thinks against it when she remembers that matcha lattes cost $15 and they taste like milky dirt. She knows that she needs to buy groceries this week, and so the woman resolves to go home, but notices that her gas tank is low. She goes to put gas in the car, but the pump stops at $27.86 because that's all that she has in her checking account. The woman, bereft and reeling, sinks into the driver's seat. "Well," she thinks, her head in her hands, "at least I don't have Taylor Swift's job. I just couldn't imagine."
Fame is somewhat of a choice. If at any moment Taylor feels that she is misunderstood, misconstrued, or overwhelmed by public opinion, she can LEAVE the public eye - Lord knows she has the retirement fund and residuals to do so. In "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart", the TTPD song about meeting the demands of your career-zenith mega-tour while in the relationship trenches, Taylor ends the song by rambling,

"You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart...you know you're good...and I'm good, cause I'm miserable, and no one even knows!...try and come for my job."

Yeah, obviously we wouldn't know, you recently passed the billionaire threshold and are the most famous and in-demand performer in the world right now. Taylor Swift makes an estimated $10 to $13 million dollars A NIGHT on the Eras Tour. Furthermore, the Eras Tour movie grossed $261.6 million globally, (which, as the producer, Taylor takes home 57% of the ticket sales) not counting the streaming revenue from Amazon Prime Video and the estimated $75 million deal that Disney paid to have it on Disney+. We're not even considering the income from cheap plastic popcorn buckets and drink cups plastered with colored squares in her Era-specific likeness.
It's funny. Taylor Swift often said that being famous wasn't hard, that she "isn't complaining". I'm sure it is difficult to always have to present in a good mood, else you'll end up misrepresented in the media, and I'm sure it's invasive to virtually have no privacy or semblance of anonymity. Still, Taylor Swift shows up each night of tour and performs. For a majority of her career, she has penned her sad songs while on the road. Most of "Red", her breakup album, was written in the thick of the Speak Now World tour. Now, some Swifties say they almost "feel bad" for attending the Eras Tour with Swift's revelations in this song, that they have had a 'dimmed experience' upon hearing Taylor's misery whilst performing. Despite the fact that Taylor said that "this was the happiest she's ever been" at Gilette Stadium in May, the lyrics "boohoo, woe is me, smile for the cameras and make the fans happy!!!" are jarring for Eras attendees.
While Taylor Swift was making double-digit millions a night in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and feeling miserable, Ana Clara Benevides Machado passed away due to heat exposure. The concert promoters, Time For Fun, are now the subject of a criminal investigation due to their lack of adequate hydration and safety. Taylor Swift cancelled the Sunday show that was to follow and offered VIP tent tickets to Benevides Marchado's family, which was a kind gesture, but perhaps incongruous to the incident of which they were offered as consolation. Everyone grieves differently, of course, but I'm not sure attending the very show at the very same venue that my daughter or sister passed away in two days prior, where the singer CONTINUED the show despite her death, would be healthy for closure.
There was no female rage at the show as Swift never saw Benevides Machado pass out. There was no female rage towards the disregard for fans as humans while Swift elected to proceed with her Brazil tour dates despite the country being in historic heatwaves (at risk of overheatting herself). If Taylor Swift was so shaken by touring with a broken heart or a fan's passing, she wouldn't have added an additional North American leg of Eras just two months after the Matty breakup. She's brokenhearted but willing to mend the cracks with your money and move onward with her worldwide female rage induced pillaging.
No matter what happens, even if you die at a Taylor Swift concert, Taylor collects a big fat check and flies away. She doesn't know you as anything other than a conversion rate or earning potential despite what her nearly 20-year long parasocial relationship with fans might otherwise indicate. She knows that, while some Swifties are without disposable income, they feel obligated to spend on a "48 Hours Only!" exclusive vinyl variant instead of necessities because they are so entrenched in Taylor Swift's intoxicating celebrity, they'll prioritize materialistic fandom before their needs. This is good enough for her because this means she can expand her real estate portfolio and finance her cat's lavish lifestyles. They're worth an estimated $100 million dollars. Her three cats could pool their net worth and solve world hunger.
While you and I might be denied bereavement leave and barely surviving the current political and economic climate, Taylor Swift has to, instead of gets to, perform for stadiums at full attendance for three nights in a row across the globe. You and I might be replaced by AI at our longtime jobs, but Taylor Swift is threatened with losing more and more money each time you listen to a "Stolen Version" of her songs. If we don't buy every variant of all of her albums, then who is going to pay for the fucking cats?
It is tone deaf to spend as she spends and lives as she lives in this economy, but this is her reality. She was able to donate $100,000 to all of her tour truck drivers, and that's wonderful, but it leads me to wonder about the ethos of the 2020s where one woman can hoard such life-changing amounts of money. Remember in 2014 when she gave a fan $90 ($120 in today's money) to get Chipotle because she had no fucking clue how much it cost? This is a 34-year-old woman who is increasingly out of touch with the reality for working class people and women in general. Normal everyday adults must wake up and go to their thankless jobs, and yet Taylor Swift, despite all her riches, incessantly references the lows of her life and career as a public figure and entertainer to farm sympathy and drive sales. And still, the corporate women have latched onto "I cry a lot, but I am so productive! It's an art!" as their cubicle battle cry.
Do you think that, from up in her private jet, Taylor Swift gazes at the world through her poetic, tortured eyes, and thinks, "All the little people, in their cars, walking, going about their lives...all those girls that don't support girls...do they know that I've made an album about female rage?"

Conclusion/TLDR

Thank you for reading. I would love to hear your critical insights towards this entire ordeal: TTPD, the trademark, the implications of it all.
TLDR: Taylor Swift is a bad feminist and is delusional to think that the TTPD eras set exemplifies female rage at women's injustice.

Hello Everyone!

I've been working on something that could potentially be interesting to the community, and would love your genuine feedbacks.

I've been talking with some of my friends working as traders in the space, particularly those focused on paper trading, who have shared fascinating insights into the lengths they go to gain an informational edge. Many are spending significant sums to establish direct access to key sites around the world, aiming to be the first to know about supply chain disruptions, inventory fluctuations, and other events that could move markets.
Interestingly, this real-time, on-the-ground intel often spreads first in private chats among exclusive networks of traders before hitting mainstream news channels. This allows those with access to act quickly on the information asymmetry.
I'm developing a crowdsourcing platform (using blockchains as payment rails) that aims to revolutionize this dynamic by connecting data providers ("Agents") directly with data consumers, enabling the efficient exchange of unique, actionable information that can inform trading strategies and risk management. The platform would feature verification mechanisms for data integrity, bonding curve pricing to reflect data value, and tokenized incentives for participation.
Key features of the platform include:

1. Agents can create private data channels and set a bonding curve pricing model, where the price of access increases as more subscribers join. This acts as a proxy for the credibility and value of the Agent's information. (A Bonding Curve would look something like this: 1*72qA4WIL6LvWUnX6tmfviQ.png (640×480) (medium.com) where supply is the current number of subscribers.)
2. Various verification mechanisms are in place for Agents, such as location tracking, email confirmation, daily check-ins, and sensor connections to ensure data integrity and reliability.
3. Data consumers do not directly pay Agents, but rather interact with a smart contract that automatically handles payments and access control based on predefined rules.
4. The platform includes a real-time chat feature for direct communication between Agents and subscribers, enabling more contextual and timely information sharing.

To all the community members, I'm seeking your valuable feedback on two key aspects:

1. What kind of alternative data or market insights would you find most valuable and are currently not easily accessible to you? This could include data on supply chain flows, inventory levels, weather patterns, satellite imagery analysis, or any other information that could give you an edge in your trading decisions. I am aware alternative data industry is already a huge industry, but would there be valuable sources of data that are only accessible through last-mile, real-time data updates? (For example in these two posts on oil and coffee's influence from weather, would access to these information through a verified source provide you with information edge?)
2. What do you foresee as potential drawbacks, risks, or pitfalls of such a platform? Are there any specific concerns around data quality, privacy, security, or regulatory compliance that we should be mindful of? Any thoughts on how to mitigate these risks and build trust in the platform?

Your input would be greatly appreciated as we shape the development of this crowdsourced data exchange platform. The goal is to create a mutually beneficial ecosystem that empowers commodity traders with timely, actionable insights while rewarding data providers for their valuable contributions.
Thank you in advance for your time and insights. I look forward to a fruitful discussion and learning from your experiences in the commodities trading space.
Best regards, OnlyGold

Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".

EDIT: Case of being too "smart" for my own good. Details below.
I've had a seriously weird DNS bug for the last few months. I run a homelab with a variety of services and local DNS (dnsmasq) to provide internal addressing. This has worked great - except that macOS keeps losing one DNS entry. In other words, the site will load, work fine for a bit, and between one page click and the next the DNS entry will drop out of the Mac's local DNS resolver cache and Safari/Chrome/etc won't be able to connect. Ping to the DNS name also fails. Flushing the local cache and restarting mDNSResponder fixes it for a while, where a while could be seconds or minutes - but typically not more.
All of the below are local DNS names being resolved from the same local DNS server, so there are absolutely no configuration differences between these names (as you can see, they even resolve to the same host which is using a reverse proxy to send requests to the proper container).
Working domain:

sudo dns-sd -Q wiki.REDACTED Password: DATE: ---Tue 14 May 2024--- 10:15:35.555 ...STARTING... Timestamp A/R Flags IF Name Type Class Rdata 10:15:35.558 Add 2 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:15:49.708 Rmv 0 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:15:49.720 Add 2 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:16:50.849 Rmv 0 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:16:50.855 Add 2 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:52:28.893 Rmv 0 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:52:28.909 Add 2 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:27.633 Rmv 0 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:27.643 Add 2 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:32.106 Rmv 0 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:32.118 Add 2 0 wiki.REDACTED. Addr IN 10.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.150 

Flapping domain:

sudo dns-sd -Q manga.REDACTED Password: DATE: ---Tue 14 May 2024--- 10:15:26.980 ...STARTING... Timestamp A/R Flags IF Name Type Class Rdata 10:15:26.980 Add 40000002 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:15:49.720 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:16:02.047 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:16:03.540 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:16:50.855 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:17:03.282 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:17:04.952 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:17:04.955 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:52:28.908 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:52:41.260 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:52:42.961 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:52:42.963 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:20.051 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:27.633 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:27.643 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:59:32.118 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:44.436 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:59:45.985 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:45.987 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:58.532 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 10:59:59.901 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 10:59:59.903 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 11:22:54.263 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 11:23:06.658 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 11:23:08.337 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 11:23:08.341 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 11:23:45.637 Add 2 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN No Such Record 11:23:47.173 Rmv 0 0 manga.REDACTED. Addr IN 0.0.0.010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.15010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.15010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.15010.0.1.15010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.15010.0.1.1500.0.0.010.0.1.150 

The temporary fix:

sudo dscacheutil -flushcache; sudo killall -HUP mDNSResponder 

This beats the hell out of me, as I cannot fathom why one entry works perfectly and another does not. I even changed that hostname and the weirdness followed the host, which makes even less sense.
Anyone have any clue where to go with this goofiness? I find macOS nigh impossible to troubleshoot ever since Unified Logging and the proliferation of "private" data making even those logs useless.

The IFH (FAA-H-8083-15B) on page 7-14 says the following about Entries into straight-and-level climbs:

Entry To enter a constant-airspeed climb from cruising airspeed, raise the miniature aircraft to the approximate nose-high indication for the predetermined climb speed. The attitude varies according to the type of airplane. Apply light backelevator pressure to initiate and maintain the climb attitude. The pressures vary as the airplane decelerates. [...] If the transition from level flight to climb is smooth, the VSI shows an immediate trend upward, continues to move slowly, and then stops at a rate appropriate to the stabilized airspeed and attitude. (Primary and supporting instruments for the climb entry are shown in Figure 7-25.)

If you look at Figure 7-25, the PRIMARY instrument for bank is the DG, not the AI. The AI is marked as supporting instrument.
I'm sorry I can't wrap my mind around it.
Why is the DG the primary bank instrument rather than the AI? The AI's direct indication is bank. It's right there. It's got to tell you that you are level. Yes, you can also check on the DG that you are not turning, but that seems an indirect indication, which would make the instrument a supporting one.
Sorry I never got to master this topic, as when I took my IRA, the question banks had just been revised to remove questions on primary vs. supporting instruments in attitude flying, so I just chose to skip this topic.
I got my IR and at no point my CFII ever mentioned this method.
I fly IFR in IMC pretty regularly, and my personal impression is that this method is more an impediment and a distraction from the instrument scan than something actually useful.
The way the IFH goes about it also seems dogmatic and sometimes imperscrutable - but that's just an impression, and I'm happy to be corrected by a CFII.
My asking is not academic, as a question on this topic is still in the AGI question bank.