(TLDR at bottom) I believe that many designers may have unique design methods; some even have a medium or game piece of preference when designing a game from scratch.
For example, I am currently obsessing over the simple and elegant design of 18 card wallet games with possible expansions containing variable ammount of cards (most commonly or well know publisher Button Shy)
Out of all the things that could possibly pop into my mind first, surprisingly to me, it wasnt the game goal as i was lead to believe by different media. Which begs the question, How commonly is a game goal the first aspect to be designed/tinkered/thought of?
My jurney lead me firstly to card movement. In my mind i saw blank cards moving around in different zones, including the hand, and i analized which movements and interactions made me feel just right, like building a game skeleton.
Then i gave myself the task of finding an optimal way to ensure those movements were meaningful in some way or another and made sense for example the shape of the card grid to make a board to move on. Those two steps then worked in union to tweak and adjust the tempo and feel of the game.
After i was satisfied with the results, came the theme tinkering, and card layout design which kept in mind the way the cards moved even in tapped (sideways) orientations
At least came the task of making up a goal(s) for a solo and 2 players, the decisions then influence minor or major aspects of the previous step that can be repeated until satisfied.
TL;DR I find my process of saving the goal design last, Somewhat Satisfying yet Weird as i can't relate to other popular designers and pro tips i found online so far. I am deeply curious if there are any who went through a similar phase? If not, how does your process differ and what tips would you give me to change my methods if they need changing in the first place?

For some context: I really like flowers, all kinds of them. But if I go to the basic form, I've found that flowers with a number of petals that's a multiple of three (3, 6, 9) are more visually pleasant to me than petals in multiples of 2 (2, 4, 8).
Then there are the five petal flowers which for me are somewhere between the other two types.
This made me remember a painter friend who told me when painting people on a scene, there must be always an odd number of them.
Is there any reason for this? Am I the only one?
Here's a diagram for example (ignore the text, I couldn't find a blank one)
https://www.shutterstock.com/shutterstock/photos/1523539184/display_1500/stock-vector-business-infographics-flower-pie-charts-with-steps-options-petals-vector-1523539184.jpg

Mainly I'm looking for ideas from books or other sources, though I don't think that combat-magic would fit with my setting.
The plot so far is that two young men are wandering around, learning about the world, and maybe there's a purpose to it that MC doesn't know about. My current focus for the magic is the mage that's traveling with my MC; he's still young, and I want to have him limited in how much and what sort of magic he can do. There are a lot of "barely can do anything" mages, a good number of mages at around his level or a bit better, and it's rare to have a mage that can solve a bunch of problems with magic instead of mundane means.
This is what I think the system is like sofar, but I'm open for tweaking things to let the magic feel a bit more magical/useful instead of a type of science we don't have access to.
In this setting I want to make it so that for most people, trying to learn magic wouldn't be worth it even if they knew they wouldn't wash out of training. Sort of "you trained for ten years so you could light something on fire with magic instead of carrying a Zippo? You still need a piece of jewelry or that special ink." (An exaggeration, but mages do need to keep trying to find new spells as technology supplants them. Someone who could light a fire could do a lot of other things with access to the right spells.) Being able to cast magic without a spell diagram is freakishly rare.
A mage could either train for energy-capacity, knowledge, or a balance of both. A journeyman in energy-capacity with low-knowledge could activate only prepared spells. (A bit like how in Legend of Korra, they had lightning-benders channeling into the power-grid.) I don't want untrained mundanes to be able to activate magical objects, but I want it to be rare for people to be completely unable to train in magic. I'm thinking that "enchantments" where the spell runs on its own doesn't happen, but possibly an artificially-imposed limit; having an artifact gather additional magic so a caster only has to channel a small amount of the spell's required energy might be possible.
Sofar my ideas are:

• energy-conversion: The aether is a source of limitless magical energy, the limit is in how much the mage can channel. They could move heat into or out of an object or area, or turn aether energy into light. They haven't figured out how to really control electricity, and converting any energy into movement requires a bit more advancement in science. (Steam-engines are new.)
• element manipulation: limited to the atomic level, they could turn water into flammable gas but not lead into gold. Maybe someone could turn a rock into sand and then reform it into a quartz crystal, but that should be hard.
• teleportation magic: I'm still trying to figure out how it works, but it takes training to open an existing gate and only a master in both energy-capacity and knowledge could create a new one. (Basically make gate-travel expensive enough that most goods are still moved by barge.) Related would be some sort of magical cellphone that I'm still deciding how hard it is to use, and the possibility of having portable access to a dimensional pocket like a bag of holding. (I want creation of these things to be very expensive to keep them rare.)
• illusion magic: I'm thinking that being able to shape light requires specialized mental training to hone their ability to visualize what they want. A blank surface or an image baked into the spell-diagram is easier.
• Healing should be obscenely difficult to do, as in very few people have the training to not make things worse.

What I think I don't want:

• I don't want magic that directly affects thoughts, manipulates time, or see into unknown locations.
• I don't want resurrection to be possible. Trapping or releasing souls should be complicated so killing someone is easier to do with mundane methods.
• I don't want to create the illusion of sentience or animate something that should not be able to move on its own. (An artifact that looks like it could play chess is some sort of mechanical turk contraption and might need more advanced technology to be puppeted remotely with magic. At that point technology might just be a few years away from radio-control.)
• I don't think I want to make things fly unless science says it can fly.

I didn’t expect such an easy exam AT ALL! What the heck was that? And the DDoS diagram, it was repeated. The only problematic part probably was the fetch execute cycle blanks but literally everything else was easy. How did it go for you?

Hi guys, I downloaded an anatomy textbook that was ONLY labelled diagrams on one page and the page directly after that was the diagram without the labels & instead were blank lines so that you could fill them in yourself. My iCloud didn’t save it and I don’t remember the name. I only got past the first few diagrams which were the vertebrae specifically the vertebral column. I don’t remember the name if anyone can please assist! This is the only way I can visually learn! Thank you.

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On November 8th, 1969 the Zodiac sent in the Dripping Pen card which included a list of months at the end. (December, July, Aug, Sept, Oct)
On November 9th, 1969 the Zodiac mailed in Bus Bomb letter which had a diagram with 5 X's along 12 possible positions at the end.
As had been pointed out in the past, the given list of months in the Nov 8th letter maps to the X's at the end of the Bus Bomb letter, with December at the bottom and then proceeding in a counter-clockwise fashion.
I assigned each position a number, and then listed out all permutations that would display the proximal relationship that the X's display.

clockwise	counter-clockwise
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB
1234567890AB	1234567890AB

I considered further that marking 7 X's and leaving 5 blank would effectively leave the same pattern of spatial relationships, except as blanks instead of X's. In total, this makes for 48 permutations that would correlate with the list of months.
At 12 digits in length, and each digit being an X or not, this just functions like binary. So, 2^12 = 4,096.
Therefore, 48/4096 = 1.171875% chance to occur by dumb luck, which means that the inverse likelihood of 98.828125% is associated with intent on the part of the killer.

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Zombies have been a staple of pop culture and cinema since the likes of ‘White Zombie’ and ‘Night of the Living Dead’. Numerous interpretations and adaptions have been given life over the last few century - with the general premise staying the same. A reanimated undead corpse, now no longer under control by its original owner, typically flesh-eating and hungry for brains.
A lot of people believe that’s all zombies are. A fictional creature created by the film industry to make millions at the box office. But many would be shocked to learn of the true and terrifying incident that occurred involving said creatures. An incident that was covered up by a coalition of governing bodies in order not to panic the public at the time. The real-life incident involving the Rwandan zombies.
Mobuto Saleh was born on 28th October 1978 in Kigali, Rwanda. At the time, he was the youngest of 4 brothers, all of whom were significantly older than Mobutu. Mobutu grew up through the Rwandan Civil War (which raged violently from 1990 - 1994). During this time his family (including his mother, father and 3 older brothers) would move out of the dangerous capital city to a town called Cyangugu. Cyangugu was, at the time of the move in 1990, relatively safe from the conflict and allowed Mobuto to experience a relatively normal childhood. It also made him extremely close with the youngest of his older brothers, Stephen Saleh.
Stephen Saleh was 10 years older than Mabuto, placing him to be about 22 years old at the time of the incident. Stephen kept a watchful eye over his younger brother, keeping him safe while they went out and played in the streets. Stephen and Mabuto would often visit the local jungle together, spending hours exploring and playing games. Mabuto idolised Stephen, with the 12-year old constantly at the heels of his older brother.
On 26th November 1990 is when the beginning of the horrifying tale would seemingly begin to unravel. All information has been extracted from the diaries of Mabuto Saleh, allowing us to understand the timeline of events that led up to the unfortunate ending.
25/11/90:
Me and Stephen went exploring again today. The news on the radio is all about the war and fighting. I think Stephen can tell that I get scared when they read out the death count and describe what is happening in Kigali. When he sees I’m scared he always suggests that we go and explore the jungle, which is what we did today.
We saw the weirdest thing in the jungle today though. It was a small velvet monkey, we see these quite a lot so that’s not the weird thing. What was weird is he was completely still. We usually see them swinging through the trees, this one wasn’t. He was stood on the floor and was co go and collect some fruit, but when we came back an hour later the monkey was gone? Weird. Completely still. His eyes were open, and he was stood on his hind legs - so definitely alive. Sort of swaying too. But he was just like a statue, me and Stephen watched him for about 20 minutes and then we got really creeped out.
We left to go and collect some fruit, but when we came back an hour later the monkey was gone? Weird.
28/11/90:
Me and Stephen were in jungle again today and he really scared me. We were playing hide and seek and he was the one seeking. I hid in a great spot in the tree, I knew he’d never find me there. I waited for like an hour, and he still didn’t come! I got really bored, so I came down because I thought I must’ve won by now. I couldn’t find him anywhere and I thought maybe he thought he was hiding, until I saw him in a clearing by some trees. He was just stood there really still like a statue. Like that monkey the other day actually. I walked round to the front of him so I could see his face, and he was just staring straight ahead. His eyes were really glassy and bloodshot like he hadn’t blinked in ages. I kept shouting at him ‘Stephen, Stephen! Hello! Hello! Answer me, this isn’t funny!’ - but he just kept still and didn’t say anything. I thought this joke was really not funny, but even when I hit him he didn’t move. I ran off to go and get Iman (another Saleh brother), we came back about 30 minutes later and Stephen was gone! Iman thought we were joking and nearly went home but I started crying and he said he’d help me look for Stephen, because it would get dark soon.
We spent an hour looking for Stephen and couldn’t find him anywhere. I could see Iman getting worried too, but he kept saying ‘I’m sure he’s fine’. It was getting dark when I heard Iman shout ‘Stephen, what the fuck are you doing?!’. I ran over, and Iman was stood over Stephen. Stephen had buried himself in the undergrowth of some bushes and vines. He had covered himself in dirt and leaves, and only parts of his face and arms he hadn’t covered well enough were visible. We knew he buried himself because we could see the mud under his fingernails from where he had dug it up. He still had that look on his face like he hadn’t blinked still. Iman went down to grab Stephen’s shoulder and pull him up, and Stephen snapped out of it and lunged at Iman! He punched him and growled! Then, he calmed down again. Iman looked like his feelings were hurt, but he was fine. He asked Stephen why he did that, and Stephen just replied with ‘I don’t know’. We all walked home in silence. I don’t know what happened, but I hope Stephen is okay tomorrow.
It should also be noted that Stephen Saleh was described as being very mild-mannered until this point, having never been in a fight in his life - let alone striking his own brother.
29/11/90:
I went into Stephen’s room this morning to see if he felt better. He looked awful, he looked like a skeleton, I asked how he lost so much weight over night but he didn’t answer. He just kept staring blankly at the wall. I guess he just wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to talk, so I left him alone.
I saw Kwita this afternoon (a friend of Mobuto of the same age) and we went to the jungle to play. I was a little bit scared at first because of how Stephen was acting yesterday, but I forgot about it after a while.
Kwita told me that earlier that day he saw a monkey eating another monkey! I think he’s lying though. Velvet monkeys (what he saw) are herbivores and that means they do not eat meat. So how could it be eating another monkey? Stephen taught me that. I hope he’s okay.
30/11/90:
I went into Stephen’s room this morning and he wasn’t there? I thought maybe he had felt better today so decided to go outside! I wish he had told me so we could’ve gone to play together!
This was the final diary entry of Mobuto Saleh. On 1st December 1990, in their family home, the bodies of Mobuto Saleh, Iman Saleh and their mother and father were found scattered throughout the house. The crime scene was vicious, and was assumed an animal attack. All the bodies had had their internal organs savagely eaten. That same day, a further 12 bodies were found in the surrounding area - all murdered and gorged upon in a similar fashion.
Local police quickly swarmed the area, looking for who or what could be responsible for the attacks. What they found shocked them. At 10:20pm Stephen Saleh was seen, leaving a local home. He walked slowly out of the house, with blood surrounding his mouth and over his hands and arms. Stephen Saleh was ‘barely recognisable’ as he was said to be incredibly skinny, with open wounds all over his body. He was also naked.
The police began to try and reason with Stephen from a distance, but he simply ignored them and kept walking. One officer opened fire on Stephen, shooting him twice with a pistol - to which Stephen astonishingly had no reaction. After a third shot was fired - again hitting Stephen in the chest - he allegedly turned and began walking towards the police. More police opened fire on Stephen, who continued to stagger towards them. Stephen managed to eventually get his hands on one of the police officers, attempting to then sink his teeth into the officers torso.
He was wrestled to the ground before he could achieve this, and finally stopped moving when a shot was fired to his head. The police and local town were extremely shaken by this, and immediately reported the strange activity to the Rwandan army. The army and local government, allegedly under advice from a scientist, bombed the area and surrounding jungle on the 2nd December 1990. This resulted in countless deaths, but was swept under the rug due to the ongoing civil war and far greater death toll emerging from Kigali every day.
The few who were lucky enough to live and recount the tale of Stephen Saleh, were left baffled for years as to the nature of his crimes and the government’s cruel response. In 2002, a local Rwandan scientist proposed the theory that Stephen Saleh had been turned into a zombie. The Emerald Cockroach Wasp, is a parasitic wasp that has evolved into turning cockroaches into ‘zombies’. The wasp’s initial sting is a paralysing sting, putting the cockroach into a bio-chemically induced state of transient paralysis. This halts the cockroaches movement entirely, allowing the wasp to more accurately locate the victim’s head ganglia for the second sting. The second sting releases venom that blocks receptors for the neurotransmitter octopamine. Essentially, this means the cockroach is under a state of mind control. The wasp then leads the cockroach to a burrow (through chemical secretions that the cockroach follows instinctively now), so it can plant it’s larvae in the cockroaches brain in private. The wasp then leaves, it’s work done. The cockroach maintains in a trance-like state for a couple of days while the larvae hatch inside its brain. One the larvae have hatched, they then begin to eat the internal organs of the cockroach. The cockroach, with its octopamine now blocked, is essentially dead anyway. It is now a vehicle for the wasp larvae to control. After the larvae have devoured the cockroaches internal organs. They burrow their way out, as fully grown wasps.
It’s theorised this is what happened to Stephen Saleh, that day on the 25th November - whilst he was seeking his brother. He was likely stung by an emerald cockroach wasp, or a wasp of similar nature. This explains his paralysed state in Mobuto’s diary entries. As well as his self ‘burrowing’, so the wasp can lay its larvae in peace. It also explains his fast weight loss, as he was technically dead at that time - with the wasp larvae devouring his internal organs. Finally, it’s thought that when the wasp larvae have finished the internal organs of the host - if more nutrients is required - they will use the host’s lifeless body to consume the internal organs of others.
But how could a parasitic wasp go from preying on cockroaches to mammals? That’s still unknown. One theory, a likely candidate, is to do with the chemicals that were being sprayed over the Cyangugu jungle in the late 1980s as a form of pesticide. These chemicals were since banned in 1992. It is theorised the chemical sprays contained a property that mutated the Emerald Cockroach Wasp into having venom potent enough to hunt for humans and other primates as their host bodies.
This is likely why the government and army acted fast - burning the whole area - to rid any chance of this mutated wasp continuing this devastating process.
Naturally no bodies of any of the Saleh family or any other of Stephen’s victims could be identified after the fires. The gruesome event was swept under the rug, never making it to mainstream media due to the ongoing civil war in Rwanda overshadowing the horrors and normalising the vast amount of deaths that occurred. It is unsure if Stephen Saleh was the only human victim of the wasp, or if more zombies had been created and not documented.
The only evidence left of the story of the Rwandan Zombies are the charred remains of the diary of Mobuto Saleh and the original police report filings. Many hope this is the first and only reporting of a real life zombie, however I suppose we won’t know - not unless some of the mutated parasitic wasp managed to survive. Perhaps lying dormant, until years later.

Zombies have been a staple of pop culture and cinema since the likes of ‘White Zombie’ and ‘Night of the Living Dead’. Numerous interpretations and adaptions have been given life over the last few century - with the general premise staying the same. A reanimated undead corpse, now no longer under control by its original owner, typically flesh-eating and hungry for brains.
A lot of people believe that’s all zombies area: a fictional creature created by the film industry to make millions at the box office. But many would be shocked to learn of the true and terrifying incident that occurred involving said creatures. An incident that was covered up by a coalition of governing bodies in order not to panic the public at the time. The real-life incident involving the Rwandan zombies.
Mobuto Saleh was born on 28th October 1978 in Kigali, Rwanda. At the time, he was the youngest of 4 brothers, all of whom were significantly older than Mobutu. Mobutu grew up through the Rwandan Civil War (which raged violently from 1990 - 1994). During this time his family (including his mother, father and 3 older brothers) would move out of the dangerous capital city to a town called Cyangugu. Cyangugu was, at the time of the move in 1990, relatively safe from the conflict and allowed Mobuto to experience a relatively normal childhood. It also made him extremely close with the youngest of his older brothers, Stephen Saleh.
Stephen Saleh was 10 years older than Mabuto, placing him to be about 22 years old at the time of the incident. Stephen kept a watchful eye over his younger brother, keeping him safe while they went out and played in the streets. Stephen and Mabuto would often visit the local jungle together, spending hours exploring and playing games. Mabuto idolised Stephen, with the 12-year old constantly at the heels of his older brother.
On 26th November 1990 is when the beginning of the horrifying tale would seemingly begin to unravel. All information has been extracted from the diaries of Mabuto Saleh, allowing us to understand the timeline of events that led up to the unfortunate ending.
25/11/90:
Me and Stephen went exploring again today. The news on the radio is all about the war and fighting. I think Stephen can tell that I get scared when they read out the death count and describe what is happening in Kigali. When he sees I’m scared he always suggests that we go and explore the jungle, which is what we did today.
We saw the weirdest thing in the jungle today though. It was a small velvet monkey, we see these quite a lot so that’s not the weird thing. What was weird is he was completely still. We usually see them swinging through the trees, this one wasn’t. He was stood on the floor and was co go and collect some fruit, but when we came back an hour later the monkey was gone? Weird. Completely still. His eyes were open, and he was stood on his hind legs - so definitely alive. Sort of swaying too. But he was just like a statue, me and Stephen watched him for about 20 minutes and then we got really creeped out.
We left to go and collect some fruit, but when we came back an hour later the monkey was gone? Weird.
28/11/90:
Me and Stephen were in jungle again today and he really scared me. We were playing hide and seek and he was the one seeking. I hid in a great spot in the tree, I knew he’d never find me there. I waited for like an hour, and he still didn’t come! I got really bored, so I came down because I thought I must’ve won by now. I couldn’t find him anywhere and I thought maybe he thought he was hiding, until I saw him in a clearing by some trees. He was just stood there really still like a statue. Like that monkey the other day actually. I walked round to the front of him so I could see his face, and he was just staring straight ahead. His eyes were really glassy and bloodshot like he hadn’t blinked in ages. I kept shouting at him ‘Stephen, Stephen! Hello! Hello! Answer me, this isn’t funny!’ - but he just kept still and didn’t say anything. I thought this joke was really not funny, but even when I hit him he didn’t move. I ran off to go and get Iman (another Saleh brother), we came back about 30 minutes later and Stephen was gone! Iman thought we were joking and nearly went home but I started crying and he said he’d help me look for Stephen, because it would get dark soon.
We spent an hour looking for Stephen and couldn’t find him anywhere. I could see Iman getting worried too, but he kept saying ‘I’m sure he’s fine’. It was getting dark when I heard Iman shout ‘Stephen, what the fuck are you doing?!’. I ran over, and Iman was stood over Stephen. Stephen had buried himself in the undergrowth of some bushes and vines. He had covered himself in dirt and leaves, and only parts of his face and arms he hadn’t covered well enough were visible. We knew he buried himself because we could see the mud under his fingernails from where he had dug it up. He still had that look on his face like he hadn’t blinked still. Iman went down to grab Stephen’s shoulder and pull him up, and Stephen snapped out of it and lunged at Iman! He punched him and growled! Then, he calmed down again. Iman looked like his feelings were hurt, but he was fine. He asked Stephen why he did that, and Stephen just replied with ‘I don’t know’. We all walked home in silence. I don’t know what happened, but I hope Stephen is okay tomorrow.
It should also be noted that Stephen Saleh was described as being very mild-mannered until this point, having never been in a fight in his life - let alone striking his own brother.
29/11/90:
I went into Stephen’s room this morning to see if he felt better. He looked awful, he looked like a skeleton, I asked how he lost so much weight over night but he didn’t answer. He just kept staring blankly at the wall. I guess he just wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to talk, so I left him alone.
I saw Kwita this afternoon (a friend of Mobuto of the same age) and we went to the jungle to play. I was a little bit scared at first because of how Stephen was acting yesterday, but I forgot about it after a while.
Kwita told me that earlier that day he saw a monkey eating another monkey! I think he’s lying though. Velvet monkeys (what he saw) are herbivores and that means they do not eat meat. So how could it be eating another monkey? Stephen taught me that. I hope he’s okay.
30/11/90:
I went into Stephen’s room this morning and he wasn’t there? I thought maybe he had felt better today so decided to go outside! I wish he had told me so we could’ve gone to play together!
This was the final diary entry of Mobuto Saleh. On 1st December 1990, in their family home, the bodies of Mobuto Saleh, Iman Saleh and their mother and father were found scattered throughout the house. The crime scene was vicious, and was assumed an animal attack. All the bodies had had their internal organs savagely eaten. That same day, a further 12 bodies were found in the surrounding area - all murdered and gorged upon in a similar fashion.
Local police quickly swarmed the area, looking for who or what could be responsible for the attacks. What they found shocked them. At 10:20pm Stephen Saleh was seen, leaving a local home. He walked slowly out of the house, with blood surrounding his mouth and over his hands and arms. Stephen Saleh was ‘barely recognisable’ as he was said to be incredibly skinny, with open wounds all over his body. He was also naked.
The police began to try and reason with Stephen from a distance, but he simply ignored them and kept walking. One officer opened fire on Stephen, shooting him twice with a pistol - to which Stephen astonishingly had no reaction. After a third shot was fired - again hitting Stephen in the chest - he allegedly turned and began walking towards the police. More police opened fire on Stephen, who continued to stagger towards them. Stephen managed to eventually get his hands on one of the police officers, attempting to then sink his teeth into the officers torso.
He was wrestled to the ground before he could achieve this, and finally stopped moving when a shot was fired to his head. The police and local town were extremely shaken by this, and immediately reported the strange activity to the Rwandan army. The army and local government, allegedly under advice from a scientist, bombed the area and surrounding jungle on the 2nd December 1990. This resulted in countless deaths, but was swept under the rug due to the ongoing civil war and far greater death toll emerging from Kigali every day.
The few who were lucky enough to live and recount the tale of Stephen Saleh, were left baffled for years as to the nature of his crimes and the government’s cruel response. In 2002, a local Rwandan scientist proposed the theory that Stephen Saleh had been turned into a zombie. The Emerald Cockroach Wasp, is a parasitic wasp that has evolved into turning cockroaches into ‘zombies’. The wasp’s initial sting is a paralysing sting, putting the cockroach into a bio-chemically induced state of transient paralysis. This halts the cockroaches movement entirely, allowing the wasp to more accurately locate the victim’s head ganglia for the second sting. The second sting releases venom that blocks receptors for the neurotransmitter octopamine. Essentially, this means the cockroach is under a state of mind control. The wasp then leads the cockroach to a burrow (through chemical secretions that the cockroach follows instinctively now), so it can its larvae in the cockroaches brain in private. The wasp then leaves, it’s work done. The cockroach maintains in a trance-like state for a couple of days while the larvae hatch inside its brain. One the larvae have hatched, they then begin to eat the internal organs of the cockroach. The cockroach, with its octopamine now blocked, is essentially dead anyway. It is now a vehicle for the wasp larvae to control. After the larvae have devoured the cockroaches internal organs. They burrow their way out, as fully grown wasps.
It’s theorised this is what happened to Stephen Saleh, that day on the 25th November - whilst he was seeking his brother. He was likely stung by an emerald cockroach wasp, or a wasp of similar nature. This explains his paralysed state in Mobuto’s diary entries. As well as his self ‘burrowing’, so the wasp can lay its larvae in peace. It also explains his fast weight loss, as he was technically dead at that time - with the wasp larvae devouring his internal organs. Finally, it’s thought that when the wasp larvae have finished the internal organs of the host - if more nutrients is required - they will use the host’s lifeless body to consume the internal organs of others.
But how could a parasitic wasp go from preying on cockroaches to mammals? That’s still unknown. One theory, a likely candidate, is to do with the chemicals that were being sprayed over the Cyangugu jungle in the late 1980s as a form of pesticide. These chemicals were since banned in 1992. It is theorised the chemical sprays contained a property that mutated the Emerald Cockroach Wasp into having venom potent enough to hunt for humans and other primates as their host bodies.
This is likely why the government and army acted fast - burning the whole area - to rid any chance of this mutated wasp continuing this devastating process.
Naturally no bodies of any of the Saleh family or any other of Stephen’s victims could be identified after the fires. The gruesome event was swept under the rug, never making it to mainstream media due to the ongoing civil war in Rwanda overshadowing the horrors and normalising the vast amount of deaths that occurred. It is unsure if Stephen Saleh was the only human victim of the wasp, or if more zombies had been created and not documented.
The only evidence left of the story of the Rwandan Zombies are the charred remains of the diary of Mobuto Saleh and the original police report filings. Many hope this is the first and only reporting of a real life zombie, however I suppose we won’t know - not unless some of the mutated parasitic wasp managed to survive. Perhaps lying dormant, until years later.

The battle for the Starcarrier was brief but fierce, and the floors were drenched in blood.
Scorch marks marred the floors, the ceilings, the walls. The thick durasteel bulkheads were stained with chalky streaks of black and red and bits of bone, and where small fires had sprung up, eerie shadows writhed in the hellish glow. Most of the heavy fighting had long since died off, but the occasional eruption of muffled shouts and pulse rifle chatter came to Mat as distant, hollow things—a dirge of death that echoed down the halls.
He stumbled through darkened corridors and debris-strewn cabins, Nova rifle scraping behind him in a grip weakened by blood loss, drifting past corpses he once called friends. Bodies blocked half-closed doors and cramped halls, some missing limbs or eyes, or even their heads. And for a time, he searched without thought, aimless, a wounded beast maddened by pain and loss, driven by some primal instinct to seek out those who had attacked his ship and killed his friends. They must die…All of them…Die…Pay for what they've done. His thoughts were fractured, scattered, slow to react.
Then the stims kicked in, a sudden, intense electric rush along his veins that cleared the fog from his mind and filled his limbs with terrible strength. His limp vanished, wounds closed, and the rifle came up. He was running again, eyes burning with the promise of death, an implacable foe who knew only an unquenchable thirst for vengeance. And he hunted.
On and on he went, a nightmare in the killing fields of the ship, methodically hunting his prey, reveling in their dying screeches, remorseless and relentless, unstoppable.
He killed without mercy and without hesitation, time and enemies fading into an indistinct blur of blood and screams and death. Death. The dead lay everywhere! All across the carrier, he saw faces he knew, faces of friends and people he loved, dear companions through the long years of war. Torn and broken they were, bodies scattered across vast flight bays and control rooms, mess halls and barracks wings, blank eyes staring blindly. It fed a white-hot fury kindling in his chest until he was sure it must explode. Until he was sure he could hear his sweat sizzling on his face.
Despair. Rage.
From small side rooms to the large bridge deck and everywhere between, toppled furniture lay broken and scattered, charred debris littered the floors, and broken glass crunched under his boots. Everywhere he looked, his eyes found the dead, friends and foes alike, piles of mangled corpses, some still leaking delicate ribbons from wounds smoking with rising heat. They fell in twisted piles throughout a maze of steel and winding corridors cloaked in flickering darkness. Entire platoons lay where they had fallen. Or groups of twos or threes, or even single forms, struck down in attempted flight, faces frozen in the horror.
Then there were the Squids.
A seemingly unending horde of enemy shock troops that fell upon unsuspecting human outposts, slaughtering all in sight. Tall they were and gangly, with long limbs and large bulbous heads covered in writhing tentacles, oblong like a squid. Six Jasper green eyes, slit vertically down the center like a cat’s, arced evenly under a prominent brow ridge. They had no nose, no mouth, only a smooth, flat face of black flesh mottled with dark green splotches. For all their strange appearance, their armor was stranger still, thin, and translucent, a glassy material that shifted through a near-infinite spectrum of colors.
They brought war. Humanity answered them.
This was the deadliest battle Mat had seen since the start of the Squid invasion, a confused and chaotic jumble of screams, explosions, and death. What few lights survived the chaos, whether overhead strips or overturned lamps, flickered and throbbed in random places, went dark for a moment, then surged back to life brighter than ever to begin the cycle anew. Everywhere he went the air was smoky and reeked of burnt hair and blistered flesh, a stinging haze that clawed at his lungs. Odd sounds came to him from the flickering shadows: the creaking groan of shifting bulkheads, the echo of water dripping in the distance, moans of despair from the dying, and the hiss and snap of electrical surges that sent fountains of sparks leaping out to die in the darkness. It was unearthly quiet, spine-tingling, a quality that stirred the hairs on the back of his neck and kept his heart filled with dread.
Never stopping for more than a heartbeat, he found himself creeping through compartments and cabins, bunk rooms, and engineering wings on the fringes of the carrier, even the titanic engine core, almost a quarter-mile in length, half as wide and littered with blackened slag and support beams hanging from the ceiling. He killed where he found enemies, pausing to mouth a solemn prayer over fallen allies. Everything around him took on the aspect of a surrealistic painting, all indistinct contours, and undefined edges, an abstract raving from the mind of a madman—a house of horrors.
But he refused to surrender, he would not fall into despair; he would go on to the end.
Memory stirred.
He remembered the frantic voices of ops officers suddenly screaming over the comm that something strange was happening around the Starcarrier. Bizarre readings and impossible fluctuations had their sensors going awry. One moment there was only the endless black of the Barren Stretch around Echo Point, then the darkness rippled, shimmered, and their world descended into the darkest of nightmares. Squid warships materialized as if from nowhere, all sleek black planes and sharp angles, predatory in appearance and bristling with weapons. Echo Fleet battled them in the emptiness of space, a fierce fight to be sure, but the Squid vessels numbered in the hundreds. For over an hour they held off the Squids, until a hole opened in their shielding, allowing the hordes to blast their way into the Starcarrier.
Mat and his Marines met them with rifles blazing.
It was a frantic battle of adrenaline and fear, running and gunning across the ship. He watched his best friend Annikka throw herself on an enemy inferno wafer to shield her squad from the blast; watched in horror as the explosion reduced her to a blackened, smoldering skeleton before his eyes. So he could live.
Her scream echoed in his thoughts. Courage beyond measure. No time to mourn. Only anger. Only the battle. Only the near-endless enemy horde. Sowly his company of marines were whittled away until only Mat remained—a wolf hunting in a warren of rats.
•••
Mat studied the cargo hold from a wide platform just inside its entrance. Or rather, he stared beyond it. His thoughts were elsewhere.
His wounds smelled of antiseptic medigel, a faint clinical odor that registered somewhere in the back of his thoughts. It helped dull the throbbing pain to a vague itch, a maddening itch in truth, one that crawled and slithered beneath his skin where no amount of scratching could relieve it. With all of Fleet’s advancements, you’d think they could have done something about that itch.
His Nova rifle rested on his shoulder, thin wisps of smoke trailing up from its barrel, and his right boot rested on an enemy soldier's chest. Several large holes smoldered between the Squid's four breasts, the air above them dancing with fiery motes. The expression frozen on the creature’s face was one of stunned disbelief. The expression on Mat’s face was troubled.
Questions circled in his mind.
Questions for which he could find no answers. Such as: how had the Squids found Echo Fleet out here in the Barren Stretch parsecs from anywhere with a semblance of civilization? Where had they come from? None of Echo Fleet’s sensors had detected the approaching enemy until they had attacked. How? The whole shittin affair stank of a rat, one he meant to ferret out if he lived long enough to see it done.
Yet he knew it went deeper than ship level. He was sure of it. There was no question in Mat’s mind that someone in the halls of power at Fleet had sold them out. It was the only thing that made sense. But why? What could they possibly hope to gain? The Squids did not negotiate. They did not show pity or remorse or restraint. They killed indiscriminately and never took prisoners. And they never broke their silence.
A few of the eccentrics back in the Sol system had a theory that was gaining traction. They believed the Squids looked at humanity as cattle and they were simply harvesting what the universe had provided. That's why no bodies were ever found. A strange notion that, both appalling and infuriating, considering the countless worlds teeming with myriad animal life ripe for the taking and without the brutal costs of war.
No, Mat was sure it had to be something else.
So what could the betrayer back at Fleet, whoever that might be, hope to gain by throwing themselves in with the Squids? A one-way trip to the final chill if Mat had his way. Still, they wanted something. What was it? To weaken Fleet? To destroy a political rival? What was their endgame? A look of utter disgust twisted down his mouth and he spit on the cold steel floor grating. Money and power. It always comes back to that. Greed.
A flicker of movement caught his eye.
Heart hammering against his ribs, Mat raced to the end of the corridor, rounded it, and dropped to one knee, rifle snapping up for the kill. A vague armored form vanished into the ship’s command and control center at the far end of the hall.
Shit! I have to stop them! He sprinted toward the room.
Every ship in Fleet had a room just like it. The heavily shielded chamber housed vast computer banks and neural network arrays, holo readouts, and a million pulsing thrumming lights, the brains that drove the Starcarrier. But more importantly, hidden within that room was an encrypted transponder case complete with its own power source and comm array that held the Fleet access codes issued to each ship. Those codes kept the vast defense networks guarding humanity’s borders from mistaking an approaching friendly for enemy ships and turning them into glittering space dust. Only the captain and first officer ever put eyes on those codes. If the enemy managed to get their hands on a transponder they could penetrate human defenses; they could move unchallenged toward the inner worlds! Not while I'm breathing, Mat scowled, and he unconsciously bared his teeth, hustling up to the edge of the control room’s entrance. Heart thundering in his ears, mouth dry as a sun-bleached bone, he shot a quick glance inside. Shock rocked him back on his heels.
“Commander, Dollard?”
A tall woman working the controls of the master holo terminal whirled to face him, an ugly snarl twisting her features. Her Blaze pistol came up for the kill. Mat dived outside ahead of a hail of heat rounds that put glowing holes in the doorway’s frame.
“Hold fire, Commander! Hold fire,” he shouted and was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. “It's Lieutenant Kostek, sir. Marines, Bravo company.”
“Kostek?” A moment of silence followed. “Show me your cube, Kostek. Nice and slow, hear? Unless you want new holes stamped into your face.”
Mat took a deep breath. Stay cool. It's cool. A vision of heat rounds leaving his face a perforated, smoking ruin did little to calm his frayed nerves. Slowly he stepped into the open with his hands out wide, rifle barrel pointing at the ceiling. His free hand dug for his Fleet cube and he tossed it at the wary commander’s feet.
Without taking her eyes, or her pistol, off him, she sank down and snatched up the cube, a small thing of a size with a large marble. Rising she pinched its sides and a three-dimensional holographic image sprang to life in the air, slowly revolving. It was a detailed bust of Mat with all his relevant information scrolling to one side, height and weight, eye color, where he was born, his complete service record, achievements and medals, everything since the day he was born.
Her steely eyes studied the life-like image, scanning the words, darting to Mat then back. After a few tense moments in which Mat wasn't sure whether she would try to kill him again or not, she visibly relaxed, straightened, and lowered her pistol.
“Why are you here, lieutenant?” Her voice was a hoarse rasp like dry leaves rustling over old leather, but her eyes were hard as black gemstones. They watched him closely. “I thought everyone was dead. The Squids are everywhere. Cost me two companies of the navy’s finest to get here.”
Mat nodded. He understood completely. “Same here, commander. I'm all that's left of my company and the Squids keep coming.” He’d killed so many that he lost count after a hundred. That was hours ago. He started to ask for a sitrep, but the words dried in his throat.
Something was wrong.
The commander was acting strange, all fidgety, eyes shifting to the side as if drawn to something behind her. He kept his face smooth, but his instincts were screaming, and his trigger finger itching. She’d asked why he was here, now he wondered the same of her. What was she doing at that terminal when he first arrived? It was an effort to keep his voice cool. His fingers tightened on his rifle’s grip. Was she the betrayer? Was that why she fired at him? It could be? Maybe.
“Where is the captain?” he asked, ready to swing his rifle up and blast her into the next life. “Is Fleet sending reinforcements?” He watched for even the barest twitch of a lip, the slightest lifting of a brow when he mentioned Fleet. Nothing. The woman was carved from stone.
“Captain Tressk is dead.” She grimaced at the truth. “Cut down by the Squids. Blown out into the final chill along with the last of our troops when a bulkhead lost containment. I barely survived.” She spit on the deck to emphasize her disgust. “That was an hour ago. You're the first friendly I've seen since.” She looked at him sharply as if just remembering something. “You never answered my question. Why are you here?”
“I could ask the same of you, commander.” His voice was venomous and he didn't bother to hide it. Only the slightest whisper of doubt kept him from killing her. “What were you doing when I walked in?”
Confusion shadowed her face. Then anger. “Carrying out the captain’s final instructions and my duty as first officer.” She lifted her chin like a haughty queen from centuries past. “That is what I was doing, lieutenant. Not that it's any concern of yours.” She jerked her head toward the starboard bulkhead. “As for your reinforcements, they're not coming. There is a Squid battle group out there. They have us surrounded. Every other ship in Echo Fleet has been reduced to clouds of drifting debris. We are surrounded, hopelessly outnumbered, most of the crew are dead. There’s no escape. No hope.” She stopped for a moment and her eyes bore into him. “If you’re here to stop me you’re too late.”
Mat thought he saw a brief flicker of misery darken her features, but when he looked again she was stone. Stop her from what? He was about to ask her just that and how she had miraculously managed to escape the hull breach when something behind her caught his eye.
The holo screen was counting down: Thirty-three seconds, thirty-two, and so on.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded, pointing his rifle at the holo screen as they locked eyes. Thirty.
The commander drew herself up. The hand holding her pistol twitched. “I’ve activated the ship’s self-destruct sequence, lieutenant.” Her voice was flat, resigned, and emotionless. “It's the final protocol in the event a capital ship might fall into enemy hands. We are alone. Fleet is not coming. Our comms were damaged before a message could be sent. Couldn’t be done remotely either.”
Twenty-five.
Her dark eyes studied him for a moment, then seemed to soften. “The escape system experienced catastrophic damage, too. We were fucked from the start.”
Twenty…
His first reaction, through the shock and rising anger, was to demand she stop that shit right fucking now! Who the hell did she think she was to decide this for the both of them? Breathe, breathe. Then rational thought took over, the red haze lifted from his eyes, and he understood the necessity. He didn't like it, hated it, hated her and the Squids and the whole God damn war. But he understood the necessity of what she had done. It was even poetic in a way. A blaze of glory like in the old texts. A blaze like a small supernova that would annihilate the surrounding Squid fleet. It was brilliant. He hated her for it.
Fifteen…
Duty, honor; they were heavy as a mountain. Eirene, my love. Regret weighed down his heart like an anchor. I’m a soldier. Soldiers die. A heartbeat later he accepted his fate with a grudging nod.
“Well,” he said. “I can’t think of a better fuck you to all the squids out there than riding the supernova that sends them to hell.”
“Indeed.” Her stony face finally cracked, a crooked smile that tugged up at one side of her mouth. Moisture glistened in her eyes. “Fitting justice that we drag them to hell with us, yes? Though small consolation.”
Mat said nothing.
Justice, he thought with more than a little bitterness. There was no fucking justice here. Else why was he about to die on a ship surrounded by a bunch of fucking Squids in the middle of the barren stretch? Instead of at home in his bed beside his wife at the ripe old age of a hundred and fifty? No, there was no justice. Justice had forsaken them long ago. I'm a soldier.
Mat’s rifle clattered on the steel floor. So this is how it ends? Fuck.
Ten…
Nine…
Commander Dollard was watching him. “I'm sorry lieutenant.” She looked away as a tear broke free and rolled down her cheek.
He waved her words away. It didn't matter. This wasn't her fault. She didn't want to be here anymore than he did, maybe less.
Mat fell back against the cold steel wall, swallowing hard, pulling off his helmet, and fighting down the nauseating terror that had seized his heart. He was going to die. He was a soldier. He was going to die.
Courage, Mat. Courage. There was no stopping it, there was no denying it. In a few moments, his story would end here in this barren stretch of no-name space. And for what? He’d always thought his death would come suddenly in some battle without time for fear or regret. But standing here now, watching the agonizing countdown to his demise, utterly flogged him. The universe and all its countless masses would go on without Mat Fortis. He tried to imagine not being here. Would anyone notice their absence? Would they care?
Sudden panic gripped his chest, hot and sharp, followed by impotent rage at the injustice of it all. Fear. Terrible fear like a black mist swirling in his heart. He was a soldier. I'm a soldier. Everyone dies.
His only regret was that he would never see his beloved wife again.
Eirene, my love, my life. Would that things could be different. I want so badly to see your face. To taste your lips. Breathe in the scent of your hair, of you. Lay with your head on my chest while we doze in the sunlight. One last goodbye... my friend, my wife. I'll love you forever.
He fixed an image of Eirene’s smiling face in his mind, a radiant memory from his last rotation home. They were on a sun-drenched beach in Baia Do Sancho. Gulls cried and wheeled overhead in a crystalline sky and the ocean purred in the background. Her eyes were luminous blue in the sunlight, like flawless gems of infinite facets full of love and dancing with laughter, gloriously alive. Golden tresses framed the delicate curves of her face in lustrous waves spilling past her shoulders and down her back. The sunshine glittered there. She whispered I love you and he smiled.
Mat clung to that memory as though it were a life preserver and he was a man tossed about in a thrashing sea.
Five…
He pulled out a pack of NicStiks, shook one out, and fired it up, pulling deeply on the smoke until the coal glowed brilliant scarlet.
“Wife made me quit years ago. Always kept a pack just in case. Y’know?”
The commander nodded. “She will forgive you this one I think.” A sudden laugh burst through her tears.
Three…
“But those things will kill you.”
Two…
Mat laughed and tears stained his cheeks. “Yea,” he said and took another long drag on the smoke, tilting his back against the wall and closing his eyes, savoring the pleasant burn in his lungs. “But who wants to live forever?”
One...
His last thought before a blinding flash of heat carried him into darkness, was his wife’s name.
Eirene.

• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
I am 24, female
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
I have been suffering from anxiety all my life.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
My family was fairly religious and I did not mind it all that much because I loved listening to all the myths and stories but I wouldn't call myself religious. In fact, I would describe myself as an atheist or an agnostic but my family doesn't care all that much. Since, I belonged to an Asian family there was always this immense pressure to perform and be the best at everything as failure was not an option. Even though my dad had no money he always earned money for us somehow to make sure we lived as comfortably as possible. Our mother on the other hand used to straight up emotionally (sometimes even physically) abuse us to make sure we made our dad proud because of everything that he has been through. Our father suffered from a heart attack when I was 8 and thankfully survived but since then, the stakes have been always high to earn money as quickly as possible to take care of my family, me being the eldest and all.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I am a medical student almost done with my under graduation and I partly chose this career due to pressure from my parents and since I was relatively good at science in school, I eventually came to fall in love with it. Although I don't like helping the humanity part all that much, I do love, love the subjects and came to appreciate the art of medicine and the thrill of a diagnosis and the vast amount of knowledge it requires to just be good at a surface level.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
I would feel absolutely amazing and recharged.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
I love reading- I used to enjoy fiction and fantasy a lot when I was a kid but now I want to read about philosophy and the universe and the meaning of it all. I am relatively good at sports and I played badminton professionally and I absolutely love swimming. I prefer indoor activities to outdoor ones as I feel like I just get drained from all the stimulation.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
I would definitely describe myself as curious as I really want to learn how things work and what they mean and why do they work the way they do and I keep wondering how the human mind often creates or reinvents things that have always existed or perhaps didn't. I wish I had the time and energy to learn more about everything. I often find myself thinking about what I need to do in a day and how to do it efficiently when I am under pressure but if I were to let my mind roam freely then I find myself having various opinions on random things or concepts or people's behaviors.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
Even though I do not like taking up leadership positions, there have been incidences in the past which might have implied I would be good at it and the reason is because I always, always kept my colleagues well being a priority and made sure I stood up for them when needed and appreciated the sense of camaraderie and the feeling that the work that everyone put into mattered and benefited the group as a whole.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
I always find myself having a difficult time to catch on to things where hands are required. Its not that I am clumsy but I find myself staring at my hands clueless what to do, despite being repeatedly told to use them a certain way. But once I get the hang of it I do enjoy it because I get the feeling that I mastered something that I find difficult.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I am not artistic, however, I appreciate art and the purpose it serves. Be it music, ''art'' art, literature, sculptures, architecture of ancient ruins etc., they always have something to say about the human nature and progression of mankind and I like how they make you question in what instance and circumstance an artist came to the said idea and how they executed them. I specifically enjoy art forms that paint a picture about the past and all the lives humans have lived because they, in a way, make you question about the future as to how the humans will be/progress.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
The past, I think, is important to find answers because I believe that sometimes that is where clues lie to certain puzzles but other than that it is quite annoying when people dwell on the past, be it myself, or others. Pardon me for sounding pretentious but the present is quite overrated but calming, the future, on the other hand, I think leaves a little blank in my head because I don't know if I have to think and worry about my future or the humanity's. But I do find it comforting to think that in the end, nothing matters haha.
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I immediately help only if I think I should. If I suspect any ill intention or an ulterior motive then I refuse immediately as I have low tolerance for bs. I came to learn that kindness is important for the society to function but it comes at a high cost and I help a lot of people minimally but if they require a lot of my time and energy then usually its a big no unless it benefits me as well or its my loved ones or those I think deserve- then I try and give all of it.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
Yes and no.
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
They're very important to me because that's how you get ahead in life, however, its quite exhausting. I used to beat myself up if I did not finish a task on time and now I am not as harsh on myself.
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
NOOO, I hate when people try to control others as everybody is subjected to their own actions and emotions.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
I just draw up a random article about a random thing online and read about it haha. Other than that I really have no energy to keep up with the various things I am interested in. If I do have the time and energy I would like to swim, learn a language watch a tv show and read a a book on the universe/ neuroscience/ philosophy and teach myself physics and math because I suck at them. And I love trying food at various restaurants.
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
When I learn about something I tend to obsessively get stuck at a point and research about it in depth unless I knew everything about it. I just get obsessed with the details and go nowhere which is why I know the most random things in depth and nothing else. I absolutely suck at thinking logically and often find myself having ''brain fog'' if anything even remotely requires analytical thinking. I cannot get over this brain fog unless I put it on paper to make sense of things slowly. I am quite good at memorizing things, average at creative thinking. Whenever I learn something I like to interpret it myself rather than having someone break it down for me and often prefer diagram/ models/ pictures to text.
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
I see how strategizing can be efficient but its exhausting to plan and execute so I wing it as I go. I hate rigid schedules because there is no room for improvisation!
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
I want to create/ invent something and contribute something to the world and make use of my existence. It can be a machine, a drug, a theory- anything. Still waiting for that "aha" moment haha. It doesn't necessarily have to be revolutionary but if it contributes to something then my existence will be meaningful.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
I fear losing my dog. Eff humans but my dog is the most precious thing to me in the world. Also fear getting Alzheimer's and losing my sense of self or being dependent on someone for the rest of my life. I hate people who are narrow minded, unempathetic, manipulative, have no sense of right or wrong and those who harm animals. And those who follow the crowd without using their brain. And financial instability.
• What do the "highs" in your life look like?
A high would be a peaceful morning and a productive day.
• What do the "lows" in your life look like?
Lows are being stuck in a state of anxiety, stress, burnout and being financially unstable.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
I am often present in the reality and daydream rarely.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
I will think about.....all the things I would do if I get out of that room. I would also enjoy the quite and peace if its for a short time.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
I am very decisive and opiniated and also quite stubborn about it.
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
I tend to quickly process my emotions without thinking and act on them- only if I am at home or in front of my family. Emotions are important to me even though I try not to get them the best of me.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
Yes but if it is happening too often and I don't like it/them, I just leave.
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
As much as I detest authority, I still follow the rules for the sake of it. I would love to overthrow everything that is corrupted if I have the power, energy and the opportunity.

Kinda stuck on 31, 32 and floor 20. The mass of skeletons I can't ever get ahead of. The fucking FLOOD of spiders. I'm stumped having tried ice, fire, wind, point blank. Last chance is praying for a god-tier laser roll. Anything I might be missing?

First: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/14vo5lb/troublemakers_deaths_pity/
*previous:* https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1clhj0i/troublemakers_the_comfort_of_shared_pain/
......
The smell of instant coffee permeated the cab of the Hovercraft in the early morning light. Destrier's hand curled on the throttle as he picked up some speed, the hovering vehicle gliding over the rough dirt and gravel roads outside Golgotha as though it were smooth pavement. Cassius and Remin leaned against each other, dead asleep in the back seats. The early morning sun drew long shadows across the prairie as Caz gazed out into the wilderness from the front passenger seat. Tipping her mask up, she pulled from a thermos of strong black coffee. Drake had sent the four of them out ahead, saying he'd catch up shortly after they got out of Golgotha. Caz couldn't stop puzzling over how he'd do it. When she asked, he'd held up a bundle of leather straps and a threaded awl as if it had explained everything. Looking away from the window, she put the cap back on the thermos and sat back in the padded bucket seat of the hovercraft.
Something landed hard on top of the Hovercraft, making it shake and rattle as a dark shadow flitted over the windshield. Caz grabbed her Huntress assuming the worst as she saw a flash of purple. Destrier cursed, swerving slightly as the hovercraft was shoved down on one side, a massive purple shape leaping out ahead and just to the right of the hovercraft's original path.
Caz watched in stunned silence as Barney touched down in the soft, sandy dirt on the side of the road. Powerful, clawed hind legs digging into the soft soil as he ran alongside the road, a look of pure, primal ecstasy in those yellowish-gold eyes of his as he easily kept up with the hovercraft. That was impressive in its own right. What made it incredible was the custom-stitched leather halter and reins that were strapped around his head, the long leather reins leading back to the man on Barney's back, A tattered black cloak billowing out behind him.
Drake held onto Barney's reins with one hand, a leather pad with stirrups firmly affixed to the raptor's back with a girth strap. He sat a few inches off the saddle, leaning forward with his legs acting like shocks, his sword hand held off to the side and near the handle of his sword which had been strapped flat across the back of the saddle. There was a look Caz had never seen on the warrior's face before, a pure, unbridled joy. His eyes sparkled in the early morning light, mouth partway open in an expression of utter exhilaration. Caz watched as Drake shouted something, rubbing Barney's neck as he leaned farther forward. The raptor let out a bellowing screech and lowered its head toward the ground, pulling ahead of the hovercraft with ease and onto the gravel road ahead of them. Barney's long heavy tail flicked to the opposite side of the clawed foot that was being lifted with each galloping step, maintaining balance as he and Drake pulled farther and farther ahead of the hovercraft. Caz looked to Destrier who was looking between the duo ahead and the speedometer set into the dash.
"How fast are we going?"
Caz asked curiously as she watched Barney snap up some pour six-legged prairie creature as it ran across the road in front of him without slowing down. Destrier glanced over at Caz and then back at the speedometer.
"If this is correct... Little over a hundred and five kilometers an hour... Barney's fast..."
Caz looked at the duo up ahead who'd slowed to keep pace with the hovercraft roughly twenty meters ahead. She shook her head in plain disbelief despite the proof in front of her.
"That's not natural right?"
"Oh fuck no... and he's not even struggling, looks like he's having the time of his life to me!"
Destrier's eyes were wide with both disbelief and wonder, shaking his head slowly as he spoke, focusing on Drake and Barney as they veered off the road. Destrier cursed and took the hovercraft off the road, the vehicle rising and falling in a stomach-churning way as it slipped over the ditch to follow Drake and Barney toward some ruins out in the middle of the prairie. Something sparkled in the ruins ahead and suddenly Drake was yanked off of Barney's back by an unseen force, landing hard in the dirt and tumble-rolling to a stop as Destrier exclaimed.
"SHIT!"
Destrier slammed the throttle to zero before slamming the emergency shut-off button, sending the hovercraft thudding to the ground and skidding through the dirt as he pulled straight back on the steering yoke. Remin and Cassius were launched into the back of the front seats with exclamations of surprise as the hovercraft slowly slid to a stop, a few paces from where Drake was sitting up in the dirt, caked in dust and clutching his helmet. Caz did a double take as she leaped from the passenger seat, certain he wasn't wearing his helmet when he'd been struck by whatever had ripped him off Barney's back. She looked up to see if Barney had run off but the Purple Dinosaur was already circling back around at top speed. Caz crouched down by the stunned Drake, quickly checking him over for damage and spotting the large caliber tungsten penetrator wedged into the collar of his breastplate. Drake gently pushed her hands from his armor, getting to his feet with a grunt as Barney trotted up.
Drake was silent as he gently grabbed the halter by the reigns, putting a hand to the gnarly gash that ran down the side of Barney's face, splitting several of the thin leather straps that made up his halter. The raptor seemed oblivious to the wound as he nuzzled his large head into Drake's chest. Caz stood a respectful distance away as Drake touched the forehead of his helmet to Barney's forehead, Shoulders shivering as he finally let go of the raptor's halter. Turning to face the ruins Caz saw his eyes through the slits in his helmet, that bright sheen of exhilaration replaced with a cold, pale, flickering light as he held out a hand.
Caz jumped a little bit when Drake's sword ripped itself free from its scabbard, handle smacking into Drake's palm as he began to silently march towards the ruins. Caz had to jog to keep up with his rapid, long strides calling out.
"Did you see the sniper?! What if they try for another-"
Drake suddenly flicked his sword out to the side, Magnesium bright sparks splashing from it and filling the air as he growled.
"Remote turrets, Fucke-"
He was suddenly thrown onto his back with a loud wheeze as the air was knocked out of his lungs by another heavy tungsten penetrator that had lodged itself in his chest piece. Caz ducked and cursed as something made a deafening crack inches from her head, Drake scrambling to his feet. Tossing his word into the air, He gripped it behind the crossguard like a throwing spear and whipped it at the ruins. A cloud of dust puffed into the air as a mostly intact building collapsed screaming.
"TRY SHOOTING AT MY FUCKIN FRIENDS WHEN YOU CANT SEE SHIT ASSHOLE!"
Drake's shoulders heaved as he labouredly breathed, a palpable rage coming off of him as he held out his hand. A section of the perimeter wall exploded outwards as a silver streak shot toward Drake's hand, His sword smacking into his palm with an audible slap as he continued marching toward the ruins. Caz unshouldered her rifle with a curse, jogging after as the others ran to catch up, Barney joining Drake's side, feathers puffing up as he let out a low hiss, bringing his head so low to the ground that it was only inches from the dirt, his hot breath stirring up small dust clouds. as they all encroached on the ruined village. Caz scanned the ruins as they got closer, trying to peer through them with her new eyes, But everything was obscured by a deep purple static.
Returning her vision to standard, Caz looked around their surroundings, noting the desiccated and destroyed crops and demolished farm equipment. Grox skeletons lay tangled in their plow rigs like they'd been thrown by a great force. Clambering over the rubble of a destroyed section of the perimeter wall. Reaching the top, she saw Drake standing motionless in the middle of what must've been the town's main road. Slowly joining his side, she followed his gaze to a tall, gnarled tree, rotting human corpses strung up with nooses around the bloated corpse of an ornately dressed Geknosian. Wooden signs had been nailed to their chests, the text legible to her new eyes.
"Actions have consequences..."
Drake and Caz stated in unison, the warrior slowly removing his helmet. His eyes had the sparkle of crushed glass as he gently touched the scar that ran across his face. Caz looked at him, then the ruins around them as Barney snuffled around cautiously, before softly asking.
"What happened here, Drake?"
His sharp emerald eyes glided over the ruins, a heavy regret behind them as he almost whispered.
"I won the impossible challenge... I happened..."
The shame in his words spoke volumes as Caz tried to find the words to respond when a keening noise caught her ear. Her head snapped up, Drake having gone as stiff as a corpse, eyes filled with a broken kind of hope. The noise came again, louder this time, a child's wail of grief. Caz got a horrible gut feeling. She watched in near slow motion as Drake threw his helmet aside, sprinting towards the cry.
"Drake, wait!"
But whether he'd heard her or not, she hadn't a clue.
"Fucking idiot..."
She cursed and sprinted after him, barely managing to keep up, an incredulous shout from Destrier chasing them both. The keening cry got louder as they sprinted deeper into the city, locating the source of the noise, a small child with a golden slave collar bawled into her hands in front of an intact church. Drake tossed his sword to the side, a panicked, regretful look on his face as he rushed towards the child. The child looked up at the scarred man bearing down on her and shrieked, bolting through the ajar door of the church as Drake shouted.
"Wait! I'm not gonna hurt you! come back!"
He slammed through the doorway and disappeared inside the church. Caz followed, the bad feeling in her gut intensifying as she realized the stained glass windows depicted a massive Geknosian woman in gold armor upon a throne of chained figures. Caz stopped in the doorway, her fears confirmed.
The small woman stood in front of a petrified Drake, frozen with his hand extended like he was offering to help someone to their feet. His eyes were dull and lifeless, a chain of purple energy wrapped around his body affixed to his wrists and ankles by glowing golden shackles and manacles. The small woman, who'd easily passed for a child in dirty beggar's rags looked to Caz with a blank-eyed smile, donning a porcelain mask not dissimilar from Caz's own that they pulled from beneath their rags before tearing them away to reveal an armored bodysuit of deepest purple. A cold, cruel laugh came from the diminutive figure as Caz raised her Huntress.
"Uh, Uh, Uhhhhh!~ You wouldn't want to pull the trigger on a defenseless little girl, would you Caz?~"
Caz slid her crosshairs onto the diminutive woman's waggling finger and pulled the trigger, the Huntress barking as a tungsten penetrator ripped the woman's finger off. The woman fell to her knees screaming, clutching the bleeding ragged stump of her finger, looking away from it to hurl abuse but never getting the chance as Caz slammed the butt of her huntress into the small woman's head. The woman whimpered and crawled backward toward the altar as Caz growled.
"You are no child, and I am not as lenient as him."
Caz had barely set her finger on the trigger stud when the small woman grabbed something from behind the altar. A white and gold metal glaive expanded from the smaller woman's hand and smacked the barrel of Caz's huntress away from her face as the weapon discharged, punching a hole straight through a visage of Conquest.
...
Drake looked around at his lavish surroundings, something had gone terribly wrong. He touched his face, looking around as he smoothed his hair back nervously, a habit he'd thought long broken. He froze, his arm was scrawny and thin, with pale skin devoid of scars. Drake heard a cough from behind him and slowly turned around, looking up at a massive female Geknosian with golden armor. The deity sat atop a throne made from the twisted, chained bodies of slaves as she leaned on a Warhammer, eyes filled with hunger as she slowly stood to her full twenty-foot height.
"Feeling weak, little reaper? wondering where all that wonderful power you had went? Well, you won't be able to use that here, not in my domain."
Drake slowly recognized the armored Geknosian, a deep fear pulsing through his body as she took a thunderous step forward.
"Conquest..."
He whispered and the goddess laughed caustically.
"In the flesh... Boy."
He didn't even see her move, the golden warhammer crashing into his right side, deforming the many plates of his lorica as he felt bones snap and sinew tear. He gagged up blood as the wind was knocked out of him upon a flat impact with the thick stone walls.
"And you're in my house now, Death's angel~"
Conquest took a slow rumbling step toward Drake's prone figure, the low rumbling laugh shaking his being to the core as he forced himself to rise to his feet. His right arm hung limply at his side, looking as though it had a few new joints. Drake looked up at the evil Goddess and gritted his teeth, The moment she disappeared from his view, he leaped forward, the ground exploding behind him from the impact of the golden hammer's head. A large chunk of stone floor slammed into his gut and he hurdled across the room, crashing into the marble steps to the throne. Stars popped in front of his eyes, the edges of his vision clouding with black mist. He tried to blink it away, the blurry visage of conquest slowly drawing closer, a deep, sinister chuckle vibrating his aching body. He dared not blink, Dared not open himself up for an easy blow. The hammer rose to the sky as Conquest wound up for another crushing blow, a grin of sharp white teeth spreading across her face. Drake tried to pull himself out of the way, but his arm gave out underneath him, legs refusing to move as the stone pinning his gut held him down. The blunt face of the hammer filled his vision as it came swinging down. Was this the end? after he'd made it so far, fought so hard to free his people...
Drake reluctantly closed his eyes, unable to bear the shame.
A shockwave battered his body, making him flinch. But he didn't feel any pain, in a matter of fact, he felt quite the opposite, a soft trickle of vitality refreshed his body as he opened his eyes.
A man in old, green camouflage fatigues stood with his hand outstretched, stopping the crushing hammer head against his palm, form misty and transparent like a ghost as he turned his head with a familiar rogueish smile.
"Lookin a little rough son, think you might've bit off more than you can chew?"
Alexander Dragoline quipped, disregarding the mad god he defied with naught but a lifted palm. A soft, warm hand gently caressed his face making him look up into his mother's kind eyes. He lifted his right arm as thorny rose vines latticed their way down it, the bruised skin and broken bones mending before his very eyes. Conquest's hammer lifted away, a look of cold rage on her face as she glared at the man. Alexander met the gaze with a soft laugh as he stared back at Conquest with a mad glint in his eyes.
"Guardians... I should have known... you humans are so predictable."
Conquest spat with a vitriol that could boil seas. Alexander grinned wildly as Drake found the strength to shove the rock off his stomach, the latticework of climbing rose vines covering his entire body, weaving in and out of the warped gaps in his chest plate. Drake looked up at his mother's softly smiling face, the rose-shaped birthmark on her face glowing warmly as she whispered.
"I'm proud of you, Of how far you've come. Don't give up now, let us do what parents should always do..."
His mother glowed brightly, her form shattering and reforming into a slim necklace with a beautiful black rose encased in glass for a pendant. It flashed from existence, appearing around his neck, the dried, flexible vine warm as a loving hug.
"...and protect our child from harm."
Drake looked at his father, eyes misty as his Dad put his fists on his hips, a proud smile adorning his face. He stuck out his hand asking.
"Ready to kick some divine ass, son?"
Accepting the offered hand, Drake pulled himself to his feet as his father began to glow, shattering into shards that reformed into the sword Drake had carried since the arena.
"Yeah... I am, Dad..."
"Good, Kick her in the snatch for me."
Conquest tapped the hammer's shaft against her palm as Drake stood to his full height, that hungry grin reappearing.
"This changes nothing child... two measly mortal souls, no matter how convicted, cannot match divinity."
Drake raised Alexandros with a grin, shifting into the comfortable peasant's grip he knew by heart. The dismissive tone of Conquest's voice only stoked the familiar, comfortably warm nuclear sun of rage in his chest. The climbing rose vines forming a crown of black roses atop his head as he started marching forward with a lopsided grin. The dark goddess letting out a low, curious growl.
"You're approaching me? How brave."
Drake continued marching, winding up for a Horizontal cut as the fires of rage filled his being, tamed by his mother's bleeding heart and guided by his father's battle-hardened hands.
"I can't kick your ass without getting closer."
Conquest wound up her hammer, letting it swing with an eager shout.
"Then get as close as you like foolish boy!"
......
Part 104: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cnuyl1/troublemakers_the_son_of_witch_and_warrio

 
Optimizing WooCommerce Checkout Experience
 The role of effective field management in WooCommerce checkout forms is pivotal in ensuring a seamless and efficient user journey. A well-defined placeholder for the billing email field serves not only as a guide for customers but also as a tool for reducing input errors and enhancing data accuracy. This strategic move goes beyond mere aesthetics; it directly impacts the conversion rate and overall customer satisfaction. By setting clear expectations for the information required, businesses can significantly lower the barriers to completing a purchase.
 Moreover, customizing placeholders within WooCommerce fields reflects a deeper understanding of user interface design principles. It demonstrates an attentive approach to user experience, signaling to customers that their ease of navigation and interaction is a priority. Such refinements, while subtle, contribute to a positive brand perception and can differentiate a WooCommerce store in a competitive online marketplace. Implementing these customizations requires minimal effort but promises substantial returns in terms of user engagement and satisfaction.
 
Common Questions on WooCommerce Checkout Customization
 
 
Question: How do I add a placeholder to the WooCommerce checkout billing email field?
 
Answer: You can add a placeholder by using the 'woocommerce_checkout_fields' filter to modify the checkout fields array in your theme's functions.php file.
 
Question: Will adding a placeholder affect the responsiveness of my checkout page?
 
Answer: No, adding a placeholder is a front-end change that does not affect the responsiveness of your checkout page.
 
Question: Can I customize placeholders for other checkout fields as well?
 
Answer: Yes, you can customize placeholders for any checkout field using the same method.
 
Question: Is it necessary to have coding knowledge to add a placeholder?
 
Answer: Basic knowledge of PHP and WordPress hooks is required, but detailed guides and code snippets are available to help.
 
Question: Will this customization be preserved after a WooCommerce update?
 
Answer: Since the customization is added via your theme's functions.php file or a site-specific plugin, it should remain unaffected by WooCommerce updates.
 
Question: Can placeholders be translated into different languages?
 
Answer: Yes, placeholders can be translated using the appropriate text domain for internationalization.
 
Question: Does adding a placeholder improve checkout conversion rates?
 
Answer: While direct effects on conversion rates can vary, a clearer and more intuitive checkout process can positively impact user experience and potentially increase conversions.
 
Question: How can I test the effectiveness of a new placeholder?
 
Answer: A/B testing tools and feedback from user experience testing can help evaluate the impact of new placeholders on the checkout process.
 
 
Key Takeaways for WooCommerce Store Optimization
 Enhancing the checkout process by customizing input fields, particularly the billing email field, is a small yet impactful change that can significantly improve the user experience in a WooCommerce store. This adjustment aids in reducing user errors, clarifying expected input, and streamlining the checkout process. The introduction of a placeholder guides customers effectively, making the process more intuitive. This strategy not only contributes to higher conversion rates by minimizing cart abandonment but also reinforces the brand's commitment to customer satisfaction. Implementing such thoughtful details reflects well on the brand, suggesting a level of care and attention that customers appreciate. Ultimately, in the competitive landscape of eCommerce, it's these nuances that can set a store apart, encouraging customer loyalty and promoting a positive shopping experience. By focusing on user-friendly design and clear communication, store owners can create a seamless checkout experience that benefits both the business and its customers.
 https://www.tempmail.us.com/en/woocommerce/adding-a-custom-placeholder-to-the-woocommerce-checkout-email-field
 https://www.tempmail.us.com/
 ​
 

Script Bloat
I believe I have script bloat. People are not talking, some prompts are not showing up, some books are blank and it resolves itself after a restart.
I am not very experience in resolving script bloat. Are there any mods that I should be staying away from? Are there any that I should swap out? Does the micro script optimizer in Reconciliation have an effect? Is there a good trouble shoot technique instead? Thanks! XB Series X
Except for the bloat, the below LO is pretty good and stable. I do have a few issues such as an occasional floating sign, some people don’t wear shoes and tree moss hanging in air.

Master Files

USSEP
Simple Workaround Framework
Reconciliation: QOL and Bugfix
Reconciliation: AE (updated)
Lanterns of Skyrim II 1k
Campfire: Complete Camping System
Weapons Armor Clothing and Clutter Fixes
Myrwatch CC – Editable Home Cell
Bittercup – Tweaks and Enhancements
JK',s Solitude Outskirts
Survival Mode Carry Weight set spell
Survival Rebalance
Gore – A Companion Mod (V 1.61

Master File Patches

Reconciliation: QOL - USSEP
Reconciliation: AE – USSEP patch
LoS II – USSEP Patch
LoS II – Campfire Addon

Cheat Functions

Cheat Room (XB1)
Quest Debugger (XB1)
DMH Busty Skeevers (I set alchemy to 50%)
Cheat Room – Anniversary Patch

Foundations/Low Conflict

Geometric Stat Growth
Simple Weapon Rebalance
Creation Club - Adjustments
Armor Affects Casting (SWF)
Shields Affects Casting (SWF)
VPEZ Weapon Rebalance 2024
VPEZ Armor Rebalance 2024
Tidy Up
NARC – No Animals Report
Every Dog is a good boy
Creatures Lift
Field Medic
Misc Dialogue Edits & More

Race Record Changes

Race Abilities Enhanced (Skyrim – RAE)

Perks, Magic & Leveling Changes

Ordinator – Perks of Skyrim
50% Perk Points
Quests Award Perk Points
Skill Learning Cooldown
Apocalypse – Magic of Skyrim
Odin – Skyrim Magic Overhaul (SWF)

Patches

Apocalypse – Ordinator
Odin - Ordinator

Items Obtained By Crafting

Wearable Lanterns
Cloaks of Skyrim
Bandoliers Bags + Pouches NPC AE

Patches

Bandoliers B+P – NPC Editions + Cloaks
Cloaks of Skyrim – Survival Mode Patch

Enemy NPC Level

Skyrim Revamped – Complete Enemy Overhaul
Know Your Enemy – All in One

Patches

Skyrim Revamped Rebalanced and…
WACCF - SRCEO

Loot Leveled List

Skyrem Loot Overaul (LORA)
Tomes of Arcane Knowledge

Item Attribute & Effect Changes

Conjurer’s Forge 4
Skyrem Evolving Value Economy
C.O.I.N. – Coins of Interesting

Patches

Conjurer’s Forge 4 AE Patch
CF4 – USSEP
Reconciliation QOL – CF4 Patch
Reconciliation AE – CF4 Patch
CF4 – Ordinator Patch
CF4 – Apocalypse Patch
CF4 – Odin with Apocalypse Patch
C.O.I.N. – LORA Loot Overhaul Patch
CF4 No Ores on ground Patch
Summermyst – Leveled List Fixes

UI

SWF: Tailor SWF
NORDIC UI SWF HUD
Bad Compass

Vanilla Quest Alterations

Gildergreen Regrow
Creation Club Farming – Tweaks Enhancements
In the Shadow of the Crown – No Stone Unturned Alteranative
Insightful Shalidor',s Insi…
Jayserpa'S Quest Expansion

Audio

Audio SFX Overhaul – No Voices
Sounds of Dawn

Weather

Autumn Skies
SSE – Skyrim Sun Enhanced
Wonders of Weather

Patches

SOD +Autumn Skies

Grass *see LOD

Mesh & Textures

Architecture & Landscape

FANTASIA LANDSCAPES
Tamriel Reloaded - Architecture
Divergence – Dwemer Metal
Glowing Mushroom Collision fix

Creatures & Wildlife

Divergence – Compendium of Beast

Weapons, Armor Clothing

Divergence – Vanilla + Creation Club AIO - 1K-512
Improved Closedfaced Helmets
Female Vanilla Underwear (Grey)

Patches

WACCF – Improved Closefaced
Improved closefaced helmets USSEP Patch
Divergence – Improved Closedfaced

Clutter & Misc

Divergence – Myriad of Miscellaneous
Elsopa HD Hand Painted Road Signs

Effects

Natural Forces Bundle – Dry
Fire HD
TB’s Lil Details
Really Seriously Improved Sparks

NPC AI Alterations

AI Overhaul 1.8.2 Lite
Jayserpa'S Misc MOD Bundle
Survival Mode Lowers Follower Carry Weight
Innkeepers Don’t Escort
Run For Your Lives
Followers Can Relax XB1

NPC & Player Interactions

(Updated) Yappers of Temriel
Voiced Narrative AE AIO
Follower Dialogue Expansion - Erik
Serana Expanded – Dialogue

Patches

Yappers Of Tamriel – Wild Horses

Follower Framework

Underwhelming Multiple Followers
Remove Follower Cap

New Animal Companions & Mounts

Fairies (Lite Edition)
Dwarven Luggage

New Followers & Named NPCs

Remiel-Custom Voiced Dwemer Specialist
Song of the Green (Auri Follower)

Combat

Bushcraft: A Camping and Survival
Agonistic Combat

Patches

Bushcraft – USSEP Patch
Reconciliation QOL – Bushcraft
Reconciliation AE – Bushcraft
CF4 – Bushcraft Patch
[XB] Dirt and blood script fix

Cooking (to overwrite all previous recipes)

Gourmet – A cooking overhaul
Brewer – An Alcohol Brewing Mod
Daken',s Yummy Dragon Heart
Survival Mode Coffees

Patches

Gourmet – USSEP Patch
Gourmet - Brewer Patch

NPC’s

Face Replacers

Bella Beaty and the Beasts (107mb)
Tragedian’s Fabulous Followers

Body Meshes and Skin Textures

Pyrokess
Vanilla Apparel for Pyrokees

Beards, Brows & Hairs

Superior Lore-Friendly Hair

Overwrites

Male Underwear Replacer
Auri Re-Imagined UNP
Seranaholic 1.8
Deadlier Serana 1.8

Patches

Fabulous Followers – USSEP Patch
Fabulous Followers – Deadly Serana

Idles and Animations

360 Walk and Run Standalone
The Ultimate Dodge Mod Reborn
Comprehensive First Person Animations
Gritty Animations Requiem 2.0
Vanargand Animations: Female

Skeleton

XP32 Maximum Skeleton Special
Belt-fastened Quivers – XPMSSE Edition
Wear Multiple Rings

Area Edits

Exterior

Spaghetti’s AIO / Capitals and Towns of Skyrim
Hold Border Guards Anniversary
Ryn’s Farm AiO
Ryn’s Standing Stones AiO
Ryn’s Dragon Mounds AiO
Hero- A Fort Takeover And Bounty
Wintersun – Faiths of Skyrim AE
Spaghetti’s Orc Strongholds

Patches

Ryn’s Standing Stones – Ryn’s Farms
Reconciliation QOL – STIGR VIRDING
Bushcraft – Winterson Patch

Single Area Edits

Fortified Whiterun Compatibility
JK’s Whiterun Outskirts
JK’s Markarth Outskirts
Myrwatch – Tweaks and Enchancem….
Tundra Homestead Improved Exterior
[XB1] Better Courier
Books of Skyrim SE – Redux

Patches

JK’s Solitude Outskirts & CC Fishing
JK’s Solitude Outskirts & Lanterns of Skyrim II

JK’s Whiterun Outskirts & CC Tundra House
JK’s Whiterun Outskirts & CC Fishing
JK’s Whiterun Outskirts & USSEP
Jk’s Whiterun Outskirts & Lanterns of Skyrim II
JK’s Whiterun Outskirts & Hold Borders
JK’s Whiterun Outskirts & Better Courier
JK’s Markarth Outskirts & CC Fishing
JK’s Markarth Outskirts & Lanterns

Unique Items Added to Locations

Summermyst Enchantments – Guarantee locations

New Quest Mods with Area Edits

EasierRider’s Dungeon Pack XB1
Luftahraan Dungeon Pack XB1
East Empire Expansion
Legendary Dungeons
Echoes of the Vale

Trees & Flora with Area Edits

Trees of Iduna main
Cathedral 3d Plants AIO
Flora Additions – Water Plants
DAWN Waters W/natural waterfalls

LOD (Level of Detail) & Map Mods

Cathedral Grass Standalone (contains LOD)

Grass Patches

Landscape fixes for grass mods
No Grassias Extended
Mefariah’s Grass Fixes for Creation
Reconciliation: AE – Landscape fixes
JK’s Whiterun Outskirts & Landscape Fixes

Interior Lighting

Updated – Enhanced Lights & FX
Jk’s Interiors AIO

Patches

LoS II – Enhanced Lights and FX
JK’s Interiors AIO CC Patch Bundle
JK’s Interiors AIO USSEP Patch
JK’s Interiors AiO LoS2 Patch
JK’s Interiors AiO Cloaks of Skyrim
JK’s Interiors AIO ELFX Patch

Ini (Settings) Changes

ELFX Shadows
Glow No More (0% Version)
No Horizontal Glow FX

Patches

ELFX Shadows – USSEP Patch
Reconciliation – ELFX Patch
ELFX Shadows – JK’s Interiors AIO

Bottom of LO Required

Alternate Start – Live Another Life
New beginnings
Humble Beginnings for Alternate start

Patches

Misc & More – Alternate
JK’s Markarth Outskirts & Alternate Start
ELFX Shadows – Alternate start
JK’s Interiors AIO Alt Start Patch
JK’s Solitude Outskirts & Alternate Start
At Your Own Pace (USSEP version)
Relationship Dialogue Overhaul

Patches

RDO - USSEP Patch
Underwhelming Multiple Followers: USSEP + RDO
Jk’s Interiors AIO - RDO

Disabled Records

Skyrim Creature Adjustments

Respect The Predators from Rage War!

For centuries Weyland-Yutani has tried to weaponize the Xenomorphs. Now someone has beaten them to it, sweeping through Yautja space and turning predator into prey. Faced with the overwhelming forces of the Rage, Earth envoys forge an unprecedented alliance with the Predators. Yet even the combined might of two races may not be enough to stop the carnage, as an unstoppable swarm of Xenomorphs topples planet after planet, penetrating ever deeper into the Human Sphere.The Rage launch the ultimate assault on the Human Sphere. Their greatest weapons are the most fearsome creatures in the galaxy—the Xenomorphs. Their ultimate target is Earth. Having fled centuries before as The Founders, they return anew known as The Rage to take revenge and claim the planet for their own. The fate of the Earth may rest with a single android—Liliya of the Rage.

Disclaimer: I will add citations at the end of every feat from their respective novels to prevent any confusion.

• Predator Incursion=PI
• Alien Invasion=AI
• Alien Vs Predator Armageddon=AVPA

Strength

• Predator rips a human in two and tosses one half across the room.^PI
  
• A Predator named Shamana bust through a wall and moved sheet metal aside and apprehended McMahon taking her away to make her into a trophy.^PI
  
• Yautja wield energy weapons as large as an average human and weigh about the same with complete ease.^AVPA
  
• A Yautja, after tearing through numerous Xenomorphs, is able to pin a combat android into a wall and tear him apart before succumbing to his wounds.^PI
  
  • The Combat Androids from the Rage have a titanium skeleton.^AI

Speed

• A Predator evades most of the nano rounds fired from a com rifle that seek out their targets and eliminate said targets with a thousand explosives. The Predator is only slightly wounded from the numerous blast.^PI
  Scaling
  
• Xenomorphs move in a blur. A blur of "sharp edges and shadow"^AVPA
  
• The Xenomorphs were described as inconceivably fast.^AVPA
  

Durability

• Predator potentially tanks nano-rifle fire and was able to keep hunting (would die eventually to the VoidLark squad). WY Chairman Marshall has seen the weapon test fire and described it as "immense" and "horrific".^PI
  
  • scaling with a human sidearm laser pistol that can slice a rock in two and turn a human head into red-mist.^PI
• A Yautja is hit with a nano-bot charge that sends countless nano-bots towards its target igniting into a thousand small explosions and is only wounded not killed. The other Yautja survives a laser shot and is shot by a another skillfully placed laser shot but potentially survived as the text didn't confirm the second Yautja was killed either.^PI
  
• Predator tanks a micro-dot spray and is pissed off.^PI
  
  • Micro-dot sprays are stated to be more dangerous than a nano-shot from the com-rifle.PI
  • Nano-shot from a com-rifle can shred Xenomorphs apart. ^PI
  • Nano-shots can kill up to seven Xenomorphs at once. ^AI
• A Predator tanks multiple laser blast that knock her down and is able to get up and keep fighting.^PI
  
  • Human laser weapons in Rage War can cut Xenomorphs in two or blast them apart.^PI
  • Laser splits a Xenomorph in half again.^AI

Skill/Experience

• Two Yautja were able to kill two squad mates of VoidLarks and 20 or more staff members on a research station 10 of which were hired mercenaries.^PI
  
  • The 5th Excursionists codenamed the "VoidLarks" led by Johnny Mains gear and weapons. ^PI
• After reviewing a old photograph from WW2 Stalingrad with futuristic tech, Angela Svenlap is able to determine that the Predator hunting there had a confirmed kill count of 28 with a potential hundred more.^PI
  
• A Predator kills a Mercenary who switched to infrared in quick succession.^PI
  
• Hashori full fight with a Rage Xenomorph. She pins it to a wall with her spear and ending it with a plasma caster shot.^PI
  
  • Rage Xenomorphs are more dangerous than standard Xenomorphs as they are more coordinated courtesy of the Rages Combat Androids and they self-destruct after death sending acid blood everywhere.
• Yautja kills numerous Xenomorphs and while dying, is able to pin a combat android into a wall and tear him apart before succumbing to his wounds.^PI
  
  • The Rages Combat Android Generals are ten times Liliyas equal in a fight, are equipped with every military scrap/tactics in human history, and can command two thousand Xenomorphs with a single thought. ^PI
    • Combat Androids were equipped with sidearm pistols that were powerful enough to put a hole in the Rages lead/main ship the Macbeth.^PI
  • The Yautja somehow knew the Androids had self-destruct nukes in their bodies and he stabbed the Android with precision so it could not set the bomb off. ^PI
• A Yautja saves humans from a leaping Xenomorph.^AVPA
  
• Despite the human controls for the human ship should've been alien to her, the female Yautja Hashori was able to use the human controls with ease.^AVPA
  
• A group of Yautja cuts through a dozen Xenomorphs as effectively as cannon blasts from a destroyer.^AVPA
  
• Major Sergei Budanov states that although he has seen and was in awe of martial art experts (masters of both past and future martial arts) in his company even in zero-gravity/weightlessness, the Yautja were something else. ^AVPA
  
  • If a war between humanity and the Yautja broke out in the year 2692 AD? Major Sergei Budanov would bet on the Yautja. ^AVPA
• Kalakta. The Elder. The Leader. He did not need the other warriors to protect him, because their honor and sense of power wouldn't allow them to denigrate him so. He scored his fair share of kills. ^AVPA
  

GeaWeapons

• Predator cloak can bypass Johnny Mains squads suit sensors as well as sneak up on the team as well as Johnny Mains drone.(Predator dies from a point blank plasma shot.)^PI
  
  • Stated that if the Yautja wanted to hide from sensors. They can and will. ^AI
• Hashori carries canisters that neutralizes/stops the effects of the Xenomorphs acidic blood.^AVPA
  
• Predators have gadgets that can confuse Colonial Marine weapons.^PI
  
• For torture, the Yautja use whips that have insect eggs inside said whips that hatch insects that bore into their victims.^PI
  

Ships

• Yautja personnel fighters can go FTL. The Yautja ships can also bypass ship scanners/sensors for surprise attacks via by their cloaking.^PI
  
  • Johnny Mains ship the Ochses scanners.^PI
• If you see seven Yautja ships, there's a good chance there might actually be seventy.^PI
  
• Yautja build their own personal ships to their liking. Cloaking can bypass advanced Rage ship sensors.^PI
  
• The Yautja ships have nuclear options as well as eon pulses that emit brightness brighter than any sun and destroys a capital Rage ship. ^AVPA
  

Two years ago, Corey Vash got abducted by aliens, and a few months after that, he saved the universe -even if it was mostly on accident. Thanks to the skills of his new bounty hunter friends and no small amount of luck, Corey Vash saved the day, but hero status isn’t all its cracked up to be. The parades and the free drinks are over, leaving the bounty hunters with nothing but the expectations of a frightened universe and the overbearing attention of governments who want picture perfect heroes the only mostly sober crew aren’t cut out to be. With the shadow of another invasion still looming, a murderous new threat starts to stalk their every move, forcing Corey and the crew of the Wild Card Wanderer to move past the mess of bullets, booze, and blind luck that’s kept them alive and become actual heroes -even if they aren’t very good at it.
[First Book][Previous Chapter][Cover Art][Patreon][Next Chapter]
Quid’s office was not very big, befitting a man who was not very big, at least not in any way that mattered. Physically speaking, Quid was actually pretty large, but only by virtue of coming from a naturally large species. The man himself was small: had a small personality, a small presence, a small spirit. If he vanished tomorrow and was replaced by another bookkeeping nerd, the world would not blink at his absence. He didn’t even have houseplants that would wither and die without him to water them.
Kamak kept all those thoughts to himself. Quid was, at least, very polite and helpful. A lot of the paper-pusher types got aggro about their “administrative prowess” or were sticklers for the rules, but Quid did no such things, so Kamak put up with him. Even if he was a freak without a hobby. Kamak didn’t trust anyone without a hobby.
“Well, Mr. Kamak, what brings you here?”
Entirely nonplussed by the unannounced arrival of his client, Quid pushed aside some paperwork on his desk and beckoned for Kamak to take a seat. Kamak sat down in the stiff, uncomfortable chairs of a man who knew no one would ever be sitting in his office longer than absolutely necessary.
“Listen Quid, we need to talk about the type of contracts you’ve been feeding me lately.”
“Before we get started, there’ll be another military emplacement installed on Centerpoint today, is that ceremony something you’d be interested in?”
“No, Quid, that exact kind of thing is the problem,” Kamak snapped. “I’m not a professional party guest, I’m a bounty hunter.”
“We do have a number of manhunting contracts available, one from the Tightfit Lugnut company just-”
“I don’t want to do that shit either, Quid,” Kamak snapped. “I don’t want to gun down a guy for selling patented lugnut designs, I want to hunt thieves and murderers.”
“Intellectual property theft is still theft, Mr. Kamak.”
“You know damn well that’s not what I meant,” Kamak said.
“I’m not sure I do,” Quid said. He looked down at his desk to scan his datapad, and all the potential contracts listed on it. “These are premium contracts, Kamak, other bounty hunters would beg for work like this.”
“Then let them beg for it, I want to do something different.”
“Different how? You’ll need to communicate more clearly, Mr. Kamak,” Quid said. “You’re turning down combat and non-combat contracts, low risk, high reward-”
“It’s not about combat or not, easy or not,” Kamak said. “I want to do...I don’t know, something good.”
Someone scoffed at that. It wasn’t Quid. The desk worker looked up from his files as Kamak whipped around in his chair to face a third man in the room. They looked a lot like a taller, sleeker human, but with wirey limbs and a narrow, curved torso that gave them a serpentine appearance. Kamak wondered if the horizontal, bar-shaped pupils were a natural species trait or some kind of cybernetic enhancement. There was a glimmer in their golden eyes he didn’t like.
“And who the fuck are you supposed to be?”
“A professional,” their new guest said.
“Oh, the sleek and mysterious routine, nice,” Kamak said. “Get the fuck out of here.”
The smug smile on the “professional’s” face dropped for a second. He was disappointed to see that Kamak’s abrasive reputation was well earned.
“No, I don’t think I will,” the Professional said. “On the other hand: Quid, get out. Me and ‘Mr. Kamak’ need to talk privately.”
“It’s his office, asshat,” Kamak said. In spite of that, Quid collected his things and hastily excused himself from the small office. The professional swung around the desk and stole Quid’s chair. He sank into the desk chair and then put his feet up on Quid’s desk. Kamak stared at him blankly.
“So, since you apparently insist on interjecting yourself into my business, I’ll ask again,” Kamak said. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?”
“Like I said, I’m a professional,” he hissed. “For the purposes of this conversation, though...let’s just establish one important fact. A few years ago, you vaporized an entire invading army.”
The professional put his feet down and leaned forward on the desk, hands folded together.
“And my body count is still higher than yours.”
Kamak rolled his eyes so hard his whole head rolled with them.
“Give me a fucking name or for the rest of this conversation I’m going to call you Shitslut.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really, Shitslut,” Kamak said. “I don’t care if it’s your real name or your black-ops handle or your edgy codename like Murdersword the Exterminator or whatever, just give me a name to work with here.”
The Professional stared Kamak down. Kamak didn’t blink.
“Fine. Call me Ghost,” he said.
“As in Ghost of Licoa?”
Now it was Ghost’s turn to not blink.
“Maybe,” he said slyly.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kamak said. “I always thought they made you up, cover for some black ops operation nonsense. You really kill all thirteen of those fuckers?”
The revolution on Licoa had been thoroughly complicated by the royal family’s nuclear arsenal, and their proven willingness to use them -right up until all thirteen members had been brutally murdered in a matter of cycles, despite being miles apart in separate secret bunkers. It was a resounding victory for democracy, and resulted in Licoa joining the Galactic Council, which everyone was so happy about that they all casually overlooked that three of the thirteen dead royals were children.
“If I did, I couldn’t confirm or deny it,” Ghost said. “Unless of course I killed you afterwards.”
“Well I’m not that fucking curious,” Kamak said. “About that, at least. Why the fuck are you here, ‘Ghost’?”
“To put a matter to rest with a discussion among professionals,” Ghost said. “And to get you to stop harassing the poor desk clerk, of course.”
“Hmm. Let me take a guess, then,” Kamak said. “It’s not just a coincidence I’m getting fed all these bullshit jobs, then?”
“Good guess,” Ghost said with a smile. “But don’t think of them as ‘bullshit jobs’. Think of them as a retirement plan. Easy jobs, big money. Attend some parties, save some money, buy a nice house on a beach somewhere and enjoy a long retirement.”
The smile dropped off Ghost’s face, and he leaned forward on the desk.
“Soon.”
Kamak glared right over the desk, lips curled into a tight frown.
“You want to muscle me out.”
“We didn’t want to muscle anything,” Ghost said. “It was a gentle push, you just got stubborn about it.”
“Why the fuck am I getting angled out anyway?” Kamak demanded. “I save the fucking universe after forty years of perfectly good bounty hunting-”
“Good bounty hunting,” Ghost corrected. “Not perfectly good. Just good.”
He folded his hands together and sighed dramatically.
“You’re sloppy, Kamak,” Ghost continued. “You make messes, you piss people off, get people killed, you stack skeletons in your closet like nobody’s business. All perfectly acceptable for rank and file bounty hunters, of course, the expendable little people, but for the most famous bounty hunter in the universe? Not a good look, Kamak.”
Kamak sat silently and waited for the rant to continue. People like the Ghost loved to hear themselves talk. They’d always say more if you let them.
“Forty years, you’re on what, twenty, thirty fellow crewmembers dead?” Ghost asked. “No one gave a shit when you got some nobody’s killed -or crippled.”
For the first time in the conversation, Kamak’s face twitched with genuine anger. His first pilot was still stuck in a wheelchair. That wasn’t Kamak’s fault, but only a few people knew that.
“But what’s it going to look like when you charge in like an idiot and get the universe’s first human visitor killed, huh,” Ghost continued. “Tooley’s on magazine covers now, ‘Greatest Pilot in the Universe’, they say. What’s going to happen when you get her shot in the face, like you did your sixth pilot?”
Kamak actually scowled now. That one had been his fault. Ghost sensed the moment of vulnerability and grabbed Quid’s datapad, turning it around to display the list of handpicked, easy jobs to Kamak.
“Do the jobs, take the money, and enjoy your retirement,” Ghost said. “Sit on a beach and watch the sun rise on a universe that will only ever remember you as a hero.”
Kamak stared down at the datapad. The ceremony for the military installation on Centerpoint was still displayed.
“Hell of a grateful universe,” Kamak said.
“Hell of a grateful hunter,” Ghost said. “Easy money and an early retirement, and you’re complaining. Most bounty hunters don’t get to retire period, much less retire rich and beloved.”
“You know damn well this isn’t about the money,” Kamak said.
“Then what is it, Kamak? Your reputation? Your pride?” Ghost scoffed. “Because it’s all downhill from here for both of those too.”
Kamak looked down at the job listing, and then back up at Ghost.
“One more question,” Kamak said. “You and whatever shadowy cabal of assholes you work for want me to retire. Or what?”
“Or what?” Ghost said. “We’d prefer to avoid the bad press from your inevitable failure, but we’ll get through it. We’re not going to assassinate you, Kamak, just sit back and watch you ruin your own life.”
“Then enjoy the fucking show,” Kamak said. He stood up and pushed his chair hard enough to knock it over. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Ghost shook his head and clicked his tongue disdainfully.
“I told them that’s what you’d say.”
Kamak ignored the final jab and walked out of the office, slamming the door so hard the fallen chair rattled. A few seconds later, he unslammed it and shoved his head back through the door.
“And get the fuck out of Quid’s office!”
Then he slammed the door again, for good this time.