Hey all,
I do have a particpant listed under "awaiting review" and he/she used the completion code "didn't give consent". The Person was asked to Return the Submission. Our study is currently paused which means the Submission Return has to be done manually as explained here:
https://researcher-help.prolific.com/hc/en-gb/articles/360009092394-Approvals-rejections-returns#h_01HA4QHJX2BK3GXCW0Y9VRRSS3
All this information has been send to the particpant.
The Submission is Close to being Auto-approved - prolific approves Submissions after 21 days automatically. My Question: since the Person has used a "didn't give consent" finishing code, will it still be Auto Approved? Do I have to reject it? Or will it rather be auto returned after 21 days?
Someone knows?

Hello,
I was trying to find my transaction ID then I noticed that I can't find email from noreply@mojang.com. I found this website: https://help.minecraft.net/hc/en-us/articles/360029977371-What-is-a-Transaction-ID-#h\_01H44FNFEQR8DF9QVVKD4XKQ8H which suggested to, quate: "If you lost your Braintree transaction ID, we can attempt to verify the purchase if you provide us with the cardholder name, date of purchase...". The problem is - who are we, how should I initially get, of all thing, my Braintree transaction id, and how should I give them my card information. There are no live support, no othe blogs about this, only this one paragrath
Looking foward for your suggestions

I've been wondering for so long and I've never been told and now there's the new update and my boy Reth told me about the broken table but I still don't get what to do someone
h e l p

Changes made: reinforced the buttons inside with drops of hot glue changed the dpad for one of the Wii U Gamepad, being higher than the original dpad, therefore making it more comfortable to handle. Changed ABXY buttons for those on the Wii U Gamepad, which are wider and have a better feel. painted white letters on buttons put cap on left stick Official Anbernic grip for the Rg405m trimmed and painted black on the inside. Made holes for a clean sound output and cut the top part because it bothers when pressing the volume and power buttons. With this grip in place, the console really becomes very ergonomic to hold, console style controller. 

SS:
PDF of I/P section (~200kb, 6p)
Are there any (significant) new ones?
I wonder how people making these points would respond to

'Why are you regurgitating the manifesto of a Cuba/NK-sponsored Marxist terrorist group from the 1970s? You're too young to be Running On Empty)...

(Full PDF (~5mb, 163p))

Ik heb altijd uhm, een bepaalde gereserveerdheid gekend niet wetende wat de sociale norm is of wellicht beter geformuleerd, ik, in persoonlijke omstandigheden vind het vaak moeilijk in een groep aangezien ik uhm, in één op één situatieschetsen me beter kan toeleggen of de aandacht vestigen richting één persoon, een totaal genuanceerd beeld probeer te bewerkstelligen vooraleer eens ik een besluit zou nemen er een wereldreis mee te kunnen maken. Want iemand waar je zo'n reis mee maakt daar wil je je leven voor wagen en wil je op kunnen bouwen. Daar kunnen inspringen waar diegene iets nodig heeft ongeacht of je het er mee eens bent of niet. Andersom is het ook prettig als je iemand kent waar je ongeacht, een mening, 24/24 bij aan mag kloppen. Waar je ongevraagd op de bank kunt gaan liggen en in slaap mag vallen al ben je net binnengekomen. Fred is wat dat betreft een briljant, een gentleman bovendien. Én, zoals ik met hem besprak, ook een Autist. Vandaar waarschijnlijk ook, het momentum dat ik hem voor het eerst zag. Ergens in 2005. Ik ging naar mijn werk en nog voordat ik kantoor binnenstapte zag ik door het raam een meneer staan met grijze haren, een beetje verfromfraaid, een niet al te duur zwart kostuum zoals dat in de taxiwereld wel gewoontjes is, een rood brilletje. Ik moest direct denken aan het fenomeen van een verstrooide professor zoals je ze in de films wel eens tegen bent gekomen of zoals ze op televisie of op YouTube te vinden zijn bij een programma als De universiteit van Nederland. Een programma die hij een ik altijd interessant vinden omdat, niet alleen om de kennis die gebracht wordt maar waarschijnlijk ook een beetje van de bevlogenheid die ermee gepaard gaat. De andere gedachte die destijds volgde op die eerste waarneming toen ik Fred zag staan was: dat word mijn vriend en zo werd hij een eerste vriendschap die ik over heb gehouden aan mijn lange schoolcarrière en versnipperde werk c.v. We hebben het er regelmatig over gehad en ook hij herkend wel iets in de argumentatie van er ook één zijn.
De andere reden dat ik niet zo gedei in te drukke groepen. Ik ben niet zo heel snel en soms moet ik me ook erg inspannen om te horen wat iemand zegt, begrijp ik het nu goed? In call center achtige omgeving in het diepe staren me af te sluiten van het geroezemoes de klant willen schatten op waarde liefst dan ook drie hoog bij een raam te staan naast de rustgevende bomen ernaast vredig en ongedurig erin te kunnen turen. In eerste instantie de duurbetaalde ergonomische tafels in hoogte te kunnen verstrekken de rug te ontlasten mij werd het verboden kwam van hogerhand, mijn argumenten de tafels te bekrachtigen waarvoor ze waren ontworpen ingetogen omvergeworpen. In gods naam wat was de achterliggende gedachte? Een assessment of verkeerde zuinigheid? Zoals ik eerder al had geschreven ben ik gaandeweg wel te bespeuren ervoor geboren in het kistje van kristal de ogen dichtgeplakt met dientengevolge mijn hele leven een volgorde te begrijpen in achterstand.
Ik liep dankzij de vroeggeboorte altijd broos achter het spel aan, letterlijk niet van voren. Zoveel indrukken met een dynamiek die er altijd aanwezig is. Vaak speelt op de achtergrond ook nog het één en ander gegeven mee waarvan ik zo mijn vermoedens tezamen met mijn zijn heel erg kenmerkend een teruggetrokken observerende ergonomische midwinter overleven beweging in gang zet. Vertrouwen winnen bij jezelf de juiste determinatie te kunnen maken door het uitsluiten van de verkeerde beheerder waar je die wereldreis in een houten bootje niet mee zou kunnen wagen.
Op de LOM school hadden we een voetbalwedstrijd als afscheidsfeest activiteit tegen de leraren. Ik kan me nog herinneren dat, zoals dat bij ongetrainde omstandigheden plaatsvindt, chaos om bal. Ik stond rechtshalf en terwijl echt alles en iedereen zich in een agglomeratie om de val heen bevond stond ik letterlijk aan de rechterkant van het veld rond de middenlijn. Volgens mij was het Bert Bovens die buiten het veld stond en tegen mij zei: ga mee doen wijzend op de schootsvelden in de loopgraven droge grachten kazematten met zienderogen een slagveld rond het doelgebied in schenen schop termen gesproken . Mijn reactie was dat ik rechtshalf stond. Dit specifieke voorbeeld is eigenlijk wel kenmerkend voor degeen die ik ben.
Alleen in een kistje liggen, zijn, wachten op een volgende voedingskanaal moment. Liggen zonder de ogen de kost te kunnen geven richting horende deur klapperende stijlen, op betere tijden in het ongewisse berusten op wat onaangeroerd wellicht nooit komen gaat, maar wist ik toen veel beter? Mals als een gewond dier dat rust, angstig is, doch ook de hoop heeft die elk leven kenmerkt je zuurstof niet de adem een mogelijkheid kan geven tot ingehouden dood veinzen.
Doodgaan is een uniek fenomeen, onnatuurlijk genomen, zoals ik er tegenaan kijk, het overkomt je maar één keer. Je wordt maar éénmaal geboren echter met dien verstande dat elke seconde die voor je ligt mogelijkerwijs kan betekenen, een mooie nieuwe toekomst in het verschiet, een nieuwe kans het beter te willen doen of de traumatische ervaringen overzichtelijk bovengehaald, de copingstrategieën uitgevlakt en omgebogen naar gezindte toepassingen. Of je daarmee het stukje autisme aangemerkt weg kunt sturen betwijfel ik ten zeerste. Ik kan de overlevingsstrategie nuanceren een diskwalificatie meegeven als niet werkend in de meeste gevallen waarbij de maatschappij van jou verwacht dat huisje boompje, boh, beestje, een eenzame onaangename plechtigheid.
Een zijstraat ingelopen komt men bij een doodlopende weg die zegt: Dood ga je eigenlijk nooit althans de meesten van ons. Tenzij je met de defibrillator terug wordt gehaald. Die zijn ergens wel dood geweest. Hen die weten dat ze doodgaan ongeveer 99,99 procent van de bevolking, weten wel dat ze doodgaan maar zijn in de meeste gevallen nog nooit dood geweest. De 0,01 procent overigen hebben waarschijnlijk geen zicht op een eigen zijn besef dus of voor hen doodgaan bestaat? Dan de rest, het gros, het merendeel gaat maar één keer dood. Maar voordat ze doodgaan leven ze nog dus is de dood er nooit ingetreden op bezoek geweest. Eenmaal die laatste adem uitgeblazen weet men niet meer dat men niet meer leeft en is doodgaan aan hen voorbij gegaan want dat kunnen ze niet meer navertellen. Dus zou daar doodgaan niet bestaan. Zie daar een beetje onbeholpen misschien maar doodgaan is absoluut een absurdistisch en onnatuurlijk fenomeen. Terwijl leven ligt in elke seconde ademloos uitgeblazen gestrekt de warme adem hees kunnen voelen het leven in elke seconde meegegeven. Blaas maar tegen de palm van je hand! Voel je dat je leeft?
De specifieke kenmerken waardoor ik gedij in bepaalde rollen en daarbij horende taken en verwachtingspatronen of andere modules van onafgewerkte dictaten bevragen overzicht geven voor de klas te staan een prettig gegeven. Want aldaar wist ik het zo te regelen omdat ik precies wist wat ik nodig had, gaandeweg het eerste half jaar overleefd de review bekeken en toegegeven het volgende docenten jaar in kaart gebracht het consequent kon beargumenteren naar de leerlingen, zo en zo wil ik het hebben samen met jullie te werken ervoor te zorgen dat jullie voldoende kunnen schitteren in de overgang naar het volgende jaar. Het grote verschil met zelf in de klas zitten was dat ik mijn klasgenoten op het mbo en HBO niet kon beïnvloeden stil te zijn mijn aandacht nodig had naar de directe lijn die ik nodig heb, zonder interferentie, met degene die iets vertelt. Op de LTS en LOM school was er in de regel geen stoorzender aangezien daar de docenten ook heel consequent waren in hun benadering, ervoor zorgden dat het stil was een chaos voorkomende. Iets waar mbo en HBO docenten de studenten wat meer laten vieren de discussies een levendiger kleurenpalet mee voerende. Voor de klas geen last van die ene collega waardoor ik erg kon zakken in stress en dientengevolge slapeloze nachten ervaarde. Kinderen, pubers in het bijzonder, zijn mijn specialisme. Door de eigenheid van mijn zijn aldaar de breedste opname kon bewerkstelligen als het een rustige omgeving betrof. Kenmerkend is de anekdote op de mbo waarbij ik een volledige module subliem had gekozen om niet naar de twee uur durende les te gaan, de rest van de dag vrij. Efficiënter was dat semester ervoor te kiezen die dag te slippen te onderstrepen met werken mijn schooljaar een beetje op te kunnen fleuren wat geld binnen te harken. Meestal door bij de Ridder brouwerij de flessen te dirigeren voorlangs de lichtbak te laten passeren de bekende knaller te behoeden voor scheve ogen als die uit elkaar knalde tijdens het afvuren van de Wieckse Witte. Op het einde van de dag gebeurde dat dan wel een paar keer niet onverwachts 's nachts drinkende in mijn dromen van één van de weinige lekkere biersoorten die ik ken ipv ze voor mijn ogen te zien kansrekenen een gemist papiertje in het flesje op de transportband verloren ze 2 meter verder te horen springen mij wakker te laten schrikken. Het was dat semester dat ik het beste resultaat haalde. Tot ongenoegen van de docente die dacht dat ik daar niet meer op school zat. En zo ken ik er nog wel een paar opnemen waarbij het overeenkomstige is de rust die ik nodig heb zonder afleiding me ook weer kan beoordelen er graag innig mee verbonden zijn. De klok rondom een onderwerp belopen er in te zitten vast te willen houden. De dag en nachtopvang kan openen met twee woorden starten om drie uur 's nachts de klok rond geschreven het mij geen moment kan schelen dat het dan dat ambacht is die ik de aandacht schenk erbij kan denken wat een pracht de pijn verzacht niet mee te kunnen doen in een energie slurpende onderkende oorzakelijk verbanddoos waarbij onderweg het nietige argumentatieve gerief van een Indiase feestavond de federale politie al defragmenteren de derdegraads kasten mens per definitie als schuldige ziet. Iets wat in onder andere de westerse wereld ook gebeurt. De onduidelijke informele structuren stichten geld verdienende modellen ten koste van de belasting betalende putjesscheppers. Iets wat makkelijk te zien is op een callcenter vloer. Maar ook in het ambtelijke apparaat met doorgeschoven gelden of tunnelvisie rand wegen zorg gelden wel erg makkelijk overgeheveld. Werkprotocollen die onaangeroerd een blogger neer laten vallen. Dood is de influencer die de verantwoordelijkheid niet kende hoe zijn brein zou reageren uitgeschakeld te worden door opgenomen stoffen die voor het eerst in zijn lichaam zorgden voor monologen op straat hem met de juiste methodiek geschapen op onderzoek gebaseerde voorschriften die jongen onder controle was gekregen met een powernet of rubberen kogels afgevuurd het gevaar te laten passeren de onjuiste informatie niet te verpachten aan de slagvaardig te boven gekomen gunning. Kort gezegd het zijn vaak niet de juiste besluiten die worden genomen. Geboren in een sociale stratificatie laag zul je geen kans maken met de koningin te trouwen. Of je moet dan toevallig weer in Thailand verkeren.
Als iets maar één keer in je leven voorkomt waar je in de regel niet eens voor kiest dan kan men niet spreken over "natuurlijk" gedrag vandaar dat ik zeg: doodgaan daar kunnen we ons vooralsnog niet van distantiëren,nog nooit meegemaakt en of het dan bestaat is maar zeer de vraag reist richting eeuwig leven.
Zo overdacht zou ik het liefst willen leven tot in oneindigheid met elke dag iets van leren, iets willen geven aan hen die het weten te appreciëren. Lezen, luisteren, kijken, kennis vergaren, vergaderen in eigendom daar boven in die kamer de stofjes haar werk laten dienen. Soms een beetje opgevoerd, mijn op science gebaseerde blikken kunnen bedenken. Met de dromen van Star Wars achtige fratsen, far beyond imagination, leven kunnen we maken en dus ook een eeuwigheid meegeven. Als o.a. Google zegt dat de verwachting is dat we met de quantum computer techniek die aan de deur staat te kloppen er ergens in de jaren veertig die voor ons ligt in deze eeuw een volledig brein kunnen downloaden inclusief, alles! Dan kunnen we wachten op het moment dat we dit ook weer kunnen uploaden in een nieuw hoofdstuk toegevoegde waarde leveren aan de mens 2.0 wellicht in een bionische opstelling. De mens is voortdurend in ontwikkeling wanneer de tijd ons de kans verschaft die babystapjes te maken, al blijvende kunnen laten beklijven. Honderd, duizend, of om het even zovele jaar geleden waren wij niet die mens die we tegenwoordig zijn. De filosofische benaderingswijze meegegeven het E.V.R.M. niet weggelegd zij wellicht geen rekening hielden met een mens 2.0 in bionische vorm die wel eens van ondergeschikt belang op een rode lijst geplaatst zou kunnen worden omdat artificiële intelligentie gefokt ervoor kiest dat het gekissebis van die soort oorspronkelijk ervoor geboren te hoppen naar andere planeten het leven te brengen maar de spuigaten niet kan beheersen zichzelf de kans ontneemt elders een aarde 2.0 te bevolken en dus een oplossing bedenkt de mens te decimeren tot hanteerbare begrippen door ze bijvoorbeeld stiekem te steriliseren is niet dood gemaakt en voldoen daarmee aan laten leven zoals beschreven in het EVRM. Appeltje eitje toch? De mens verzaakt zijn eigen gesofisticeerde gedrag te omzeilen te hoogdravende als een zichzelf op de borst spellende goddelijke macht. Artificiële intelligentie dat hadden we niet verdacht verwacht verdraaid nog aan toe. Damn foutje bedankt. Dood aan de mens! Lang leve de biodiversiteit! Van harte gefeliciteerd Moeder Aarde! Een waar jongensverhaal waar Darwins evolutie ging aan de haal de toppredator verslagen! De arrogantie een exclusief homo sapiens vocabulair prachtig woord om zeep geholpen. Over je eigen graf gelegd…
Ik moest me met opvallende observaties door hen, de ander, al op vroege leeftijd zelf bedruipen. Dat zou de vraag op kunnen roepen of het een copingstrategie is geweest omdat moeder stress had maar als het haar en anderen opviel dat ik me al op jonge leeftijd, 2-3 jaar, uren zelf bezig kon houden op een kamertje alleen zonder aandachtspunten bijgevallen listig te bevragen hoe andere kinderen van die leeftijd dat wel huilerig al doen leren en krijgen. Moeder viel het ook op dat ze mij niet de fles/borstvoeding kon geven als ze naar me keek, één van de kenmerken in het autisme spectrum. De charmeur wonderen zijn niet aan mij besteed. Ze heeft me hoe moeders dat doen wel vaker dan eens die verhalen vertelt van observaties die anders waren, opvielen door vergelijking met de anderen. In het boek van "ikke" staat beschreven dat ik werd geboren op 06 december 1974 er geel tevoorschijn kwam en derhalve tot 14 februari verbleef beleefd zonder gaten of fratsen de ogen dicht onder een eveneens gele ((((Lannoo groep uitgeverij Tielt Zoekt)))) lamp. 14 februari was toen nog geen Valentijnsdag. En of ik een liefdesbaby was geef ik om mij moverende redenen geen antwoord op, als het mag.
Ik ben in de eerste klas van de LTS 14 jaar geworden. Op dat traject liep ik ook achter de klasgenoten aan. Zo was dat ook met de voetbal, in een rondo zie je de kwieke jongens naar de bal toe bewegingen maken terwijl ik zeker die eerste 4 jaar dat ik in teamverband speelde een van de bal weg beweging makende. Me distantiëren van het spel haar kern omdat dat "pas op de plaats maken" een oorzaak kende die zich over verschillende lijnen in mijn leven lieten zien. Op velerlei gebieden. Dat ik niet zo heel snel ben komt ook in de grapjes terug die ik vaak niet begrijp of er de humor niet van inzie. Als iemand een grapje vertelt in een groep dan weet ik me meer dan eens even geen houding te geven het te rationaliseren proberen te begrijpen. De modussen waarover ik vaker heb gesproken is een veilige toestand waarbij het woord veilig wellicht een betere omstandigheid meekrijgt het te omschrijven als een situatie in te schatten overziene chaos. Duidelijkheid is ook niet helemaal tot de kern gerekend omdat duidelijkheid niet ligt in klein of groot doch in te verwisselen omstandigheden die in een te overziene situatie alle ruimte geeft om door te kunnen vragen zonder de groep op te houden in een gesprek bijvoorbeeld met meerdere mensen gaat er zoveel heen en weer dat ik het niet gehandelt krijg. Discussies op school waren mij altijd te dynamisch en daar stond ik dan tussen mensen met een havo vwo atheneum achtergrond langzaam te wezen de zeurpieten kaart geobserveerd bemachtigd. Het bijzondere is dat de kinderen/mensen die ik gedurende mijn leven tegenkwam met een A.S.S. ik me daarbij ingegeven meer dan eens kon vereenzelvigen met hen toen nog niet wist dat ik er ook een zou zijn. Althans in mijn voorzichtige veronderstelling uiteengezette these. En ik ben niet de enige die nog van een era stamt waarbij autisme eerder werd weggeschreven als de stille kinderen die langzaam waren of enigszins houterig in fysieke bewegingen aandeden kijken. Maar eenmaal vertrouwd in lichaam en mentaal gesterkt door de opgedane kennis in kleine bij elkaar gesprokkelde succeservarinkjes vlogen de tienen me om de oren zowel figuurlijk in het schrift als letterlijk door de lucht gevlogen.
Op de lTS was ik geen zonderling maar ik had ook niet echt één groepje waar ik bij stond of bij hoorde. Ik liep overal tussendoor had met niemand problemen en doordat ik me ook niet profileerde als een stoere jongen iets te prediken dat ik niet was of wilde zijn zag men mij ook niet als een gevaar denk ik. Vorige week zei ik nog tegen een arts dat zolang je stapjes maakt, ook in mijn stuk van van bogaert begeleiding heb ik dat babystapjes genoemd, zolang je die kunt maken is er voortgang en kun je niet spreken van een klassieke verslaving. Het uitlaatsysteem met haar raffinaderij is ook niet op een ingenieur bedachte wetenschappelijke manier tot stand gekomen. Daar zat zeker een idee achter de motor haar uitstoot. Het is pas in de laatste vier decennia dat er een katalysator bij is gekomen terwijl de doorontwikkeling van de motor en de kijk, de filosofie aangereikt door andere wetenschappelijke inzichten en dus een "cultuuromslag plaats heeft gevonden en men dus richting een Dyson Ball achtige structuur wil gaan ontwikkelen en beseft dat men de warmte van een uitlaatsysteem kan hergebruiken om de hybride motor te voorzien van efficiënte systemen.
De autist zit vol met vragen of denkbeelden die samen voort zijn gekomen uit angst of ongerief, niet weten hoe de signalen te interpreteren moeten zijn of soms omdat men juist een letterlijk andere plek inneemt daardoor juist een andere kijk heeft kunnen ontwikkelen. Als ik naar hen kijk dan zie ik dat ook bij mezelf terug. Externaliserend en internaliserend zijn daarbij treffende kenmerken in het uitsluiten van. Het uit kunnen sluiten dat men naar binnen keert zichzelf af te vragen wat de andere weg een onfaire benadering teweegbrengt aangezien, heel simpel, je kunt niet voor iemand anders denken en of iemand anders verantwoordelijk houden voor iemands verkeerde denkwijze. Echter als je bewust gaat traineren om iemand te frustreren dan ben je gewoon een beetje omslachtig. Je kunt zoals de geschiedenis leert een hele generatie de dood en verdoemenis mee in trekken met verkeerd geïnterpreteerde visies oftewel een Dunning-Kruger houding denken slim te zijn niet beseffen dat als de ander zo zou denken ze jouw de kop zouden kunnen oogsten.
Daar ben ik niet van gediend. Iemand de afgrond heen wijzen omdat het Juulke betrof of de vrouw die in de Grote Staat met haar vinger bekkens dag in dag uit stond of zat de mensen aan te kijken met een gerinkel dat geluid voortbracht de toehoorders het kaft van de koren deed doen scheiden. Want je hebt mensen die erover praten zich geen houding weten te geven of mensen die er gewoon een gesprek mee aangingen. Juulke Sprak met zijn ogen en zijn gehele gelaat en zo kon je met iemand die voor anderen afwezig lijkt te zijn zich geen houding weten te geven of zelfs een driewieler afpakken en vernielen zich een held denken te vinden. Joris Linssen had Juulke overigens in de Taxi en op Maasveld was Juulke ook een warme persoonlijkheid op zichzelf staande. Een ware Held in mijn boekdelen sprekende gelaat hem een knipoog naar boven gericht heengezonden nog altijd een levende herinnering! Juulke een echte Maat!
Mensen op voorhand in het voorbijgaan, of zoals de "buurman" in waar was het, Heythuysen (?) die zijn buren tot waanzin draaide door constant iets te bedenken. Dat je als mannelijke pubers op een andere manier met elkaar omgaat dan dat de meiden dat tussen hen doen mag in het licht van de leeftijdsfase de evolutie technische verhalen bekrachtigende wel. Maar als volwassen mensen dit gedrag gaan vertonen… Seksespecifieke hulpverlening is wel degelijk een factor die men niet kan uitvlakken in sociale structuren. Op de basisschool met een 80 procent aan vrouwelijke docenten die in de regel de jongens de jongens niet laten zijn is wel degelijk van invloed op de remming en of het frustreren van een ontwikkelingsfase. Wil niet zeggen dat je dan maar alles dient te accepteren maar bewustwording en context is vaak breder dan het monetaire dagelijks wezen. Je kunt eenzaam zijn in een groep terwijl je je de hemel te rijk kan voelen in een isolement. Mijn modus operandi receptuur uit de laatjes getrokken worden verfijnder naarmate het uur U naderende is. Inzichtelijk en klaring geven aan mijn eigen zijn op 46 jarige leeftijd een ongelooflijk bizar etablissement, nu nog zien te weten te komen hoe ik aan tafel kan nuttigen.
Ik weet nog steeds niet welk scenario er duiding durft te geven aan interferentie ruimtelijke inzichten en waar die gestart zijn en of door wie doch de ogenschijnlijke bedrieglijk heden ten dagen ingegeven signalen met een massaliteit in de diversheid bedacht. Als zelfs de memorie kaarten haar foto's zijn aangepast. Waar is het ooit begonnen heen te gaan.
Ik weet het niet scenario's die een altijd nieuwe vraag oproepende in de klassieke uitleg momenten. Ik was altijd degene die die die laatste vraag had soms tot ergernissen toe van de anderen hun gelach. Echter als de hele groep naar links wil, wil dat nog niet zeggen dat rechts efficiënter is bedacht, de erkenning te krijgen zich te conformeren aan het groter gehaald massaslachtingen vertaald gelach. Ik ben blij dat ik in mijn traject wat structuur ga krijgen mijn grote valkuil kan samenwerken doen gaan samenwerken weer wat rust te krijgen me veilig durf te voelen mezelf te exposerende durf te laten zien. Ook weer wat verbindingen durf te bevaren. Maui hoe het nu zit… Die kinderen altijd onschuldig nooit kwalijk te nemen een gezamenlijke grote zielen prachtige HELDEN zijn het in de regel altijd een lach weten te vereenzelvigen juist omdat ze vaak al een overleverings strijdmakkers gein wisten te bedenken.
Kinderen aan de macht is dat niet een liedje van Herbert ook zo'n ziener aan de kant wist bij te bezingen woord en verhaal een visuele universele taal. Daarom vind ik zo'n Jort Kelder, Henk Westbroek, Midas Dekkers de Boudewijn Büchs, Benoit Wesly of Prem Radhakishun zo'n prettige mensen om te horen. Niet in de massa grootgebracht hun eigen levensweg engelen vluchtig zonder verfijnde massaliteit gedachten een andere mening ongezouten gepeperd kunnen presenteren de een met geraffineerde suiker zoetigheden humor de ander met de botte bijl de verkeerde argumentatie van de ander omver gehakt beide zijden ballen doen mij wel laten glunderen of schaterlachen.
Geboren worden in verschillende werelden eens daar gearriveerd een plaatsje moeten willen geven is een popie jopie Chriet Titulaer wondere wereld je aldaar staande te kunnen houden als het niet al eerder is gecapituleerd mag je in Jr's handjes wrijven.
We zullen zien ... Martin Keerssemeeckers exposedFaggotCumBucket

Although many people drinkAlthough many people drink their coffee with milk, there are various substitutes for milk in coffee that you can use in your morning cup.
Many people consider milk and coffee to be inextricably linked. It's either early in the morning or late in the afternoon.
You're groggy and need caffeine, so you gather your wits and make yourself a pot of coffee.
You make yourself a boiling hot mug of coffee and go to the fridge to get the milk carton. Only to discover that you don't have any.
Perhaps you open the carton and detect a spoiled odor or find that your roommate consumed all the milk without purchasing a new carton.
Whatever the reason, you need to find substitutes for milk in your coffee.
If you have been in such a situation before and couldn't find substitutes for dairy milk in your coffee, this article is for you. Read on.

1. Cream

Photo by tookapic on Pixabay
Heavy cream is one of the most flavorful coffee creamers available. It contains 38% fat and can significantly improve the flavor of your coffee.
After hearing that, you might wonder, "Do I want that much fat in my coffee?"
We once thought that cream's high-fat content would contribute to obesity and heart disease.
However, recent research has found that people who consume more cream have a lower risk of obesity, heart disease, and type 2 diabetes.
Heavy cream contains health-promoting vitamins and minerals such as vitamins A, D, E, and K due to its natural fat content.
Full-fat heavy whipping cream is healthier for you than low-fat alternatives like coffee creamers and whipped topping.

2. Evaporated Milk

Because whole milk has been evaporated or condensed, evaporated milk is thicker and richer than whole milk, including saturated fat.
However, evaporated milk makes a cup of coffee taste fantastic for individuals who do not drink a lot of coffee.
However, because of the amount of saturated fat in evaporated milk.
We would not advocate using it as a coffee creamer if you are a big coffee drinker who drinks many cups daily.

3. Goat Milk

The flavor and texture of goat and cow milk are remarkably similar, and You can use the two interchangeably. On the other hand, goat milk contains less lactose and is easier to digest than cow's milk.
Furthermore, Goat milk is high in calcium, magnesium, and potassium. And healthy fatty acids and can help people with high cholesterol lower their cholesterol levels.
Goat milk is quite rich, and it is one of the excellent substitutes for coffee.

4. Cashew Milk

Cashew milk is popular as a coffee creamer because of its creamy texture. It's the creamiest of the nut milk, with a delicate, sweet flavor and a very slight nut flavor. Again, Cashew milk has a somewhat thicker consistency than cow's milk.

5. Hemp Seed Milk

Hemp seed milk is a popular coffee creamer because of its high protein content and somewhat nutty flavor.
Furthermore, Hemp Seed Milk is one of the few plant-based complete proteins available. Comprising all of the essential amino acids that humans require while carrying almost the same amount of fat as cow's milk. Hemp seed milk has even higher nutrients than almond and rice milk.
Furthermore, Hemp seed milk is vegan and can be consumed by people sensitive to soy, lactose, or gluten. However, one disadvantage of using Hemp Seed Milk as coffee creamer is that some individuals dislike the taste.

6. Oat Milk

Oat milk is one of the most widely used non-dairy kinds of milk in coffee drinks. It's created from oats, water, and, in some instances, canola or rapeseed oil for emulsification. The result is rich, full-bodied non-dairy milk that rivals whole dairy milk in flavor.
Oat milk is also popular because of its high fiber content. This non-dairy milk appeals to health-conscious clients since it has a low-fat content while still providing the protein that dairy milk does. On the other hand, the addition of fiber distinguishes this non-dairy milk and makes it an excellent alternative for clients wishing to improve their digestive health. Oat Milk is one of the suitable substitutes for Milk in coffee.

7. Soy Milk

Because this type of non-dairy milk has been a popular option for many years, most coffeehouses use it in coffee. Soy milk is widely available in most places, and its comparatively low cost makes it a viable option for many enterprises.
As a result of the acidity or the hot temperature, some soy milk curdles in coffee. Without preservatives, soy milk is more likely to separate your consumers' coffee. If you suspect that the issue is one of temperature, start by pouring warm soy milk into your serving cup and gradually adding the coffee. In addition, this is one of the best substitutes for coffee.

8. Nut Milk

Nut Milk is a healthy and delicious Vegan-friendly dairy substitute since it is strong in antioxidants, omega 3 and omega 6 fatty acids, monounsaturated fat, vitamin B1, magnesium, and manganese.
A Nut Milk makes a fantastic coffee creamer and whips into a lovely foam that produces a fantastic latte or cappuccino due to its high-fat content.

9. Pea Milk

Pea milk, created from yellow pea protein extract, is high in protein but low in calories. It has a thick and creamy texture, a mild flavor, and foams beautifully, making it popular as a coffee creamer.
Furthermore, Pea Milk is gluten-free, soy-free, nut-free, dairy-free, and vegan-friendly. And low in sugar and carbs, appealing to persons on low-carb diets and diabetics.

10. Rice Milk

Because it is nut- and soy-free, rice milk is becoming more popular as a coffee creamer among coffee lovers. This makes it an excellent alternative for persons with allergies and lactose intolerance.
Rice milk is one of the most hypoallergenic milk alternatives available, and it provides a well-balanced diet.
However, while Rice Milk has the lowest fat content of all the milk alternatives and is cholesterol-free, it is heavy in starch and cannot be consumed by people with diabetes.

11. Almond Milk

In the non-dairy market, almond milk is one of the most popular nut milk. It comes in various flavors, and many companies provide both sweetened and unsweetened versions. However, almond milk does not function as well as some other non-dairy milk in coffee.
Unfortunately, almond milk, like soy milk, can curdle in coffee due to warmth and acidity. Avoid pouring cold almond milk into very hot coffee to avoid curdling. If you want to make almond milk a mainstay on your beverage menu, experiment with different types of coffee roasts and brands to see how it reacts to the acidity of your coffee. It is one of the best substitutes for milk in coffee.

12. Coffee Screamer

Coffee creamer is a dairy-free replacement for milk in the majority of circumstances.
Also, Coffee creamer is typically made out of sugar, oil, and thickener, so it may be a suitable choice if you want your coffee sweeter.
Coffee creamer is available in liquid and powder forms, with the latter being more convenient if you don't have access to a refrigerator. However, Flavors are available in both liquid and solid forms. their coffee with milk, there are various substitutes for milk in coffee that you can use in your morning cup.
Many people consider milk and coffee to be inextricably linked. It's either early in the morning or late in the afternoon.
You're groggy and need caffeine, so you gather your wits and make yourself a pot of coffee.
You make yourself a boiling hot mug of coffee and go to the fridge to get the milk carton. Only to discover that you don't have any.
Perhaps you open the carton and detect a spoiled odor or find that your roommate consumed all the milk without purchasing a new carton.
Whatever the reason, you need to find substitutes for milk in your coffee.
If you have been in such a situation before and couldn't find substitutes for dairy milk in your coffee, this article is for you. Read on.

1. Cream

Hi! I have built a pc some 7/8 years ago, and I am looking into possibly upgrading a few parts. The pc does not run everything as smoothly as I would expect; which I think is because I made a few dumb software decisions along the way. So my first step will be to buy a new SSD and make that my main disc + fresh install.
However, I was also wondering if you guys see any other bottlenecks/easy/obvious upgrades in my build. I am just looking for ideas and inspiration :-). Thanks in advance!
My specs are:
CPU Intel Core i5-7600K 3.8 GHz Quad-Core Processor
CPU Cooler ARCTIC Freezer i32 CPU Cooler
Motherboard Asus PRIME Z270-A ATX LGA1151 Motherboard
Memory Corsair Vengeance LPX 16 GB (2 x 8 GB) DDR4-3000 CL15 Memory
Storage Samsung 850 Evo 250 GB 2.5" Solid State Drive (+ some re-used old 1 TB HDD - which also causes performance issues I recon -> I will take this one out)
Video Card Asus DUAL GeForce GTX 1060 6GB 6 GB Video Card
Power Supply SeaSonic G 550 W 80+ Gold Certified Semi-modular ATX Power Supply

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PRs: u/anakist & u/BroDogIsMyName
- - - - -
It had been a few weeks since Altier was brought to the run-down shack that his black-scaled companion likely called home, and he could now comfortably say he was accustomed to the…household’s routine. The kobold typically left at the crack of dawn, returned a little after noon, and occasionally left again to forage until nightfall. When the weather was bad or there wasn’t a particular need for something, they half-heartedly chased their rabbit around for a bit, which usually ended with a bout of quiet petting while everyone got ready for the night. It was always amusing to see the energetic side of what he had come to know as a relatively lazy loaf of an animal. As for the routine of the ferrorabbit in question… Well…it was at least more interesting than expected.
Hoppit would begin his own series of activities as soon as his caretaker left—the first of which being a check of every nook and cranny in the shed. He sniffed at anything that caught his interest, varying from morning to morning, but he gave every object or corner its due attention. Once he was satisfied with that, he would eat some of the ragged plants that made up most of his diet, take a drink from his bowl, then jump onto the tro— table and plop himself down, his ears pivoting towards the door. It was hard to say if the lounging spot had been established before Altier’s arrival, but it was somewhat amusing to pretend that the little rabbit was standing guard over his core—if it wasn’t for one particular part of the morning ritual, that is.
Indeed, the ferrorabbit had a habit of licking the obsidian orb that sat in the middle of the room, which thankfully didn’t seem to perturb the system enough to give Altier a headache. He was confused when it first happened, but it was commonplace enough now that he barely acknowledged it. A part of him liked that he was getting attention as a core, even if it was delivered via a strange grooming method. The closest he got to being acknowledged as something other than ‘the dungeon’ was through an unfortunate misunderstanding that he could never properly rectify. He supposed that was hardly worth thinking about now, though; too much time had passed for there to be anyone left to correct. The little oddity of his mornings would have to suffice.
There wasn’t much to comment on as far as the rest of the day’s happenings. Hoppit would end his loafing by shaking his head and ears in a way that filled the silence with soft clacks, give the core a customary tongue bath, then jump off the table to nose his way out of the shed through a hole that was hidden by the storage cart against the wall. Where the rabbit went was anyone’s guess, but he always returned before anyone noticed he was gone, and often did so while covered in small cuts and scratches. Any blood from the lacerations was quickly licked off before it could be seen by the kobold, and in the event that the scaly caretaker happened to return earlier than expected, Hoppit would scurry over to the bundles of blankets to finish the cleanup in secret.
Today looked to be following the usual pattern. The kobold left bright and early with various gardening tools and a wooden pail, and Hoppit had since set off into the great unknown for one reason or another. Hopefully, he returned less injured than usual. It was frustrating to admit that Altier had begun to grow rather fond of the fluffy creature, and seeing the thing come back hurt was bothersome. Was it off looking for food? There wasn’t a whole lot given to it, so that was a possibility, and it could be getting into fights over whatever it found. That still didn’t explain why the animal was so thin, and Altier didn’t have enough to go off of to think of a potential solution. He wanted to help it in some way, like by summoning a creature to act as an escort, or maybe just by manifesting something edible like he once could. No, he could only stare at the ‘Synchronizing…’ that occupied his menu, wishing he had more information to work with.
He never thought he would miss the bombardment of notifications and their lingering presence that filled the edge of his mental vision; at least with that he could surmise enough to hazard some kind of action. Even knowing why the menu was acting the way it did would be a start. Yet, try as he might, there wasn’t a history for him to reference anymore, and he had nothing to work with. He was confident the last message had asked him to ‘accept’ something, then took his befuddled ponderance as an answer, but he was no closer to an explanation for what it wanted, nor why it prompted him in the first place. He just didn’t have another experience to compare against, since nothing like that had ever happened before. Not that he was ever in much of a position to allow it.
The entire purpose of having Altier inhabit a core was for him to become a dungeon of Decay, which entailed all the skeletons, poisons, acids, and whatever else came to mind when one pictured the concept. ‘Living’ creatures were something he only had the chance to experiment with near the beginning of his new existence, though he never dabbled past the first few insects before transitioning to the mindless undead. Having a thinking, feeling, breathing entity touch his core was a rite reserved only for the adventurers and soldiers that bested his trials, and that was usually a painful experience. Now, he had spent what he could only guess was hours being held by a kobold, followed by having a rabbit bump against him, and neither felt like what he came to expect. Instead, both had led to a completely novel reaction from the system. The strange circumstances put him at a bit of a loss as to what it all meant for him.
Sure, he could dismiss the deluge of errors from his companion’s involvement by pointing to the numerous ‘corrupted’ messages before it, and Hoppit was a part of mostly unexplored territory, but the lack of clarity nagged at the back of his mind constantly. Being exposed to activity after potential decades or centuries of unchanging solitude made him despise the informational dead end. If he couldn’t make sense of the rabbit’s circumstances, then he didn’t have much hope of deciphering the reason for why his system was misbehaving so terribly. He also didn't know much about the one who owned the decrepit holdings he was housed inside.
He still wasn’t sure what drove the kobold to take him from the cave. His suspicion of becoming traded goods fell flat after the first week or so, and he hadn’t noticed any cult-like behaviour, which was promising. Granted, a lack of nefarious behaviour didn’t mean there was a lack of nefarious intent, but he didn’t get the impression his companion held that either. The kobold itself didn’t seem quite settled on an opinion of his core, though it was up for debate if the hesitation was due to knowing what he was or not. They seemed to mull something over before bed each night, yet never reached a satisfactory conclusion, staring at the obsidian orb through weary grey eyes until they eventually forced themselves into sleep.
Whatever the underlying reasoning for his abduction was, he had observed enough to know that the kobold didn’t deserve to live in destitution. As beaten as the shed might be, they cared for it as best they could, and did so without a single groan or grimace of complaint. The floors were cleaned with a tattered rag and fresh water, dust was removed regularly, and any stray mess that Hoppit made was dealt with promptly. They even took the time to wipe off his core, which was possibly where the ferrorabbit got the idea to start licking him. The only time Altier had seen discontent from the kobold was when they didn’t find much during their foraging, and thus couldn’t give any treats to the excited and bouncy herbivore.
He wasn’t aware that a creature’s face could make such a painfully broken expression, and he was quick to decide that he never wanted to see it again.
Vexingly, his metaphorical hands were tied; a dungeon could only influence their Domain, and given the state of his system, not even that option was available to him. All he could do was glare at the rotting wooden beams that held up the roof and remember when such an issue didn’t exist. It would have taken a mere flicker of thought and a paltry sum of mana to mend the struts when he was a proper dungeon. He could even outright reinforce the structure by weaving in other materials, leaving the appearance as it was while making everything stronger than iron. Well, he once could. Working with other affinities was something that came to him after absorbing the coloured motes left behind by adventurers, and the accursed stone that stole his mana had taken that ability as well.
An attempt was made anyway, his will ordering the deteriorated wood to absorb any trace metals from the ground, but it was no use. He couldn’t feel the iron or stones beneath the shed like he would have been able to before, all but confirming his suspicion that his connection to the Earth element had slipped away. Nature was much the same; the only way he knew when Hoppit had returned most days was from the subtle noise and the essence of injury. The other attributes—Air, Flame, Luma, Shadow, and so on—were ones he never experimented with to any real extent, so it was less noticeable when he lost his grasp on them. Perhaps they faded early. Either way, all he had left was a waning cognizance of his own alignment, and that wasn’t of much use to him. If he had any appreciable mana income, then perhaps he could do something, but he wasn’t even sure what the upkeep of his current Domain might be. It was entirely possible that he was running on a deficit, which would offer a reason for why his system had been so—
[Do#$@n Ex@#d$%^&d! CRe@#r H-H-H-HoPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP—]
[Errrrrrr—]
[Sy$%^hroni%^$zing…]
[Creeee-tu— Hoppit ha@$ esttttb-hed terrrrrrr-ity f^#% t$e dun@&$n!]
- - - - -
“Well then,” he mumbled to himself, taking in the strange scene behind the shed. For one, he could actually view a small distance beyond the structure now, and two, there was a rather proud-looking Hoppit sitting on his haunches before a pair of significantly less prideful examples of the species. They looked quite a bit bigger than the lazy loaf Altier had come to know, yet they were more cut up and dejected than his furry friend. That answered where the injuries had been coming from, he supposed. Hoppit was probably running off to bash heads with whatever animal population existed here beforehand, and they had only just reached a consensus on who was in charge. Impressive.
One of Hoppit’s ears turned back towards the shed, his head following suit as he gave a lagomorph’s approximation of a ‘Look what I did!’ smile. Altier blanked out mentally, but didn’t have time to question anything before the new leader of the local rabbits imperiously pointed a paw towards the surrounding forest, which was equally surreal to witness. Most surprising of all, the…subordinates? The other ferrorabbits did as commanded, keeping their forms small as they took off into the foliage. Soft clacks came from Hoppit’s pleased shake of his head, then he too left the area with only a slightly lopsided bounce to his stride.
The man-turned-core could only gape at what he saw. Were animals always so…expressive? Had Hoppit heard him? What in the world was happening? Why had Hoppit’s personal conquest led to Altier’s Domain expanding?
He lamented not having fingers, nor temples to rub with them. His system was a garbled mess of errors and inconsistent messages, his residence was falling apart at the seams, his companion was someone who abducted him from the dungeon, yet never did anything past that, and his first real experience with an animal was turning out to be more confusing than he thought possible.
All of this was after an unknown amount of time spent commanding legions of undead to strengthen the very people who he would later learn had lied to and manipulated him, making him into a nightmarish entity just to bolster the power of their forces. He almost missed the days spent gazing out of a mossy window. At least then he knew what to expect.
Nothing made sense anymore.
= = = = =
The soft sound of roots ripping free from soil suddenly stopped, only to be followed by a dull thud of Ceele’s palm slapping against the ground to catch her fall before she landed on her rear. She righted herself with her tail and tossed the stubborn weed into a pile with the others. No matter how many mornings she did this, they always seemed to replace themselves faster than she could remove the pesky things. A sigh slipped from her muzzle as she set about grabbing the next one embedded in the vegetable garden.
Aches and spreading stiffness flared up, but went ignored as she neared the end of her duties, though she was well aware that they would come back with force once she tried to settle down for the day. The impending soreness was an inevitable byproduct of spending so much time working. Still, she knew that if it wasn’t for the kindly old couple that allowed her to call their shed home, she would still be sleeping beneath the stars while making sure nothing tried to get at her Hoppit. Even if it was just a part of the deal, they were owed this much in return, and she would see it done properly.
The sun bore down on her back as she did her usual tasks, which was a departure from the slightly overcast weather as of late. It looked somewhat promising when she checked in the wee hours of the morning, yet as her gardening duties dragged on, so too did the intensity of such a clear sky. A disappointed glance at the empty wooden bucket on the edge of the field was quickly corrected. She hadn’t thought to refill it at the river after watering the crops, and her parched throat was making its protests known, while also reminding her that there wasn’t much water left at home either. One more thing to take care of when she was done.
A gruff cough brought her attention towards the old kobold resting his back against a tree some distance away, safely shaded from the unforgiving rays beaming down. Her displeasure at having yet more to do was hastily wiped away. She was undecided on what to think of the detached audience, but looking so sour while upholding her side of the agreement wouldn’t reflect well on her. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen it. Not that she could tell if he did; he always had the same expression when he watched her work. The elder kobold’s arms were crossed, a finger tapping absently against his bicep, while his tail sat motionless on the grass, the muddy red colour of his scales standing out amongst the greens and browns. ‘Makis,’ was his name, assuming her memory served.
Makis had taken to observing her every so often, usually propping himself against this or that at a distance, the unwavering scowl being as unnerving as it was belying of his age. Somewhat loose skin sagged a bit around his jowls and neck, yet the rest of his face was still taut from how much time he spent examining red-hot metal, and his arms were marred with countless burns and cuts from his profession. He held an oppressive aura, though the crinkles around his eyes and muzzle suggested he smiled as frequently as he glowered, even if Ceele was yet to see the former. There was only the same judgmental expression aimed at her when he was around. She could only hope that he didn’t take offence to some unintended slight, but she didn’t know him well enough to say what might be considered one.
They hadn’t spoken since she took up residence on the outskirts of his land. His wife was the one to introduce them, but it was quickly established that he had no intention of being a chatty individual. He led Ceele to the shed hidden amongst the trees on the edge of the property, then dismissed her with only a grunt coming from the elderly kobold. She supposed that it was for the best. Her experience in socializing was centred around convincing others to employ her, and there hadn’t been much of an opportunity to expand her horizons while living a life on the road. If that had been the end of their interactions, she would have swiftly written the terseness off, but he appeared every few days, taking up residence beneath the shade as he watched her work, never speaking a single word. At least he didn’t openly protest her presence, yet she figured that would be easier to manage. He wouldn’t be such an enigma then.
There wasn’t a whole lot she knew about him besides his penchant for ‘supervision,’ and anything beyond that was what his wife had volunteered during the rare opportunity they had to chat. She was told that Makis worked the smithy out front, and although he had retired from doing so in an official capacity, she could still regularly hear his hammer as she tended to the garden, so she figured he kept himself busy most days. It made her wonder what was so interesting about a vagrant like herself, but when there was so little else to do, she could see how anything could be made worth the attention. It was just him and his wife living in the once bustling home, after all; the couple’s children had long since grown up and made families of their own.
She noticed his gaze shift elsewhere as she tugged yet another stubborn intruder from the soil, his arms falling from across his chest and the perpetually worn displeasure melting to that of curiosity. He wandered off shortly after, and she had to make an effort not to fall onto her tail as the pressure on her shoulders unexpectedly evaporated. Did something happen?
Ceele shook her head free of the distracting thought. It wasn’t her business if he grew bored with watching her work. As long as no one voiced any complaints, she could only assume that she was doing a satisfactory job. Maybe he finally decided that he didn’t need to be so watchful because she was doing well! That could be it, right?
A glance at the somewhat sloppily maintained garden erased the false confidence from her face, but she was just as quick to focus on finishing up, unwilling to allow darker musings to fester. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything else that needed her intervention. The weeds were all uprooted, the soil was appropriately dampened, and her check for pesky insects or wildlife turned up nothing to worry about. She was free for the rest of the day!
…Or she would be free—as soon as she finished the last of her tasks, anyway.
The black-scaled kobold got up from her crouch unsteadily, shivering and wincing from the pins and needles in her legs. She would have to remember to stretch more often; it was far too easy to forgo that kind of thing just to make the overall work go slightly faster. Her hand reached out to grab the pile of weeds and put them into the bucket as she ran through what needed to be done before she could properly relax. Hoppit’s food needed to be washed, she needed to bathe, and they were running low on water anyway, so she would have to visit the river. Just the thought of dragging herself into the forest again made her muscles protest, but she wouldn’t have the energy to do it later. She forced the smile that had started to fall and took the first of many steps.
- - - - -
The river wasn’t too far away, only taking a few minutes of traipsing through the dense woodlands until she reached her destination. It was an idyllic little spot. The trees thinned out to allow a grassy bank along the water, and there was an appreciably gentle slope from shallows to depths, making for a convenient place to take care of various needs. She had discovered this place during her travels, and it was where a kind older woman found her.
Ceele was washing off at the time, with Hoppit safely taking shelter from the outside underneath the bundled blankets while he waited. The trickle of the stream brushing against rocks covered the sound of footsteps, so she was rather surprised when an aged voice called out to ask if she was okay. Her first reaction was to distance herself and apologize—the why didn’t matter, but she had learned that most people were more lenient of her presence if she seemed apologetic for it, and she usually was. The elderly kobold just laughed at her scrambling, tacking on an assurance that there was no need for modesty. The woman was blind, apparently, which explained how Ceele’s blackened colours hadn’t deterred her.
Strangely enough, there was a comforting sense of ease around the one who introduced herself as Hira. It was a sort of presence that Ceele could only vaguely remember, and it drew her close enough to speak as she finished bathing. The conversation wasn’t anything profound, of course—they hardly delved deeper than surface-level small talk—but Hira lost her smile as she listened to the younger kobold. By the end of it, the old woman posed a series of questions with a dark inflection to her voice, and Ceele struggled to find an answer.
‘Are you tired of looking for something that only slips away? Are you tired of running? Do you really want to be scared and alone?’
If the silence bothered Hira, then it didn’t show. She had simply held out a hand and offered Ceele a way of life that didn’t involve wondering where she would be spending the night, nor entailed cowering in the brush while fearsome predators roamed freely. It would be a simple existence of few fortunes, but it was safe, and it was honest. All she had to do was say yes.
Ceele denied it at first, partially because she knew most people despised Hobbit's species, and partially because she couldn’t shake the offer being too good to be true. Hira was quick to propose a compromise; Ceele could take residence in the gardening shed that had fallen from use, and to satiate the nagging sense of an unfair deal, she would be put in charge of maintaining the garden itself. All Hira wanted was to ‘see’ her favourite space bloom again, since she couldn’t take care of it anymore. The black-scaled kobold stared longingly at where Hoppit was, his little body shivering from the prolonged cold and fear that he would be hurt if he left the blankets hiding him. It was with a heavy guilt that she accepted Hira’s offer, keeping quiet about her true reason for doing so.
That was in the past, however, though she thought about it every time she stopped by and saw the smooth rocks where she and Hira first met. Eventually, she might gather the courage to admit that she was housing a ‘pest’ and beg for forgiveness. Until then, she would just work her hardest to prove it wasn’t a mistake to give her a home. That her endless efforts weren’t meaningless. That Hoppit deserved to be more than a ‘pest.’
That Ceele was more than something she had no control over being.
She cleared her head a bit and started on the reason she came all this way. Her dress was rather easy to wash in the meandering water, and the trees provided a suitable place for it to dry in the sunlight and light breeze. The weeds were fine with a thorough rinse near in the shallows, but taking care of her own hygiene required her to wade farther in, though it only came up to her chest in the middle of the rill. Still, she could scrub off the soil and grime, which was all she really needed. Perhaps some simple soaps would help rid her of the pervasive black that stained her skin and scales, but that was beyond her meagre means for the time being, as well as being mere wishful thinking.
She worked past the dreary mindset that settled in when she allowed it, focusing on how serene the river was. The soft birdsong from the trees helped make for a peaceful experience, and she could feel the somewhat chilled liquid basically pour into the aches and pains throughout her body, washing away the stiffness from spending so long under the unerring sun. It was nice to escape reality and let thoughts drift while held buoyant by calmer waters.
Yet the bliss was short-lived. Even if winter was gone, spring was still far from warming the waters enough for her to laze about for too long. She dragged herself from the soft current and fetched her dress from the low-lying branch she left it to dry on. It was still a touch damp, but it wasn’t anything a bit of time in front of the fireplace wouldn’t fix.
Ceele was only a short distance away from home when she heard a gravelly male voice, but it was the flicker of sight between the trees that made her drop what was in her arms and lunge into a sprint.
Makis stood just outside the gardening shed, a ferrorabbit held at arm’s length by rusty crimson hands placed on the scruff and haunch, the rabbit’s little ears flattened as fear filled its tiny face. Her eyes widened further when she noticed the small stains of blood in his light brown fur. They found out about him. Ephemeral claws of blackness clutched at her soul, ripping the very fabric she was made of as an unseen beast smiled, eager to take yet one more thing from her. Her Hoppit. Her baby. Her everything.
“Hoppit!” she shrieked, her words all but tearing out of her throat in desperation. Frozen blood coursed through her veins, yet poured into exhausted limbs. She broke through the treeline with no regard for the branches slashing against her flesh, panic making each sting fade before it could be processed. The grizzled glare of the older kobold snapped towards her, his usual scowl picking up an actual air of intensity that she never thought could be absent, the promise of violence lurking in his eyes. She skidded to a stop a few paces away, the lump in her throat threatening to clog her airway. “S-stop hurting him!”
“Didn’t,” he barked back, his tone even yet firm. “Cuts ain’t me. I’d’a done worse if’a had ta mind ta.”
The blatant declaration snapped her from blind panic, although his apparent anger didn’t do her fear any favours. “B-but… Then how…”
“‘Hoppit.’ Named it, did’cha?” he grunted, ignoring her confusion and bobbing the rabbit to get her attention again. His gaze shifted back to the animal, the flames of ire cooling slightly. “I was wonderin’ why yer plots ain’t dead yet. Suppose this critter’s why.”
One of her hands hesitantly reached out until she pulled it back, while the other clutched at her chest to stop her heart from hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t act rashly. Not while her baby was in his arms. “I—”
“Soft thing, ain’t it,” the elder kobold commented curiously, cutting her off.
“Y-yes?” she returned reluctantly, struggling to stop herself from lashing out to reclaim the ferrorabbit in his grasp.
“Like fine silk.” Makis tipped and tilted the animal, inspecting this and that with a deep-seated frown, all while Hoppit silently looked to her for help. The pit in her stomach grew. She needed to get him back, but how?
Ceele swallowed the dense dread as she tried to formulate some sort of plan, stumbling over her words and forced smile. “I-it’s nice! Isn’t it nice?”
His eyes snapped back to burrow into her own with hatred. “Wasn’t a compliment, girly.”
“B-but you—”
He released Hoppit’s lower half to jab a claw at the various spikes around his body, plying them with minimal force. “Look. See this? These’r suppose ta break bone. ‘Specially when he’s stiff like this. Ain’t no way I should be able ta bend ‘em. He’s barely more than a walkin’ carcass—all skin ‘n stick. He’s gonna get picked up by a wandering pecker if he keeps pissin’ about out ‘ere. It’s a wonder he’s still kickin’. What’cha feeding ‘em?” His gaze dropped from her face to the rest of her, disgust curling his muzzle into a snarl. “N’ver mind. I can guess.”
She felt the dampness build at the edges of her vision, unprepared to not only worry for Hoppit's immediate health, but also to face such harsh criticism while she was so vulnerable. “I… I try to make sure he has…”
Makis crouched to release the ferrorabbit onto the ground, Ceele dropping to her knees the moment he did. The terrified lagomorph wasted no time, bolting towards his adoptive mother and leaping into her arms, shaking uncontrollably. The rust-coloured ‘bold stared as she started soothingly stroking the animal’s back.
“Yer given’ em the weeds, aren’t ya?” he stated rather than asked. She gave a teary nod when her voice wouldn’t respond for her. The old kobold drew a breath, letting it go in an exasperated sigh as he stood back up, his expression becoming more impatient than antagonistic. “What else?”
“I— Um…”
“What. Else?”
“W-whatever I c-can find!” she sputtered out. Hoppit tried to hide against her neck, prompting her to tighten her hold. She couldn’t stop herself from shrinking, the guilt and confusion pulling her head down. “R-roots, vegetables, fruits… I give them as often as I can.”
His glare continued unimpeded, his cadence cold. “That it?”
There were a million things Ceele wanted to say. A part of her wanted to beg him not to kick them out of the first safe place she had in longer than she could remember, but she couldn’t find the words. She wanted to deny the judgmental tone that stabbed into her insecurity surrounding how good of a job she was doing with Hoppit, but the deadened void in her chest swallowed her pride whole. She knew he was right to critique her. That she was failing in the only thing that mattered anymore. That the feeling of loss would return.
“I try,” she whispered through the beginnings of a sob. “I try to find more, but he needs someone around, and I have to work the garden, so there’s only so much time I can spend looking. He won’t even eat all of what I bring back…” Tears dripped off her cheeks as she aimed a desolate smile at her furry friend. “He wants to make sure I have some too.”
“Yer killin’ em,” Makis pointed out plainly, crossing his arms. “He’ll be dead ‘fore the summer at this rate.”
“I know!” she shouted, forcing back the memories of insidious murmurs that lurked in the back of her mind, eager to creep into her ears again. The hate-filled stares that followed her, the rumours that arrived in towns before she had the chance to make an impression, and the guilt that loomed over her like an executioner's axe… “I know I am… I just… I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know how to make him happy…but I try. I’m trying…”
“…Yer an idiot, girly.”
She looked up to see the elder kobold walking away without another word. Her eyes fell to Hoppit, the ferrorabbit pressing himself against her as much as he could. He was small, thin, soft, and growing weaker by the day, but he never let it keep him down for long. No, he always showed his best for her, giving her joy that wasn’t provided anywhere else. She saw the thin cuts and dried blood, though she didn’t know where they came from, nor how he got out of the shed in the first place. But that was okay. Hoppit was okay, and she had Hoppit, so everything was okay, right?
…But how much longer would everything stay okay? How much longer until her efforts weren’t enough, and she was left desperately reaching for fading memories of what once was? How much longer until she killed her baby too?
How much longer until she was alone again?
Soft footsteps drew near, pulling her from the spiralling thoughts that threatened to gnaw at her soul. Damp, blurry eyes fell on Makis returning with a small wooden crate, the older kobold stopping a few steps away. He dropped the box, a deep, rattling thud produced as it impacted the ground, making Hoppit flinch in her arms. Ceele blinked as she kept him calm, then blinked again, looking up at the man for answers.
“The name, girly,” he spat in irritation. “Ferrorabbit. Ther’ Earth aligned creatures; they need metals. They don’t care where they get it, but they need lots of it. Iron, copper, tin, lead—raw crystal, if they can find it. You name it, they’ll take a chunk out of it. It's why they bother farmers so much; the best soil’s usually top’a gem deposits, ‘n the little bastards have no issue burrowing deep to get it. Dries up the element’s energy ‘n makes the crops weak.”
Ceele’s mouth opened and closed, each unsuccessful attempt to speak making her feel smaller and smaller. More and more lost. Why was he telling her this? How did he know? What was in the—
He kicked the crate with the side of his foot. “Scraps. Don’t’cha look at me like that. I’m a smith, girly. I might be old and retired, but I still work a forge. Now, this ain’t anything pure—it’s just slag and hunks—but I’m sure the critter won’t mind. Your little gardenin’ project pays off, ‘n I’ll see which of my contacts can get in some better ore.”
She ripped her eyes away from the box and met the perpetual scowl of the old kobold, seeing a warmth behind the hostility that she had never noticed before. “…Why?”
He scoffed in amusement, which looked somewhat menacing on such a hardened expression. “Yer a touch stupid, girly, but the missus adores ya, ‘n yer a good worker.” A shadow of a smile formed on his face. “Hira spent more evenings asking ‘bout how the plots are doin’ than I got time in the day. She’d bite my head off if I noticed a critter like that sufferin’ and didn’t lend a hand. ‘Specially when it’s obvious you ain’t tryin’ ta hurt the thing.”
“B-but the garden… Isn’t he a problem?”
Makis rolled his eyes, turning with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If he was, he’da killed it by now. I’d say he’s been keepin’ the others clear ‘n got scratched up for the trouble. That’s more reason to feed ‘em right in my eyes; pay the poor bastard his dues.” He paused after a few steps, shooting her one last incredulous glance. “‘N the rabbit’s right. You’re not much better off than he is. Eat. Before the missus takes my head, preferably. I ain’t need ta hear her worryin’ over you more than I already do.”
And with that, he walked off back to the house, leaving Ceele to sit stunned on the ground with Hoppit quietly nuzzling into her.
“Hoppit…?”
The ferrorabbit perked an ear and gently licked her collar. Fresh tears ran rivulets down her face, yet they didn’t weigh her down. They felt freeing. She adjusted her hold on the rabbit and held him out, taking in the small cuts and numerous other injuries she had never noticed before. He stared back at her with worried eyes.
“You’ve been busy, huh?” she cooed quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. He shrunk in her hands. “I told you to stay home, baby. What if something happened to you? I wouldn’t know where you went, and…”
Her protests died out as she saw what was unmistakably guilt on his little face. She brought him back to her chest and cleared her throat.
“It’s alright, Hoppit. If… If you want to help momma, then we can work together, okay? Just…please don’t go off getting hurt… I don’t know what I’d do without you…” The rabbit didn’t reply, and she was pretty sure she had never heard him make any sounds that weren’t his happy little ear clacks, but she chose to interpret the nuzzling as an agreement. “Such a smart boy…”
She took a breath and wiped off the excess moisture from her cheeks, setting Hoppit down on the ground. “Let’s bring Mr. Makis’ gift in, and then I need to go get more water so we can clean you up, okay?”
He bounced his way to the door of their home, waiting patiently for her to lug the surprisingly heavy crate into the shed. He was even still behaving himself by the time she returned from picking up the things she dropped in her haste. There wasn’t a single protest from the ferrorabbit as she washed over his wounds with warm water, nor when she asked him to wait as she cut up a small salad for him using an extra portion of her rationed vegetables. Finally, once everything else was gone, she tentatively sifted through the box until she found a chunk of something that didn’t look so sharp, then offered it to Hoppit skeptically.
As startling as it was to see him bite through metal without issue, she couldn’t help but tear up again at how pleased he looked with the bizarre addition to his diet. He munched through the first piece, then stared at the box while pawing at the air, asking for more. She obliged through wet laughs, feeling lighter than she had since he first gazed at her from his burrow, alone and afraid, just like she was.
Her little baby was happy, and that made it okay.
Next
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A/N: Thank you to my Patrons, new and returning! No Thanks, Emmanuel, and Megathor join the others who get to read 1 chap ahead!

I've been thinking of buying a pair of TNEC58s but from what I've learned they are more on the narrow side. Since my Cults already seem to narrow for me and start hurting my feet after 1 1/2 h of skating I was wondering if the TNECs might be a solution. Are they narrower or wider than the Cults?

I've been looking for solutions around throttling usage for LLms.
Basically when you call an LLM its a Rest API call something like...
curl -N http://localhost:7800/v1/chat/completions -H "content-type: application/json" -d '{
"model": "llama-2-7b",
"messages": [{"role": "user", "content": "Give me some tips on writing job postings"}]}'
The problem is when running these models in production its easy for them to become flooded with traffic as the usage rises.
I'm looking at something like the https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Token_bucket algorithm and wanted to know if there's something already out there that supports that. Something like...

• A header i.e. "bucket" and then put a user id in there.
• A reverse proxy that picks up the header and keeps track of requests for that user.

Ideally I'd like the reverse proxy to handle the following

• Limit requests
• Limit based on the size of requests i.e. the number of tokens the model returns
• Be configurable at run time.

Does anyone have so ideas and insights?

Hi there,
I've never really used this subreddit before, so I'm not sure whether this post will get somewhere or not. So here goes.
Starting in a couple of months I have an extensive project I need to work on for my education. It involves an essay, a presentation describing my process of completing the essay and some other bits and bobs which I haven't really got into yet. Naturally, having a love for history my whole life, I want to impress, and as such want a quite obscure topic I can write about, one which is rich in sources and things like that so I can write in detail both about the topic and how I researched it.
Some ideas have come to my mind already; I was thinking potentially writing about a person, such as Boris Savinkov or Aisin-Gioro Puyi. Additionally, I was thinking about a period in history with lots of rich information that is often overlooked - the Civl War period in Russia comes to mind, with its dozens of factions and infighting involved on the White Side. Finally, I was even wondering whether to risk looking at alternative history, or perhaps that is a little too far-fetched... if any of you had any further information on that topic in particular, it would be really helpful!
I hope this post isn't overlooked. The help would be a great boon to my research, and ultimately, the way my project does turn out in a year's time. Thank you in advance to those who do reply, and hopefully, I get a wider range of ideas from this!