Where the sidewalk ends tea paragraph
woah
2015.11.04 06:29 thegeneralx woah
my dudes, this is where the sidewalk ends
2022.01.06 00:30 captainsquidsharkk KUWTKsnark
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2017.01.16 14:01 alczas1 FRILL Magazine
2024.06.09 11:40 Pluto_Charon Grimskalle Reimagined (review/experience)
I recently finished running chapter 5 using the Grimskalle Reimagined supplement from DM's Guild; since it's a relatively recent product and I haven't seen any other reviews, I figured I'd share my experiences with it. My party was level 7, and accompanied by Vellynne. I ran the trials using theatre of the mind, with one small exception. Endurance and Cruelty took a session each to get through, while Isolation and Preservation were done in a single session together.
Starting info: each of the trials is paired with one of the Reghed tribes, who are bound by tradition and duty to proctor it in order to keep Auril appeased.
This was probably the most mechanically complex trial presented- in the forest, characters had to scramble to make a fire, obtain food, and hunt animals to make clothes from before the cold set in. On the mountain, the characters need to complete a skill challenge to make their way up without guidance or climbing gear, eventually having a scale a sheer cliff to reach the summit. During this ascent, I rolled a wolf encounter as a complication (they failed the first skill challenge, and had to try again). This fight with the wolves was the only part of the trials I needed a battle map for, and I just used a generic snowfield one I had on hand. While at level 7 a pack of wolves would normally be trivial for them, without their weapons, armor, and a bunch of their spells it was actually rather tense for them.
Everyone made it up the cliff in the end and reached the summit, though with exhaustion levels ranging from 2-4 (since most of them failed several times and/or had acquired a few levels of exhaustion during the ascent). My party had only one player with high strength though, so that probably contributed to how much trouble they had with it.
Overall, I really enjoyed running this trial, though it required a lot of pre-reading to make sure I thoroughly understood all the mechanics it was using. The last section also might be trivialized if your party has a character with a flight speed.
Pregnancy/birth horror just isn't my cup of tea, so I instead used the alternate Preservation trial from this post.
This part was where my players took the opportunity to really shine when it came to roleplaying, to the point where I kind of regretted having them split up since they didn't get to see how good the others all were. Part of this, I think, came from me telling them in advance to think about these questions in regards to their characters, so they weren't scrambling on the spot to make answers up.
The characters had to make 3 saving throws, one for each mental stat (intelligence, wisdom, and charisma)- a success got a boon, a failure got a bane (a table of these with examples were provided). I like this concept, but I think some of the boons/banes were far too strong, and ended up making some of my own for my players instead of using what was provided.
Both the enemies and the friends that the characters were tasked with killing were NPCs that the players had encountered before during the campaign and had formed emotional connections too, both positive and negative. This did make things tricky for one player though- his character had actually died right before they set off for Solstice, so he'd brought in his new character essentially two sessions before they started the trials. That meant his character's secret (Harper Agent) had to do most of the heavy lifting here, since the character hadn't been around long enough to have any connections with NPCs.
submitted by Pluto_Charon to rimeofthefrostmaiden [link] [comments]
Starting info: each of the trials is paired with one of the Reghed tribes, who are bound by tradition and duty to proctor it in order to keep Auril appeased.
Endurance
The trial consists of the party being teleported to the base of Kelvin's Cairn with no clothes or gear, and having to make their way up to the peak. It's divided into two basic parts: the forest and the mountain.This was probably the most mechanically complex trial presented- in the forest, characters had to scramble to make a fire, obtain food, and hunt animals to make clothes from before the cold set in. On the mountain, the characters need to complete a skill challenge to make their way up without guidance or climbing gear, eventually having a scale a sheer cliff to reach the summit. During this ascent, I rolled a wolf encounter as a complication (they failed the first skill challenge, and had to try again). This fight with the wolves was the only part of the trials I needed a battle map for, and I just used a generic snowfield one I had on hand. While at level 7 a pack of wolves would normally be trivial for them, without their weapons, armor, and a bunch of their spells it was actually rather tense for them.
Everyone made it up the cliff in the end and reached the summit, though with exhaustion levels ranging from 2-4 (since most of them failed several times and/or had acquired a few levels of exhaustion during the ascent). My party had only one player with high strength though, so that probably contributed to how much trouble they had with it.
Overall, I really enjoyed running this trial, though it required a lot of pre-reading to make sure I thoroughly understood all the mechanics it was using. The last section also might be trivialized if your party has a character with a flight speed.
Preservation
I did not use the Grimskalle Reimagined version of this trial; I did not feel comfortable describing the content to my group and/or having them roleplay with it. To sum it up: a woman supernaturally becomes pregnant rapidly, gives birth to a daughter and dies in childbirth, and the child then ages rapidly and is herself afflicted with the same curse. This repeats until the party realizes they have to 'preserve' the woman currently experiencing the curse by taking her outside the tent so that she freezes, thus stopping the curse (and killing her).Pregnancy/birth horror just isn't my cup of tea, so I instead used the alternate Preservation trial from this post.
Isolation
In this trial, the party is sent to a labyrinth of mirrored, icy passageways: I had my players separate into different tunnels and have them go through the trials alone, rather than them all being able to see/hear what the others were going through. The characters were confronted with 3 questions: what they feared most about themselves, what shamed them most, and what brought them the most pride.This part was where my players took the opportunity to really shine when it came to roleplaying, to the point where I kind of regretted having them split up since they didn't get to see how good the others all were. Part of this, I think, came from me telling them in advance to think about these questions in regards to their characters, so they weren't scrambling on the spot to make answers up.
The characters had to make 3 saving throws, one for each mental stat (intelligence, wisdom, and charisma)- a success got a boon, a failure got a bane (a table of these with examples were provided). I like this concept, but I think some of the boons/banes were far too strong, and ended up making some of my own for my players instead of using what was provided.
Cruelty
In this trial, the players are each tasked with killing three people: a stranger (prisoners of the Tiger tribe, who are administering this trial), an enemy, and a friend. This was another one that was almost entirely roleplay- one religious character rolled religion to try and determine if her god would approve of her choice, but that was about the extent of the dice rolls for this trial. This one was definitely the one that was the hardest on the players and the characters- all of them went through with killing the prisoners and the enemies, but it was about a 50/50 split if they could bring themselves to kill the friendly characters or not.Both the enemies and the friends that the characters were tasked with killing were NPCs that the players had encountered before during the campaign and had formed emotional connections too, both positive and negative. This did make things tricky for one player though- his character had actually died right before they set off for Solstice, so he'd brought in his new character essentially two sessions before they started the trials. That meant his character's secret (Harper Agent) had to do most of the heavy lifting here, since the character hadn't been around long enough to have any connections with NPCs.
General Thoughts
Overall, I think Grimskalle Reimagined is a good supplement, and I think my players enjoyed its trials a lot more than they would've the vanilla ones. It does require a fair bit of reading ahead of time (particularly the Endurance trial with all its details), and will work best I think with groups that enjoy a lot of roleplaying.2024.06.09 11:03 ghost_of_john_muir Allen Ginsberg… the pederast?
I’ve read a good amount of Ginsberg’s poetry and I’ll be honest, I didn’t like it. So I never did much of a deep dive on him as a person & for all I know this is common knowledge… but I was reading Andrea Dworkin’s memoir today and she talked about their brief friendship which I’ve pasted below. It’s long for context but I bolded the important parts if you wanna skim:
I googled it after because i don’t blindly trust anything I read in any book. I found this long article with a NAMBLA context from someone who was clearly a huge Ginsberg fan. Despite the minimization sprinkled throughout the author makes clear Ginsberg did participate for this organization for years, and was in fact kinda the face of the thing.
So did y’all know this? If you’re a Ginsberg fan do you care? One of my criticisms with, like, Howl for instance was that I thought the pornographic language gratuitous. There is no language so coarse as to bother me from a moral standpoint, for instance I like Henry Miller very much, but I thought it was shock for shock’s sake. If I recall correctly, Howl resulted in a lawsuit over it being banned. I believed then the “cunt wheelbarrows” (or whatever it was - im on my phone & this is from memory) to be a most excellent marketing plan for media attention.
Someone did eventually explain to me that the graphic language was to represent consumeristic culture / selling sex etc. so then I thought the lawsuit garnering him so many fans (book sales!!) was clever in an Andy Kaufmann-esque way - taking his art from poem to performance art - using a critique about consumerism to advertise for free (lawyer fees? But news telling you you can’t read something is sooo much more effective than a magazine ad). beatnik Ouroboros?
But after reading Bworkin & the article linked above… I’m kinda just back to where I started. Maybe he was just a philiac who figured out a way to talk dirty in public, maybe hoping to find some Holden Caulfield in the crowd enamored by his lack of “phoniness” to come back & see his obscure music collection & talk about how teachers really /don’t/ get him, or whatever.
TLDR: The question at the end of the day for Ginsberg: Kaufmann DaDa, Grecian dada, or both?
submitted by ghost_of_john_muir to quentin_taranturtle [link] [comments]
I did go to New York just to see him, but when I got to New York I was too shy to call him. I'd spend every waking hour worrying about how to make the call. I picked a rainy night. He answered the phone. “Come on over now, ” he said. I told him that he was much too busy. I told him that it was raining. I went anyway, shaking on the wet sidewalks, shaking on the bus, so nervous on the five flights up to his apartment that I could barely keep my balance. As always when I was nervous, I broke into a cold sweat.[…]
He had warned me that he was working on proofs for a new book of poems and would have very little time for me, but we spent the whole night talking - well, okay, not all of it but many hours of it. He then walked me down to the bus in the rain and told me he loved me. I counted. He told me eleven times.
When Elsa [the photographer they shared] had a baby I was asked to be his godmother and Ginsberg was his godfather. We were now, metaphysically speaking, joined in unholy matrimony. And still I stayed away from him. I did not see him again, since that time in college, until my godson was bar mitzvahed. By this time I had published many books, including my work attacking pornography - the artifacts, the philosophy, the politics.-Heartbreak: The Political Memoir of a Feminist Militant - Andrea Dworkin
On the day of the bar mitzvah newspapers reported in huge headlines that the Supreme Court had ruled child pornography illegal. I was thrilled. I knew that Allen would not be. I did think he was a civil libertarian. But in fact, he was a pedophile. He did not belong to the North American Man-Boy Love Association out of some mad, abstract conviction that its voice had to be heard. He meant it. I take this from what Allen said directly to me, not from some inference I made. He was exceptionally aggressive about his right to fuck children and his constant pursuit of underage boys.
I did everything I could to avoid Allen and to avoid conflict. This was my godson’s day. He did not need a political struggle to the death breaking out all over.
Ginsberg would not leave me alone. He followed me everywhere I went from the lobby of the hotel through the whole reception, then during the dinner. He photographed me constantly with a vicious little camera he wore around his neck. He sat next to me and wanted to know details of sexual abuse I had suffered. A lovely woman, not knowing that his interest was entirely pornographic, told a terrible story of being molested by a neighbor. He ignored her. She had thought, “This is Allen Ginsberg, the great beat poet and a prince of empathy. ” Wrong. Ginsberg told me that he had never met an intelligent person who had the ideas I did. I told him he didn’t get around enough. He pointed to the friends of my godson and said they were old enough to fuck. They were twelve and thirteen. He said that all sex was good, including forced sex.
I am good at getting rid of men, strictly in the above-board sense. I couldn’t get rid of Allen. Finally I had had it. ** Referring back to the Supreme Court’s decision banning child pornography he said, “The right wants to put me in jail. ” I said, “Yes, they’re very sentimental; I’d kill you. ” The next day he’d point at me in crowded rooms and screech, “She wants to put me in jail. ” I’d say, “No, Allen, you still don’t get it. The right wants to put you in jail. I want you dead. ” **
He told everyone his fucked-up version of the story (“You want to put me in jail”) for years. When he died he stopped.”
I googled it after because i don’t blindly trust anything I read in any book. I found this long article with a NAMBLA context from someone who was clearly a huge Ginsberg fan. Despite the minimization sprinkled throughout the author makes clear Ginsberg did participate for this organization for years, and was in fact kinda the face of the thing.
So did y’all know this? If you’re a Ginsberg fan do you care? One of my criticisms with, like, Howl for instance was that I thought the pornographic language gratuitous. There is no language so coarse as to bother me from a moral standpoint, for instance I like Henry Miller very much, but I thought it was shock for shock’s sake. If I recall correctly, Howl resulted in a lawsuit over it being banned. I believed then the “cunt wheelbarrows” (or whatever it was - im on my phone & this is from memory) to be a most excellent marketing plan for media attention.
Someone did eventually explain to me that the graphic language was to represent consumeristic culture / selling sex etc. so then I thought the lawsuit garnering him so many fans (book sales!!) was clever in an Andy Kaufmann-esque way - taking his art from poem to performance art - using a critique about consumerism to advertise for free (lawyer fees? But news telling you you can’t read something is sooo much more effective than a magazine ad). beatnik Ouroboros?
But after reading Bworkin & the article linked above… I’m kinda just back to where I started. Maybe he was just a philiac who figured out a way to talk dirty in public, maybe hoping to find some Holden Caulfield in the crowd enamored by his lack of “phoniness” to come back & see his obscure music collection & talk about how teachers really /don’t/ get him, or whatever.
TLDR: The question at the end of the day for Ginsberg: Kaufmann DaDa, Grecian dada, or both?
2024.06.09 10:17 DeliciousOnion6898 Am I making a mistake with divorcing my wife? (Long story given). 33M and 31F
I'm looking for advice on whether or not Im (33 years old) thinking about this right and what your general thoughts are on divorcing my wife (31 years old) Thank you!
My wife and I got married 5 years ago and it has been stressful, although we do have good times. Ive recently left the house after a huge blow out with the intention of divorcing and Im terrified it's a mistake.
My main issues with her are that she lashes out a lot, she will not see my family, I wonder about narcissistic traits with her, and I feel like Ive drained myself with out getting what I need back.
Lashing out: she has a lot of trauma before meeting me and there are some things that easily trigger her. She comes from a big family where physical abuse happened growing up and ove witnessed some pretty aweful petty stuff. She acknowledges this which is great. But she gets so mean, mocks me, and calls me names. It has been happening for years. She'll eventually apologize but I just anticipate it now as it always happens. I have always felt like Im walking on egg shells. Ive always excused it and easily forgive her because I love her and see her past but its just not fair to me.
She will not see my family: my mom can sometimes be slightly intrusive. Recently my mom sent me a text asking me what to do for my birthday and then said oh never mind your wife should plan that, which she wasnt. My wife exploded. I addressed it with my mom because that was inappropriate and my mom took accountability and apologized. Then my wife tried to plan a dinner and a group bday gift for me with my fam but ended up freaking out after texting with my mom and told me my mom was bullying her and being so rude. I asked to see the texts and my wife had deleted them. I told her I was going to ask my mom to see the texts (this was because I have a hard time believing what my wife says about my mom but if its true I wanted to see it and then address it) and then my wife got even more mad at me saying that I wont understand when I see the texts. Eventually I saw the texts and my mom very nicely asked if they could go to a different restaurant (my wife planned to go to an expensive one) because my sister wouldnt be able to afford it and make it. My mom also said she was planning a separate gift for me. To me, the texts from my mom were actually very pleasant and worded very nicely. This is just one example of all the "abuse" she takes from my family. I eventually cancelled the dinner because I just knew we would have a massive fight after the dinner...which my wife was completely fine with. I get you are supposed to support and maybe even side with your wife when you think that shes wrong, but I cant get over the fact that my wife takes it out on me when I inquire into the "abuse" calling me a "mommas boy" and having an emotional incestuous relationship with my own mom. She says she controls me, which I really dont think is true. Im so upset because I have refrained from communicating with my mom because the risk is too high where my wife might misinterpret things and lash out on me...for hours. Another example is that I visited with my mom a few weeks ago and my mom bought my wife her favorite flowers for me to give to her. My wife lost it and said my mom was doing that to manipulate me to make it seem like she is being nice which paints my wife as the crazy one. My mom is really nice..does a lot of charity...just a sweet kind lady who trys to see the best in the worste people. I know this by her actions. But one thing I will say is that I sense that my mom doesnt think my wife treats me nice and may be protective which my wife may be picking up on too.
Narcissistic traits: (1) having a mature conversation feels impossible: It feels like pulling teeth and its the most frustrating experience of my life. She diverts the convos and gets petty and I never feel heard. I can take accountability for 90% of the convo and then say how i "FEEL" about something and how she hurt me and the conversation gets derailed..etc. tells me she doesnt feel heard (I literally reiterate everything she says and how she feels so she will know I am hearing her) (2) flips everything around on me: Ive noticed that when I bring up an issue with her...days later she will accuse me of doing that same thing (e.g. not taking ownership). Over the years Ive told her Ive felt gaslit, she doesnt take ownership, etc and now thats all part of her issues with me and I find my self very regularly frantically trying to explain myself and trying to validate her feelings and comfort her. Its like completely flipped. A year ago i remember leaving the house to stop a fight and eventually I told her that I was panicking because it felt like she was psychologically and emotionally abusive. She the went quiet for a few seconds and goes "ya I think you are a narcissist" and then I found myself trying to explain myself for numerous problems that she had with me..then the next day it was like nothing happened and my panicked state and issues werent addressed (3) possible reactive abuse: She will go for a long time just being plain cruel and yelling and ill stay calm and doing my best to listen but eventually snap and be mean back. I feel aweful because I admit I can get mean too. Ive never been like that before (people have told me im especially gentle and understanding...but she says the same thing that people say that about her and shes never fought like that before either). Then she will remember how I was mean and hold it against me and I apologize and try and comfort her but my issues with her never feel heard or accounted for. I know for a fact I only get like that after she goes at me for a while and I just listen and take it and try and work through it (4) I feel like ive been isolated from my fam: Last christmas she came and I payed a lot of attention to any sort of passive aggressiveness from my mom or fam and felt so good because it was so pleasant but on the way home she just exploded at me saying they were aweful. (5) ive questioned my own reality so much: Am I the narcissist? Is my mom really bullying her? Am I just a man child? It goes against everything I thought I knew. (6) I feel like as long as I listen and do what she wants, agree with her, dont share how I feel, there will be no fights. (7) doesnt let me sleep. She will fight and fight and I try and stop it but she just wont stop. Sometimes its like she purposefully makes really loud sounds to wake me up. Like unneccesary sounds. I try and calmly address but it goes no where. Sometimes I get mad which is on me (unless shes doing it purposefully). (8) when ive addressed how she hurts me, shes said to me on numerous occassions that she almost wants me to go and date so I can see how bad it is out there and that I dont have it so bad with her. (9) we have huge fights on special occassions. My past three birthdays and my grandpas funeral were ended with big fights about what Im doing wrong and how my fam is mean to her.
The above paragraph really messes with me because there are times when shes so soft and vulnerable and nice. She has done some extremely thoughtful kind things for me. Its just that she can get SO mean and SO petty like she has zero emotional maturity. Its not fair to me.
Pouring myself out: i feel drained and like I dont recognize myself (she says the same things about herself too!). I once told her I wanted to quit my job bc I was so stressed from work place issues and she told me she would leave me if I quit (she did move to be with me and took a far less desirable career to be with me). That comment sent me over the edge and I went on antidepressants (for a few months) and just powered through it all. I feel like I give so much emotionally to it all and dont get it back. The fights completely drain me and I can barely find energy to clean and do basic things needing to be done. She then says I leave her to do most things, which is pretty true, but I know its because I just feel so exhausted. Before her I was very high achieving in running a business etc and staying on top of everything. Shes accused me that now im just comfortable and lazy because she will do everything for me.
A few nights ago she said she wanted a divorce and that she is just so miserable (shes really mentally suffering too and seeks professional help). She left and blocked me. The next day she came back crying and shaking and apologizing saying she cant picture her life with out me. We talked and talked and I spent so much time validating her and eventually I said "its just so hard for me because you dont like my fam and they are trying with you" and she lost it, mocked me, and called me names. Her issue was that I didnt acknowledge why she doesnt like them...but I just spent over an hour validating that! Then I left and said I wanted a trial separation.
I feel so confused. Im really questioning if im the narcissist or im just blind to my fams manipulation and control. If thats true and wont change, then I think that she is better off with out me so she can be happy. But when I think about me, in all cases, ive been so unhappy for years and only recently in the past 6 months have been really taking good care of my health. To top up on the confusion point, my wife did a bunch of psych assesmemts and was diagnosed with adhd, with an intelligence in the 92nd percentile (I think thats genious/mensa level??) but a working memory in the 37th percentile (reaalllly bad and considered a disability). So I wonder how that contributes to this all. My memory is pretty good but my IQ is about 125...for further context. Ive always said to that she is way smarter than which I really do believe.
So now I feel like ive abandoned her and want to help her and I cant bare to see her in pain. I almost want to stay and just accept ill be miserable to make sure she doesnt cry. Its so hard because I have a lot of love and care for her.
Fyi..weve done a couple years of counselling together. Its worked well only to the extent that she acknowledges how shes been hurt in the past and wrongfully lashes out at me and ive learned how to validate her feelings better. She asks me continually to read marriage books and go to counselling myself which I havent done.
submitted by DeliciousOnion6898 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
My wife and I got married 5 years ago and it has been stressful, although we do have good times. Ive recently left the house after a huge blow out with the intention of divorcing and Im terrified it's a mistake.
My main issues with her are that she lashes out a lot, she will not see my family, I wonder about narcissistic traits with her, and I feel like Ive drained myself with out getting what I need back.
Lashing out: she has a lot of trauma before meeting me and there are some things that easily trigger her. She comes from a big family where physical abuse happened growing up and ove witnessed some pretty aweful petty stuff. She acknowledges this which is great. But she gets so mean, mocks me, and calls me names. It has been happening for years. She'll eventually apologize but I just anticipate it now as it always happens. I have always felt like Im walking on egg shells. Ive always excused it and easily forgive her because I love her and see her past but its just not fair to me.
She will not see my family: my mom can sometimes be slightly intrusive. Recently my mom sent me a text asking me what to do for my birthday and then said oh never mind your wife should plan that, which she wasnt. My wife exploded. I addressed it with my mom because that was inappropriate and my mom took accountability and apologized. Then my wife tried to plan a dinner and a group bday gift for me with my fam but ended up freaking out after texting with my mom and told me my mom was bullying her and being so rude. I asked to see the texts and my wife had deleted them. I told her I was going to ask my mom to see the texts (this was because I have a hard time believing what my wife says about my mom but if its true I wanted to see it and then address it) and then my wife got even more mad at me saying that I wont understand when I see the texts. Eventually I saw the texts and my mom very nicely asked if they could go to a different restaurant (my wife planned to go to an expensive one) because my sister wouldnt be able to afford it and make it. My mom also said she was planning a separate gift for me. To me, the texts from my mom were actually very pleasant and worded very nicely. This is just one example of all the "abuse" she takes from my family. I eventually cancelled the dinner because I just knew we would have a massive fight after the dinner...which my wife was completely fine with. I get you are supposed to support and maybe even side with your wife when you think that shes wrong, but I cant get over the fact that my wife takes it out on me when I inquire into the "abuse" calling me a "mommas boy" and having an emotional incestuous relationship with my own mom. She says she controls me, which I really dont think is true. Im so upset because I have refrained from communicating with my mom because the risk is too high where my wife might misinterpret things and lash out on me...for hours. Another example is that I visited with my mom a few weeks ago and my mom bought my wife her favorite flowers for me to give to her. My wife lost it and said my mom was doing that to manipulate me to make it seem like she is being nice which paints my wife as the crazy one. My mom is really nice..does a lot of charity...just a sweet kind lady who trys to see the best in the worste people. I know this by her actions. But one thing I will say is that I sense that my mom doesnt think my wife treats me nice and may be protective which my wife may be picking up on too.
Narcissistic traits: (1) having a mature conversation feels impossible: It feels like pulling teeth and its the most frustrating experience of my life. She diverts the convos and gets petty and I never feel heard. I can take accountability for 90% of the convo and then say how i "FEEL" about something and how she hurt me and the conversation gets derailed..etc. tells me she doesnt feel heard (I literally reiterate everything she says and how she feels so she will know I am hearing her) (2) flips everything around on me: Ive noticed that when I bring up an issue with her...days later she will accuse me of doing that same thing (e.g. not taking ownership). Over the years Ive told her Ive felt gaslit, she doesnt take ownership, etc and now thats all part of her issues with me and I find my self very regularly frantically trying to explain myself and trying to validate her feelings and comfort her. Its like completely flipped. A year ago i remember leaving the house to stop a fight and eventually I told her that I was panicking because it felt like she was psychologically and emotionally abusive. She the went quiet for a few seconds and goes "ya I think you are a narcissist" and then I found myself trying to explain myself for numerous problems that she had with me..then the next day it was like nothing happened and my panicked state and issues werent addressed (3) possible reactive abuse: She will go for a long time just being plain cruel and yelling and ill stay calm and doing my best to listen but eventually snap and be mean back. I feel aweful because I admit I can get mean too. Ive never been like that before (people have told me im especially gentle and understanding...but she says the same thing that people say that about her and shes never fought like that before either). Then she will remember how I was mean and hold it against me and I apologize and try and comfort her but my issues with her never feel heard or accounted for. I know for a fact I only get like that after she goes at me for a while and I just listen and take it and try and work through it (4) I feel like ive been isolated from my fam: Last christmas she came and I payed a lot of attention to any sort of passive aggressiveness from my mom or fam and felt so good because it was so pleasant but on the way home she just exploded at me saying they were aweful. (5) ive questioned my own reality so much: Am I the narcissist? Is my mom really bullying her? Am I just a man child? It goes against everything I thought I knew. (6) I feel like as long as I listen and do what she wants, agree with her, dont share how I feel, there will be no fights. (7) doesnt let me sleep. She will fight and fight and I try and stop it but she just wont stop. Sometimes its like she purposefully makes really loud sounds to wake me up. Like unneccesary sounds. I try and calmly address but it goes no where. Sometimes I get mad which is on me (unless shes doing it purposefully). (8) when ive addressed how she hurts me, shes said to me on numerous occassions that she almost wants me to go and date so I can see how bad it is out there and that I dont have it so bad with her. (9) we have huge fights on special occassions. My past three birthdays and my grandpas funeral were ended with big fights about what Im doing wrong and how my fam is mean to her.
The above paragraph really messes with me because there are times when shes so soft and vulnerable and nice. She has done some extremely thoughtful kind things for me. Its just that she can get SO mean and SO petty like she has zero emotional maturity. Its not fair to me.
Pouring myself out: i feel drained and like I dont recognize myself (she says the same things about herself too!). I once told her I wanted to quit my job bc I was so stressed from work place issues and she told me she would leave me if I quit (she did move to be with me and took a far less desirable career to be with me). That comment sent me over the edge and I went on antidepressants (for a few months) and just powered through it all. I feel like I give so much emotionally to it all and dont get it back. The fights completely drain me and I can barely find energy to clean and do basic things needing to be done. She then says I leave her to do most things, which is pretty true, but I know its because I just feel so exhausted. Before her I was very high achieving in running a business etc and staying on top of everything. Shes accused me that now im just comfortable and lazy because she will do everything for me.
A few nights ago she said she wanted a divorce and that she is just so miserable (shes really mentally suffering too and seeks professional help). She left and blocked me. The next day she came back crying and shaking and apologizing saying she cant picture her life with out me. We talked and talked and I spent so much time validating her and eventually I said "its just so hard for me because you dont like my fam and they are trying with you" and she lost it, mocked me, and called me names. Her issue was that I didnt acknowledge why she doesnt like them...but I just spent over an hour validating that! Then I left and said I wanted a trial separation.
I feel so confused. Im really questioning if im the narcissist or im just blind to my fams manipulation and control. If thats true and wont change, then I think that she is better off with out me so she can be happy. But when I think about me, in all cases, ive been so unhappy for years and only recently in the past 6 months have been really taking good care of my health. To top up on the confusion point, my wife did a bunch of psych assesmemts and was diagnosed with adhd, with an intelligence in the 92nd percentile (I think thats genious/mensa level??) but a working memory in the 37th percentile (reaalllly bad and considered a disability). So I wonder how that contributes to this all. My memory is pretty good but my IQ is about 125...for further context. Ive always said to that she is way smarter than which I really do believe.
So now I feel like ive abandoned her and want to help her and I cant bare to see her in pain. I almost want to stay and just accept ill be miserable to make sure she doesnt cry. Its so hard because I have a lot of love and care for her.
Fyi..weve done a couple years of counselling together. Its worked well only to the extent that she acknowledges how shes been hurt in the past and wrongfully lashes out at me and ive learned how to validate her feelings better. She asks me continually to read marriage books and go to counselling myself which I havent done.
2024.06.09 10:09 No_Prize5369 Lost upon the margins of a grey and leafless world: Why so many people don't enjoy the LoTR books.
I think it's a pretty common occurence that people really like the LoTR movies, and then, when they start the books they end up finding them boring and rather a slog. Why?
Well, the main reason is that there is a divide between expectations and what LoTR actually is. The Lord of the Rings books were written by someone who spent his entire life creating languages and building a mythos. Importantly he also served in the most traumatic and violent war of all time, until 20 years later when even that (WWI) was surpassed. He didn't want to glorify or focus on war. He wanted to focus on the world that he built, atmosphere of that world, and the moral impacts of war, industrialization etc upon the world and it's characters.
For instance, almost all the violence happens offscreen, and very often worldbuilding is prioritised over tension in the story and generally accepted story structure. The most blatant example of this is the beginning with Tom Bombadil, where the tension of the story is broken for a whole chapter, there is an all-powerful get-out-of-jail-for-free card, who makes fun of the main object of the entire story and breaks all tension. Now, LoTR is NOT a bad story, it's simply suboptimal due to the author prioritising worldbuilding over story. And this is the point. Don't read LoTR like a page turner. There are indeed many parts of the books which are like this. But many parts of LoTR are about atmosphere, themes, and worldbuilding rather than 'action'. What I reccomend you do is read one chapter every night under your blankets with tea, or go sit outside in the sun, or, even better, take the audiobook and goo for a walk outside while listeniinbg to JRRT's worldbuilding.
So what's the problem with this? Is there anyone who complains about Anna Karenina not having enough action? No, but that's because of the different expectations. The movies are far more about action than the books, because movies are inherently a medium for action. Apart from that attention spans and the fantasy genre are changing over time, and there is expectation of more action and less walking, descriptions etc.
And that's the problem. People have the wrong expectations of LoTR. The point was worldbuilding, atmosphere, and thematic significance, not constant thrills, Enjoy the greatest world ever created. Read, perhaps a chapter per day rather than speed-reading it. Anyways that's my take.
submitted by No_Prize5369 to lotr [link] [comments]
Well, the main reason is that there is a divide between expectations and what LoTR actually is. The Lord of the Rings books were written by someone who spent his entire life creating languages and building a mythos. Importantly he also served in the most traumatic and violent war of all time, until 20 years later when even that (WWI) was surpassed. He didn't want to glorify or focus on war. He wanted to focus on the world that he built, atmosphere of that world, and the moral impacts of war, industrialization etc upon the world and it's characters.
For instance, almost all the violence happens offscreen, and very often worldbuilding is prioritised over tension in the story and generally accepted story structure. The most blatant example of this is the beginning with Tom Bombadil, where the tension of the story is broken for a whole chapter, there is an all-powerful get-out-of-jail-for-free card, who makes fun of the main object of the entire story and breaks all tension. Now, LoTR is NOT a bad story, it's simply suboptimal due to the author prioritising worldbuilding over story. And this is the point. Don't read LoTR like a page turner. There are indeed many parts of the books which are like this. But many parts of LoTR are about atmosphere, themes, and worldbuilding rather than 'action'. What I reccomend you do is read one chapter every night under your blankets with tea, or go sit outside in the sun, or, even better, take the audiobook and goo for a walk outside while listeniinbg to JRRT's worldbuilding.
So what's the problem with this? Is there anyone who complains about Anna Karenina not having enough action? No, but that's because of the different expectations. The movies are far more about action than the books, because movies are inherently a medium for action. Apart from that attention spans and the fantasy genre are changing over time, and there is expectation of more action and less walking, descriptions etc.
And that's the problem. People have the wrong expectations of LoTR. The point was worldbuilding, atmosphere, and thematic significance, not constant thrills, Enjoy the greatest world ever created. Read, perhaps a chapter per day rather than speed-reading it. Anyways that's my take.
2024.06.09 09:32 TaranAlvein I'm currently running Dragonheist, and two of my players turned a run-of-the-mill sidequest into a legendary roleplaying session.
As stated above, I'm currently running the Dragonheist campaign, so if you're currently playing it and haven't at least completed the Zhentarim's second sidequest, I would advise against reading the spoilers.
The stars of this particular tale are a pair of evil party members: The jester, Stitches, and the former Zhentarim thug, Kanno. Stitches is a College of Lore Bard with the Charlatan background, whose favorite con was impersonating others. Kanno is a Fighter, whom I had worked out with the player to be a former follower of Manshoon, who left after a betrayal by his former master. As a result, Kanno was quick to seize opportunities to make money, which he needed for his revenge.
The party has just experienced the beginning of the "Fireball" event, and conducted a fruitful investigation. Afterwards, they were questioned by Barnibus Blastwind and Saethe Cromley. Once the two had left, Stitches' player asked me whether their conversation with Barnibus had lasted for more than a minute. I answered in the affirmative, asked why, and then suddenly realized that he could now impersonate Barnibus. I didn't expect that to come into play so soon, though.
The party's first stop was to meet with Davil, to find out what he knew about the Zhentarim operatives that were killed at the scene of the blast. Since the men who died don't work for him, that lead was a dead-end. However, I took the opportunity to provide the party with the second Zhentarim sidequest, to deliver potions for Skeemo Weirdbottle. Since the party couldn't think of a next step for their investigation, in spite of all of the clues they had gathered, they decided to do the job to make some quick change.
It was here that Stitches began scheming. On the way to Skeemo's, he stopped at another apothecary, and was able to convince the man to tell him what a Potion of Mind Reading looks like. He also explained his plan to Kanno, operating under the assumption that it would be a large shipment, and that nobody would notice if a bottle or two were to "break" or "be confiscated by the Watch" when they made the delivery. Fortunately, they at least had the sense to realize that losing one bottle out of a delivery of four was not feasible. It was my mistake to think that this would be the end of the scheme.
Arriving at the Godcatcher with their cargo, they quickly spotted the intended recipient sitting in a hire-coach. After delivering the box, the woman inspected the goods, then quickly handed the party their reward and told the driver to get out of there. It was then that Stitches acted. Casting Message, he informed the driver, "Eyes are on you, take a roundabout route." While I had originally intended for the driver to take a circuitous route back anyways (I assumed that the woman was already taking precautions, given the nature of the sidequest), I had Stitches roll Persuasion. His result was good enough that I decided that the driver wouldn't tell his client about the missive, assuming that he was being reminded of his instructions by a compatriot of hers.
Meanwhile, Stitches hailed another hire-coach, and informed the party that he and Kanno would be "Following up on other leads", and that he hoped to "Earn a little bit of a bigger tip", or something to that effect. I didn't really want them to try to follow her, especially since what they were planning was obviously going to involve committing a crime of some kind, but I also wasn't going to just give them a hard "No", so I decided to make it difficult.
First, I rolled to see how many turns would pass before they could get a cab, and got a result of 3. Well, that's to be expected, it's a pretty well-travelled area, so cabs should be readily available there. I then had the driver balk at taking them without a set destination in mind, since fares are negotiated and paid before travel begins. Stitches, thinking fast, tells him to take them as far as 1 gold would go, and given the cost of a hire-coach, I had him reply that, "Sure, you've got me for an hour".
Since the module doesn't really contain rules for a vehicular chase, and I didn't want to waste time flipping through the DMG looking for something, I decided to modify the chase rules found on page 72. I had one of them roll a d20 for the outset, and Stitches rolled a natural 20, so they encountered no obstacles leaving the square. But they'd still have to actually find their quarry's vehicle, since it was currently going around the square a few times, and ducking up and down sidestreets. Oh, no problem, a 15 and a 22 on Perception quickly spotted the woman's cab, and a quick lie about their intent set their own driver to following her at a distance of about 100 feet.
I then began a few rounds of rolling d20s to determine how the chase would go. After both their cab and the one they were following rolled well enough to avoid mishap on two successive checks, I informed them that their quarry had finally stopped its erratic travel, and was now moving straight up The High Road, seemingly now on its way back, and called for one more round of checks. My hope was that they would follow her home, see that they were messing with a noble, and back off. Instead, I rolled a 2 for the NPC's coach, while they managed to avoid mishap once again. Since they had just been asking their cabbie about possibly finding a shortcut to head them off, I decided that they would see the hire-coach ahead of them stopping due to a fruit-cart in the middle of the road having a broken wheel. I informed them that the coach they were following was waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic so that it could go around.
Once again, they defied my expectations. Playing their previous lie to the hilt, they departed from their cab and approached the stopped vehicle, where the dice gods granted their blessing upon the absolute Indy Ploy they rolled out. First, the two ducked into an alleyway, where Stitches cast Disguise Self to make himself look like Barnibus Blastwind. Then, using his Performance to do a bit of voice mimicry, he approached the fruit cart vendor, slipped him a silver piece, and started making a big production about "Reckless drivers these days!", and the negligent driving that damaged the wheel on this poor fruit vendor's cart!
I called for Persuasion, and with a 19, the fruit cart vendor decided that he wasn't one to say no to free money, and started playing along, albeit very passively. A Performance result of 23 ensured that not only was Stitches able to do a spot-on impression of Barnibus' voice and mannerisms, but that he was starting to draw the crowd's attention as well, just as he had hoped. Stitches started demanding compensation from the hire-coach driver, who was incredulous that he was being blamed for this. The fact that Stitches was demanding two Platinum as compensation only made him more certain that this was some kind of shakedown, and he adamantly refused to pay for something that he had nothing to do with.
For the lady's part, I rolled absolutely abysmally. A natural 1 on her Insight check led her to also assume that this was some clumsy attempt at extortion, and she chimed in that even if her driver had damaged the cart, he would only have to pay damages to the owner, not the exorbitant fee that Stitches/Barnibus was demanding. She also demanded to know exactly who he was. Stitches obliged.
...And here, ignorance proved to be a strength as well. See, Stitches didn't actually know Barnibus' last name. Nor did he know that Barnibus was only a consultant, and not a member of the Watch. And so, he introduced himself as "Inspector Barney of the City Watch". And the woman, failing yet another check, didn't question the obvious lie. And besides, as a secret member of the city's criminal class, she's not exactly looking for a confrontation with the City Watch right now. And so, the two started talking in circles for a bit, both the lady's driver and the lady herself being a little confused by what exactly Stitches was looking for, since even his own demands were, by design, self-contradictory and bizarre. The only reason they didn't just leave was because the traffic on their side of the road was at a standstill due to the broken cart.
Meanwhile, while Stitches held their attention, Kanno emerged from the alley he was observing from and slipped around to the other side of the lady's hire-coach. After ascertaining from him exactly what he intended to do, I had him roll Stealth, but informed him that there was a fair-sized crowd gathered, and that while the hire coach would block people from seeing him on their side of the road, and the oncoming dray would block the view from the other sidewalk, he would still be visible to the people on board the dray, and that a bad Stealth roll would mean that he's spotted.
So, Kanno steals up to the hire-coach. His intent is to try to sneak up, open the coffer full of potions, and swipe one. He asks where it is, and I decided that it was about a 50/50 that she'd either be holding it in her lap or having it sit on the seat next to her. I rolled a secret d100, got a 4, and had him call high or low. Kanno called low, so to his great fortune, the box was sitting on the seat next to the woman, who was currently engaged in a heated conversation with Stitches over the poor fruit vendor's cart damages.
At this point, I also had the cart vendor realize that this wasn't going well, and have him start to meekly assert that "It's not such a big deal", and that "I don't think they were the ones who even hit me in the first place", to put a time limit on this exercise. On the other side of the wagon, Kanno rolled Stealth once again to try to steal a potion from the box, and Stitches, running brilliant interference, hit the woman with Cutting Words to reduce her Perception check. It ultimately proved unnecessary, as Kanno's Stealth check was good enough to beat the woman's Passive Perception, but I wanted to highlight the move anyways, as it was a great assist.
And so, Kanno slipped away with the bottle tucked into his pocket, giving Stitches a wink to indicate a job completed. Stitches, playing along with the vendor's second thoughts, stated that "Since the man himself has decided not to press charges, I'll drop the matter", and departed. And just for the sake of adding a little flair to the scene, I described to the two how, as they were leaving, they heard the sound of a member of the City Watch arriving to direct traffic around the broken cart while it was being removed from the road.
And so, the two got away with their dastardly scheme. The woman completely fell for Stitches' trickery, and since he played his role so well, she now believes that "Inspector Barney", purportedly of the City Watch, has tried to demand a bribe from her. She never saw Kanno, and nobody noticed him stealing the potion from her box, so all she knows is that the "inspector", and possibly the fruit vendor, coordinated a scam to rob her of her potions. Additionally, since we were playing on Roll20, and I accidentally did a couple of the woman's rolls in the open instead of as secret GM rolls,they now have the OOC knowledge that they managed to get one over on the infamous Black Viper.
It wasn't where I was expecting that short sidequest to go, but it was one of the funniest and most memorable roleplay experiences I've had in a long time, calling to mind the absurd stories of the old ad hoc roleplaying sessions we used to do using the Dragonstrike game rules. I think it's a good example of how your players can disrupt your game in a way that's fun for everyone at the table, turning a nothing task into a fun story. They knew what they were risking, it was entirely in character for both players to do it, and they profited from their daring. And really, while she might be annoyed and want to find out who did it, I feel like The Black Viper could at least appreciate a robbery smoothly committed, and draw inspiration from it. Besides, I can't wait to find out how these two discover that their stolen "Potion of Mind Reading" is actually a Potion of Poison *evil laugh*.
submitted by TaranAlvein to dndstories [link] [comments]
The stars of this particular tale are a pair of evil party members: The jester, Stitches, and the former Zhentarim thug, Kanno. Stitches is a College of Lore Bard with the Charlatan background, whose favorite con was impersonating others. Kanno is a Fighter, whom I had worked out with the player to be a former follower of Manshoon, who left after a betrayal by his former master. As a result, Kanno was quick to seize opportunities to make money, which he needed for his revenge.
The party has just experienced the beginning of the "Fireball" event, and conducted a fruitful investigation. Afterwards, they were questioned by Barnibus Blastwind and Saethe Cromley. Once the two had left, Stitches' player asked me whether their conversation with Barnibus had lasted for more than a minute. I answered in the affirmative, asked why, and then suddenly realized that he could now impersonate Barnibus. I didn't expect that to come into play so soon, though.
The party's first stop was to meet with Davil, to find out what he knew about the Zhentarim operatives that were killed at the scene of the blast. Since the men who died don't work for him, that lead was a dead-end. However, I took the opportunity to provide the party with the second Zhentarim sidequest, to deliver potions for Skeemo Weirdbottle. Since the party couldn't think of a next step for their investigation, in spite of all of the clues they had gathered, they decided to do the job to make some quick change.
It was here that Stitches began scheming. On the way to Skeemo's, he stopped at another apothecary, and was able to convince the man to tell him what a Potion of Mind Reading looks like. He also explained his plan to Kanno, operating under the assumption that it would be a large shipment, and that nobody would notice if a bottle or two were to "break" or "be confiscated by the Watch" when they made the delivery. Fortunately, they at least had the sense to realize that losing one bottle out of a delivery of four was not feasible. It was my mistake to think that this would be the end of the scheme.
Arriving at the Godcatcher with their cargo, they quickly spotted the intended recipient sitting in a hire-coach. After delivering the box, the woman inspected the goods, then quickly handed the party their reward and told the driver to get out of there. It was then that Stitches acted. Casting Message, he informed the driver, "Eyes are on you, take a roundabout route." While I had originally intended for the driver to take a circuitous route back anyways (I assumed that the woman was already taking precautions, given the nature of the sidequest), I had Stitches roll Persuasion. His result was good enough that I decided that the driver wouldn't tell his client about the missive, assuming that he was being reminded of his instructions by a compatriot of hers.
Meanwhile, Stitches hailed another hire-coach, and informed the party that he and Kanno would be "Following up on other leads", and that he hoped to "Earn a little bit of a bigger tip", or something to that effect. I didn't really want them to try to follow her, especially since what they were planning was obviously going to involve committing a crime of some kind, but I also wasn't going to just give them a hard "No", so I decided to make it difficult.
First, I rolled to see how many turns would pass before they could get a cab, and got a result of 3. Well, that's to be expected, it's a pretty well-travelled area, so cabs should be readily available there. I then had the driver balk at taking them without a set destination in mind, since fares are negotiated and paid before travel begins. Stitches, thinking fast, tells him to take them as far as 1 gold would go, and given the cost of a hire-coach, I had him reply that, "Sure, you've got me for an hour".
Since the module doesn't really contain rules for a vehicular chase, and I didn't want to waste time flipping through the DMG looking for something, I decided to modify the chase rules found on page 72. I had one of them roll a d20 for the outset, and Stitches rolled a natural 20, so they encountered no obstacles leaving the square. But they'd still have to actually find their quarry's vehicle, since it was currently going around the square a few times, and ducking up and down sidestreets. Oh, no problem, a 15 and a 22 on Perception quickly spotted the woman's cab, and a quick lie about their intent set their own driver to following her at a distance of about 100 feet.
I then began a few rounds of rolling d20s to determine how the chase would go. After both their cab and the one they were following rolled well enough to avoid mishap on two successive checks, I informed them that their quarry had finally stopped its erratic travel, and was now moving straight up The High Road, seemingly now on its way back, and called for one more round of checks. My hope was that they would follow her home, see that they were messing with a noble, and back off. Instead, I rolled a 2 for the NPC's coach, while they managed to avoid mishap once again. Since they had just been asking their cabbie about possibly finding a shortcut to head them off, I decided that they would see the hire-coach ahead of them stopping due to a fruit-cart in the middle of the road having a broken wheel. I informed them that the coach they were following was waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic so that it could go around.
Once again, they defied my expectations. Playing their previous lie to the hilt, they departed from their cab and approached the stopped vehicle, where the dice gods granted their blessing upon the absolute Indy Ploy they rolled out. First, the two ducked into an alleyway, where Stitches cast Disguise Self to make himself look like Barnibus Blastwind. Then, using his Performance to do a bit of voice mimicry, he approached the fruit cart vendor, slipped him a silver piece, and started making a big production about "Reckless drivers these days!", and the negligent driving that damaged the wheel on this poor fruit vendor's cart!
I called for Persuasion, and with a 19, the fruit cart vendor decided that he wasn't one to say no to free money, and started playing along, albeit very passively. A Performance result of 23 ensured that not only was Stitches able to do a spot-on impression of Barnibus' voice and mannerisms, but that he was starting to draw the crowd's attention as well, just as he had hoped. Stitches started demanding compensation from the hire-coach driver, who was incredulous that he was being blamed for this. The fact that Stitches was demanding two Platinum as compensation only made him more certain that this was some kind of shakedown, and he adamantly refused to pay for something that he had nothing to do with.
For the lady's part, I rolled absolutely abysmally. A natural 1 on her Insight check led her to also assume that this was some clumsy attempt at extortion, and she chimed in that even if her driver had damaged the cart, he would only have to pay damages to the owner, not the exorbitant fee that Stitches/Barnibus was demanding. She also demanded to know exactly who he was. Stitches obliged.
...And here, ignorance proved to be a strength as well. See, Stitches didn't actually know Barnibus' last name. Nor did he know that Barnibus was only a consultant, and not a member of the Watch. And so, he introduced himself as "Inspector Barney of the City Watch". And the woman, failing yet another check, didn't question the obvious lie. And besides, as a secret member of the city's criminal class, she's not exactly looking for a confrontation with the City Watch right now. And so, the two started talking in circles for a bit, both the lady's driver and the lady herself being a little confused by what exactly Stitches was looking for, since even his own demands were, by design, self-contradictory and bizarre. The only reason they didn't just leave was because the traffic on their side of the road was at a standstill due to the broken cart.
Meanwhile, while Stitches held their attention, Kanno emerged from the alley he was observing from and slipped around to the other side of the lady's hire-coach. After ascertaining from him exactly what he intended to do, I had him roll Stealth, but informed him that there was a fair-sized crowd gathered, and that while the hire coach would block people from seeing him on their side of the road, and the oncoming dray would block the view from the other sidewalk, he would still be visible to the people on board the dray, and that a bad Stealth roll would mean that he's spotted.
So, Kanno steals up to the hire-coach. His intent is to try to sneak up, open the coffer full of potions, and swipe one. He asks where it is, and I decided that it was about a 50/50 that she'd either be holding it in her lap or having it sit on the seat next to her. I rolled a secret d100, got a 4, and had him call high or low. Kanno called low, so to his great fortune, the box was sitting on the seat next to the woman, who was currently engaged in a heated conversation with Stitches over the poor fruit vendor's cart damages.
At this point, I also had the cart vendor realize that this wasn't going well, and have him start to meekly assert that "It's not such a big deal", and that "I don't think they were the ones who even hit me in the first place", to put a time limit on this exercise. On the other side of the wagon, Kanno rolled Stealth once again to try to steal a potion from the box, and Stitches, running brilliant interference, hit the woman with Cutting Words to reduce her Perception check. It ultimately proved unnecessary, as Kanno's Stealth check was good enough to beat the woman's Passive Perception, but I wanted to highlight the move anyways, as it was a great assist.
And so, Kanno slipped away with the bottle tucked into his pocket, giving Stitches a wink to indicate a job completed. Stitches, playing along with the vendor's second thoughts, stated that "Since the man himself has decided not to press charges, I'll drop the matter", and departed. And just for the sake of adding a little flair to the scene, I described to the two how, as they were leaving, they heard the sound of a member of the City Watch arriving to direct traffic around the broken cart while it was being removed from the road.
And so, the two got away with their dastardly scheme. The woman completely fell for Stitches' trickery, and since he played his role so well, she now believes that "Inspector Barney", purportedly of the City Watch, has tried to demand a bribe from her. She never saw Kanno, and nobody noticed him stealing the potion from her box, so all she knows is that the "inspector", and possibly the fruit vendor, coordinated a scam to rob her of her potions. Additionally, since we were playing on Roll20, and I accidentally did a couple of the woman's rolls in the open instead of as secret GM rolls,they now have the OOC knowledge that they managed to get one over on the infamous Black Viper.
It wasn't where I was expecting that short sidequest to go, but it was one of the funniest and most memorable roleplay experiences I've had in a long time, calling to mind the absurd stories of the old ad hoc roleplaying sessions we used to do using the Dragonstrike game rules. I think it's a good example of how your players can disrupt your game in a way that's fun for everyone at the table, turning a nothing task into a fun story. They knew what they were risking, it was entirely in character for both players to do it, and they profited from their daring. And really, while she might be annoyed and want to find out who did it, I feel like The Black Viper could at least appreciate a robbery smoothly committed, and draw inspiration from it. Besides, I can't wait to find out how these two discover that their stolen "Potion of Mind Reading" is actually a Potion of Poison *evil laugh*.
2024.06.09 09:31 KoreanBunz Japan Trip Report (Last week of May and first week of June)
So, finally, my SO and I back home after an exciting Japanese Vacation. It was on our bucket list for years and we are so glad we did it and it went smoothly.
We landed at Narita Airport at 7 AM and finished our immigration and customs by 7.45 AM. We bought our Passmo Passport from Keisei Information Centre in literally two mins without a queue and were in the three persons queue at the Limousine Bus stop for our airport transfer to Shinjuku. I highly suggest the Limousine Bus Service as it was the most convenient and comfortable ride from NRT Airport to Shinjuku. The staff speaks English and put your luggage in the storage compartment, without you to have to worry about it. You can buy the tickets of limousine bus on KLOOK or at the arrivals hall of NRT airport.
From Shinjuku stop where the limousine bus dropped us and handed our luggage to us, we took a taxi to our hotel. It costed us 1200 yen and 10 mins to our hotel in Nishi Shinjuku. We had typed the hotel name and address in Japanese and printed it out. That piece of paper proved very useful after a 12 hour flight and 2 hour bus ride. We just handed out the printed paper to our taxi driver and he dropped us off at our hotel without a single word exchanged between us except thank you (arigato gozaimasu). It took away the anxiety of explaining our hotel address to taxi drivers in English and broken Japanese.
Our hotel was APA Hotel & Resort NishiShinjuku Gochome Eki Tower. We had booked an early check in for additional payment of 1000 yen per hour. We reached our double room on higher floor with city view and were shocked by the size of it. NO AMOUNT of research and reading up could mentally prepare us for the size of it. It was TINYYYYYYYY. But, very well appointed with night suits, kimono robes, room slippers, onsen slippers, huge TV, small bath tub, king size bed, working station with a chair, etc. We soon found our groove in the tiny room and found it to be very comfortable once the luggage was under the bed. I would highly recommend this hotel as it has an onsite onsen, swimming pool (payable), speedy WiFi, English speaking staff, vending machines, laundromat, luggage storage and transfer facility. But, its biggest plus point is that it’s 100 mts away from the NishiShinjuku Gochome Station with an elevator exit. That was the most convenient for us.
After relaxing in the tiny room for about 3 hours, we left the hotel at 2 PM for Meiji Jingu Shrine. We used the subway for it and it was very convenient. We thoroughly enjoyed the peaceful zen walk into the forest like atmosphere to reach the shrine. It was completely empty barring three more people about 1 km ahead of us. When we reached the Meiji Jingu Shrine we were greeted by a crowd. We spent maximum of 30 mins in the shrine and then walked to Takeshita Street. It was a 15 min relaxed walk and we enjoyed it. We LOVED the Takeshita Street and the hustle bustle there, spent around two hours, shopping for street wear fits and eating the crepes and tanghulu sweet treats. From there we walked the Cat Street, which was almost deserted and we didn’t even realise that we had already finished walking the iconic Cat Street until we asked a local. From Cat Street we walked to Shibuya, it was a 25 minutes walk and I had started to feel the tiredness by now. We found a Tully’s Cafe about 5 mins away from Shibuya crossing and chilled there for one hour having coffee and smoothies.
We reached the Shibuya Crossing by 6.30 PM and the excitement to see thousands of people crossing the iconic junction had pumped the energy back into me and I was ready for more exploring. We took a look at the Hachiku Statue and made our way up to Shibuya Sky for our entry slot of 7 PM. It was the most magical moment when we took the elevator up to the open observatory deck. The sky was turning red and rust and the Tokyo skyline lights were just firing up. We saw the sunset for about 15 minutes before the sky turned dark and then we enjoyed the night light views of Tokyo. It was absolutely STUNNING. Highly recommend booking the 6.45-7 PM slot for Shibuya Sky. We booked it via KLOOK about one month in advance.
We got down from Shibuya Sky by 8.30 PM and although we had a reservation at a vegan restaurant at Shinjuku for 9 PM, I personally couldn’t last any longer. I was extremely tired by that time so we took a subway back to our hotel. We rested in the hotel and had Seven Eleven ice cream and onigiri for dinner in our room and rested till about 11 PM.
At around 11 PM my FOMO kicked in and my partner and I took a cab to Omoide Yakucho drinking lane. It took us 8 mins by cab and 1000 yen. We had a local beer at the Albatross bar there and we loved the atmosphere and experience. We explored some more places in that lane but Albatross Bar was the best vibe. We then walked to Hotel Gracery to see the Godzilla head and Shinjuku neon billboards and lights. We found the area super greasy but it had a vibe of its own. We walked a bit further and found a nice beer brewery and bar and had a few beers there and it was amazing. We left that place by 12.30 AM and took a taxi back to the hotel. It costed us 900 yen. All in all it was the MOST FUN and ICONIC first day of a Tokyo trip. We had clocked 22,000 steps on Day 1.
Day 2:
We woke up by 8 AM and left the hotel by 10 AM. We first reached the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and had breakfast at the traditional Japanese tea house at the national garden. We relaxed in the garden and explored till about 12.30 pm and we left for TeamLabs Planet. We reached there and booked ourself the lunch experience at Uzu Restaurant at Tokyolabs Planet. It was hands down the ABSOLUTE BEST lunch experience with the yummiest bowl of Vegan Ramen. We enjoyed the immersive experience and were ready for experiencing the main exhibit by 3.30 PM. We spent two hours in the exhibit and it was absolutely the highlight of our trip. We both lovedddddd TeamLabs Planet experience and can’t wait to be back.
At around 6 pm we left for Asakusa area from Teamlabs and reached the Senso Ji temple at around 6.45 pm. We explored the shopping streets around the temple and watched the sun go down behind the temple. It was just so so so so beautiful. We had dinner at a roadside restaurant there and they were plenty. My SO loved the area so much that he made me promise that we will stay in this area instead of Shibuya or Shinjuku on our next visit to Tokyo. The man has taste.
We were back to our hotel by 10 PM and had drinks at our hotel bar and slept off by 12 AM.
We had successfully used the subway system without getting lost but we had also successfully AVOIDED starting or ending our subway journeys from the terrifying Shinjuku Station for first two days and we highly recommend everyone to do the same.
Because on Day 3 we got lost at Shinjuku station and it was NOT FUN. On day 3 we checked out of our hotel by 10 am and took the subway to Don Qui store Shinjuku (our hotel stored our luggage for us post check out). We spent 2.5 hours in Donki and other Shinjuku shopping places and while returning with our shopping bags we got lost in Shinjuku station for about an hour and I personally felt super disoriented but my SO took over the navigation and somehow we reached our hotel by 2 pm.
We then took our bags and made our way to Tokyo International Cruise Terminal via subway and metro. A sweet local Japanese girl guided us to the metro stop which was two floors above from where we were and she very kindly travelled with us on the escalators two whole floors up. I had never experienced such kindness from a stranger and was truly grateful and overwhelmed by her kindness.
We then embarked on our cruise ship at 3.30 PM and I will write the cruise report in the next post.
But, I must say that these 2-2.5 days in Tokyo were genuinely I had dreamed of and more. Although it was tiring t walk 20k steps a day but it was more than worth it. I can’t wait to be back.
submitted by KoreanBunz to JapanTravel [link] [comments]
We landed at Narita Airport at 7 AM and finished our immigration and customs by 7.45 AM. We bought our Passmo Passport from Keisei Information Centre in literally two mins without a queue and were in the three persons queue at the Limousine Bus stop for our airport transfer to Shinjuku. I highly suggest the Limousine Bus Service as it was the most convenient and comfortable ride from NRT Airport to Shinjuku. The staff speaks English and put your luggage in the storage compartment, without you to have to worry about it. You can buy the tickets of limousine bus on KLOOK or at the arrivals hall of NRT airport.
From Shinjuku stop where the limousine bus dropped us and handed our luggage to us, we took a taxi to our hotel. It costed us 1200 yen and 10 mins to our hotel in Nishi Shinjuku. We had typed the hotel name and address in Japanese and printed it out. That piece of paper proved very useful after a 12 hour flight and 2 hour bus ride. We just handed out the printed paper to our taxi driver and he dropped us off at our hotel without a single word exchanged between us except thank you (arigato gozaimasu). It took away the anxiety of explaining our hotel address to taxi drivers in English and broken Japanese.
Our hotel was APA Hotel & Resort NishiShinjuku Gochome Eki Tower. We had booked an early check in for additional payment of 1000 yen per hour. We reached our double room on higher floor with city view and were shocked by the size of it. NO AMOUNT of research and reading up could mentally prepare us for the size of it. It was TINYYYYYYYY. But, very well appointed with night suits, kimono robes, room slippers, onsen slippers, huge TV, small bath tub, king size bed, working station with a chair, etc. We soon found our groove in the tiny room and found it to be very comfortable once the luggage was under the bed. I would highly recommend this hotel as it has an onsite onsen, swimming pool (payable), speedy WiFi, English speaking staff, vending machines, laundromat, luggage storage and transfer facility. But, its biggest plus point is that it’s 100 mts away from the NishiShinjuku Gochome Station with an elevator exit. That was the most convenient for us.
After relaxing in the tiny room for about 3 hours, we left the hotel at 2 PM for Meiji Jingu Shrine. We used the subway for it and it was very convenient. We thoroughly enjoyed the peaceful zen walk into the forest like atmosphere to reach the shrine. It was completely empty barring three more people about 1 km ahead of us. When we reached the Meiji Jingu Shrine we were greeted by a crowd. We spent maximum of 30 mins in the shrine and then walked to Takeshita Street. It was a 15 min relaxed walk and we enjoyed it. We LOVED the Takeshita Street and the hustle bustle there, spent around two hours, shopping for street wear fits and eating the crepes and tanghulu sweet treats. From there we walked the Cat Street, which was almost deserted and we didn’t even realise that we had already finished walking the iconic Cat Street until we asked a local. From Cat Street we walked to Shibuya, it was a 25 minutes walk and I had started to feel the tiredness by now. We found a Tully’s Cafe about 5 mins away from Shibuya crossing and chilled there for one hour having coffee and smoothies.
We reached the Shibuya Crossing by 6.30 PM and the excitement to see thousands of people crossing the iconic junction had pumped the energy back into me and I was ready for more exploring. We took a look at the Hachiku Statue and made our way up to Shibuya Sky for our entry slot of 7 PM. It was the most magical moment when we took the elevator up to the open observatory deck. The sky was turning red and rust and the Tokyo skyline lights were just firing up. We saw the sunset for about 15 minutes before the sky turned dark and then we enjoyed the night light views of Tokyo. It was absolutely STUNNING. Highly recommend booking the 6.45-7 PM slot for Shibuya Sky. We booked it via KLOOK about one month in advance.
We got down from Shibuya Sky by 8.30 PM and although we had a reservation at a vegan restaurant at Shinjuku for 9 PM, I personally couldn’t last any longer. I was extremely tired by that time so we took a subway back to our hotel. We rested in the hotel and had Seven Eleven ice cream and onigiri for dinner in our room and rested till about 11 PM.
At around 11 PM my FOMO kicked in and my partner and I took a cab to Omoide Yakucho drinking lane. It took us 8 mins by cab and 1000 yen. We had a local beer at the Albatross bar there and we loved the atmosphere and experience. We explored some more places in that lane but Albatross Bar was the best vibe. We then walked to Hotel Gracery to see the Godzilla head and Shinjuku neon billboards and lights. We found the area super greasy but it had a vibe of its own. We walked a bit further and found a nice beer brewery and bar and had a few beers there and it was amazing. We left that place by 12.30 AM and took a taxi back to the hotel. It costed us 900 yen. All in all it was the MOST FUN and ICONIC first day of a Tokyo trip. We had clocked 22,000 steps on Day 1.
Day 2:
We woke up by 8 AM and left the hotel by 10 AM. We first reached the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and had breakfast at the traditional Japanese tea house at the national garden. We relaxed in the garden and explored till about 12.30 pm and we left for TeamLabs Planet. We reached there and booked ourself the lunch experience at Uzu Restaurant at Tokyolabs Planet. It was hands down the ABSOLUTE BEST lunch experience with the yummiest bowl of Vegan Ramen. We enjoyed the immersive experience and were ready for experiencing the main exhibit by 3.30 PM. We spent two hours in the exhibit and it was absolutely the highlight of our trip. We both lovedddddd TeamLabs Planet experience and can’t wait to be back.
At around 6 pm we left for Asakusa area from Teamlabs and reached the Senso Ji temple at around 6.45 pm. We explored the shopping streets around the temple and watched the sun go down behind the temple. It was just so so so so beautiful. We had dinner at a roadside restaurant there and they were plenty. My SO loved the area so much that he made me promise that we will stay in this area instead of Shibuya or Shinjuku on our next visit to Tokyo. The man has taste.
We were back to our hotel by 10 PM and had drinks at our hotel bar and slept off by 12 AM.
We had successfully used the subway system without getting lost but we had also successfully AVOIDED starting or ending our subway journeys from the terrifying Shinjuku Station for first two days and we highly recommend everyone to do the same.
Because on Day 3 we got lost at Shinjuku station and it was NOT FUN. On day 3 we checked out of our hotel by 10 am and took the subway to Don Qui store Shinjuku (our hotel stored our luggage for us post check out). We spent 2.5 hours in Donki and other Shinjuku shopping places and while returning with our shopping bags we got lost in Shinjuku station for about an hour and I personally felt super disoriented but my SO took over the navigation and somehow we reached our hotel by 2 pm.
We then took our bags and made our way to Tokyo International Cruise Terminal via subway and metro. A sweet local Japanese girl guided us to the metro stop which was two floors above from where we were and she very kindly travelled with us on the escalators two whole floors up. I had never experienced such kindness from a stranger and was truly grateful and overwhelmed by her kindness.
We then embarked on our cruise ship at 3.30 PM and I will write the cruise report in the next post.
But, I must say that these 2-2.5 days in Tokyo were genuinely I had dreamed of and more. Although it was tiring t walk 20k steps a day but it was more than worth it. I can’t wait to be back.
2024.06.09 09:15 TheWorstThingy [UR] Ain’t No Fun When The Rabbit Got The Gun
Content Warning: Contains themes of drug trafficking, violence and profanity
Ain’t No Fun When The Rabbit Got The Gun
“Ay yo, Mo-Mo, maybe you should be careful what you wish for. Things is basically goin’ all right now but they can get worse for us real quick I think. We can prolly smooth this shit out. We should try and talk wit them, for starters at least. Shit.”
He just looked at me with something dark and dangerous swimming through the shallows behind his gray-green eyes.
Sure, it would have been easy to just go along with the rest’a them but my pops raised me to play chess, not checkers, from a young age and I learned a few things about thinking two or three steps ahead. I aint no dumb muthafucker. "Taking the long view", that’s what they call it. I never went to college and I don’t know my IQ score (I never even took the SAT) but I like to think I aint just some dumb nigga from down the block. I don’t know where you from but out here, where I stay, you best be at least a little bit smarter than these streets.
So when Big Mo said it was time to take out Nando and Nestor - N&N’s what everyone call them - and the rest of the crew all agreed, I was obligated to disagree. There was only 6 of us but I was still "The 10th Man", as they say, and I knew about the 10th Man Rule. (My pops taught me about that shit too.) I was Mo’s top lieutenant - we went to grade school together back at P.S. 157 in the Grove Hill section of the South Bronx - and we been together for a minute but things had gotten a little shaky between us just lately so I really didn’t want to speak out, but I had to.
“Ay yo, man. If you aksin’ me? I say we let em’ have that shit for now. We got like four more empty blocks going south that we can just stretch out into without bumpin’ up against no one and if we keep on putting out that good shit in the blue Comotosa bags these junkie muthafuckers are still gonna come to us, even if it’s a few extra blocks. Ay yo, I think you already know this, Papi. Let’s try to be smart about this shit for just a minute. Bullets is cheap but pay lawyers cost money, nigga. Big money for real.”
N&N sold coke and dope in our neighborhood of East Tremont way back before we did. Nestor’s dad was slinging out here before I was even born and his boy inherited the family business when pops got sent up to The Hill on an A-1 charge like, shit, at least 15 years back. I think that was his third. I was just a kid then but he still up there and I heard he killed a nigga and he aint comin’ back. Things was all good though until recently, when they started to push down onto the corners we been holdin’ down for years, them blocks between the Concourse and Jermone Ave just south of Tremont. Not even a courtesy convo. Those blocks always been ours but lately we’ve had beef, and now we got bodies.
When Berto got shot in the leg about a month back it set things off to start with but everyone was down with Tiny - that funny fat-ass muthafucker - and they was all heated up real good when he got smoked tryin’ to run off that corner in his baggy-ass pants. Tiny couldn’t run for shit and took three in the back. We just got home from the service with his family and all, everyone cryin’ and shit. Niggas was pissed off for real, out for blood. Six dudes, nine handguns and two cut-downs on the table, everyone ready to go out and buck.
“I done been smart for a long time, Primo. I think you know, else I wouldn’t be here now, right? But maybe this is a time for muscle tho’, not brains. What’choo think, man?” Mo raised his chin towards me. It was half a question and half a challenge. They all looked at me. I knew I was out on a real thin branch to begin with so I just backed the fuck off.
“Ay, obviously it aint my call. I’m just….tryin’ to give you sumthin’ else to think on, Mo-Mo, that’s all. Options, man. I’m wit you however it go, you already know this. Shit. Where I come from? Who my peoples?” I shrugged and lit a cigarette and then just looked down at the floor.
I knew he wasn’t gonna listen.
“All right, let’s mount up muthafuckers. We on the hunt and we aint comin’ back until we drop at least three of them bitches. We gonna start at that busy corner they got on 177th and roll on from there. I know where Nestor’s grandma live and that’s where he stay most of the time. Either there or his girl’s crib down Fordham. I know where she stay too. We gonna spill some blood. Straight up. Yo Willy-Boy, go pull the truck around and we’ll see you out front in like a minute.” He threw the keys to his Escalade to the youngest kid in the room. I had a real bad feeling about the whole thing. It was too quick. They would be waiting, ready.
We all piled into the truck and I took the passenger seat, snicked a round into the chamber of my pistol and clicked off the safety. Mo had one of the cut-down shotguns in his lap - a Benelli 12 gauge loaded with pumpkin balls - as he drove. He didn’t look at me. When we got down to 177th Street and circled the corner I was relieved to see there was almost no one out there. I just assumed the 5-0 came past and business would be back up and running in like ten or fifteen minutes. We started to circle the block.
“Yo, Mo-Mo, let me out up at the corner here. I need to grab a deck of smokes and something to drink. Y’all niggas want anything?” They were all tensed-up and no one wanted shit so I stepped out on the corner and told them I’d be right back, then I walked into the bodega.
I took my time. I stood in front of the cold case for a while and looked at my phone, even though I already knew what I wanted. Then I took a can of root beer up front and made some small talk with the counter man for a while, an old Dominican dude who had been running that place since I was just a kid. We was both Yankee fans. I bought a lottery ticket and then I bought a pack of Newports, opened it and lit one, and by the time I walked back out the store the Escalade was gone, as I knew it would be. This was a real narrow one-way street and there’s no way that Big Mo could just stay double-parked out there without blocking traffic for a minute or two. Like I said, my pops taught me to think a few moves ahead. Chess, not checkers.
I stood out there in front of the bodega for a minute, smoking my cigarette, and then I heard the pop…pop…pop of gunfire and the sound of a car crash, which is basically what I expected. Big Mo was always just a little too hot. A little too quick to get involved whenever shit was jumpin’ off.
I waited to see if the Escalade would come racing up the block towards me but when it didn’t I started to jog in that direction. I heard the police sirens right when I got close enough to see Mo’s Caddilac slammed up against a few parked cars with all the windows shot out and he was slumped over the wheel. The corner was empty by then. I turned around immediately and began walking back to my crib with my head down.
I laid low for a while, “going to ground” as they say, but I knew N&N’s hangouts better than Mo-Mo did. Shit, I knew the pizza place just off Fordham Ave where all them niggas like to eat. I just chilled at home for a minute and watched some movies on Netflix and waited til’ the time was right, about two weeks later.
“What up muthafucka, you aint get a slice for me? God damn, nigga! Who pay yo bills? You know I’m hungry like a Goddamn wolf, always. What’s up? I really gotta aks?” Nando hopped out of his Lexus with his phone in one hand and looked at his man Nestor with both palms raised in a gesture of insult and offense.
That’s when I came out of the alley behind the pizzeria with my hoodie tucked over my head and put down Nestor with three shots to his chest from my Springfield .45 from less than fifteen feet away. It’s a big gun and I knocked that muthafucker straight out his shoes, sent his pizza sailing into the gutter and the rest of them young‘uns just ran off towards the Concourse. Everyone but Nando. He was just too close, which is how I planned it, and he knew that runnin’ was pointless.
He tried to get all hard with me for a minute and I saw his eyebrows scrunchin’ up but as soon as he started talkin’ I just pistol-whipped that muthafucker in the mouth and knocked out a few of his teeth. He fell to the sidewalk and then pulled himself up against the wall.
“Sup’ Nando? Aint no fun when the rabbit got the gun, right?,” I said in a quiet, scratchy voice and then smiled and chuckled at him for a second or two while pointing the barrel of my pistol directly into the center of his face as he wiped away some of the blood running down his chin.
“Shit, I don’t think your boy Nestor’s gettin’ up over there. What’choo think, man? Looks like you fresh out of muscle.” I looked over at Nestor’s dead body lying half on the sidewalk and half in the street, his white NY Knicks jersey turned mostly red at that point and I smiled some more.
“Cuz yo, with y’all gone I think I’m taking over the rest of Tremont Ave, little man. We prolly could’a worked this shit out if you just came past to talk. But nah. Not you. You too big for talk, right? Too late for talk now though I think.”
I didn’t waste no time. I just looked around to make sure no one was witnessin’ up close and then I put two in his dome. I snatched up his pocket money, his rope chain, his rings and his Rolex (I mean, you gotta be stupid to just leave all that shit behind) but I left his Glock .40 on him and then I jogged off towards Fordham Ave with my head down and my hoodie up.
Yeah, Daddy. Fuck Nando. He got his. I paid some of the little shorties from around the way to go and shoot out them street lights the night before so I wasn’t trippin’ about no security cameras. It was dark and I ain't never heard nuthin’ about it afterwards. Nuthin’. I don’t think the police round here care about this shit really. Just one street nigga killin’ another. They prolly like it that way.
I wasn't worried. I had business to tend to anyways. I had new territory to run and I knew I might need to handle up for a minute; make sure no one got no problems with the new arrangements. It was all good though. I had peoples standing with me. I know how to muscle up, for real. Shit. People always need to get paid. It’s just a matter of money, like everything else. We can hold this down. Might be a few bodies but that’s just what they call “the cost of doing business.” Ain’t no thing.
And things was working out just fine, for a while. Only two bodies got dropped, neither of them on my team, when Spring turned to Summer and then it got real hot, real quick. Not the police, but the weather. It’s like that out here. All concrete, no trees.
I was out on East Tremont two blocks off the Concourse one day in late June, just tryin’ to stay cool in the shade and collecting some dollars and paying off some of my peoples when I seen this little kid coming down the block with a grape soda in one hand, minding his own business. I only noticed the little nigga because he looked at me for a second when he got closer. I didn’t really think shit about it. I run all these corners round here and the shorties all know whassup, so kids look at me all the time. Ain’t nothing unusual. They need work but I ain’t got enough to go round for every little nigga in the South Bronx. Shit.
I was just telling Red Light - we call him that cuz he ran a red light and hit an NYPD roller from the 48th a few years back and got his ass beat for real - that my boy Shiny would come past with a re-up package for him in about an hour or two, when all’a sudden this shorty drops his grape soda on the sidewalk and pulls a little deuce-deuce auto from his pants and before I know whassup I catch three in the gut and one skimmed the side of my neck. Little shorty motherfucker tried to put one in my head too but he was already running off at that point and he only took off the top of my left ear.
It didn’t matter. I coughed up some blood and I knew I wasn’t never gonna make it to the ER up at Misericordia. That’s the only Level-1 trauma unit round here and I seen enough niggas get dropped in these streets to know it’s your only chance when you catch a few. Shit. They take you to one of these other B-list hospitals round here they might as well just leave you where they found you.
I only ever done dope a few times back when I was just a kid but Red Light was leaning over me and aksin’ what to do, so I told him to just give me a couple of them blue bags. I didn’t have no works to shoot up with (I ain’t no dope fiend) and no time neither so I just dumped that shit out on a c-note and snorted it up. Then I told Red Light to give me two more. Shit, if I was going out slow I might as well try to kill the pain, right? I couldn’t get those next two bags down though. My throat was filling up with blood by then and I was choking on it.
I remember how everything just started to fade out around then. I seen Red Light take the bloody c-note from my hand along with the rest of the cash I spilled out onto the sidewalk. He started to hustle off down the block as the sirens got closer but then he ran back and grabbed my Patek Philippe wristwatch and my gold chain, that muthafucker. I was too weak to stop him or even to reach back for my Springfield.
I guess I forgot that Nando had a kid, or maybe I just didn’t think about it at all. I don’t know. I had other shit to worry about and I thought he was just a little nigga, and he was, but still big enough to pull a trigger though. It don’t take much.
When the EMTs came rushing up to me on the sidewalk they was aksin’ all sorts of questions but I remember the pretty white lady say, “What is your name?”
I spit out the blood in my mouth and my head was starting to feel real heavy. I just told her in a half-whisper, “Ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun…”
Then everything just went black.
THE END
submitted by TheWorstThingy to shortstories [link] [comments]
Ain’t No Fun When The Rabbit Got The Gun
“Ay yo, Mo-Mo, maybe you should be careful what you wish for. Things is basically goin’ all right now but they can get worse for us real quick I think. We can prolly smooth this shit out. We should try and talk wit them, for starters at least. Shit.”
He just looked at me with something dark and dangerous swimming through the shallows behind his gray-green eyes.
Sure, it would have been easy to just go along with the rest’a them but my pops raised me to play chess, not checkers, from a young age and I learned a few things about thinking two or three steps ahead. I aint no dumb muthafucker. "Taking the long view", that’s what they call it. I never went to college and I don’t know my IQ score (I never even took the SAT) but I like to think I aint just some dumb nigga from down the block. I don’t know where you from but out here, where I stay, you best be at least a little bit smarter than these streets.
So when Big Mo said it was time to take out Nando and Nestor - N&N’s what everyone call them - and the rest of the crew all agreed, I was obligated to disagree. There was only 6 of us but I was still "The 10th Man", as they say, and I knew about the 10th Man Rule. (My pops taught me about that shit too.) I was Mo’s top lieutenant - we went to grade school together back at P.S. 157 in the Grove Hill section of the South Bronx - and we been together for a minute but things had gotten a little shaky between us just lately so I really didn’t want to speak out, but I had to.
“Ay yo, man. If you aksin’ me? I say we let em’ have that shit for now. We got like four more empty blocks going south that we can just stretch out into without bumpin’ up against no one and if we keep on putting out that good shit in the blue Comotosa bags these junkie muthafuckers are still gonna come to us, even if it’s a few extra blocks. Ay yo, I think you already know this, Papi. Let’s try to be smart about this shit for just a minute. Bullets is cheap but pay lawyers cost money, nigga. Big money for real.”
N&N sold coke and dope in our neighborhood of East Tremont way back before we did. Nestor’s dad was slinging out here before I was even born and his boy inherited the family business when pops got sent up to The Hill on an A-1 charge like, shit, at least 15 years back. I think that was his third. I was just a kid then but he still up there and I heard he killed a nigga and he aint comin’ back. Things was all good though until recently, when they started to push down onto the corners we been holdin’ down for years, them blocks between the Concourse and Jermone Ave just south of Tremont. Not even a courtesy convo. Those blocks always been ours but lately we’ve had beef, and now we got bodies.
When Berto got shot in the leg about a month back it set things off to start with but everyone was down with Tiny - that funny fat-ass muthafucker - and they was all heated up real good when he got smoked tryin’ to run off that corner in his baggy-ass pants. Tiny couldn’t run for shit and took three in the back. We just got home from the service with his family and all, everyone cryin’ and shit. Niggas was pissed off for real, out for blood. Six dudes, nine handguns and two cut-downs on the table, everyone ready to go out and buck.
“I done been smart for a long time, Primo. I think you know, else I wouldn’t be here now, right? But maybe this is a time for muscle tho’, not brains. What’choo think, man?” Mo raised his chin towards me. It was half a question and half a challenge. They all looked at me. I knew I was out on a real thin branch to begin with so I just backed the fuck off.
“Ay, obviously it aint my call. I’m just….tryin’ to give you sumthin’ else to think on, Mo-Mo, that’s all. Options, man. I’m wit you however it go, you already know this. Shit. Where I come from? Who my peoples?” I shrugged and lit a cigarette and then just looked down at the floor.
I knew he wasn’t gonna listen.
“All right, let’s mount up muthafuckers. We on the hunt and we aint comin’ back until we drop at least three of them bitches. We gonna start at that busy corner they got on 177th and roll on from there. I know where Nestor’s grandma live and that’s where he stay most of the time. Either there or his girl’s crib down Fordham. I know where she stay too. We gonna spill some blood. Straight up. Yo Willy-Boy, go pull the truck around and we’ll see you out front in like a minute.” He threw the keys to his Escalade to the youngest kid in the room. I had a real bad feeling about the whole thing. It was too quick. They would be waiting, ready.
We all piled into the truck and I took the passenger seat, snicked a round into the chamber of my pistol and clicked off the safety. Mo had one of the cut-down shotguns in his lap - a Benelli 12 gauge loaded with pumpkin balls - as he drove. He didn’t look at me. When we got down to 177th Street and circled the corner I was relieved to see there was almost no one out there. I just assumed the 5-0 came past and business would be back up and running in like ten or fifteen minutes. We started to circle the block.
“Yo, Mo-Mo, let me out up at the corner here. I need to grab a deck of smokes and something to drink. Y’all niggas want anything?” They were all tensed-up and no one wanted shit so I stepped out on the corner and told them I’d be right back, then I walked into the bodega.
I took my time. I stood in front of the cold case for a while and looked at my phone, even though I already knew what I wanted. Then I took a can of root beer up front and made some small talk with the counter man for a while, an old Dominican dude who had been running that place since I was just a kid. We was both Yankee fans. I bought a lottery ticket and then I bought a pack of Newports, opened it and lit one, and by the time I walked back out the store the Escalade was gone, as I knew it would be. This was a real narrow one-way street and there’s no way that Big Mo could just stay double-parked out there without blocking traffic for a minute or two. Like I said, my pops taught me to think a few moves ahead. Chess, not checkers.
I stood out there in front of the bodega for a minute, smoking my cigarette, and then I heard the pop…pop…pop of gunfire and the sound of a car crash, which is basically what I expected. Big Mo was always just a little too hot. A little too quick to get involved whenever shit was jumpin’ off.
I waited to see if the Escalade would come racing up the block towards me but when it didn’t I started to jog in that direction. I heard the police sirens right when I got close enough to see Mo’s Caddilac slammed up against a few parked cars with all the windows shot out and he was slumped over the wheel. The corner was empty by then. I turned around immediately and began walking back to my crib with my head down.
I laid low for a while, “going to ground” as they say, but I knew N&N’s hangouts better than Mo-Mo did. Shit, I knew the pizza place just off Fordham Ave where all them niggas like to eat. I just chilled at home for a minute and watched some movies on Netflix and waited til’ the time was right, about two weeks later.
“What up muthafucka, you aint get a slice for me? God damn, nigga! Who pay yo bills? You know I’m hungry like a Goddamn wolf, always. What’s up? I really gotta aks?” Nando hopped out of his Lexus with his phone in one hand and looked at his man Nestor with both palms raised in a gesture of insult and offense.
That’s when I came out of the alley behind the pizzeria with my hoodie tucked over my head and put down Nestor with three shots to his chest from my Springfield .45 from less than fifteen feet away. It’s a big gun and I knocked that muthafucker straight out his shoes, sent his pizza sailing into the gutter and the rest of them young‘uns just ran off towards the Concourse. Everyone but Nando. He was just too close, which is how I planned it, and he knew that runnin’ was pointless.
He tried to get all hard with me for a minute and I saw his eyebrows scrunchin’ up but as soon as he started talkin’ I just pistol-whipped that muthafucker in the mouth and knocked out a few of his teeth. He fell to the sidewalk and then pulled himself up against the wall.
“Sup’ Nando? Aint no fun when the rabbit got the gun, right?,” I said in a quiet, scratchy voice and then smiled and chuckled at him for a second or two while pointing the barrel of my pistol directly into the center of his face as he wiped away some of the blood running down his chin.
“Shit, I don’t think your boy Nestor’s gettin’ up over there. What’choo think, man? Looks like you fresh out of muscle.” I looked over at Nestor’s dead body lying half on the sidewalk and half in the street, his white NY Knicks jersey turned mostly red at that point and I smiled some more.
“Cuz yo, with y’all gone I think I’m taking over the rest of Tremont Ave, little man. We prolly could’a worked this shit out if you just came past to talk. But nah. Not you. You too big for talk, right? Too late for talk now though I think.”
I didn’t waste no time. I just looked around to make sure no one was witnessin’ up close and then I put two in his dome. I snatched up his pocket money, his rope chain, his rings and his Rolex (I mean, you gotta be stupid to just leave all that shit behind) but I left his Glock .40 on him and then I jogged off towards Fordham Ave with my head down and my hoodie up.
Yeah, Daddy. Fuck Nando. He got his. I paid some of the little shorties from around the way to go and shoot out them street lights the night before so I wasn’t trippin’ about no security cameras. It was dark and I ain't never heard nuthin’ about it afterwards. Nuthin’. I don’t think the police round here care about this shit really. Just one street nigga killin’ another. They prolly like it that way.
I wasn't worried. I had business to tend to anyways. I had new territory to run and I knew I might need to handle up for a minute; make sure no one got no problems with the new arrangements. It was all good though. I had peoples standing with me. I know how to muscle up, for real. Shit. People always need to get paid. It’s just a matter of money, like everything else. We can hold this down. Might be a few bodies but that’s just what they call “the cost of doing business.” Ain’t no thing.
And things was working out just fine, for a while. Only two bodies got dropped, neither of them on my team, when Spring turned to Summer and then it got real hot, real quick. Not the police, but the weather. It’s like that out here. All concrete, no trees.
I was out on East Tremont two blocks off the Concourse one day in late June, just tryin’ to stay cool in the shade and collecting some dollars and paying off some of my peoples when I seen this little kid coming down the block with a grape soda in one hand, minding his own business. I only noticed the little nigga because he looked at me for a second when he got closer. I didn’t really think shit about it. I run all these corners round here and the shorties all know whassup, so kids look at me all the time. Ain’t nothing unusual. They need work but I ain’t got enough to go round for every little nigga in the South Bronx. Shit.
I was just telling Red Light - we call him that cuz he ran a red light and hit an NYPD roller from the 48th a few years back and got his ass beat for real - that my boy Shiny would come past with a re-up package for him in about an hour or two, when all’a sudden this shorty drops his grape soda on the sidewalk and pulls a little deuce-deuce auto from his pants and before I know whassup I catch three in the gut and one skimmed the side of my neck. Little shorty motherfucker tried to put one in my head too but he was already running off at that point and he only took off the top of my left ear.
It didn’t matter. I coughed up some blood and I knew I wasn’t never gonna make it to the ER up at Misericordia. That’s the only Level-1 trauma unit round here and I seen enough niggas get dropped in these streets to know it’s your only chance when you catch a few. Shit. They take you to one of these other B-list hospitals round here they might as well just leave you where they found you.
I only ever done dope a few times back when I was just a kid but Red Light was leaning over me and aksin’ what to do, so I told him to just give me a couple of them blue bags. I didn’t have no works to shoot up with (I ain’t no dope fiend) and no time neither so I just dumped that shit out on a c-note and snorted it up. Then I told Red Light to give me two more. Shit, if I was going out slow I might as well try to kill the pain, right? I couldn’t get those next two bags down though. My throat was filling up with blood by then and I was choking on it.
I remember how everything just started to fade out around then. I seen Red Light take the bloody c-note from my hand along with the rest of the cash I spilled out onto the sidewalk. He started to hustle off down the block as the sirens got closer but then he ran back and grabbed my Patek Philippe wristwatch and my gold chain, that muthafucker. I was too weak to stop him or even to reach back for my Springfield.
I guess I forgot that Nando had a kid, or maybe I just didn’t think about it at all. I don’t know. I had other shit to worry about and I thought he was just a little nigga, and he was, but still big enough to pull a trigger though. It don’t take much.
When the EMTs came rushing up to me on the sidewalk they was aksin’ all sorts of questions but I remember the pretty white lady say, “What is your name?”
I spit out the blood in my mouth and my head was starting to feel real heavy. I just told her in a half-whisper, “Ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun…”
Then everything just went black.
THE END
2024.06.09 08:59 TheWorstThingy [MS] Prosopagnosia v. Cotard's Syndrome
Content Warning: This story contains themes of mental health issues, suicide and physical violence.
Prosopagnosia v. Cotard's Syndrome
My new doctor - a bright and friendly guy named Sarbjit - took the time to explain his diagnosis to me. He told me my condition was mental, not physical, but it was hard to pay attention to everything he said because my left arm was numb and rotting from the inside out. I smiled and nodded and then when I got home I looked up Cotard’s Syndrome online. Here is what Wikipedia had to say on it.
“Cotard's syndrome, also known as ‘Cotard's delusion’ or ‘Walking Corpse Syndrome’, is a rare mental disorder in which the affected person holds the delusional belief that they are dead, do not exist, are putrefying, or have lost their blood or internal organs.”
I don’t know. Sounded extremely strange to me. I just knew my left arm was dying. Maybe my liver too. I used my right arm, the good one, to open my mail. Most of it was just the normal stuff but when I saw the letter from the Supreme Court of the State of New York I got a little worried. I was here legally - a citizen for almost ten years now - and I knew my rights but being summoned to testify at this criminal trial was a bit unnerving. I didn’t like it. I just try to do my best in this life and mind my own business and not cause problems for others.
When my trial appearance date arrived two months later I took the subway downtown and left my assistant, Stavvy, in charge of the office that day. I sat there on a hard wooden bench in the courtroom all morning listening to the testimony of other witnesses but I wasn’t called to the stand until sometime after we returned from lunch. Eventually, the lawyer for the defense called my name.
She mispronounced it of course - people here always mispronounce Albanian names - so I wasn’t surprised when she called me Mister Shka-Rell-Eee. My surname is Shkreli, after the place where my family comes from, and the proper pronunciation contains only two syllables - Shkrell-Eee. I was trying to hold my left arm in place when she asked her opening question.
Where was I at the time of the murder?
“Well, Miss Anderson” - I pronounced it Ahnd-REE-Sawn, drawing out the first and last syllables while placing too much emphasis on the middle one, intentionally - “I am not entirely certain. That was over a year ago and I travel all around this city on a daily basis for my job. I work in computer repair and IT support and I have customers in all five boroughs.” (This wasn’t exactly true. I wasn’t really willing to travel to Staten Island.) We had spoken four months earlier when she informed me of the questions she intended to ask at trial but I was fairly oblique then and I intended to remain so now. I had bigger problems. Could these people not see that my left arm was rotting away?
She looked at me with a furrowed brow and briskly walked back to the defense table, picked up a leather-bound notepad and opened it.
“Mister Shkreli, when you and I spoke on June 18th you confirmed that you were just leaving a client’s office, TRG Commercial Realty, located at 223 Broome Street here in lower Manhattan at approximately 3:30pm that day, shortly before the incident at issue took place less than one block away. Is that not correct?”
I turned up my native eastern European accent a bit and repositioned my left arm in my lap. I could barely feel it at that point. What was wrong with these people?
“If you say so. Like I said, that was over a year ago and it was just another workday for me.”
She stared at me for a beat or two longer than necessary and then flashed a quick look towards the jurors before continuing.
“Well yes, Mister Shkreli” - again it was Shka-Rell-Eee - “You did tell me that and I do have a recording of our conversation, which you consented to before we began, if the court would like this to be entered into evidence?”
She looked at the judge and the judge looked at me.
“Mister Shkreli,” - he too pronounced it Shka-Rell-Eee - ‘Are you refuting the testimony that Miss Anderson is referencing during your preliminary deposition or can we just move on at this point? If counsel for the defense claims to have this recording I am fairly certain this is true. Will it be necessary to enter this recording into evidence at this time or are you willing to acknowledge Miss Anderson’s claim?”
I repositioned my left arm in my lap and nodded.
“That’s fine, Your Honor. As I said, it was just another workday for me but if Miss Anderson says that is what we discussed I am sure she is probably right.”
The judge nodded back at me. “Very good. Let’s proceed then.”
Miss Anderson walked back to the defense table and dropped the leather-bound notepad before continuing with her final question for me, looking annoyed.
“Picking up where we left off, Mister Shkreli, can you please describe for the court what happened immediately after you left the offices of TRG Commercial Realty at 223 Broome Street on the date in question, October 22nd of last year?”
I didn’t like the way that she was trying to fence me in but I wasn't particularly concerned. I had bigger problems.
“Well, like I said, I don’t really remember that day. There was nothing memorable about it. It was just another day.”
She stared at me for a few seconds then flashed a quick look at the jury box with her eyebrows raised before returning her attention to the judge. “No more questions, Your Honor.”
I was dismissed from the stand but asked to remain in the courtroom as she called her next witness; a small, frail woman from Queens about my same age named Maureen Stewart. She had an odd, twitchy nature about her. I wanted to get home. I wanted to relax.
“Miss Stewart, can you please tell the court where you were on October 22nd of last year at approximately 3:30 in the afternoon?”
The witness looked down for a moment and then glanced towards the judge before removing the slightly confused look from her face and responding in a semi-automated tone.
“Yes, Miss Anderson. At that time, I was just leaving my day shift at the FedEx Office Store (she pronounced it ‘Staw’ in her thick New York accent) on Broome Street and I was walking towards the station for the Six Train to begin my ride back home.”
The attorney for the defense took a momentary pause and then asked her next question.
“And can you please tell us what happened then?”
The witness looked down again and then looked back at the judge, then the jury and, finally, at me. I didn’t like the way she looked at me.
“Yes, as I was leaving my workplace I crossed the street and I remember walking past the entrance to a narrow alleyway where I heard a commotion taking place. It made me stop and look for a second or two but I didn’t want to get involved so I just kept on walking towards the subway and I didn’t think too much about the whole thing until the Homicide detectives contacted me a few days later after they pulled the security camera videos. I came down to the police station the day after that and gave my statement. That was just over a year ago.”
Miss Anderson took a moment to stare at me. I didn’t like that either. I adjusted my left arm in my lap. It was completely numb.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart. Can you please be a bit more specific about what you saw occurring in that alleyway?”
Again, the witness looked down at the floor and then her eyes shot all around the courtroom before she responded.
“Well,” she said, before taking a brief pause. “At first I thought it was just a little scuffle but when I saw the shorter man in the black jacket punch the tall man in the belly a few times I saw some blood starting to spread on the side of his white button-down shirt and I saw what looked like a small knife or something in the shorter man’s hand. The tall thin man looked like he was starting to fall. I remember looking around for a police officer but I certainly wasn’t gonna do anything about it by myself. I mean, what could I do? When I didn’t see no one who could help I just kept on walking towards the subway. I guess I should have done more but I was scared and I just wanted to get back to Forest Hills to pick up my daughter from daycare before five o’clock.”
I glanced at the defendant seated at the table on the left. He looked both hopeful and nervous at the same time, but in a subtle way, like he didn’t want to appear to be either. He kept his head down and never once glanced towards the jury box. Miss Anderson asked her final question.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart. And do you see the man in the black jacket who stabbed the victim, Mister Baronston, on that day last October here in the courtroom now?”
Again the witness looked down at the floor between her feet for a moment and then looked back up, right at me. I felt my blood stop flowing through my veins, or at least through my left arm and the top of my right leg, when she raised up her hand and pointed her index finger at me.
“It was that man, there,” she said.
Miss Anderson nodded and paused for a moment, satisfied, letting it sink in for the jury members. I was stunned. The stylish defense attorney in the toney, expensive clothing began walking back in my direction and she too pointed an accusatory finger.
“If it pleases the court, let the record show that Miss Stewart has identified Mister Jack Shkreli as the attacker who she witnessed in the-”
Just then the witness on the stand, Miss Stewart, pointed her finger at the judge without really looking at him and suddenly blurted out, “Or him. It might have been him too. I’m not 100% sure...”
Miss Anderson paused, clearly nonplussed, and just stared at her witness. The judge also looked baffled for a second or two and then leaned over and whispered something to his court assistant and the two of them shared a quiet smirk.
Then the witness pointed at one of the jurors, a man in the front row about my size.
“Or him. It could have been him. I’m just not sure...” Then she went silent, as did the rest of the courtroom for a few moments. The State’s Attorney, a heavy-set bald man, broke the silence pretty quickly as he rose to his feet.
“Your Honor, the State would like to move to dismiss this witness along with all previous testimony.” He paused briefly and took a deep breath, choosing his next words.
“While we appreciate Miss Stewart’s willingness to appear at trial today, I think it’s clear that her recollection of events is…uncertain at best.” He glared at the defense table for a moment, then added “I’d just like to remind the court that Mister Shkreli” - and God bless him, he pronounced my two-syllable surname correctly - “is not on trial here and if this witness cannot distinguish the man she saw that day from yourself or a random member of our jury panel I don’t think we can accept this testimony or any further testimony from this witness.”
He hung his head respectfully, with the tiniest little smile on his face. He already knew he had won this argument and the judge quickly agreed, telling the jury to disregard what they just heard. Miss Stewart was dismissed from the stand and the defense had no other witnesses left to call. Less than two hours later the jury returned a guilty verdict against the defendant on all counts and the courtroom was cleared. The sentencing hearing would take place at a later date and I was not required to be there. My right leg was starting to feel numb by then but I still managed to get back to the office in time for Stavvy to head home at the end of his shift to make dinner for his kids. His wife was killed in a car accident two years earlier. He was a hard worker and I really liked him.
That night, back at my apartment, I did some research online and learned about a rare mental disorder known as Prosopagnosia. Here is what Wikipedia had to say.
Prosopagnosia, also known as face blindness, is a cognitive disorder of face perception in which the ability to recognize familiar faces, including one's own face (self-recognition), is impaired, while other aspects of visual processing (e.g. object discrimination) and intellectual functioning remain intact.
It all sounded pretty strange to me but if the doctors say it’s real who am I to argue? Apparently it is well documented in the DSM-5. I don’t know if this is the reason why I was able to walk away from the courtroom without consequence at first but I think it is the most likely explanation. I only know that when I left my client’s offices at TRG Commercial Realty on that day just over a year ago and hailed a cab I was stunned and confused when Mister Baronston, a complete stranger with a hostile face, suddenly attacked me, claiming that it was his cab and not mine.
He was bigger than me, tall and thin but strong, and I would have just given up the cab and caught the next one but he was clearly already very angry about something. When he backed me towards the alley, shoving me and then punching me around my head and neck, my backpack tumbled open and I saw my wallet and phone and some other items come crashing out onto the pavement. It was just a stupid and unnecessary altercation, the kind of thing that probably happens on the streets of this city every day, sadly. Too many people, not enough space. I did my best to fight back and protect myself but he was a good deal bigger than me.
Then I was getting punched some more and thrown against the alley wall as people passed by, disinterested, and I just instinctively reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the pen knife that has been attached to my keychain for years. Before I really knew what was happening it was open and then my right hand was growing warm and red and slick with his blood. Then I was moving again, not looking back.
What an odd thing. I remember seeing Miss Stewart stopping there on the sidewalk to look from the mouth of the alley that day. Of all the passers-by, she was the only one who paused to look at us, at me, right as I desperately punctured Mister Baronston’s rib cage for the fifth or sixth time with my little penknife and he began to drop, but she averted her gaze after a few seconds and moved on and then I was rapidly heading in the opposite direction. This is a huge city and I never expected to see her face again. Fortunately, she was apparently never really able to see mine.
Anyway, I have more important problems to worry about at this time. Stavvy received a letter from the Manhattan DA’s office yesterday ordering him to appear at a grand jury hearing next month related to my involvement in Mister Baronston’s death. He showed it to me. More importantly, my left arm is just about gone now, my right leg is quickly starting to feel the same way and in just the last day or two I have begun feeling that strange tingling sensation in the tips of the fingers on my right hand. I know my liver is failing. It won’t be long now.
I scheduled a meeting with my lawyer in the morning to legally put the business and the rest of my assets in Stavvy’s name in my will. I have no family here anyway and almost no relatives who I remain close with back in Albania or Montenegro anymore. Stavvy is a good man and he has kids to feed and I have already lived a full life.
So yes, I will just leave it all to him and after that’s done I think I will get the old Ford minivan that we sometimes still use for the business and drive it out to the George Washington Bridge while I am still able. I know that when I stop it and get out and leave it there on the center-span I will screw up traffic badly and inconvenience a lot of people but I can’t worry about that. I have to do what I have to do. There’s no point in waiting for this to get worse. I can barely feel the fingers on my right hand and I don’t have much time left.
Maybe I should have told the truth at the trial. I don’t know. I think I was just too distracted by all of my health problems. I didn’t really have any choice at the time. I don’t have any choice now. I’m actually surprised that I lasted this long. I was certain that I would already be gone a few months ago but I feel I have done my best with this life.
As my people back in Albania say, Mos pyet si vdiq, por si rrojti!
“Do not ask how he died, but how he lived!”
THE END
submitted by TheWorstThingy to shortstories [link] [comments]
Prosopagnosia v. Cotard's Syndrome
My new doctor - a bright and friendly guy named Sarbjit - took the time to explain his diagnosis to me. He told me my condition was mental, not physical, but it was hard to pay attention to everything he said because my left arm was numb and rotting from the inside out. I smiled and nodded and then when I got home I looked up Cotard’s Syndrome online. Here is what Wikipedia had to say on it.
“Cotard's syndrome, also known as ‘Cotard's delusion’ or ‘Walking Corpse Syndrome’, is a rare mental disorder in which the affected person holds the delusional belief that they are dead, do not exist, are putrefying, or have lost their blood or internal organs.”
I don’t know. Sounded extremely strange to me. I just knew my left arm was dying. Maybe my liver too. I used my right arm, the good one, to open my mail. Most of it was just the normal stuff but when I saw the letter from the Supreme Court of the State of New York I got a little worried. I was here legally - a citizen for almost ten years now - and I knew my rights but being summoned to testify at this criminal trial was a bit unnerving. I didn’t like it. I just try to do my best in this life and mind my own business and not cause problems for others.
When my trial appearance date arrived two months later I took the subway downtown and left my assistant, Stavvy, in charge of the office that day. I sat there on a hard wooden bench in the courtroom all morning listening to the testimony of other witnesses but I wasn’t called to the stand until sometime after we returned from lunch. Eventually, the lawyer for the defense called my name.
She mispronounced it of course - people here always mispronounce Albanian names - so I wasn’t surprised when she called me Mister Shka-Rell-Eee. My surname is Shkreli, after the place where my family comes from, and the proper pronunciation contains only two syllables - Shkrell-Eee. I was trying to hold my left arm in place when she asked her opening question.
Where was I at the time of the murder?
“Well, Miss Anderson” - I pronounced it Ahnd-REE-Sawn, drawing out the first and last syllables while placing too much emphasis on the middle one, intentionally - “I am not entirely certain. That was over a year ago and I travel all around this city on a daily basis for my job. I work in computer repair and IT support and I have customers in all five boroughs.” (This wasn’t exactly true. I wasn’t really willing to travel to Staten Island.) We had spoken four months earlier when she informed me of the questions she intended to ask at trial but I was fairly oblique then and I intended to remain so now. I had bigger problems. Could these people not see that my left arm was rotting away?
She looked at me with a furrowed brow and briskly walked back to the defense table, picked up a leather-bound notepad and opened it.
“Mister Shkreli, when you and I spoke on June 18th you confirmed that you were just leaving a client’s office, TRG Commercial Realty, located at 223 Broome Street here in lower Manhattan at approximately 3:30pm that day, shortly before the incident at issue took place less than one block away. Is that not correct?”
I turned up my native eastern European accent a bit and repositioned my left arm in my lap. I could barely feel it at that point. What was wrong with these people?
“If you say so. Like I said, that was over a year ago and it was just another workday for me.”
She stared at me for a beat or two longer than necessary and then flashed a quick look towards the jurors before continuing.
“Well yes, Mister Shkreli” - again it was Shka-Rell-Eee - “You did tell me that and I do have a recording of our conversation, which you consented to before we began, if the court would like this to be entered into evidence?”
She looked at the judge and the judge looked at me.
“Mister Shkreli,” - he too pronounced it Shka-Rell-Eee - ‘Are you refuting the testimony that Miss Anderson is referencing during your preliminary deposition or can we just move on at this point? If counsel for the defense claims to have this recording I am fairly certain this is true. Will it be necessary to enter this recording into evidence at this time or are you willing to acknowledge Miss Anderson’s claim?”
I repositioned my left arm in my lap and nodded.
“That’s fine, Your Honor. As I said, it was just another workday for me but if Miss Anderson says that is what we discussed I am sure she is probably right.”
The judge nodded back at me. “Very good. Let’s proceed then.”
Miss Anderson walked back to the defense table and dropped the leather-bound notepad before continuing with her final question for me, looking annoyed.
“Picking up where we left off, Mister Shkreli, can you please describe for the court what happened immediately after you left the offices of TRG Commercial Realty at 223 Broome Street on the date in question, October 22nd of last year?”
I didn’t like the way that she was trying to fence me in but I wasn't particularly concerned. I had bigger problems.
“Well, like I said, I don’t really remember that day. There was nothing memorable about it. It was just another day.”
She stared at me for a few seconds then flashed a quick look at the jury box with her eyebrows raised before returning her attention to the judge. “No more questions, Your Honor.”
I was dismissed from the stand but asked to remain in the courtroom as she called her next witness; a small, frail woman from Queens about my same age named Maureen Stewart. She had an odd, twitchy nature about her. I wanted to get home. I wanted to relax.
“Miss Stewart, can you please tell the court where you were on October 22nd of last year at approximately 3:30 in the afternoon?”
The witness looked down for a moment and then glanced towards the judge before removing the slightly confused look from her face and responding in a semi-automated tone.
“Yes, Miss Anderson. At that time, I was just leaving my day shift at the FedEx Office Store (she pronounced it ‘Staw’ in her thick New York accent) on Broome Street and I was walking towards the station for the Six Train to begin my ride back home.”
The attorney for the defense took a momentary pause and then asked her next question.
“And can you please tell us what happened then?”
The witness looked down again and then looked back at the judge, then the jury and, finally, at me. I didn’t like the way she looked at me.
“Yes, as I was leaving my workplace I crossed the street and I remember walking past the entrance to a narrow alleyway where I heard a commotion taking place. It made me stop and look for a second or two but I didn’t want to get involved so I just kept on walking towards the subway and I didn’t think too much about the whole thing until the Homicide detectives contacted me a few days later after they pulled the security camera videos. I came down to the police station the day after that and gave my statement. That was just over a year ago.”
Miss Anderson took a moment to stare at me. I didn’t like that either. I adjusted my left arm in my lap. It was completely numb.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart. Can you please be a bit more specific about what you saw occurring in that alleyway?”
Again, the witness looked down at the floor and then her eyes shot all around the courtroom before she responded.
“Well,” she said, before taking a brief pause. “At first I thought it was just a little scuffle but when I saw the shorter man in the black jacket punch the tall man in the belly a few times I saw some blood starting to spread on the side of his white button-down shirt and I saw what looked like a small knife or something in the shorter man’s hand. The tall thin man looked like he was starting to fall. I remember looking around for a police officer but I certainly wasn’t gonna do anything about it by myself. I mean, what could I do? When I didn’t see no one who could help I just kept on walking towards the subway. I guess I should have done more but I was scared and I just wanted to get back to Forest Hills to pick up my daughter from daycare before five o’clock.”
I glanced at the defendant seated at the table on the left. He looked both hopeful and nervous at the same time, but in a subtle way, like he didn’t want to appear to be either. He kept his head down and never once glanced towards the jury box. Miss Anderson asked her final question.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart. And do you see the man in the black jacket who stabbed the victim, Mister Baronston, on that day last October here in the courtroom now?”
Again the witness looked down at the floor between her feet for a moment and then looked back up, right at me. I felt my blood stop flowing through my veins, or at least through my left arm and the top of my right leg, when she raised up her hand and pointed her index finger at me.
“It was that man, there,” she said.
Miss Anderson nodded and paused for a moment, satisfied, letting it sink in for the jury members. I was stunned. The stylish defense attorney in the toney, expensive clothing began walking back in my direction and she too pointed an accusatory finger.
“If it pleases the court, let the record show that Miss Stewart has identified Mister Jack Shkreli as the attacker who she witnessed in the-”
Just then the witness on the stand, Miss Stewart, pointed her finger at the judge without really looking at him and suddenly blurted out, “Or him. It might have been him too. I’m not 100% sure...”
Miss Anderson paused, clearly nonplussed, and just stared at her witness. The judge also looked baffled for a second or two and then leaned over and whispered something to his court assistant and the two of them shared a quiet smirk.
Then the witness pointed at one of the jurors, a man in the front row about my size.
“Or him. It could have been him. I’m just not sure...” Then she went silent, as did the rest of the courtroom for a few moments. The State’s Attorney, a heavy-set bald man, broke the silence pretty quickly as he rose to his feet.
“Your Honor, the State would like to move to dismiss this witness along with all previous testimony.” He paused briefly and took a deep breath, choosing his next words.
“While we appreciate Miss Stewart’s willingness to appear at trial today, I think it’s clear that her recollection of events is…uncertain at best.” He glared at the defense table for a moment, then added “I’d just like to remind the court that Mister Shkreli” - and God bless him, he pronounced my two-syllable surname correctly - “is not on trial here and if this witness cannot distinguish the man she saw that day from yourself or a random member of our jury panel I don’t think we can accept this testimony or any further testimony from this witness.”
He hung his head respectfully, with the tiniest little smile on his face. He already knew he had won this argument and the judge quickly agreed, telling the jury to disregard what they just heard. Miss Stewart was dismissed from the stand and the defense had no other witnesses left to call. Less than two hours later the jury returned a guilty verdict against the defendant on all counts and the courtroom was cleared. The sentencing hearing would take place at a later date and I was not required to be there. My right leg was starting to feel numb by then but I still managed to get back to the office in time for Stavvy to head home at the end of his shift to make dinner for his kids. His wife was killed in a car accident two years earlier. He was a hard worker and I really liked him.
That night, back at my apartment, I did some research online and learned about a rare mental disorder known as Prosopagnosia. Here is what Wikipedia had to say.
Prosopagnosia, also known as face blindness, is a cognitive disorder of face perception in which the ability to recognize familiar faces, including one's own face (self-recognition), is impaired, while other aspects of visual processing (e.g. object discrimination) and intellectual functioning remain intact.
It all sounded pretty strange to me but if the doctors say it’s real who am I to argue? Apparently it is well documented in the DSM-5. I don’t know if this is the reason why I was able to walk away from the courtroom without consequence at first but I think it is the most likely explanation. I only know that when I left my client’s offices at TRG Commercial Realty on that day just over a year ago and hailed a cab I was stunned and confused when Mister Baronston, a complete stranger with a hostile face, suddenly attacked me, claiming that it was his cab and not mine.
He was bigger than me, tall and thin but strong, and I would have just given up the cab and caught the next one but he was clearly already very angry about something. When he backed me towards the alley, shoving me and then punching me around my head and neck, my backpack tumbled open and I saw my wallet and phone and some other items come crashing out onto the pavement. It was just a stupid and unnecessary altercation, the kind of thing that probably happens on the streets of this city every day, sadly. Too many people, not enough space. I did my best to fight back and protect myself but he was a good deal bigger than me.
Then I was getting punched some more and thrown against the alley wall as people passed by, disinterested, and I just instinctively reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the pen knife that has been attached to my keychain for years. Before I really knew what was happening it was open and then my right hand was growing warm and red and slick with his blood. Then I was moving again, not looking back.
What an odd thing. I remember seeing Miss Stewart stopping there on the sidewalk to look from the mouth of the alley that day. Of all the passers-by, she was the only one who paused to look at us, at me, right as I desperately punctured Mister Baronston’s rib cage for the fifth or sixth time with my little penknife and he began to drop, but she averted her gaze after a few seconds and moved on and then I was rapidly heading in the opposite direction. This is a huge city and I never expected to see her face again. Fortunately, she was apparently never really able to see mine.
Anyway, I have more important problems to worry about at this time. Stavvy received a letter from the Manhattan DA’s office yesterday ordering him to appear at a grand jury hearing next month related to my involvement in Mister Baronston’s death. He showed it to me. More importantly, my left arm is just about gone now, my right leg is quickly starting to feel the same way and in just the last day or two I have begun feeling that strange tingling sensation in the tips of the fingers on my right hand. I know my liver is failing. It won’t be long now.
I scheduled a meeting with my lawyer in the morning to legally put the business and the rest of my assets in Stavvy’s name in my will. I have no family here anyway and almost no relatives who I remain close with back in Albania or Montenegro anymore. Stavvy is a good man and he has kids to feed and I have already lived a full life.
So yes, I will just leave it all to him and after that’s done I think I will get the old Ford minivan that we sometimes still use for the business and drive it out to the George Washington Bridge while I am still able. I know that when I stop it and get out and leave it there on the center-span I will screw up traffic badly and inconvenience a lot of people but I can’t worry about that. I have to do what I have to do. There’s no point in waiting for this to get worse. I can barely feel the fingers on my right hand and I don’t have much time left.
Maybe I should have told the truth at the trial. I don’t know. I think I was just too distracted by all of my health problems. I didn’t really have any choice at the time. I don’t have any choice now. I’m actually surprised that I lasted this long. I was certain that I would already be gone a few months ago but I feel I have done my best with this life.
As my people back in Albania say, Mos pyet si vdiq, por si rrojti!
“Do not ask how he died, but how he lived!”
THE END
2024.06.09 08:16 Usual-Tale8335 My talking stage just dumped me what do I do?
I met this boy on Instagram and when I stared following him I thought he lived in the same province as me. He responded to me story and we started talking. We've been talking for a while and it got to the point where we were talking on Whatsapp. Idk maybe I misunderstood the situation but he seemed to want me. He would get mad over the fact that I have a boy best friend ans many other stuff. We flirted and so on and we've been talking for a while. I seemed more interested in knowing him since I was the one who asked questions abt him and so on. One day he posted a lot of videos like he was played or dumped and was being cold to me. We dryly texted each other for 2 days then he started love bombing me, asking me abt my days, asking me to send vms (when I do he doesn't answer with excitement so I stopped) my weak ass went back to talking normally with him despite my sister's warnings. We've been talking normally but yesterday when I asked him what type of stuff he watched I wanted to know if he watched anime he said "I watch series" "Animes are for gay people" yep he's that kind of guy
And then all of the sudden wrote a paragraph to me he said I and quote: "Bri ngl I just want to be real with you, I think u tryna invest in a "relationship" with me is not a good idea cus uk how long distance and shit like that do people end up being hurt and I don't want to hurt no body so thinks it would be best if we js stopped talking or js be friends"
I just reacted with a 👍🏽
He said sry
Now that I read the message again while retyping it, it hurt me even more. I feel soooo stupid and I honestly want to block him, the "sryy" he sent at the end well it's pissing me off like he's feeling sry for me or smth. Yesterday I was sad and now I'm mad. How does one respond to such situation!?
I honestly want to block him Should I block him, be friends with him or just stop talking to him?
submitted by Usual-Tale8335 to Advice [link] [comments]
And then all of the sudden wrote a paragraph to me he said I and quote: "Bri ngl I just want to be real with you, I think u tryna invest in a "relationship" with me is not a good idea cus uk how long distance and shit like that do people end up being hurt and I don't want to hurt no body so thinks it would be best if we js stopped talking or js be friends"
I just reacted with a 👍🏽
He said sry
Now that I read the message again while retyping it, it hurt me even more. I feel soooo stupid and I honestly want to block him, the "sryy" he sent at the end well it's pissing me off like he's feeling sry for me or smth. Yesterday I was sad and now I'm mad. How does one respond to such situation!?
I honestly want to block him Should I block him, be friends with him or just stop talking to him?
2024.06.09 08:02 carlessdriver Report on today's bike ride (life as a trans woman)
[NOTE 1: there is some mention of fear and dysphoria in this report so anyone not ready for that should click away]
[NOTE 2: this is actually a positivity and thriving post so if you are into those things be looking for it as you read.]
TLDR at the end!
Right. So today I did my usual route for a short ride. Takes me through mostly residential neighborhoods and passes through a very trendy suburban downtown that I enjoy very much. Lots of backyard graduation parties and in some places kids playing in the middle of the street which I avoided because, while I love people, today was not a day for me to get really close to people.
There were a few times when I caught people glancing or staring at me. One of these actually seemed to slow his car down and take a really long look at me and then turned left in what I interpreted to be a move to try to get a better look at me. I instinctively took a right when he took his left and "did a route" which is my way of saying I lost him by dodging through alleys and other narrow spots where I knew the car could not follow. It was clearly a moment of overabundance of caution as he most likely was not going to stalk me or accost me but one never knows. I always opt for the safe option in uncertain moments like that.
A key thing about today's ride is that I left the house feeling fairly confident but every shop window that I passed (that I was able to see my reflection in) disappointed me because I did not like what I saw. I felt I was just looking too manly.
Regarding that last paragraph; I try not to let these feelings bother me. I spent a good part of the return leg home thinking about how far I am still from passing. I don't let these thoughts stop me from going out because I firmly believe that the world needs to see more people like me who might look like a woman from a distance or from behind but then confuse them when they get closer.
This is not about the world giving me room to exist, it is about people not knowing what to do when they come across people who don't fit the typical categories they expect to see. The world needs a lot more of this so that unique people like myself don't have to feel odd or afraid about going out into the world. I kind of feel like an ambassador or something with a duty to give people a chance to see that the world is more diverse than they can currently imagine.
TLDR: despite some negative aspects today's bike ride was still affirming and I feel stronger in my identity.
submitted by carlessdriver to MtF [link] [comments]
[NOTE 2: this is actually a positivity and thriving post so if you are into those things be looking for it as you read.]
TLDR at the end!
Right. So today I did my usual route for a short ride. Takes me through mostly residential neighborhoods and passes through a very trendy suburban downtown that I enjoy very much. Lots of backyard graduation parties and in some places kids playing in the middle of the street which I avoided because, while I love people, today was not a day for me to get really close to people.
There were a few times when I caught people glancing or staring at me. One of these actually seemed to slow his car down and take a really long look at me and then turned left in what I interpreted to be a move to try to get a better look at me. I instinctively took a right when he took his left and "did a route" which is my way of saying I lost him by dodging through alleys and other narrow spots where I knew the car could not follow. It was clearly a moment of overabundance of caution as he most likely was not going to stalk me or accost me but one never knows. I always opt for the safe option in uncertain moments like that.
A key thing about today's ride is that I left the house feeling fairly confident but every shop window that I passed (that I was able to see my reflection in) disappointed me because I did not like what I saw. I felt I was just looking too manly.
Regarding that last paragraph; I try not to let these feelings bother me. I spent a good part of the return leg home thinking about how far I am still from passing. I don't let these thoughts stop me from going out because I firmly believe that the world needs to see more people like me who might look like a woman from a distance or from behind but then confuse them when they get closer.
This is not about the world giving me room to exist, it is about people not knowing what to do when they come across people who don't fit the typical categories they expect to see. The world needs a lot more of this so that unique people like myself don't have to feel odd or afraid about going out into the world. I kind of feel like an ambassador or something with a duty to give people a chance to see that the world is more diverse than they can currently imagine.
TLDR: despite some negative aspects today's bike ride was still affirming and I feel stronger in my identity.
2024.06.09 07:46 lildip_dip i need some advice
 | she says she wants to be friends but she still has feelings submitted by lildip_dip to ExNoContact [link] [comments] she started off saying she wanted a break we had been dating for 6 months she said she just always saw herself being alone she used to see a future with us she all of a sudden can’t no more she went from being attached and madly in love with me to acting cold in the span of a month no she wasn’t cheating she removed every guy on all of her socials for me anyways she said she will still always love me and she still has feelings she just needs some time to gain her independence back i talked to her sister she said to give her space check up on her every couple weeks because she was planning to move down to my city for me with her sister our relationship is long distance she’s 2 hours away i think if i play my cards right we will end up back together i think she was just overwhelmed and felt very dependent on me i’m her first real boyfriend that has treated her like a queen this girl saved my life got me on the right path i was her first everything i think when she moves down here and distance isn’t a problem anymore we will get back together i’m planning on staying friends tell she moves down here i’ll play my cards right and we’ll end up back together but being friends with an ex depends on the situation like my situation ik we’re gonna get back together and so does her whole family but if we don’t end up getting back together and she wants to stay friends i’m gonna have to cut her off because i’m still deeply in love with this girl and no way i’m boutta be used for attention ik she’s not getting with any other guys anytime soon she hasn’t added any back and probbaly won’t she doesn’t have many friends i’m like her only friends tbh she told me i did nothing wrong in the relationship she just needed time because she put all her energy into me and was losing her self |
2024.06.09 06:30 KaizokuoDLuffy Confused how to go about writing SoP for Visa. Help!
Posting this from a friend's account because I got locked out of mine.
Hi all! I (28 F) am new to this sub so I hope this is the right place to seek help for my particular scenario. Mods, please bear with me if I am.
I am in the process of applying for a Visa to join NCI for its Higher Diploma in Science in Computing, an NFQ Level 8 conversion course designed to reskill people from non-IT background to graduate standard in the field. I have been accepted by NCI and now all that remains is to write a statement of purpose for the visa, but I have been having difficulties drawing inspiration from to write one meaningfully.
I have been looking for sources or templates online to measure my SoP against. But it seems there are none for the NFQ Level 8s. And herein is where my problem lies because I don’t have a way to know if the one I have written is impactful enough for a successful visa obtainment.
I'll try to keep this brief so here's a little about me. I graduated in Journalism & Mass Communication in 2017 and got my first job as a digital marketer. The whole thing wasn't my cup of tea but I learnt about web development from a couple of projects I worked on and discovered that I had quite a knack for it.
Fast forward to 2020, I quit my job to reskill myself because digital marketing was getting me nowhere. But then Covid struck and we went through some tough times so I had to keep myself afloat teaching Korean on the side. I learnt web development on my own knowing absolutely zilch about computers. But I was able to learn enough to build simple websites and web apps on my own. This took me up till the end of 2022. Luckily, I caught a break in 2023 and worked on a couple of jobs as a junior web developer. But I felt the need for a formal education while working at these jobs because I realised I could be out of my depth at times. This is also when I learnt about conversion courses for professionals from non-IT vocations and decided to apply at universities.
Thankfully, I got in at NCI and now need to get a visa. I have seen sample SoPs online for NFQ Level 9 courses but nothing for an international student wanting to go for an NFQ Level 8 conversion course. My question to the sub is, has anyone gone through a similar experience and share tips on how to compose an SoP? Or are there any places I am not looking online for sample SoPs tailored to my circumstance? I know I am asking for too much but I hope someone has an answer. Thank you!!
submitted by KaizokuoDLuffy to DevelEire [link] [comments]
Hi all! I (28 F) am new to this sub so I hope this is the right place to seek help for my particular scenario. Mods, please bear with me if I am.
I am in the process of applying for a Visa to join NCI for its Higher Diploma in Science in Computing, an NFQ Level 8 conversion course designed to reskill people from non-IT background to graduate standard in the field. I have been accepted by NCI and now all that remains is to write a statement of purpose for the visa, but I have been having difficulties drawing inspiration from to write one meaningfully.
I have been looking for sources or templates online to measure my SoP against. But it seems there are none for the NFQ Level 8s. And herein is where my problem lies because I don’t have a way to know if the one I have written is impactful enough for a successful visa obtainment.
I'll try to keep this brief so here's a little about me. I graduated in Journalism & Mass Communication in 2017 and got my first job as a digital marketer. The whole thing wasn't my cup of tea but I learnt about web development from a couple of projects I worked on and discovered that I had quite a knack for it.
Fast forward to 2020, I quit my job to reskill myself because digital marketing was getting me nowhere. But then Covid struck and we went through some tough times so I had to keep myself afloat teaching Korean on the side. I learnt web development on my own knowing absolutely zilch about computers. But I was able to learn enough to build simple websites and web apps on my own. This took me up till the end of 2022. Luckily, I caught a break in 2023 and worked on a couple of jobs as a junior web developer. But I felt the need for a formal education while working at these jobs because I realised I could be out of my depth at times. This is also when I learnt about conversion courses for professionals from non-IT vocations and decided to apply at universities.
Thankfully, I got in at NCI and now need to get a visa. I have seen sample SoPs online for NFQ Level 9 courses but nothing for an international student wanting to go for an NFQ Level 8 conversion course. My question to the sub is, has anyone gone through a similar experience and share tips on how to compose an SoP? Or are there any places I am not looking online for sample SoPs tailored to my circumstance? I know I am asking for too much but I hope someone has an answer. Thank you!!
2024.06.09 06:22 spacesquidwrangler VERY bare-bones rendition of my VERY limited understanding of the theory behind these systems. From what I've picked up I think I've got the gist down, but I'd like to know if you guys think I have anything fundamentally wrong.
I started writing this as something to send to my friends as we regularly argue and debate over politics and I don't feel like I've ever had the opportunity or congruity in my ideas to fully formulate them. While much of this is written matter-of-fact'ly I want to preface this by saying I am not a political theorist by any stretch of the imagination. I am woefully uninformed especially compared to anyone who could be rightly named an "expert" on the subject. Keep in mind also that, as I said, this was written with it being sent to my friends in mind and is formatted as such. To keep with the sort of stream of consciousness I was going for I won't be reformatting this for the post. Also, just for clarification in case I failed to make it apparent; when I use the word "countries" in the 3rd paragraph I'm referring to countries with the definition in mind that they are an indefinite usually extended expanses of land with which its residents identify, similar to but distinct from regions, and not as states.
So, here it is:
Capitalism is most easily defined by the whims of the capitalist. The goal of the capitalist is infinite growth. Before I hear something pedantic like "not all capitalists want to grow infinitely" the most successful capitalists in history are the largest corporations in the world (e.g. Blackrock, J.P. Morgan, The Bank of China, Exxon Mobile and other such monopolies) which own hundreds if not thousands of other corporations all with global reach and many of which are monopolies in their own right. So, the goal of the capitalist is infinite growth. And therefor the goal of capitalism is infinite growth. Infinite growth is not possible, and the capitalist knows this. This is why we have ups and downs in the economy. Bubbles that grow and then pop. Capitalists use capital to grow economies to create more capital to fill the bubble that is the (an) economy. When the bubble gets too big to continue growing, it pops, and the economy collapses. Leaving the capitalists with all (a gross majority) of the capital created in the bubble. They then use some of the capital to reform the economy to grow larger yet, until it can grow no more, and pops. So on. This IS capitalism. It is a vicious cycle of elites growing and destroying economies to accrue more capital at the expense of every one and every thing else in the world. You hear a lot that "capitalism doesn't work", it works perfectly. It works exactly as intended. This is capitalism functioning: Growth, pop, hoarding, investment, growth, pop, hoarding, investment. We should be able to agree this is not sustainable and that it causes unnecessary harm to billions of people who are not the select few orchestrating and benefiting from this cycle. And based on that we should be able to agree that we need an alternative.
So, at the most basic level, what is socialism and why is it a necessary alternative? Socialism is the re-appropriation of the existing capital. You hear a lot of misinformed people saying that the resources to provide for everyone are non-existent, this is objectively false. These resources are squarely in the hands of capitalists and they have far beyond what is required to meet the basic needs of all people. Socialism is taking the existing capital out of the hands of hoarding elites and distributing it into socialized programs such as healthcare, education, infrastructure, housing, and other basic needs for all of civilization. Use the economies and resources present to form a sustainable society. Accepting socialism as the necessary and inevitable successor to capitalism is the acknowledgement that the previous statement is accomplish-able, and it is. Now, I could end this here, but let's take the time to go further.
What is communism, and why will it succeed socialism? As capitalism is the accruement of capital and socialism is the re-appropriation of capital, communism would be the obsolescence of capital. Capital would still have a place in the world, but communities would not be reliant on it. They would live self sustainably through collectivized maintenance and development of those communities. Smaller communities would be unites of larger communities, which would collectivize the maintenance and development of those larger communities and, ideally, the world. You operate as a collective with your neighbors towards common goals in your neighborhood, your neighborhood collectivizes with other neighborhoods towards common goals in your town, your town collectivizes with other towns towards common goals in your region, your region collectivizes with other regions towards common goals in your country, your country collectivizes with other countries towards common goals globally.
And now I say, what is anarchy and why will it succeed communism? Anarchy is the abolition of capital and the flattening of all previous hierarchies. The transition from communism to anarchy is societies development into a fluid functionality of consensus and negotiation between people in where the status quo of capital has died and the new status quo has become the common good.
So there it is. Like the title says, I think I have a very very simplistic understanding of the idea here that I can push off of and learn more from. But if there's anything I have fundamentally wrong I'd like to hear from my fellow anarchists.
submitted by spacesquidwrangler to Anarchy101 [link] [comments]
So, here it is:
Capitalism is most easily defined by the whims of the capitalist. The goal of the capitalist is infinite growth. Before I hear something pedantic like "not all capitalists want to grow infinitely" the most successful capitalists in history are the largest corporations in the world (e.g. Blackrock, J.P. Morgan, The Bank of China, Exxon Mobile and other such monopolies) which own hundreds if not thousands of other corporations all with global reach and many of which are monopolies in their own right. So, the goal of the capitalist is infinite growth. And therefor the goal of capitalism is infinite growth. Infinite growth is not possible, and the capitalist knows this. This is why we have ups and downs in the economy. Bubbles that grow and then pop. Capitalists use capital to grow economies to create more capital to fill the bubble that is the (an) economy. When the bubble gets too big to continue growing, it pops, and the economy collapses. Leaving the capitalists with all (a gross majority) of the capital created in the bubble. They then use some of the capital to reform the economy to grow larger yet, until it can grow no more, and pops. So on. This IS capitalism. It is a vicious cycle of elites growing and destroying economies to accrue more capital at the expense of every one and every thing else in the world. You hear a lot that "capitalism doesn't work", it works perfectly. It works exactly as intended. This is capitalism functioning: Growth, pop, hoarding, investment, growth, pop, hoarding, investment. We should be able to agree this is not sustainable and that it causes unnecessary harm to billions of people who are not the select few orchestrating and benefiting from this cycle. And based on that we should be able to agree that we need an alternative.
So, at the most basic level, what is socialism and why is it a necessary alternative? Socialism is the re-appropriation of the existing capital. You hear a lot of misinformed people saying that the resources to provide for everyone are non-existent, this is objectively false. These resources are squarely in the hands of capitalists and they have far beyond what is required to meet the basic needs of all people. Socialism is taking the existing capital out of the hands of hoarding elites and distributing it into socialized programs such as healthcare, education, infrastructure, housing, and other basic needs for all of civilization. Use the economies and resources present to form a sustainable society. Accepting socialism as the necessary and inevitable successor to capitalism is the acknowledgement that the previous statement is accomplish-able, and it is. Now, I could end this here, but let's take the time to go further.
What is communism, and why will it succeed socialism? As capitalism is the accruement of capital and socialism is the re-appropriation of capital, communism would be the obsolescence of capital. Capital would still have a place in the world, but communities would not be reliant on it. They would live self sustainably through collectivized maintenance and development of those communities. Smaller communities would be unites of larger communities, which would collectivize the maintenance and development of those larger communities and, ideally, the world. You operate as a collective with your neighbors towards common goals in your neighborhood, your neighborhood collectivizes with other neighborhoods towards common goals in your town, your town collectivizes with other towns towards common goals in your region, your region collectivizes with other regions towards common goals in your country, your country collectivizes with other countries towards common goals globally.
And now I say, what is anarchy and why will it succeed communism? Anarchy is the abolition of capital and the flattening of all previous hierarchies. The transition from communism to anarchy is societies development into a fluid functionality of consensus and negotiation between people in where the status quo of capital has died and the new status quo has become the common good.
So there it is. Like the title says, I think I have a very very simplistic understanding of the idea here that I can push off of and learn more from. But if there's anything I have fundamentally wrong I'd like to hear from my fellow anarchists.
2024.06.09 05:52 SemiStoryTeller M4F Casual roleplay
Hey party people!
I am looking for a SOL-style or adventure-style roleplay. I am hoping to find someone my character can chat with. Maybe we are sitting out at a candlelight dinner, maybe we are strangers sharing a table at a coffee shop, or maybe we are a married couple just home from work. Maybe we are strangers from a different time and place who stumbed into a pocket dimension and are meeting someone across time and space. Bonus points if we have two completely different characters who have common interests.
Where we go from here is up to us. We can keep things casual and meet once in a while to share stories. We could go on adventures together. We could play house. We could have just this one chance meeting and end things.
I have several character ideas, male and female, and I generally build them to suit the environment.
What I'm looking for is someone who can write a good paragraph or two. Someone who writes in the third person.
This is open until marked closed or deleted
Feel free to message me if you are interested. Cheers.
Oh and if it matters I'm MST or GMT-7 timezone.
submitted by SemiStoryTeller to Roleplay [link] [comments]
I am looking for a SOL-style or adventure-style roleplay. I am hoping to find someone my character can chat with. Maybe we are sitting out at a candlelight dinner, maybe we are strangers sharing a table at a coffee shop, or maybe we are a married couple just home from work. Maybe we are strangers from a different time and place who stumbed into a pocket dimension and are meeting someone across time and space. Bonus points if we have two completely different characters who have common interests.
Where we go from here is up to us. We can keep things casual and meet once in a while to share stories. We could go on adventures together. We could play house. We could have just this one chance meeting and end things.
I have several character ideas, male and female, and I generally build them to suit the environment.
What I'm looking for is someone who can write a good paragraph or two. Someone who writes in the third person.
This is open until marked closed or deleted
Feel free to message me if you are interested. Cheers.
Oh and if it matters I'm MST or GMT-7 timezone.
2024.06.09 05:43 GenX2XADHD How to Write a Paper When You Have ADHD
Getting organized to sit down and write a major term paper is such a daunting task for us folks with ADHD. As a student I would have vague ideas of what I want to write, but lacked the executive function to get to the job done. I would stare at a blank Word doc, type a sentence, delete a sentence, repeat. Unexpected for a writing major, I know. Are you looking for a way to break out of this cycle?
May I present: the Index Card Method.
As a high school student in the 1990s, I was forced to use this method to write a ten page senior thesis. Nearly all senior level English classes in my school used this method. Prior to that year, I had seen students carrying around fat stacks of index cards, protecting them like their ability to graduate depended on them. It did. I begrudgingly followed this methodical approach even though it wasn't "the way I write." Ironically, I found it so helpful I continued using this method throughout college, and admittedly even in grad school 25 years later.
What is it?
It's a low-tech system of organizing your sources, topics, details, citations, and anything else that goes into your paper.
Why low-tech?
It is a hands-on process loaded with sensory actions. Physically handling and arranging the index cards helps me focus on a task. Filling out an index card and setting it aside and then picking up another FEELS productive. Seeing a growing pile of index cards as you move through the project LOOKS like productivity. These sensory activities boost my momentum.
The best part of this method is how it breaks down a mountain of a project into smaller tasks without requiring me to create a big plan before I can start working on it. The size of each task is literally the size of an index card. Plus, it is an opportunity to use those cool pens you bought the last time you said you would start journaling.
The Index Card Method cannot be done the night before a paper is due, at least I wouldn't try it anyway. If you don't like writing outlines or drafts, give this method a try - but if you're cramming, do give yourself a week to get it done.
How does it work?
Do not get 150 4x6 cards. They must be 3x5.
For this post, I will assume anyone following this method is using lined index cards. It does not matter if the cards are lined, but know that when I say "On the top line write..." I mean where the actual top line of the card would be. This also means you will be writing across width of the cards in landscape orientation, meaning a full line of text on a 3x5 card runs 5 inches, not 3 inches.
There are two simple, but vital rules to remember when creating cards.
In the center of the top line of your thesis card, write "Thesis Statement."
Now write your thesis statement below that.
Topics should be broad, written as one or two words. Create as many topic cards as you think you will need. You can always create more later, so don't get stuck on this part.
Example: topics related to a thesis on the healthcare industry may include: Insurance, Costs, Medicare, Medicaid, Prevention, Prescription Drugs, Hospitals, etc.
Split a topic if you need to. "Costs" could also be split into "Consumer Costs" and "National Costs", then "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs".
Don't expect to have a lot of topic cards at this point. You may only have one or two subtopics for each broad topic. This is fine. You can always add more as you go along.
Take a picture of your topic cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just made an outline!
Now type it out. Title it "Preliminary Outline."
In the upper left hand corner of the card on the top line, write the number "1", as it is your first Bibliography card. This is your source ID.
Now write the complete and proper reference of your source, formatted according to your citation style. Include doi links, if applicable. Where italic font is used in a citation, underline it on your card.
Open a new document file. Title it "References", "Works Cited", etc., depending on your citation style. Type out your bibliography cards in the order appropriate to your citation style. Most likely they will be alphabetical by author. As you find more sources and write out bibliography cards, add them to this document.
About citation styles:
A citation style is a way to reference your sources, specifically how you list them out and how you identify where you found a fact or quote.
If you are in highschool, your teacher will tell you how to write write and format sources and citations. If they don't, ask.
If you are an undergrad, most professors don't care which style you choose, but they want it consistent. If this is the case, I recommend using APA or MLA because they use simple, in-line citations.
If you are a graduate student, use the appropriate style for your field. If your reference style uses foot notes or end notes, please be aware you may need to create citation IDs later to help you stay organized.
This is where I would normally say it does not matter if your sources are printed or digital, but for many of us it does matter. Stepping away from technology is one the reasons I find this method so effective. I encourage you to print articles or photocopy sources when possible.
Your school likely has access to full-text articles online that can be downloaded as PDFs and printed later.
If your source is text from a website, right click on in the body of the text and select Print. When the print window pops up, select PDF (or Adobe PDF) as your printer. In the next pop up, select where you would like to store your file. Your source is now saved as a PDF. By the way, printing to a PDF is the easiest way to save a file while maintaining its formatting. Try it from any program. Now when you print it to paper, it will look like the PDF.
In the upper left corner on the top line, write the source ID that matches the one on its respective bibliography card.
In the upper right corner on the top line of each card write the page number(s) from your source as "p 87" or "pp 87-88". If your source does not have page numbers, write your source's equivalent as it applies (act/scene numbers, time stamp, etc.). Look up a style reference guide for requirements.
Now in your own words, write about an area you highlighted. If you want to directly quote the article, make sure you use quotation marks. Otherwise, simply paraphrase it. Use complete sentences.
If you are copying a long quote and run out of room on a card, write the topic, source ID, and page number on another new card and continue writing your quote. In the bottom right corners write "1 of 2" and "2 of 2" respectively.
Create bibliography and detail cards for all your sources. Find more sources as needed. For a 10-page double spaced paper, expect to have around 150-200 detail cards.
By this time you may also want to combine or eliminate topics because your project took a different direction from when you first wrote them. This is fine.
When you think you have enough detail cards, sort them into piles by topic. Now arrange your detail cards in columns under their topics in a way that makes sense to you.
Take a picture of all your cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just layed out your final outline!
You should not have anything in your final outline that is not written down on an index card.
Now print it . Proofread it. Ask a friend to proofread it. Mark it up and make any necessary changes on paper. Don't change any quoted text because quotes are ...well ...quotes.
Your paper is done.
High school students, if your teacher doesn't think you've made enough changes between your draft and your final copy, hand over your stack of index cards, both outlines, and your highlighted sources. They will know you didn't use ChatGPT or copy someone else's work because you can't fake what you've just handed to them.
Edit: See my other post for a technique that harnesses your ADHD to help you organize a project or to present new ideas to a group.
https://www.reddit.com/TwoXADHD/s/Y4pUfQR0R3
submitted by GenX2XADHD to TwoXADHD [link] [comments]
May I present: the Index Card Method.
As a high school student in the 1990s, I was forced to use this method to write a ten page senior thesis. Nearly all senior level English classes in my school used this method. Prior to that year, I had seen students carrying around fat stacks of index cards, protecting them like their ability to graduate depended on them. It did. I begrudgingly followed this methodical approach even though it wasn't "the way I write." Ironically, I found it so helpful I continued using this method throughout college, and admittedly even in grad school 25 years later.
What is it?
It's a low-tech system of organizing your sources, topics, details, citations, and anything else that goes into your paper.
Why low-tech?
It is a hands-on process loaded with sensory actions. Physically handling and arranging the index cards helps me focus on a task. Filling out an index card and setting it aside and then picking up another FEELS productive. Seeing a growing pile of index cards as you move through the project LOOKS like productivity. These sensory activities boost my momentum.
The best part of this method is how it breaks down a mountain of a project into smaller tasks without requiring me to create a big plan before I can start working on it. The size of each task is literally the size of an index card. Plus, it is an opportunity to use those cool pens you bought the last time you said you would start journaling.
The Index Card Method cannot be done the night before a paper is due, at least I wouldn't try it anyway. If you don't like writing outlines or drafts, give this method a try - but if you're cramming, do give yourself a week to get it done.
How does it work?
Step 1: Cards
Get some 3x5 index cards. For a 10-page, double spaced paper, you will need around 300 cards.Do not get 150 4x6 cards. They must be 3x5.
For this post, I will assume anyone following this method is using lined index cards. It does not matter if the cards are lined, but know that when I say "On the top line write..." I mean where the actual top line of the card would be. This also means you will be writing across width of the cards in landscape orientation, meaning a full line of text on a 3x5 card runs 5 inches, not 3 inches.
There are two simple, but vital rules to remember when creating cards.
- Only write on one side of the card. Leave the other side blank. You will need to see all of a card's contents at a quick glance.
- If you make a mistake on a card, immediately tear it in half so it doesn't get mixed up with the ones you want to keep.
Step 2: Thesis card
You will only have a thesis card if you are writing a thesis (argument) paper.In the center of the top line of your thesis card, write "Thesis Statement."
Now write your thesis statement below that.
Step 3: Topic cards
In the center of the top line write "Topic." Below that, write the name of a topic related to your thesis statement.Topics should be broad, written as one or two words. Create as many topic cards as you think you will need. You can always create more later, so don't get stuck on this part.
Example: topics related to a thesis on the healthcare industry may include: Insurance, Costs, Medicare, Medicaid, Prevention, Prescription Drugs, Hospitals, etc.
Step 4: First Layout
Spread out your topic cards on a table. Select the broadest topics and line them up in a row in the order in which you would like them in your paper. Now arrange the narrower topics in columns below the broad topics in the order that makes sense to you. Using the example of the healthcare industry in the previous step, "Costs" may be a broad topic with "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs" listed beneath it.Split a topic if you need to. "Costs" could also be split into "Consumer Costs" and "National Costs", then "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs".
Don't expect to have a lot of topic cards at this point. You may only have one or two subtopics for each broad topic. This is fine. You can always add more as you go along.
Take a picture of your topic cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just made an outline!
Now type it out. Title it "Preliminary Outline."
Step 5: Sources
Go find sources you would like to use for your paper. When you find a source you would like to use, create a bibliography card.Step 6: Bibliography cards
In the center of the top line write "Bibliography".In the upper left hand corner of the card on the top line, write the number "1", as it is your first Bibliography card. This is your source ID.
Now write the complete and proper reference of your source, formatted according to your citation style. Include doi links, if applicable. Where italic font is used in a citation, underline it on your card.
Open a new document file. Title it "References", "Works Cited", etc., depending on your citation style. Type out your bibliography cards in the order appropriate to your citation style. Most likely they will be alphabetical by author. As you find more sources and write out bibliography cards, add them to this document.
About citation styles:
A citation style is a way to reference your sources, specifically how you list them out and how you identify where you found a fact or quote.
If you are in highschool, your teacher will tell you how to write write and format sources and citations. If they don't, ask.
If you are an undergrad, most professors don't care which style you choose, but they want it consistent. If this is the case, I recommend using APA or MLA because they use simple, in-line citations.
If you are a graduate student, use the appropriate style for your field. If your reference style uses foot notes or end notes, please be aware you may need to create citation IDs later to help you stay organized.
Step 7: Read and Highlight
As you read through your sources, highlight anything that stands out to you that you may want to use in your paper.This is where I would normally say it does not matter if your sources are printed or digital, but for many of us it does matter. Stepping away from technology is one the reasons I find this method so effective. I encourage you to print articles or photocopy sources when possible.
Your school likely has access to full-text articles online that can be downloaded as PDFs and printed later.
If your source is text from a website, right click on in the body of the text and select Print. When the print window pops up, select PDF (or Adobe PDF) as your printer. In the next pop up, select where you would like to store your file. Your source is now saved as a PDF. By the way, printing to a PDF is the easiest way to save a file while maintaining its formatting. Try it from any program. Now when you print it to paper, it will look like the PDF.
STEP 8: Detail cards
In the center of the top line write the topic related to the highlighted text. If you do not have a related topic card, make one.In the upper left corner on the top line, write the source ID that matches the one on its respective bibliography card.
In the upper right corner on the top line of each card write the page number(s) from your source as "p 87" or "pp 87-88". If your source does not have page numbers, write your source's equivalent as it applies (act/scene numbers, time stamp, etc.). Look up a style reference guide for requirements.
Now in your own words, write about an area you highlighted. If you want to directly quote the article, make sure you use quotation marks. Otherwise, simply paraphrase it. Use complete sentences.
If you are copying a long quote and run out of room on a card, write the topic, source ID, and page number on another new card and continue writing your quote. In the bottom right corners write "1 of 2" and "2 of 2" respectively.
Create bibliography and detail cards for all your sources. Find more sources as needed. For a 10-page double spaced paper, expect to have around 150-200 detail cards.
Step 9: Second Layout
Lay out all of your topic cards in the same order as your preliminary outline, only this time line them all up in one row.By this time you may also want to combine or eliminate topics because your project took a different direction from when you first wrote them. This is fine.
When you think you have enough detail cards, sort them into piles by topic. Now arrange your detail cards in columns under their topics in a way that makes sense to you.
Take a picture of all your cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just layed out your final outline!
Step 10: Type Your Outline
Save a copy of your preliminary outline and title it "Final Outline." Fill in the text from the detail cards. Each detail card should be a separate bullet point on your outline. After typing out a detail card, add the citation at the end. You already know the source because you wrote the source number in the upper left hand corner of each card.You should not have anything in your final outline that is not written down on an index card.
Step 11: First Draft
Save a copy of your final outline and name it "First Draft." Now arrange your bullet points into paragraphs. This is your draft.Now print it . Proofread it. Ask a friend to proofread it. Mark it up and make any necessary changes on paper. Don't change any quoted text because quotes are ...well ...quotes.
Step 12: Final Copy
Save a copy of your First draft and name the file "Final Copy." Type the edits you handwrote on paper. I realize with today's technology a lot of proofreading and peer editing is done electronically. This is fine. If you're using Google Docs, be sure to use Suggestion Mode. If using Word, turn on Track Changes.Your paper is done.
High school students, if your teacher doesn't think you've made enough changes between your draft and your final copy, hand over your stack of index cards, both outlines, and your highlighted sources. They will know you didn't use ChatGPT or copy someone else's work because you can't fake what you've just handed to them.
Edit: See my other post for a technique that harnesses your ADHD to help you organize a project or to present new ideas to a group.
https://www.reddit.com/TwoXADHD/s/Y4pUfQR0R3
2024.06.09 05:31 BigStompyCatPaws [F4M] Romance between an alien and a human man. [Slow burn, story driven, multi-para]
My normal posts are 2-5 paragraphs. This is long because it's a starter.
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The sloping ground around the Kiaurk family mesa had been sculpted into shelves or terraces, and it was on one of those upper terraces that Kiaurk Nshurr now lounged beneath a pergola anchored to the striated stone face behind her. The mesa rose at her back: an enormous, looming, almost sheer outcrop that her family's dwellings had been carved into the face of. Wide, shallow steps cut into the artificial (but entirely convincing) sandstone wound their way up between landings and porticos leading inward, between tiny balconies shaded by bright solid-colored canopies, between rooms with flat walls and rounded corners that came jutting out to shadow the steps below. Rriigkhans rarely used glass as window barriers; smooth-edged holes had been cut through the rock in varying shapes and sizes. It could be difficult to tell which apertures were windows and which were entryways. A physical barrier that kept out the elements was obsolete in all but the crudest dwellings, though some of these larger holes were curtained with braided string or strips of cloth that served a purely decorative purpose.
From her high vantage point Nshurr could see the shelves stretching out below her as the base of the mesa leveled out to flattish terrain that was a wonderland of vegetation in muted rainbow colors: mustard yellows, clay reds, earthy browns and the occasional dash of sage or dusty blue. This scrubland lay like a blanket around everything below that was not part of the village between the mesas. Down there, adobe compounds never taller than two or three storeys seemed so squat compared to the mesas that Nshurr could see towering in the distance, many of those family mesas only a few hours walk from her own if she traveled by foot. The village sprawled, with tile parkways winding in serpentine fashion between the various buildings, courtyards, parks, and ponds. There were no property lines, no clear division of the land into neat little plots owned by the individuals who lived and worked in these places. It all seemed to be part of a whole, with a single unifying aesthetic. The village housed those rriigkhans of the lower castes, the kharratah and chelhautah, and the humans which were a caste all their own, haukagh-ar, except for a small number who lived with their employers in the caverns of the mesas or up on the plateau.
This planet, Sgarrl, terraformed over three hundred years ago, was home to more humans than any other Ssaarian world – aside from Earth, of course, discovered eighty years ago. The fact that humans shared so much in common with rriigkhans made them the perfect species to incorporate into the rriigkhan caste structure. They breathed the same mix of gases and required similar gravities, and their nimble little fingers were very useful for all sorts of work.
Still, despite the weird pidgin humans had made of her language and their English, she liked the little creatures. She had come to live with her Grandmother on Sgarrl only a month ago, and had never encountered them before. The males only stood as tall as her collar. The females were shorter still, much like the males of her own species.
To human eyes Nshurr was a feline, with a muscular swimmer's body and the broad muzzle of a big cat, with watchful, forward-facing predator's eyes that seemed unexpectedly expressive, because rriikghans had almost as many muscles around their eyes as humans did around their mouths to convey the nuances of emotion. Despite being larger than even many Earth men, she was considered sleek by rriigkhan standards. She made up for that with her broader crest.
The rriigkhan crest was something like the crest of Utahceratops – a keratinized plate growing up out of the skull, except divided into three lobes instead of two, with scalloped edges along the outer rim. Unlike depictions of Utahceratops, the rriigkhan crest was not covered by skin. At least, not on the top. Thick ropy veins squiggled under velvet fur on the underside, closer to the neck. (A thick, arching neck muscular enough to support the weight of that crest meant that Rriigkhans walked with a stoop that made them seem hunchbacked, to humans.) The surface of the plate on top was often rough, even bumpy or corrugated like deer antlers in some areas, smooth in others. Every female crest had four tines jutting from the front – a pair several inches above the eyes, and another pair further up.
Nshurr's crest was wider than average, her upper tines spaced further apart, and combined with a compact face this made her look top-heavy. (A human might say that she was more snow leopard than lion.) Most female crests did not interfere with the movement of the ears – highly mobile, highly expressive paddle shaped things – but the edges of Nshurr's crest did jut out enough to almost shield them.
That her crest was weighty, that it was inconvenient, that she was often aware of it – this was Nshurr's pride. Her long tail curled happily when she caught males looking at it. Humans seemed to be intimidated by it sometimes, as if she might decide to stab them with her “horns.” She considered herself a confident person; not a braggart, but self-assured, and to carry her jhekaah so visibly pleased her to no end.
Her fur was an almost peachy off-white, but a mask of pale peach shaded each seafoam green eye. The mask blended into the white further up her forehead until fur gave way to bone-tan crest, and was split between her eyes by the white of her nose. Oblong spots in that same peachy color, each blending from dark to light, streaked down her sides.
These weren't the natural colors of her distant ancestors. It was unheard of to see a rriigkhan who was not gene-modified in some way, even if those modded genes had been part of rriigkhan life for so long that no one thought of them as mods any longer. She also thought nothing of the subtitles her augmented reality implant displayed whenever a human spoke, AI translated to help her decipher the pidgin. AR was simply a part of her, had been since she was a kit.
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OOC Information:
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For this particular prompt I imagine you'd play a human, probably a new arrival to Sgarrl but maybe someone who was born there. Even though I've set up a situation where my character would have a lot of power and yours very little, I want to clarify that I'm only looking for a mutually loving, slow burn romance.
My “type” that I'd like you to play would be an average man in the 40-60 age range, with realistic personality flaws.
I prefer partners who like to reply more than once a day. 2-3 replies per day would be ideal, but I understand life gets in the way. I usually write 2-5 paragraphs, or 150-450 words per post. This starter is much longer than my typical post length, but my lengths really vary a lot. If I'm introducing a new character or scene, my post might be 1,000 words, or it could be 100 words if our characters are in the middle of a conversation.
Please send a writing sample if you have none in your post history. No need to custom write anything for me, old samples are fine.
submitted by BigStompyCatPaws to Roleplay [link] [comments]
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The sloping ground around the Kiaurk family mesa had been sculpted into shelves or terraces, and it was on one of those upper terraces that Kiaurk Nshurr now lounged beneath a pergola anchored to the striated stone face behind her. The mesa rose at her back: an enormous, looming, almost sheer outcrop that her family's dwellings had been carved into the face of. Wide, shallow steps cut into the artificial (but entirely convincing) sandstone wound their way up between landings and porticos leading inward, between tiny balconies shaded by bright solid-colored canopies, between rooms with flat walls and rounded corners that came jutting out to shadow the steps below. Rriigkhans rarely used glass as window barriers; smooth-edged holes had been cut through the rock in varying shapes and sizes. It could be difficult to tell which apertures were windows and which were entryways. A physical barrier that kept out the elements was obsolete in all but the crudest dwellings, though some of these larger holes were curtained with braided string or strips of cloth that served a purely decorative purpose.
From her high vantage point Nshurr could see the shelves stretching out below her as the base of the mesa leveled out to flattish terrain that was a wonderland of vegetation in muted rainbow colors: mustard yellows, clay reds, earthy browns and the occasional dash of sage or dusty blue. This scrubland lay like a blanket around everything below that was not part of the village between the mesas. Down there, adobe compounds never taller than two or three storeys seemed so squat compared to the mesas that Nshurr could see towering in the distance, many of those family mesas only a few hours walk from her own if she traveled by foot. The village sprawled, with tile parkways winding in serpentine fashion between the various buildings, courtyards, parks, and ponds. There were no property lines, no clear division of the land into neat little plots owned by the individuals who lived and worked in these places. It all seemed to be part of a whole, with a single unifying aesthetic. The village housed those rriigkhans of the lower castes, the kharratah and chelhautah, and the humans which were a caste all their own, haukagh-ar, except for a small number who lived with their employers in the caverns of the mesas or up on the plateau.
This planet, Sgarrl, terraformed over three hundred years ago, was home to more humans than any other Ssaarian world – aside from Earth, of course, discovered eighty years ago. The fact that humans shared so much in common with rriigkhans made them the perfect species to incorporate into the rriigkhan caste structure. They breathed the same mix of gases and required similar gravities, and their nimble little fingers were very useful for all sorts of work.
Still, despite the weird pidgin humans had made of her language and their English, she liked the little creatures. She had come to live with her Grandmother on Sgarrl only a month ago, and had never encountered them before. The males only stood as tall as her collar. The females were shorter still, much like the males of her own species.
To human eyes Nshurr was a feline, with a muscular swimmer's body and the broad muzzle of a big cat, with watchful, forward-facing predator's eyes that seemed unexpectedly expressive, because rriikghans had almost as many muscles around their eyes as humans did around their mouths to convey the nuances of emotion. Despite being larger than even many Earth men, she was considered sleek by rriigkhan standards. She made up for that with her broader crest.
The rriigkhan crest was something like the crest of Utahceratops – a keratinized plate growing up out of the skull, except divided into three lobes instead of two, with scalloped edges along the outer rim. Unlike depictions of Utahceratops, the rriigkhan crest was not covered by skin. At least, not on the top. Thick ropy veins squiggled under velvet fur on the underside, closer to the neck. (A thick, arching neck muscular enough to support the weight of that crest meant that Rriigkhans walked with a stoop that made them seem hunchbacked, to humans.) The surface of the plate on top was often rough, even bumpy or corrugated like deer antlers in some areas, smooth in others. Every female crest had four tines jutting from the front – a pair several inches above the eyes, and another pair further up.
Nshurr's crest was wider than average, her upper tines spaced further apart, and combined with a compact face this made her look top-heavy. (A human might say that she was more snow leopard than lion.) Most female crests did not interfere with the movement of the ears – highly mobile, highly expressive paddle shaped things – but the edges of Nshurr's crest did jut out enough to almost shield them.
That her crest was weighty, that it was inconvenient, that she was often aware of it – this was Nshurr's pride. Her long tail curled happily when she caught males looking at it. Humans seemed to be intimidated by it sometimes, as if she might decide to stab them with her “horns.” She considered herself a confident person; not a braggart, but self-assured, and to carry her jhekaah so visibly pleased her to no end.
Her fur was an almost peachy off-white, but a mask of pale peach shaded each seafoam green eye. The mask blended into the white further up her forehead until fur gave way to bone-tan crest, and was split between her eyes by the white of her nose. Oblong spots in that same peachy color, each blending from dark to light, streaked down her sides.
These weren't the natural colors of her distant ancestors. It was unheard of to see a rriigkhan who was not gene-modified in some way, even if those modded genes had been part of rriigkhan life for so long that no one thought of them as mods any longer. She also thought nothing of the subtitles her augmented reality implant displayed whenever a human spoke, AI translated to help her decipher the pidgin. AR was simply a part of her, had been since she was a kit.
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OOC Information:
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For this particular prompt I imagine you'd play a human, probably a new arrival to Sgarrl but maybe someone who was born there. Even though I've set up a situation where my character would have a lot of power and yours very little, I want to clarify that I'm only looking for a mutually loving, slow burn romance.
My “type” that I'd like you to play would be an average man in the 40-60 age range, with realistic personality flaws.
I prefer partners who like to reply more than once a day. 2-3 replies per day would be ideal, but I understand life gets in the way. I usually write 2-5 paragraphs, or 150-450 words per post. This starter is much longer than my typical post length, but my lengths really vary a lot. If I'm introducing a new character or scene, my post might be 1,000 words, or it could be 100 words if our characters are in the middle of a conversation.
Please send a writing sample if you have none in your post history. No need to custom write anything for me, old samples are fine.
2024.06.09 05:28 lionblazethefrick Rant: why I often feel frustrated about North American urbanists.
 | I needed to let off some steam earlier so I wrote the following post earlier today; I intended to post it much earlier but it probably needed some revision anyways. So here is my pitch: if I could ask one question to all North American urbanists and people in NA who follow city planning, it'd be just four words. "Where is your rage?" If I was allowed to ramble for a longer period than that, it'd probably be this post. I'm sorry for the rant. submitted by lionblazethefrick to fuckcars [link] [comments] So the question is this: where is the rage for a city being torn apart by massive roads and highways that pollute it to nobody's business? Where is the rage for a city still building historically classist and systematically racist developments to this day? Where is the rage when homeless people must live between poorly maintained railroad tracks and a golf course for the wealthy? Sacramento. That's the name of a city that's brought me far too much stress recently. Sacramento's done this to no end and aims to continue doing this. The city destroyed its Japantown to build a park just for the Capitol Building. It carved through and separated its oldest part of town with a massive interstate highway. It gutted its once-robust streetcar system for three LRT lines that really don't quite cut it. These actions were often done to appeal to the car and with the wealthy in mind. Today, it aims to widen I-80, I-5, US-50, and CA-99... so you know... pretty much every fully-separated highway it has authority over. It's building new isolated single-family developments far from anything else, as are all its satellite cities and suburbs. It's torn out large swaths of natural space in the name of "flood control" (which they've failed at many times before, and residents have said has worsened since). And nearly everything that exists outside about a half square mile city center just... looks like this: El Camino Avenue @ Yorktown Avenue looking east via Google Maps To be quite frank, I'm exhausted with this place. It is lost in the 1960s with no plan to exit this hellscape that it has created. It plans on widening those highways because it indeed expects to build even more places like this - places where you have to drive just to go literally anywhere because walking is impossibly slow, difficult, and dangerous. As you can see, I'm an obnoxious winge-fest about this place because I have to live near it all. I've only just become an adult and I've got no job - here's to hoping - so I'm landed here for the foreseeable future. This is the view I see of the city. I think people don't like negativity. This makes sense, because avoiding constant negativity and hate and anger is healthy, and people who are always negative are also often very miserable. Additionally, I firmly believe that positivity towards positive actions done by cities is a vital aspect to urbanists' advocacy. When a city does something that will improve its quality of life, sustainability, and health, that should absolutely be applauded. I also know that small things matter and that small steps are required to get on the right track. And on top of that, I get that perspective changes how you view a place. I've been told that I should be grateful for living in Sacramento. After all, I have a roof over my head. I don't have to cycle 10 miles down winding midwest country roads with not even a painted bike gutter to get to the nearest grocery store. And while that is a valid perspective and I am glad for the little things about where I am vs where I could be, it's extremely hard for me to personally digest this response. I should be grateful for... this?? Yorktown Avenue @ El Camino Avenue, looking west down El Camino via Google Maps When people's reactions to my complaints about a place like this is to say "be grateful, cause it could be worse," that just shows how utterly dystopian this part of the world is. It not only doesn't console me but it makes me even more upset knowing that THIS is one of the better parts of the continent. Yes, I would rather be here than biking next to racist pro-lifers in lifted F-150s trying to rolling-coal me. I know it's a relative privilege to be able to live in a city that has some modicum of safety outside a car. But why is it I feel these folks are telling me I should be happy to live in a place like this? That modicum of safety is TINY and while Sacramento's nowhere near the worst it's still a miserable place people clearly don't care about and just hope to get out of as soon as they can. Is it a privilege to live in a fairly regular North American car pit? It's perspective that leads people to these takes, I know. Some folks are truly roughing it somewhere where they can't even afford a car and have to walk through dumps like this. But that's such a dystopian take. "Hey buddy, it only goes down from here," it says. "Those are the shining lights. Lovely, ain't they?" In my opinion, the positive aspects of a place get disproportionately more positive attention than the negative aspects get negative attention. Sacramento's a great example of this. Downtown is absolutely beautiful. Like. It's called the city of trees for a reason. K Street @ 9th looking west via Google Maps Look, there's absolutely nothing wrong with being happy about this place. I'm happy about it. I want to see more of it and I want people to show their approval for places like this. It's just that at least from my perspective it often feels like North American city planning followers will point to places like this and give them showering Urbanist Gold Credits for Doing The Good Street Thing. And again, I want to emphasize that we should amp up places like this because these are the type of places we want every place to build. But that comes with the caveat that we also do need to remember that this is the little half square mile. Like so many other cities in North America, there's this little world almost separate from the rest where it's actually really nice with lovely old streets and great transit. But that's the key, it's almost a separate world. In Sacramento, it's not immediate suburban sprawl hell the moment you step out of that little plot, but it is a place choked by highways and that place quickly deteriorates in quality the further out you go. Additionally, the price of living in downtown Sacramento - while inconsistent and volatile - is pretty hard to justify. People can easily be paying $4k for a studio, or almost worse be paying something relatively reasonable but end up in an apartment that has few or no amenities and is practically preparing to fall apart next time an earthquake hits. People shouldn't be stuck somewhere miserable or stung for something just livable. And the areas outside downtown are just. 1960s American suburban art, in the derogatory sense. If anyone's still reading this, have you watched the movie adaptation of A Wrinkle in Time? Bit of a spoiler but there's a scene where everything's been tailor-made to be identical to everything else, including people and their schedules, and it's a stereotypical American cul-de-sac suburb, and it's creepy. Yeah, tell that to Sacramento and its suburbs and they'll take it to the next level by not only making it real but making it even more devoid of life. Auburn Boulevard west of Sylvan Road, looking west via Google Maps So yes, the downtown's beautiful, but can you really still say Sacramento's all that good if most of it looks like this, and this is how most Sacramento residents actually experience the city? When I'm told I should be grateful for where I live, this is the lens through which I see it. I almost never get to see downtown. So to be honest, I can't help but look through my lens and say, no, I'm sorry, this is fucking miserable. Frankly, the thing I'm most grateful for is that I know a few things about city planning and can identify that these issues exist. So why don't I just move out? Well, let's think of some cities known for their great urbanism in North America. Vancouver! Vancouver's pretty great, it's beautiful, it's in Canada so free healthcare - oh my, the median rent's $2,950 per month. Toronto! Toronto's not quite in the northeast, but it is close and that area's known for its urbanism and great city pla- $2,650 per month. So Canada's a bit of a no-go... how about New York City? I hear it's hands down the best city in North America. Oh wait, that's right, the rent's infamous for being like $10,000 for a tiny little box. And that's the main issue. There are some places with incredible urbanism but to be brutally honest, they're still so fucking unlivable due to the cost of rent alone. I mean, it's San Francisco everywhere! Remember also that I have no money of my own, so it's not like I can just book a one-way to Chicago. Let me be a bit aggressive for a moment. "Just move out" is one of the laziest, most privilege-lensed, fucked up responses possible. So, I should advocate, then, right? But with what platform? Nobody's gonna listen to this random singular person who whines about stroads. And it's also a time and energy investment that brings you right into the heart of the firey pits of American politics. Look, I'm just one person and while I'm sure they're there I've never met anyone else who is as open about the city's planning nightmare. Hell, how long's CAHSR taking even with advocates in favor? One of my biggest frustrations is that I always feel like I have absolutely no power in this country. My voice is unheard by everyone but a little group of friends. Honestly, for me, it'd almost be easier to move out, because as far as the government in charge is concerned, I simply don't exist. Telling me to "just advocate" completely misses that advocacy only works if people are willing to listen, and frankly, nobody who can do anything about it is. Let me talk for a minute about "the northeast and Chicago problem". What's this? Well, it's when North American urbanists champion the same small set of cities that happen to have a pretty significant positive background with city planning already. NYC, DC, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, the Twin Cities. Look, these cities are wonderful, but most of them are in the wealthiest subset of North America where a massive portion of the continent's economic wealth is concentrated. I get the vibe that people think these places are representative of the whole country. They aren't. The suburbs of Sacramento are a way more accurate depiction of what it's like to live in the United States or Canada. And so I continue feeling my anger towards them. Look, there's an entire section of interstate that totally flouts the interstate regulations because a town in Pennsylvania didn't want their car tourism to dip. This story of "please don't remove the cars, we'll lose our tourism" is almost (not quite, but almost) exclusively North American. The places worse than Sacramento only make me even angrier, because the way the people in power have configured them has created a nightmarish dystopia machine. I like Chicago and I respect the northeast because these places are truly the royalty of North American city planning for a lot of people and a lot of reasons. But they only represent a tiny bit of the region and most people don't have the privilege of living in these places. Yes, the whole NJB "give up on America" thing very clearly came from a place of privilege and was kinda nuts, but the whole "just move to Philly" thing is almost on the same tier and I'm just so tired of it. The worst part? There are just so many things about even Chicago and NYC that scream "gutted for the car" or some other issue like financial deficit or historical racism. An entire black neighborhood was bulldozed to put Central Park in NYC and the city barely even acknowledges it. What about the BQE? That tore New York's neighborhood apart and the city still pays for it dearly. Hudson River Greenway by the World Trade Center, NYC, looking south. A lot of even New York City is still absolutely bleeding for the mistakes made for the car. Congestion, massive stroads through the urban core, highways cutting off every waterfront. And this is NEW YORK CITY. There's a lot to love about a lot of places in North America. A lot of places have something that is genuinely very charming about them. I personally love the neighborhood of Fremont in Seattle for its unapologetic weirdness - they even have a statue of Lenin that someone mortgaged their house to bring to Seattle. I can also see the charm in New Orleans's historic cultural prowess and lovely canals that crisscross some of the city. And Sacramento has its lovely street trees. There is lots of charm to be found in even the most roughed-up places. However, that just makes it so much sadder that these places have been almost buried in cars. I just can't help but see so much waste, shattered potential, and destroyed city fabric in these places. Why are we still gladly erasing the charm of a bizarrely imported statue or a culture scene so big they name things after and make art all about the city that created it with flavorless stroads with no sidewalks and Camazotzian dystopia cul-de-sacs? Where is the rage for the people whose houses get bulldozed to cram another lane in? Looking west down New Orleans's Madrid Street, between Arts and Music Streets, via Google Maps. I want to see positivity. But I also want to see what places are actually like, and to be honest, even in places known for something truly charming and powerful, the place that once may have been isn't there anymore. I personally think that just because there's something that is generally appealing about a place, doesn't mean it's a good place. Just because Sacramento has a nice downtown does not mean I should hold back my thoughts about the new single-family exurbs going up left and right. Just because New Orleans is historic, doesn't mean I'm going to see the appeal given a lens into what the city's actually like. If a city is underrated and financially struggling, it's more fuel on the fire against car infrastructure. When Sacramento pours billions into highway widening projects, they're pouring that financial investment down the drain. These decisions are made at best carelessly and at worst still with the intent to make the rich richer, and I will continue to be upset at places like Sacramento for said decisions. All people deserve better. People shouldn't have to bike 10 miles without any protection to get to a store. People shouldn't have to rely on depreciating assets to get anything done in their lives. People should be able to enjoy a beautiful urban core without having to return home to a rundown apartment next to a highway and a stroad. People deserve to be able to afford mixed-use developments. People deserve not to be kicked out of a place they may already be struggling to pay for just so a polluting, wasteful highway can be blasted right on through their home. People deserve not to suffer for the continued systemic racism and classism of the current, outdated city planning standards still followed by a wide majority of North America. This way of doing things is wrong. So, I will ask just once more. North America: where is your rage? Thank you if you're still tolerating my whining and rambling. I hope you can understand my frustration and perspective. I want to make really clear that I know North America isn't totally silent about this. There are lots of small towns and great groups working to improve on the mistakes that haunt us from the 1960s. But I get very jaded and frustrated so often and I just needed to let this out or I'd itch for eternity. Please feel free to tell of your perspective because perspective matters. And remember: we all want the same thing. We want the domination of the car to end. This is not my main account -- I will be watching on this post as u/thatsalice. Thanks for your time! |
2024.06.09 05:03 alethiomancy [F4A] Long Term Atmospheric and Lore Heavy Fantasy/Romance
Hi there! I am desperately searching for more long term partners to roleplay with this summer. I have a few plot bunnies and pairings/moods already listed below, but if you have an idea send it my way! I’m down for almost anything.
*Me: * - 25+ F - 10+ years of roleplaying under my belt. - Looking for M/F and F// (M// is okay and appreciated for side characters and NPCs, though!) - I can write as little as a couple of paragraphs and as much as multiple pages depending on the situation. I will likely match your pace. - Third person past or present tense. - Active daily unless traveling. - Discord RP only please. - I usually main female and nonbinary characters, but I do like to play males as side characters and doubles. - OOC chatter. I like to plot a lot in OOC, share Pinterest boards and playlists, gush about our OCs and occasionally chat about life. - Plot comes first, but I definitely prefer to have some romance involved. Bonus points if there is slow burn/mutual pining/enemies to lovers/bad people making each other better (…or worse). All those fun tropes.
*You: * - 20+ - Interested in atmospheric, lore heavy world building. - Also down for a good laugh. I love the gritty stuff just as much as I love a good beach episode. - Semi-Lit to Literate. 2+ paragraphs, decent grammar, and give me something to respond to each post, not just responding to my character’s actions. - Willing to play side characters and NPCs - Can post every 1-3 days. Once a week if we are writing advanced lit. (If you can post multiple times a day on some days I will love you forever, but I know everyone has a life). - If you need to ditch for life/boredom/ other reasons that’s okay. Just let me know so I’m not waiting for a response. - The same goes for hiatus. If you need to take a break it’s cool, but if you wanna stay friends even better. I still love to talk, even if we’re not actively roleplaying on a daily basis.
craving* Bold = my character
Plot Bunnies: - The Hero You Created: A supervillain’s apprentice fakes her own death and moves to a city halfway across the world to become a hero. Years later, the Villain shows up in her new city and recognizes his former assistant in her new role.** - Gods and monsters: A world where gods make champions out of people, giving them powers and making them fight for influence. Gods open up dungeons (pockets in time-space) as arenas where champions compete in challenges based on the gods’ natures. My character is a champion who is trying to get stronger so she can ascend to the god realm and get revenge on a god that killed her sister. Your character is literally anyone you want. Demigods/other champions/anti-champions/cult leaders. Come build this world with me. ******** if you do this plot with me I will do anything you ask. Forever. - Ghost Adventures: A skeptic who is a ghost hunter by trade moves into a house and meets an actual bona-fide ghost. They must work together to set the ghost free. Alternatively, there is no mystery and they just go around solving other peoples’ mysteries. Or both. - Soulmates: A princess of dubious heritage forms a connection with an assassin who is targeting her. She finds them awfully familiar and for some reason they can’t find it in them to end her. - The King’s Maker: A faerie prince tricks a talented changeling into pretending to be a prophet for him. They go on a journey across Faerie to overthrow his father, the Faerie king. Along the way, they build a cult following. (Can be well-known faerie lore, but I have some Balkan inspired lore for this if you are interested) - Train: A human and some sort of supernatural train conductor (vampire, werewolf, fae, let your imagination run wild) investigate a string of attacks along a continental train route. They pretend to be a young, newly married couple to draw out the culprit, who is believed to be targeting young newly wedded women.
Pairings and word bank: - Witch x Demon - Witch x Witch Hunter* (message about plot for this) - Offering x Demon/God/Dragon/etc. - Reincarnated x Tyrant/Duke of the north/whoever (Bonus points if we can do doubles and play a “best friends/sisters/etc” get reincarnated together plot)* - Hero x Villain - Vampires - Various regional gothics - Mythology - Fake dating - Arranged marriage/contracts - Dragons - Cults - Cryptids - 70’s/80’s/90’s aesthetic - Retro-futurism - Solarpunk
This is getting long, so shoot me a DM if you don’t see a plot or pairing that you’re interested in playing and we can chat about it.
submitted by alethiomancy to RoleplayPartnerSearch [link] [comments]
*Me: * - 25+ F - 10+ years of roleplaying under my belt. - Looking for M/F and F// (M// is okay and appreciated for side characters and NPCs, though!) - I can write as little as a couple of paragraphs and as much as multiple pages depending on the situation. I will likely match your pace. - Third person past or present tense. - Active daily unless traveling. - Discord RP only please. - I usually main female and nonbinary characters, but I do like to play males as side characters and doubles. - OOC chatter. I like to plot a lot in OOC, share Pinterest boards and playlists, gush about our OCs and occasionally chat about life. - Plot comes first, but I definitely prefer to have some romance involved. Bonus points if there is slow burn/mutual pining/enemies to lovers/bad people making each other better (…or worse). All those fun tropes.
*You: * - 20+ - Interested in atmospheric, lore heavy world building. - Also down for a good laugh. I love the gritty stuff just as much as I love a good beach episode. - Semi-Lit to Literate. 2+ paragraphs, decent grammar, and give me something to respond to each post, not just responding to my character’s actions. - Willing to play side characters and NPCs - Can post every 1-3 days. Once a week if we are writing advanced lit. (If you can post multiple times a day on some days I will love you forever, but I know everyone has a life). - If you need to ditch for life/boredom/ other reasons that’s okay. Just let me know so I’m not waiting for a response. - The same goes for hiatus. If you need to take a break it’s cool, but if you wanna stay friends even better. I still love to talk, even if we’re not actively roleplaying on a daily basis.
craving* Bold = my character
Plot Bunnies: - The Hero You Created: A supervillain’s apprentice fakes her own death and moves to a city halfway across the world to become a hero. Years later, the Villain shows up in her new city and recognizes his former assistant in her new role.** - Gods and monsters: A world where gods make champions out of people, giving them powers and making them fight for influence. Gods open up dungeons (pockets in time-space) as arenas where champions compete in challenges based on the gods’ natures. My character is a champion who is trying to get stronger so she can ascend to the god realm and get revenge on a god that killed her sister. Your character is literally anyone you want. Demigods/other champions/anti-champions/cult leaders. Come build this world with me. ******** if you do this plot with me I will do anything you ask. Forever. - Ghost Adventures: A skeptic who is a ghost hunter by trade moves into a house and meets an actual bona-fide ghost. They must work together to set the ghost free. Alternatively, there is no mystery and they just go around solving other peoples’ mysteries. Or both. - Soulmates: A princess of dubious heritage forms a connection with an assassin who is targeting her. She finds them awfully familiar and for some reason they can’t find it in them to end her. - The King’s Maker: A faerie prince tricks a talented changeling into pretending to be a prophet for him. They go on a journey across Faerie to overthrow his father, the Faerie king. Along the way, they build a cult following. (Can be well-known faerie lore, but I have some Balkan inspired lore for this if you are interested) - Train: A human and some sort of supernatural train conductor (vampire, werewolf, fae, let your imagination run wild) investigate a string of attacks along a continental train route. They pretend to be a young, newly married couple to draw out the culprit, who is believed to be targeting young newly wedded women.
Pairings and word bank: - Witch x Demon - Witch x Witch Hunter* (message about plot for this) - Offering x Demon/God/Dragon/etc. - Reincarnated x Tyrant/Duke of the north/whoever (Bonus points if we can do doubles and play a “best friends/sisters/etc” get reincarnated together plot)* - Hero x Villain - Vampires - Various regional gothics - Mythology - Fake dating - Arranged marriage/contracts - Dragons - Cults - Cryptids - 70’s/80’s/90’s aesthetic - Retro-futurism - Solarpunk
This is getting long, so shoot me a DM if you don’t see a plot or pairing that you’re interested in playing and we can chat about it.
2024.06.09 04:48 Leon1w3 [M4A] Pokémon rp! Hoping to find someone willing to be 3 pokemon!
Hi there! Names Leon, 22yo, and I'm here to beg someone to roleplay as 3 specific pokemon! A female Zoroark, male Lucario, and female Mewtwo. Why these characters specifically? Well, I had a roleplay with someone that lasted 7 months! It really is a bummer to be ghosted all of a sudden.
Anyhoo, what I was hoping for, is for someone to be the exact personality of these three! I will briefly explain the personality of each in pms, im practically BEGGING to find someone!! This roleplay was something i couldn't let go, and I'm not asking for it to be resumed but at least restarted and end and not just end with ghosting. Anyways, onto the plot!
A 16 year old boy, Gael (my oc, who will be aged up later) had been sitting in his apartment calmly with his partners, Lucario and Zoroark. Until, they had gotten a call from Gaels father, who was an extremely evil father, and probably the worst human being of today, to come to his facility. They had never been to his facility before...but now they were on their way, ready to meet Gaels father once more...and that's where we would begin!!
Short explanation of the plot, I know, but give it a chance!! Things will escalate quickly!!! And you might be wondering where Mewtwo comes in all this? Well they meet her there since she's a part of the facility. I'm HOPING you're all interested, down to my last hope basically! My time is MST, I write multiple paragraphs, and I have pretty active replies everyday. Hope to see you all! And if you need me to explain more details in pms, please don't be afraid to ask.
submitted by Leon1w3 to roleplaying [link] [comments]
Anyhoo, what I was hoping for, is for someone to be the exact personality of these three! I will briefly explain the personality of each in pms, im practically BEGGING to find someone!! This roleplay was something i couldn't let go, and I'm not asking for it to be resumed but at least restarted and end and not just end with ghosting. Anyways, onto the plot!
A 16 year old boy, Gael (my oc, who will be aged up later) had been sitting in his apartment calmly with his partners, Lucario and Zoroark. Until, they had gotten a call from Gaels father, who was an extremely evil father, and probably the worst human being of today, to come to his facility. They had never been to his facility before...but now they were on their way, ready to meet Gaels father once more...and that's where we would begin!!
Short explanation of the plot, I know, but give it a chance!! Things will escalate quickly!!! And you might be wondering where Mewtwo comes in all this? Well they meet her there since she's a part of the facility. I'm HOPING you're all interested, down to my last hope basically! My time is MST, I write multiple paragraphs, and I have pretty active replies everyday. Hope to see you all! And if you need me to explain more details in pms, please don't be afraid to ask.
2024.06.09 04:46 Count-Daring243 Best Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake
 | submitted by Count-Daring243 to u/Count-Daring243 [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/f702lbcrlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b1c797aeffe45450d0931bdb57e7b3309436f9dd Are you on the hunt for a protein shake that delivers not just on taste but also on nutritional value? Look no further! Our Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake review has got you covered. We've gathered all the details you need to make an informed choice about this popular product. From its innovative ingredients to its delightful flavors, it's all here in our comprehensive review. So, sit back, relax, and let's dive in! In this article, we'll explore the Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake. We'll delve into its key features, discuss its benefits, and provide a detailed analysis of its taste and texture. Additionally, we'll compare it with other popular protein shakes available in the market. By the end of this read, you'll have a clear understanding of whether the Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake is the perfect fit for your fitness journey. The Top 17 Best Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake
Reviews🔗Fairlife High Protein Chocolate Nutrition Shake: A Satisfying and Nutritious Meal Replacementhttps://preview.redd.it/gdaxj3vrlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ce5691cee378ef75fb53e31e352ee6018f171d60 I've been using Fairlife's High Protein Chocolate Nutrition Shake, and I must say, it's been a game-changer for me. As someone who is always on the go, finding a convenient way to get the nutrients I need in a satisfying shake has been quite a challenge. But with this shake, I've finally found something that delivers on taste, texture, and nutrition. The chocolate flavor is spot-on, not too sweet or overly artificial. It truly tastes like a chocolate milkshake, but without all the sugar and calories. The texture is also impressive, with a smooth and creamy consistency that blends perfectly with both ice and other ingredients. Another highlight is its mixability, which makes it really easy to incorporate into smoothies or other recipes. However, there's one downside I have to mention - the small amount of residue that sometimes accumulates under the lid. It's not a deal-breaker for me, but it can be a bit off-putting at first. Overall, I highly recommend Fairlife's High Protein Chocolate Nutrition Shake for anyone looking for a delicious and nutritious way to replace a meal or supplement their diet with extra protein. It's a convenient and satisfying way to fuel your body and achieve your health goals. 🔗High Protein Vanilla Shakehttps://preview.redd.it/c6b8a8cslg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=cef8bdb70406f9fa50e868e877e2d92c9a40e951 I have to say, my experience with Core Power Vanilla Protein Shake has been a game-changer for my post-workout recovery. I usually struggle to consume enough protein to help repair and build muscle mass, but these shake bottles have made it so much easier. The first time I tried Core Power, I was instantly drawn to the smooth and creamy vanilla flavor. It was like a milkshake but with an extra kick of protein. The best part is that each shake bottle contains only 5g sugar and 170 calories, making it a guilt-free choice. Its high quality protein from ultra-filtered milk is another highlight for me. I know I'm refueling and rebuilding after my intense workouts with every sip. And while I enjoy the convenience of all nine essential amino acids, calcium, and vitamin D3, I also appreciate that it's lactose and gluten-free. However, I must note that the shake can be quite thick to drink directly from the bottle. But that's not a deal-breaker for me since the taste and benefits vastly outweigh this minor inconvenience. If you're looking for a delicious and nutritious way to boost your protein intake, I would highly recommend giving Core Power a try. 🔗Fairlife Core Power High Protein Milk Shakehttps://preview.redd.it/60bgk9vslg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=8b19b6fb581e95e70083c9885086a3c0abc518a8 As a fitness enthusiast, I was super excited to try out this Fairlife Core Power High Protein Milk Shake in Vanilla flavor. I usually consume protein shakes during my post-workout sessions to aid recovery and muscle building. This shake has quickly become my go-to option. The taste is incredibly delicious - it's creamy, smooth, and reminds me of a melted vanilla ice cream. The highlight for me is its high protein content, making it perfect for muscle recovery and repair. It also has a good balance of carbs and fats, which is great for maintaining energy levels during intense workout sessions. One aspect that sets this shake apart from others is its lactose-free and gluten-free nature. This is a game-changer for people with lactose intolerance who still want to enjoy the benefits of a protein shake. Additionally, it doesn't have any artificial sweeteners, which is a big plus in my book. As for the cons, I wish there were more variety in flavors available. Vanilla is great, but sometimes I crave something different. Also, the shake is a bit heavy on the fats side. However, these are minor drawbacks considering the overall quality and taste of the shake. In conclusion, Fairlife Core Power High Protein Milk Shake in Vanilla flavor is a fantastic post-workout drink. Its high protein content, lactose-free nature, and absence of artificial sweeteners make it a superior choice among other protein shakes on the market. 🔗Fairlife Vanilla High Protein Milk Shakehttps://preview.redd.it/txrd4mftlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=0f6285f5ba8993d8bed8f414a5d5c760ca84f475 As a fitness enthusiast, I'm always on the hunt for high-protein, nutrient-dense options to fuel my workout sessions. I recently got my hands on the Core Power Milk Shake in Vanilla and it's been a game-changer for me. Every morning, I kick off my day with this shake and feel energized throughout my workout. This liquid gold isn't just about taste, though that's definitely a highlight. It also packs a serious protein punch and even gives your bones a boost with all that calcium. What sets this milkshake apart from others is its unique filtration process. Core Power uses high-quality milk from their farms and runs it through a unique filtration system that separates out the good stuff like proteins and calcium while ditching the sugar. What you're left with is something that tastes like a treat but acts like a nutritional powerhouse. The liquid format is another big plus. It's convenient, especially when I'm rushing out the door or need something quick post-workout. Plus, it feels much gentler on my stomach as lactose-intolerant person. However, it might not be everyone's cup of tea due to its high price point. Additionally, if you're not a fan of the shake's unique taste, it might take some getting used to. Despite these minor cons, I personally wouldn't trade my Core Power Milk Shake for anything else in my fitness routine. 🔗Fairlife Core Power 26g Protein Shake Variety Packhttps://preview.redd.it/o9r83y3ulg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6f0e14a74683a43c024796489943a255ed31de9a As a fitness enthusiast, I was excited to try out Core Power by Fairlife. I've always struggled with finding protein shakes that not only taste good but also provide the nutrients I need after a tough workout. This 3 Flavor Variety Pack, including Chocolate, Strawberry Banana, and Vanilla, has been a game-changer for me! Made from Fairlife ultra-filtered milk, it's lactose and gluten-free, which is a big plus for those with dietary restrictions. One thing that really stood out was the 26g of high-quality complete protein in each bottle. It has all the essential amino acids, calcium, and vitamin D3 I need for optimal recovery. The flavors are rich and smooth, making them a delicious treat instead of a bland necessity. Plus, they're shelf-stable, so I can easily stash them in my gym bag for post-workout refreshment. On the downside, these protein shakes are a bit pricier than some of the other options out there. Additionally, some users might prefer a wider variety of flavors. However, for me, the Core Power by Fairlife High Protein Shake has been a fantastic addition to my workout routine, providing the perfect balance of taste, nutrition, and convenience. 🔗Fairlife Nutrition Plan 30g Chocolate Protein Shake (18 x 11.5 fl oz)https://preview.redd.it/ktvh68qulg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c7af71d6d9aa4b8173f8cca49faf8f83a229ed6a I recently picked up Fairlife Nutrition Plan 30g Chocolate Protein Shakes to help support my fitness goals. These shakes are not only delicious but also packed with 30g of high-quality protein per serving, made from Fairlife ultra-filtered milk. It's great to see a product that's both lactose-free and gluten-free, making it accessible to many people. One thing I love about these shakes is their convenience. The 18 x 11.5 fl oz bottles are perfect for on-the-go, and they're also shelf-stable, which means they're great for storing in my pantry. But perhaps my favorite trait of these shakes is their taste – the chocolate flavor is rich and satisfying, making it a pleasure to drink after a workout or whenever I need a protein boost. While I have been extremely happy with my Fairlife Nutrition Plan Chocolate Protein Shakes, there are a few minor cons to consider. First, they can be a bit pricy compared to other protein shakes on the market. Additionally, I've noticed that some users may experience a mild lactose-free aftertaste, which might not appeal to everyone. Overall, the Fairlife Nutrition Plan 30g Chocolate Protein Shakes have been a game-changer for me. Not only do they provide a convenient and delicious way to get my protein in, but they also help me stay on track with my fitness goals. If you're looking for a high-quality protein shake that's free from lactose and gluten, I highly recommend giving these shakes a try. 🔗High Protein Milk Shake with 26g Protein, 3 Flavor Variety Packhttps://preview.redd.it/jnsw7kcvlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fb60317d3dc8d4a3eb02ba68f948e5c942d09626 I recently introduced Core Power by Fairlife into my daily workout routine, and I must admit, this protein shake has been a game-changer for me. Packed with a whopping 26g of protein, it's no wonder I feel like I'm bouncing back from my workouts more efficiently than ever before. One of my favorite aspects of Core Power is the variety it offers. The 3 Flavor Variety Pack is perfect for those days when I'm craving something different but still want to maintain my high-protein diet. The Chocolate, Strawberry Banana, and Vanilla flavors are all delicious and make for a nice treat after a tough session at the gym. Another highlight for me is that Core Power is made with ultra-filtered, lactose-free milk. As someone who is lactose intolerant, finding a protein shake that doesn't make me feel bloated or uncomfortable has been a real challenge. But with Core Power, I can enjoy all the benefits of a protein shake without any of the unpleasant side effects. However, one downside to Core Power is its relatively high price point. At $2.50 per bottle, it can be quite expensive to incorporate into your daily routine, especially if you're like me and have a few protein shakes a day. Overall, I've had a great experience with Core Power and feel like it's definitely made a positive impact on my workout recovery. The high protein content and delicious flavors make it a great addition to any fitness enthusiast's diet. Just be prepared to shell out a bit more for this premium product. 🔗Fairlife Core Power Protein Milk Shake, Chocolate, 26g Proteinhttps://preview.redd.it/rq8deyqvlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=16787124fb0f3a31edd8009f7b05001763064a21 As a fitness enthusiast, I always look for post-workout recovery drinks that not only taste good but also provide all the essential nutrients my body needs. That's why I was excited to try Fairlife Core Power High Protein Milk Shake, and let me tell you, it did not disappoint! The first thing that stood out to me about this shake was its natural chocolate flavor. It tasted like a rich, creamy chocolate milkshake, but without all the sugar and artificial ingredients. I found myself craving it after every workout, which made staying consistent with my fitness routine so much easier. Not only does Fairlife Core Power taste great, but it also packs a powerful punch of protein. Each shake contains 26 grams of high-quality complete protein, which helps build lean muscle and support healthy workout recovery. Plus, it's lactose-free and gluten-free, making it a suitable choice for people with allergies or dietary restrictions. The only downside I found was the relatively high price point compared to other protein shakes on the market. However, considering the quality of ingredients and the delicious taste, I believe it's worth investing in if you're serious about your fitness goals. In summary, Fairlife Core Power High Protein Milk Shake is an excellent choice for anyone looking to fuel their body with a post-workout recovery drink that tastes great and delivers all the essential nutrients needed for optimal recovery and muscle growth. 🔗Fairlife Recover Core Protein Shake, Chocolate Flavorhttps://preview.redd.it/75a0o47wlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5d52b2d903d3646dd3c2a5ce2064a5a299c0e69b As a fitness enthusiast, I have been searching for a protein shake that not only tastes great but also provides me with the essential nutrients I need post-workout. That's when I came across Fairlife Recover Core Power High Protein Shake in Chocolate flavor. This 14 fl oz bottle is available in a 10-pack, perfect for my daily workout routine. Upon my first sip of the chocolate milkshake, I was pleasantly surprised by how delicious it tasted. The chocolate flavor was rich and creamy, making it a real treat after a demanding workout session. What's even better is that the milkshakes are lactose-free, gluten-free, and kosher, making them suitable for a wide range of dietary preferences. Fairlife's commitment to providing high-quality dairy products is evident in their Recover Core High Protein Shake. After consuming one of these milkshakes after my workout, I noticed a significant improvement in my recovery time. The high protein content and added electrolytes have been instrumental in helping me repair and rebuild my muscles, while the balanced blend of carbohydrates and fats provides me with the energy I need to power through my day. However, there are a few minor drawbacks to the Fairlife Recover Core High Protein Shake. Firstly, the milkshakes need to be refrigerated after opening, which can be a bit inconvenient if you're on-the-go. Secondly, some users may find the price point a little steep compared to other protein shake options in the market. Overall, I am extremely satisfied with the Fairlife Recover Core High Protein Shake. The delicious chocolate flavor, combined with its high protein content and added electrolytes, has made it a staple in my daily workout routine. While there are some minor inconveniences, such as the need to refrigerate after opening and the price point, the benefits greatly outweigh the disadvantages. I would highly recommend Fairlife's Recover Core High Protein Shake to anyone looking to enhance their post-workout recovery while enjoying a delicious chocolate milkshake. 🔗Fairlife Core Power Elite Chocolate Protein Shake, 14 Fl. Oz (Pack of 10)https://preview.redd.it/hx0t2mmwlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=0d25490928105a20162b15a26da3ec31b75d644a I remember the day I first tried Core Power Elite Chocolate Protein Shake. It was after a particularly intense workout session and I was looking for something to help me recover and rebuild. I've always been a fan of chocolate anything, so when I saw this shake, I knew I had to give it a shot. Immediately upon taking my first sip, I was blown away by the creamy chocolate taste. It wasn't too sweet or artificial, but just the right amount of sweetness to satisfy my cravings. As I continued to drink, I noticed how smooth and light the shake was. I didn't feel weighed down or bloated after finishing it, which is always a plus. One of the features that stood out the most to me was the amount of protein packed into each shake - an impressive 42g! I knew this would be perfect for helping me recover and build muscle after my workouts. Additionally, the inclusion of electrolytes helped me rehydrate quickly and get back to feeling my best. Another aspect of Core Power Elite that I really appreciated was its convenience. The resealable and portable bottles made it easy for me to take my shake with me wherever I went, whether it was to the gym or on a hike. And since this pack comes with ten 14-ounce bottles, I had plenty to last me through several workout sessions. However, there was one downside that I noticed. The shelf-stable aspect of the shake meant that it had to be refrigerated after opening. While this wasn't a big deal for me since I usually finished the entire bottle in one sitting, it could be inconvenient for some people who prefer to enjoy their shakes slowly over time. Overall, I've been extremely happy with my experience using Core Power Elite Chocolate Protein Shake. Its delicious taste, high protein content, and added electrolytes make it an excellent choice for anyone looking to recover from their workouts quickly and efficiently. While the refrigeration requirement post-opening may be a slight inconvenience, it's definitely worth considering if you're in the market for a high-quality protein shake. Give Core Power a try and see how it can help you recover and build muscle like never before! 🔗Fairlife Core Power Elite Strawberry High Protein Shakehttps://preview.redd.it/c1x5y19xlg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=608921b045fd2eac86a6e018435826a5e1dc939e I've been using Fairlife's Core Power Elite Strawberry High Protein Shake for a while now, and I must say, I'm quite impressed with this product. Every time I grab a bottle after a workout, it gives me a protein boost that I can actually taste and enjoy. The Strawberry flavor is sweet, smooth, and incredibly satisfying. It's not just about the taste, though; this shake packs a serious punch with 42g of high-quality protein to help repair and rebuild my muscles post-workout. One thing that sets Core Power apart from other protein shakes I've tried is the use of ultra-filtered milk, which not only delivers a creamy texture but also ensures that it's free of lactose. As someone who has had their fair share of milk-related tummy troubles, this is a game-changer for me. The packaging is also convenient and easy to use, with a leak-proof, resealable bottle that's perfect for on-the-go sipping. Now, let's talk about the pros and cons. The obvious pro is the high protein content, which has made a significant difference in my recovery post-workout. I've also been delighted by the Strawberry flavor, which is both tasty and refreshing. On the downside, I've noticed that the shake can be a little messy to chug right from the bottle, so I sometimes mix it with a little ice or pour it into a glass. Overall, though, Core Power Elite Strawberry has become a staple in my workout routine, and I'm happy to recommend it to anyone in search of a high-quality, delicious protein shake. Buyer's GuideFairlife Core Power Protein Shakes are designed to provide athletes and fitness enthusiasts with a convenient way to consume high-quality protein. These shakes come in various flavors and can be a part of your daily workout routine. This buyer's guide will help you understand the key features, considerations, and general advice about choosing the best Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes for your needs.Important Featureshttps://preview.redd.it/ycbu4f80mg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=892ba61371e184ef20571dad0fbae878eee1bae5
Considerations
Buying Advice
https://preview.redd.it/vwikrfr0mg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=be288918631c1220d6648f3803e12e8fc086182d ConclusionFairlife Core Power Protein Shakes are a convenient and efficient way to incorporate high-quality protein into your workout routine. By considering the important features, product considerations, and general advice provided in this guide, you will be well-equipped to make an informed choice and select the best Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes for your needs.FAQWhat is Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake?https://preview.redd.it/o10bz181mg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=44099ad3738c05c811c11f48dd08dc7727f549fe Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake is a nutritionally balance protein shake that provides essential nutrients to help fuel your workout and aid recovery. It contains high-quality milk protein, essential vitamins, and minerals to support muscle growth and recovery. How many calories are in a Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake?A Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake usually contains around 320 calories per serving, depending on the flavor. This amount may vary slightly between flavors, so it's best to check the nutrition label for the specific product you're interested in.What flavors are available for Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes?Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes are available in several flavors, including Chocolate, Vanilla, Cookies & Cream, and Strawberries & Cream. Some stores may carry limited edition or seasonal flavors as well. https://preview.redd.it/4rpvhyn1mg5d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fa1aaee0f31e0967f7b0f90b84648cc4a882dd4f How much protein is in a Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake?Each Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake contains 30-32 grams of protein per serving, depending on the flavor. This protein comes primarily from milk protein, which is a high-quality source of essential amino acids.Are Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes suitable for people with lactose intolerance?Yes, Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes are suitable for people with lactose intolerance. The milk used in these shakes undergoes a unique filtration process that removes most of the lactose, making it more digestible and easier to tolerate.How much sugar is in a Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake?The sugar content in Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes varies depending on the flavor. Generally, each shake contains around 25 grams of sugar per serving. However, some flavors may have slightly more or less sugar. It's best to check the nutrition label for the specific product you're interested in.Where can I purchase Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes?Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes can typically be found at most grocery stores, health food stores, and online retailers. Some popular stores that carry these shakes include Whole Foods, Target, Amazon, and Walmart.How long do Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes last after opening?After opening a Fairlife Core Power Protein Shake, it's generally recommended to consume it within 24 hours for optimal freshness and flavor. However, it can be kept in the refrigerator for up to 2-3 days if necessary.Do Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes contain any artificial sweeteners or flavors?No, Fairlife Core Power Protein Shakes do not contain any artificial sweeteners or flavors. They are sweetened with natural sugars and flavored with real ingredients to provide a delicious taste without the use of artificial additives.As an Amazon™ Associate, we earn from qualifying purchases. |
2024.06.09 04:14 Krinji_ [SF] [HR] Neon Hell: Sigils of Nyx
In 2157, Nyx was a neon hellscape, its skyline a twisted jungle of jagged spires clawing at the sky. The circuits running through the city had morphed into something sinister, interwoven like demonic sigils straight outta an occult nightmare. Crimson and gold lines pulsed under the streets, across buildings, and even under the skin of the city's bio-enhanced residents.
Walking through Nyx was like traversing a techno-ritual. The sidewalks glowed with serpentine patterns that slithered and coiled, whispering ancient curses in an electric hum. The city’s infrastructure was an eerie mosaic of glowing symbols, each more intricate and unsettling than the last, like the walls were alive and breathing dark magic.
The people were marked too, their bodies branded with glowing tattoos that mirrored the city's malevolent circuitry. These marks pulsed with every heartbeat, connecting them to the dark energy flowing through Nyx. It was like living in a constant state of possession, their very essence intertwined with the city’s sinister power grid.
At the heart of this digital dystopia stood the Nexus, a monstrous structure adorned with the most elaborate of these demonic sigils. Its light was a baleful beacon, casting a ghastly glow that seeped into every crevice of Nyx. The circuits, like chains of the damned, bound the city in a never-ending twilight, blurring the line between cutting-edge tech and dark sorcery.
Elara, a rogue hacker, roamed the underbelly of Nyx, her eyes tracing the eerie patterns that etched themselves into every facet of the city. The sigils were everywhere, a constant reminder of the dark pact that powered this place. She had heard whispers of a way to disrupt the Nexus, to sever the city’s unholy ties to its technological overlords.
Her journey led her deep into the forgotten archives of Nyx, a labyrinthine network of data and code buried beneath layers of secrecy. Here, the air was thick with the hum of ancient servers, their circuits glowing with a dull, malevolent light. Each step she took resonated with the city’s dark heartbeat, the sigils on the walls pulsating in time with her own.
She found the script hidden in the depths of the digital abyss. It was an ancient code, a relic from a time before the circuits had taken on their sinister form. The script spoke of a reset, a way to dismantle the Nexus and return Nyx to its organic roots. But it came with a price—a life force was needed to sever the cursed circuits.
Elara hesitated, her finger hovering over the execution command. The sigils on her skin burned brighter, resonating with the energy of the ancient script. With a final, decisive breath, she initiated the sequence. Her body convulsed as the demonic circuits blazed with a ferocious light, the sigils seeming to scream in defiance.
The city flickered, the glow of the circuits dimming but never extinguishing. The baleful light of the Nexus sputtered, but then surged back, even more intense than before. Nyx seemed to groan under the weight of its dark enchantment, the sigils carving deeper into its very bones.
Elara's sacrifice had only fed the city’s malevolent core. The circuits, now fueled by her life force, glowed with a newfound intensity, binding Nyx even tighter in its demonic grip. The darkness thickened, the oppressive aura of the city deepening.
The people of Nyx, their bodies branded with the ever-brightening sigils, were drawn even further into the city’s dark web. The whispers of rebellion were silenced, the hope of liberation snuffed out like a dying ember.
Nyx, a city eternally trapped in its neon hell, stood as a grim testament to the price of progress. The circuits—those damned sigils—etched a future where humanity remained ensnared in its own dark creation, with no escape in sight.
submitted by Krinji_ to shortstories [link] [comments]
Walking through Nyx was like traversing a techno-ritual. The sidewalks glowed with serpentine patterns that slithered and coiled, whispering ancient curses in an electric hum. The city’s infrastructure was an eerie mosaic of glowing symbols, each more intricate and unsettling than the last, like the walls were alive and breathing dark magic.
The people were marked too, their bodies branded with glowing tattoos that mirrored the city's malevolent circuitry. These marks pulsed with every heartbeat, connecting them to the dark energy flowing through Nyx. It was like living in a constant state of possession, their very essence intertwined with the city’s sinister power grid.
At the heart of this digital dystopia stood the Nexus, a monstrous structure adorned with the most elaborate of these demonic sigils. Its light was a baleful beacon, casting a ghastly glow that seeped into every crevice of Nyx. The circuits, like chains of the damned, bound the city in a never-ending twilight, blurring the line between cutting-edge tech and dark sorcery.
Elara, a rogue hacker, roamed the underbelly of Nyx, her eyes tracing the eerie patterns that etched themselves into every facet of the city. The sigils were everywhere, a constant reminder of the dark pact that powered this place. She had heard whispers of a way to disrupt the Nexus, to sever the city’s unholy ties to its technological overlords.
Her journey led her deep into the forgotten archives of Nyx, a labyrinthine network of data and code buried beneath layers of secrecy. Here, the air was thick with the hum of ancient servers, their circuits glowing with a dull, malevolent light. Each step she took resonated with the city’s dark heartbeat, the sigils on the walls pulsating in time with her own.
She found the script hidden in the depths of the digital abyss. It was an ancient code, a relic from a time before the circuits had taken on their sinister form. The script spoke of a reset, a way to dismantle the Nexus and return Nyx to its organic roots. But it came with a price—a life force was needed to sever the cursed circuits.
Elara hesitated, her finger hovering over the execution command. The sigils on her skin burned brighter, resonating with the energy of the ancient script. With a final, decisive breath, she initiated the sequence. Her body convulsed as the demonic circuits blazed with a ferocious light, the sigils seeming to scream in defiance.
The city flickered, the glow of the circuits dimming but never extinguishing. The baleful light of the Nexus sputtered, but then surged back, even more intense than before. Nyx seemed to groan under the weight of its dark enchantment, the sigils carving deeper into its very bones.
Elara's sacrifice had only fed the city’s malevolent core. The circuits, now fueled by her life force, glowed with a newfound intensity, binding Nyx even tighter in its demonic grip. The darkness thickened, the oppressive aura of the city deepening.
The people of Nyx, their bodies branded with the ever-brightening sigils, were drawn even further into the city’s dark web. The whispers of rebellion were silenced, the hope of liberation snuffed out like a dying ember.
Nyx, a city eternally trapped in its neon hell, stood as a grim testament to the price of progress. The circuits—those damned sigils—etched a future where humanity remained ensnared in its own dark creation, with no escape in sight.
2024.06.09 04:12 lozertuser A weekend introspective of GameStop.
 | A lot of regarded people here, so I'll put this thoughtful introspective out there on the state of GME for the weekend. submitted by lozertuser to Superstonk [link] [comments] You've been lied to, daily. "SELL GME IT'S A DYING BRICK AND MORTAR!". https://preview.redd.it/f1zmi85agg5d1.png?width=1379&format=png&auto=webp&s=4ab9f01595dcafcbf1ee7a5e29bac55b1f6ee7f4 You've been ridiculed. (see various current personalities, ex-cons, and influences memeing for the lulz) Short sellers used Splash. Your family calls you up during the runs an keep pestering you if you've sold yet. It's all calculated. It's always been playing on emotions. Psychological in nature, it works, exceedingly well. It falls apart when you start to think a bit further in the future. So take that crayon out of your nose, stop playing with your food, and here is where we begin the actual thinking part. Yes, you need to think for yourself, but don't be afraid to let someone guide you down one of many possible roads. I'm not saying this idea is correct, but Occom's Razor is a thing for a reason. I'll cover the most recent events to save time and energy, as I'd much rather spend my time playing a video game. You may recall the recent tweet Pulte made, where he said RC should sell shares in to the market. This man right here? He sees the big picture. Personally, I think this is awesome. Why? Simply shorts do not want to close their position. They never did. Their goal is to never close. (Where have I heard that before?) They want the bankruptcy jackpot. (Seriously, where have I heard this?) Why don't they close though? Greed and speculation. There are currently estimated, based on my last perusal of the subreddit, 420 million shares available. If the company sells 75 million shares into the market, makes, say 4 billion in profit, then buys back the same amount of shares over a year for a billion, would that be a good investment for GME? I don't know, do you regularly make a 3 billion profit every year with no risk to yourself or others? How about a casual billion? No? Being long term, the price doesn't matter. I'll buy more shares whenever I want and can afford to do it. I'll touch on this in a paragraph or so. But let's do the hardest thinking you'll ever have to do in your life. Every 5 billion in cash received (at the moment) offers us a value of at ~10 dollars per share, minimum. The current price is roughly 27 dollars. Each share you buy, if they have 5 billion in cash on the books, will give you a current risk of 17 dollars. If they close their doors, we are receiving at least 10 per share, for every 5 billion on the books. That's not including the liquidation of their inventory and distribution facilities. Every time GameStop buys shares back at lows, the dollar risk lowers a bit, and every time they sell into the market at highs, it lowers EVEN MORE. I like it in here, wanna stay longer? What's that you say? Yeah, a few can can get out of this chokehold, but not everyone is capable of doing so, or willing. Those dumbasses? They're going to find out it's been locked as soon as trip over each other rushing to the exit. They will chew their arms off trying to get out. The best part is, with the stock running and dropping as often as it did, and is now doing again, some short fund is going to hop right back into a losing position and experience quite a lot of pain. Hey guys, I shorted a couple million shares too, and brought pizza to celebr--- FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF "So what?" I hear you ask. Well, what happened the last time GameStop had low pricing? Well, they bought back shares, and earned massive gains on the investment. The best part is they don't even have to time anything. It's all done whenever the market value of GME goes heavily in a direction. Waiting and the price adjusts in a direction that benefits them to sell? Sell. Going to lows? Buy. Triple bagger. Easy. Rinse and fucking repeat. But my stock value! It's going to kill my portfolio! FGSFDS!!! I see you frothing at the mouth. You're nothing but a god damn speculator. We are the metaphorical pick-axe and shovel being offered to the shorts. We gain with zero risk and effort. They lose. If you were really a long term investor you would not be impacted by any of this in the slightest. A long term investor may even just laugh at losing a few hundred million in mere seconds and then buy more because there is more unseen potential and future profit to be had. Hey, watch this, wait, watch this... I think I'm going to end this post... What's going on in Ut--- GameStop? tl;dr https://preview.redd.it/45e7aahpfg5d1.png?width=667&format=png&auto=webp&s=c98a95b3d1e44cb442e826e89ea039ef2480e99f |