I've been a Data Engineer for a few years now and currently work within a small team which is headed up by our Senior DE. This DE in particular has been doing data work for around 20 years and makes a lot of decisions I find completely baffling:

• When they were promoted from data developer to Senior DE, we were all in a call together they were making out being Senior is just a title and there's no difference in responsibilities. Okay, sure, not a huge problem.
  
• They will constantly tell management that their approach is an "industry standard" and they 100% believe them.
  
• They're a dev who claims that C# is their primary language. They've been at the current company for 10+ years and they have never contributed any C# to the code base. The only other C# which exists was written by somebody else and they can't understand it.
  
• We have some of our codebase written in Python as we use PySpark. We also have Python automating manual tasks (which were previously done manually and no automated solutions existed for these daily, manual tasks). Said Senior keeps saying they know Python and, thus, suggest their informed opinion is that Python isn't worth learning despite having never written a line of Python in their life.
  
• Every time there's an opportunity to solve a problem, they will avoid using C#. An example would be the comparison of two lists of strings. They asked me if I could do it quickly, and I said yes, it'll take around a few minutes in Python. They said, "Actually, I think I'll just do it manually" and proceeded to import two lists of strings into Excel and then compare them manually. This took around 20 minutes. They tried to show some "progress" on some C# they had written - it was default code from the internet.
  
• If there's any new problem, there is no discussion. The only answer is any tool they are familiar with. Not anything else.
  
• Despite all of our code and infra existing in the cloud, they only see things as on prem only. Things must be done in the cloud like you do on prem. An example would be completely ignoring source control and deploying changes to SQL databases using scripts. They always edit the main branch of the repos and they update prod live.
  

I'm tearing my hair out working with this person as I feel like they're constantly pretending they can do stuff they can't. It's massively triggering watching somebody literally say "I know X language" despite full well knowing they don't followed by management and consultants thinking they're a technical genius. On the other hand, I'm fully aware I might be the toxic person here feeling this way and would rather know the truth.
Is there ever a situation where somebody who is clearly lying can get called out and you don't look like the asshole?

So, I’ve got Office 2021 installed on my PC, which includes Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Access, Publisher, Project, Visio, OneNote, and Outlook. I’m also running Windows 11 Pro.
All the internet advice says I can find my license through my Microsoft Account under Services and Subscriptions. But when I check there, it doesn’t show up. This might be because the license key was given to me by my former employer, Microsoft, for personal use. Now that I’ve lost the keys, I’m worried about what will happen if I need to reinstall Windows. Will I lose it for good?
Is there any way to retrieve the key? I tried using Command Prompt and PowerShell, which gave me a code, but I’m not sure it’s legit, especially since Project and Visio had separate license keys.

Hi MOA!
Last night in the DC stop for ACT:Promise, Terry "spoiled"/ announced that later this year VR version of the concert will be released! I haven't seen much discussion yet about this but I can't help but get hyped for what will be a very different way to "see" the show.
What are you most looking forward to? I really want to see:
1) ChaTheFeel high note circle cam, I loved whenever this type of camera work was done for that promotion!
2) Anything 0x1=Lovesong. I will never get sick of watching new versions of the queen
3) The Killa...kidding. I might not survive watching it...
How about y'all?

Hello everyone,
decided to try my luck here because I'm slowly losing my mind. The story is: For past few years I've been struggling with my health (kind of) and so I've been issuing bunch of tests etc. which all comes up fine. The symptoms were overal exhaustion and unability to focus. I'm using computer for about 14 hours a day.
Next on the list were my prescription glasses. Apparently whatever I was wearing for past 2 years was on wrong prescription and also the glasses were broken somewhere during assemblance. So i got new ones: -3.75 and -3.25 with some slight astigmatism that we didn't add on glasses because it would count as overcorrection. Issue still persists. Than it hit me.
It was around 2 years ago I've switched from TN screen (Benq XL2411Z) that I've been using for ages and bought lg 27gn800, something felt off and i thought maybe better refresh rate will help so i bought asus vg259qm. Unfortunatelly I cannot test the Benq because my graphics card does not support dvi, but I used it to scroll reddit for a while today on my 2nd computer and it felt way better (god knows if it's placebo).
I guess it might be important to note that IPS feels way better when I'm wearing contacts but after 8 hours my eyes are so dry i can't continue.
I guess here's TLDR and question as one: Did anyone else found IPS screens hard on their eyes compared to TN (especially prescription glasses users)? Is there any proof/science behind it? Am i actually losing it?

Have been away from campus for a bit and was hoping someone who might be walking by could snap a couple pics of the ongoing construction of Ginsburg Hall.
Note: you might have to make a new thread to post the pics or else use an offsite link.
Thanks and Fight On!

Hello everyone,
decided to try my luck here because I'm slowly losing my mind. The story is: For past few years I've been struggling with my health (kind of) and so I've been issuing bunch of tests etc. which all comes up fine. The symptoms were overal exhaustion and unability to focus. I'm using computer for about 14 hours a day.
Next on the list were my prescription glasses. Apparently whatever I was wearing for past 2 years was on wrong prescription and also the glasses were broken somewhere during assemblance. So i got new ones: -3.75 and -3.25 with some slight astigmatism that we didn't add on glasses because it would count as overcorrection. Issue still persists. Than it hit me.
It was around 2 years ago I've switched from TN screen (Benq XL2411Z) that I've been using for ages and bought lg 27gn800, something felt off and i thought maybe better refresh rate will help so i bought asus vg259qm. Unfortunatelly I cannot test the Benq because my graphics card does not support dvi, but I used it to scroll reddit for a while today on my 2nd computer and it felt way better (god knows if it's placebo).
I guess it might be important to note that IPS feels way better when I'm wearing contacts but after 8 hours my eyes are so dry i can't continue.
I guess here's TLDR and question as one: Did anyone else found IPS screens hard on their eyes compared to TN (especially prescription glasses users)? Is there any proof/science behind it? Am i actually losing it?

I'm currently trying to decide if I should got with an e-notebook (Boox Note Air C specifically) or a surface pro.
I plan on using it to organize my finances through a planner, notetaking for classes and really just my go to notepad for everything in life. For me, I love coloring everything I do, whether it's notes or my finances, which is why for an e-notebook, I'm hearing towards the Boox Note Air C as that's the only e-notebook I could find that has a color screen. With the cost of the device and accessories, I might be better off buying a surface instead (I do get a discount off the surfaces).
The downside of a surface pro that I've heard, is that they're are near impossible to work on if the device breaks in any way. It's sealed in a way that is hard to take apart and if you send it in, they just send you a refurbished device back rather than yours. My information could be very off and only based on a couple of outliers so take that with a grain of salt.
Thoughts? Pros and cons? Other ideas? Thanks for your input!!

It is my son's 12 b-day today! We got him the M1 Garand and put it together first. No problems. He loves it all and is super excited. Im a mom that wants to encourage and nurture my son's love of guns in a safe way. I started off with the M1 and the TSMG bc we have an uncle who fought in the Battle of the Bulge and I wanted to bring the M1 over in the hopes it would spark up a good convo about those times.
Then we moved on to the 2nd one we got. The TSMG. We CANT get the dang upper receiver onto the lower receiver where the notches align. Step #3 in the instructions. I have been trying for over 30 min. He is super frustrated. We have watched the videos online and they say that it can be tricky with the spring and retaining pin and it is just a matter of lining up the notches. I line them up and get it on but it gets stuck and will not slide back.
Ill see if I can make a vid and then post it here
I have tried it with the spring and retaining pin in (Im so worried about losing these little parts!!!) and I have tried to see if I can get the thing on without the pin and spring and can not get this to "just slide in" I don't think we bent the tracks in trying bc I am fairly good at putting things together and respecting that when something has small parts, etc that it should be done slowly and not forcing anything out of fear of breaking it. His dad is not useful bc not only is he a programmer but 6'7" and has hotdogs for fingers.
There is little to no support from GOAT guns other than their email. I emailed them bc a month ago they were out of the M1 and it took days for them to get back to us and they didn't really answer the question (when will M1 be back in stock?), so I don't hold out much hope for help from them. I guess if worse comes to worse, I could return it bc they offer 90 days returns and I still am in that window.
What we really need is a GOAT gun hero to tell us a trick that we are missing? Be a birthday hero and help a mom and her son figure this out. I know already that my son is going to want the AR and or the AK.
Would going to a gun shop be a good idea? Maybe someone there might be able to help? There are no local retailers here in South FL but a gun expert might be able to help in real time.
Any suggestions or help would be greatly appreciated!!!

Context: (skip on down to the questions if you want, this got a bit long)
This has become extremely verbose since I want to give people some relatively detailed context so that the replies are as informed as possible.
I graduated uni a couple years ago, studying a non-law BSc. I have good A levels and a good degree classification. For the past couple years I've been really considering applying for training contracts. I've researched everything that a usual graduate does: I understand how law firms work, I believe I have a decent sense of what the culture is like and what's required, I have a vague notion of what each seat and sector of law entails. I want some opinions straight from the horses mouth.
Currently I work for a legal tech start-up that operate as an ALSP. After university I targeted applications toward legal tech start-ups to ascertain whether I genuinely have an interest in legal processes, or if I just want to be working in a 'fast-paced' environment in a business where my work provides a tangible difference and I can acquire new skills and insight that a degree would never provide. To keep things short, turns out, I like both. I enjoy where I work, and often complete work outside of my role that gives me insight into what being a solicitor might be like (although the work is more similar to that of a paralegal tbf). However, I definitely want to at least give a round of TC applications a go, rather than avoid it for 3-4 years and never end up bothering. I think it's a great opportunity to (likely) get some more education through a PGDL, gain some excellent exposure during a TC, become professionally qualified in a regulated area, and hopefully develop my interest in law into a profession (no shit).
To caveat, yes, I also think it's a great opportunity to move me into a higher tax bracket, gain a level of 'prestige' (whatever that means), and develop skills that will be useful if I subsequently decided to exit out of law, not that that's the current plan if I bagged a TC.
I'm keen to apply for firms similar to CMS and Eversheds Sutherland.
Okay, so what are my questions?
Questions:

1. Hypothetically, if you were me, would you apply for TCs and try to become a lawyer? If so why/why not? Essentially, would you recommend it?
2. Do you think that from my experiences above, I couldn't have possibly figured out whether or not I would enjoy law, and that I might be naively walking into things? (I have no other 'legal experience')
3. Is the experience at firms similar to CMS much different than at MC firms? If so, in what ways?
4. Similarly, what are the real differences between top UK firms and US firms? More in terms of culture and work ethic, as opposed to the type of work, team structures etc.
5. Here's one for bait: I read biglaw a lot, it's a complete echo chamber and represents a certain type of lawyer. Is it inevitable that I'll have to sacrifice happiness to be a lawyer?

On a serious note, really just want some advice/perhaps some inspiration. I'm a bit cautious to make the leap and I don't have any family friends in biglaw who I could reach out to. Thanks for reading. Please don't sugar coat your replies.

Many moons ago, I posted about my post-graduation despair: https://www.reddit.com/labrats/s/hTpEVaQX4u
Y’all were very helpful, and made a lot of suggestions.
It took more than a year of work, but I figured my shit out and wanted to leave a note here about what I learned in case anyone else might find it helpful. So here’s the deal:
Kids changed me more than I ever expected. They changed my priorities and goals, and sticking to my old dream would have meant betraying those new priorities and goals. And I just was not man enough to fuck up their childhood for the sake of a career. The part of me that still wanted to try and be a great PI whined endlessly, and the part of me that saw being on that path as a core part of my identity panicked and writhed and constantly tried to indulge in bottomless self-loathing. It was super uncomfortable to say the least.
I had to ask myself what I really wanted, and realized that what I really wanted was not at all related to my career. I got comfortable thinking about my career second, and asking what I could do in research, which I still love, without compromising on family. Turns out that it’s being a kick ass staff scientist working on the exact set of problems I’ve always wanted to work on. I’m in a new lab now, I’m proud of what I do and take deep satisfaction from making my own small contributions to the development of life saving medical technology.
So. To those of you suffering through your own dark days, there’s hope. And my inbox is open if you need someone to listen.

Hello! Follow my main account(listed below), and I will give you 4 follow back alts. EST time zone. Give me 20 hours as I might be asleep. Dm me on Instagram that you are from Reddit guys! This is critical as otherwise I might confuse you with a bot or lose the track. No need to follow my alts, only my main account Note: this is 4F1, not F4F👇🏻 https://www.instagram.com/daniel_gerasimov_ruso/

Hello! Follow my main account(listed below), and I will give you 4 follow back alts. EST time zone. Give me 20 hours as I might be asleep. Dm me on Instagram that you are from Reddit guys! This is critical as otherwise I might confuse you with a bot or lose the track. No need to follow my alts, only my main account Note: this is 4F1, not F4F👇🏻 https://www.instagram.com/daniel_gerasimov_ruso/

So full disclosure here, we are only 3 sessions into the campaign. The party has just hit level 3, and are about to hit their first "stepping off" point so now would be a great time for new people to join. We have 3 lovely players but had 2 players drop out: one due to IRL issues, and the second due to lack of chemistry with the party.

The Flavor Intro

GOBLIN AMBUSH SHOCKS TRAVELERS ON TRIBOAR TRAIL

The Actual Intro

Hey everyone. My name is Justin, I'm in my late 20s, and I've been playing 5E for over four years now, and I am putting together a group to play through the official D&D adventure the re-release of Lost Mine of Phandelver "Phandelver and Below: The Shattered Obelisk"!
We will be using Discord for voice and Foundry as our VTT. We'll be running the game on Tuesdays from 6 to 10 PM US Eastern.

The DM

So D&D is a pretty intimate game. It's not as simple as sitting down and playing Scrabble with someone for a few hours a week. There's a lot of talking, interaction, and creative collaboration. To have a fulfilling experience with a storytelling game like this, you need to vibe really well with the rest of the people at the (virtual) table. So before we get into nitty gritty game mechanics, who am I as a Dungeon Master?
I love helping create positive experiences for everyone at the table. I value good chemistry, common courtesy, and social awareness. I put a lot of work into my games and I would hope my players reciprocate that effort by learning their characters, respecting everyone else's time, taking notes, and building their fellow players up (the DM included). I'm a big nerd and I'm super passionate about storytelling and world-building. I'm currently running another campaign on Thursdays but there are too many great stories to tell with only just one group, so I'm looking for more people to bring into the fold.
My favorite works are The Lord of the Rings, the Witcher books, the Dark Souls series (really most stuff made by Hidetaka Miyazaki), Baldur's Gate 3, as well as Fallout 1 and 2, and Fallout: New Vegas. I'm a big fan of more gritty, down-to-earth fantasy and other settings. There are two kinds of Skyrim players: players who mod infinite carry weight because they just wanna run around and blow things up, and players who mod lower carry weight because they want a grittier experience. I am the second kind. So if you're looking for someone who's more into anime or stuff like Avatar the Last Airbender, we might have some creative differences! That doesn't have to be a deal breaker, but I want you to know what to expect. That being said, I also love over-the-top nonsensical stuff that doesn't take itself too seriously. I love works like Army of Darkness, DOOM, Emperor's New Groove.
Outside the box, I'm a midwesterner, a veteran, politically lean mostly left, and I love history. I love Greek and Norse mythology. My music taste reflects my midwestern emo angst, and I've been listening to bands like Say Anything and Taking Back Sunday for the last 15 years.

The Game

So first and foremost, I run things very close to RAW, with as little homebrew or house rules as possible. I am not really a "rule of cool" Dungeon Master.
The house rules I do have can be found here. Mostly innocuous and optional stuff, but the most impactful are variant encumbrance and short rests are only 10 minutes but limited to two per long rest.
I also have an explicit "no real world allegories" policy in my games. I will never attempt to push my personal political, religious, or social beliefs onto the party. There could be stories inspired by real events, but I'm just trying to tell a good story, and I'm not trying to push an agenda.
As for tone, on a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being Emperor's New Groove and 10 being Game of Thrones, I am going for about a 6. A "mostly serious" experience where there are heavy themes and tones with frequent light-hearted moments in between. This is an adventure featuring things like slavery and body horror so if you have a light stomach, this might not be the game for you. There will be occasional gore, and potentially adult themes, although any explicit sexual scenes won't be depicted or described. Additionally, sexual violence could be referenced or alluded to, but will never be explicitly depicted. You can trust I'm not here trying to intentionally make anyone uncomfortable but I'm also not interesting in censoring the story because you didn't know what you signed up for. If you've ever read something like the Witcher or played Dark Souls and were okay with what you saw, you'll be fine here.
Lastly, while I am very strict about how I want to build the world and its aesthetics, I also want to the party play their own roles in it. There are neither cutscenes nor railroads here. I'll be picky about using character art that matches everyone else's, but the town of Phandalin is your oyster to build up or break down how the party sees fit.
So if you don't like 99% RAW, slightly grittier fantasy, or the risks associated with answering the call to adventure, this might not be the campaign for you.
But all that being said, this is still a game, and the point is to tell a fun, collaborative story while killing monsters in caves and graverobbing for magical treasure.
So if you've read over the GMBinder link and find the house rules to be acceptable, than you can continue on to the nitty gritty of the actual setting and campaign.

The Campaign

As for what this campaign is specifically about, it takes place in the official Dungeons & Dragons setting of the Forgotten Realms, and I'm running the Lost Mine of Phandelver sequel/remake "Phandelver and Below: The Shattered Obelisk."
You’re in the city of Neverwinter when your dwarf patron and friend, Gundren Rockseeker, hires you to escort a wagon to Phandalin. Gundren has gone ahead with a warrior, Sildar Hallwinter, to attend to business in the town while you follow with the supplies. You will be paid 10 gp each by the owner of Barthen’s Provisions in Phandalin when you deliver the wagon safely to that trading post.
This campaign runs from level 1 to 12, and concerns a miriad of enemies including but not limited to goblinoids, undead, and aberrations (namely mind flayers).
The campaign itself is a little bit of a railroad, with a very important "main plot" that forces the party to achieve specific in-game goals, but there are branching paths that lots of options in the main story for the party to alter it how they see fit based on their decisions in-game. Central plot-points concern saving and building up the frontier town of Phandalin; the goblins and their schemes and how they connect to a bigger, more nefarious plot; and ultimately saving the land from a much bigger threat from down below.
You will be starting at 1st level, and we can go over the nitty gritty character creation stuff during your one-on-one Session Zero.
So if you've read through the post, find my house rules and the setting satisfactory, then you can send me a message!

What I Want From You

• Your name, age, discord, and any other identification you feel is important.
• Your experience with D&D 5E or other systems.
• Your goals and expectations with this game.
• Why you think this would be a game you'd enjoy playing in, as well as what would make you a fun and engaging player to DM for.

Again, we'll be running the game on Tuesdays from 6 to 10 PM US Eastern.

What I'm Looking For

• Kindness and respect. Above all, be kind and respectful. Group cohesion should come before anything else.
• Engaging players. Pay attention to the campaign, take notes, work with your fellow players.
• A basic understanding of the rules. Look I'm not asking you to know how long it takes to don/doff medium armor or how long you can hold your breath, but you should know how bonus actions work and what a grapple check is.
• Medium-term commitment. Assuming we get along, the goal is to play this campaign for the next few months, and take things from there.

I have been working on implementing some basic numerical linear algebra routines and came across a curiosity. The standard book on numerical methods: Numerical Recipes by Press et. al. first teaches the Gauss-Jordan method, remarking that is about "as efficient as any other method for calculating the matrix inverse". The authors follow this section with one on Gaussian elimination about which they remark "Any discussion of Gaussian elimination with backsubstitution is primarily pedagogical".
This seems extremely odd to me. Why do they treat Gauss-Jordan as the default while Gaussian elimination as pedagogical tool when GE is more efficient than GJ? Numerical recipes itself notes the lower operation count of GE, and other textbooks such as Watkins' Fundamentals of Matrix Computations also notes the higher efficiency of GE over GJ.
I would appreciate any thoughts on what I might be missing. Thank you.

I just bought a 2015 Ford Fusion. I haven’t picked it up yet. But I’m wonder if I can fit a box for an 18” sub in the trunk? Specifically an 18” Kali by Adire Audio. It’ll take 3,000W. I might try to push 4,000 to it. As a side note, could I power this speaker with just an extra battery or would I need to get a HO alternator? I found a 350 amp one from power bastards for $500

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

Omg people are crazy. I had a good laugh while talking to her. She is delusional and it's kinda sad but it's what she chose. She called me once and we talked for about ten min and laughed but I was in a online test (my mind wasnt in the right state) and told her to call back in about two hours. I call her to hear what she wants to say.
She basically called me to confess everything she did. We might have spent a good 10-20min with her trying to talk to me and me just cracking jokes or texting weird shit to my friends or browsing for a series to watch (I found out the is live remake of an anime I like and it's good). It seemed like she wanted me to ask questions as she didn't talk as much and kept asking what I am laughing at.
I didn't really want to hear the story on what happened and basically left it too her to confess and the best she could do was to say sorry for the photo. She was also using wishy washy language by saying what you think you saw or how I (me) see it. I basically stopped her anytime she tried that and threatened to drop the call if she doesn't stop. The only time she even remotely mentioned cheating was a picture I posted of me with a girl that I posted to just spite her (I realised I was becoming petty when I posted that picture and blocked her) and she said I did the same thing as her. I laughed and told her I never cheated on her and any messages she sent to me after didn't reach me as I blocked her after she saw the pic.
She denies that we didn't breakup and wants to makeup. I tell her that's her reality and in mine she doesn't exist as I don't even have her numbers. She seemed depressed and sad but I didn't care. I told her I am blocking this number after the call and she tries to convince me not too block her asking me what reason do I need to block her and we can just move on without blocking each other.
She basically wanted closure and wanted me to tell her how to move on. I threw references to what she did but didn't say it outright. I told her that my friends helped me. I asked her if she had anything else to say and she just asked me not too hang up. That didn't stop me and I did hang up and sent a short voice note basically calling out her apology attempt and her hypocrisy. I also told her never to call me again and to leave me alone. Don't know if it will change anything but that voice note was satisfying to do. I blocked her aswell shortly after.
Reason I didn't bother asking her for answers was because she probably cooked up a story and the was no point in asking her as it was probably gonna be a lie and it won't change anything nor will it change how I feel about her. My love died when I saw that pic and her reaction after made it worse. My cousin was disappointed in me not getting answers as she is trying to piece everything together. Her status from what my cousin told me were about her not needing a man (before i called her) and after we talked for the first time were pics of finding a soulmate and pics of me holding her hand.
Who knows if my ex ever reaches out to me again then I will add my cousin to the call and watch drama unfold because both have a sharp tongue and I will be a mediator in my own drama (stopping both sides from saying anything crazy). I hope that never happens though but it does sound like it will be fun.

Hello :)
I am looking for two motocross riders who would be willing to participate in an exciting project this Tuesday 11th June. We have a film crew equipped with drones and cameras, and we would like to film them racing for a teaser of a short film (I’ve got an important meeting with a production and I want to show them the atmosphere of my project with a short edited video).
In exchange for their participation, we will gladly provide them with the captured footage. If you are interested or know any riders who might be, please contact me.
I have included a wetransfer link containing the script and the presentation of my project (Only availible in french for the moment), I would appreciate constructive feedback based on riders’ experience.
NB: Please note that we’re not shooting the short-film, we’re only shooting a teaser to get funds!
Thank you in advance for your help :)
Best regards,
Orlando

OR: Pride & Prejudice & Punks
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a GM with a solid group, must be in want of a scenario. Or not; maybe you're good with random generators and recycling the modules from 2020. But occasionally, I like to really stretch my brain and see what I can create. So to challenge myself, I decided to try converting Pride & Prejudice into Cyberpunk RED. I will be assuming a certain degree of familiarity with the work, mostly because it has its own Wikipedia page and you can literally go and read the synopsis. I'd encourage you to read the book if you want the greatest benefit, but there's absolutely no judgment if that ain't your jam.
Obviously a 1:1, completely honest translation is impossible. The central plot of the original work revolves around women unable to inherit their father's wealth trying to make good marriages. That's pretty obviously not a problem in Night City. However, there's more to work with there than you might think.
For one, the main relationship of the book is a rags-to-riches love story. We can leverage the massive wealth and power disparity between Darcy and Elizabeth to feed back into more punk narratives.
For another, the characters are surprisingly human and relatable for a gap of 300 years and 4,000 miles (your mileage may vary - literally). Caroline Bingley still comes across as a desperate try-hard. Collins resounds as an utter douche-canoe who told a father to cut his daughter out of his life.
So there's quite a bit there to steal, whether you want to rip it off and use it for background, or if you think one of your PCs actually fits one of the roles. So let's talk about the two ways you can use this material in your game.
Option 1: Strip For Parts / Put On Display
Austen's one hell of a writer, but her conflicts are typically resolved internally. There's very little intervention needed by any heavily armed outsiders (unless you count the Wickham-Lydia elopement). So actually putting the plot of Pride & Prejudice into your Cyberpunk game is a tall order (though not impossible; see below). What works better is stripping the plot for parts and using them as background material that occasionally invites the PCs to mess with it.
Rather than have the players be interested in the "will-they-won't-they" between Jane and Mr. Bingley because that's all they have to distract them from their aristocratic ennui, start running it as a background element. Players go to a high-end club, and this rich corpo's there, with his bodyguards and his skinny-b*tch sister, Caroline. Rich corpo (Mr. Bingley, by name), is interested in one of the PCs buddies (Jane, in this scenario), and spends a lot of time dancing with them, but doesn't take them home. This takes place as background material solely while the PCs are accomplishing their mission, getting a gig from the fixer, or doing whatever else it is they are doing.
Next week, the PCs have two more jobs from local fixers. Turns out a client wants Jane scoped out - what skeletons do they have? Do they have a paramour already? (This job is from Mr. Bingley, who absolutely wants to know if Jane is into them). The other job is to frame Jane as a gold-digging harlot with evidence provided by the client (this job is from Caroline, who thinks her brother is way too good to be slumming it with some club hooker). The PCs are offered both jobs, along with another, unrelated one. Which one do they accept? Either way, you run the consequences down in as cyberpunk a way as possible.
In another scenario, the PCs are befriended by a new kid in town - Wickham. He's a grifter who targets rich, young, vulnerable people and marries them, but he's not targeting the PCs. He is incredibly charming and almost supernaturally good-looking (COOL = 8, maxed out Persuasion, Acting, and Wardrobe & Style, minimum). He also hates people the PCs hate, and makes himself useful to them in a variety of small ways. Need a place to crash? He can get you one, choomba. Need a new piece? He'll get you the exact right caliber, friend. Anyone who bothers to dig into him finds some disturbing rumors from his past: apparently, Wickham's been married six times, and each of his past wives has died mysteriously after leaving everything to him. But Wickham's a notorious gambler as well, and he just pisses money away. More likely, though, the PCs don't do any research, and the following escalation plays out:
One night, Wickham shows up with a corpo heiress he's eloping with, and a duffel bag full of cash from her family's account. The heiress is incredibly drunk and probably high. Wickham needs the crew to buy him some time to get her to a chapel and legally marry her. He stresses that he just needs the PCs to buy him some time, as there are some corpo "detectives" looking for him. He'll pay them $1k each, up front, with another $1k to follow if they can pull the heat off him.
If the PCs accept, they discover that the girl's aunt and uncle are driving the search, and they've brought some serious professional muscle: Team Monster. The aunt and uncle are terrified that the heiress is going to wind up dead as soon as those marriage papers are signed, and they are willing to double Wickham's price if the PCs just tell them where Wickham is...but if the PCs dither, they'll just sic Team Monster on the PCs. If the PCs fight, that heiress dies to some tragic poisoning, and Wickham escapes - this puts the PCs squarely on the shit list of every corpo with a fortune to protect and a gonk kid (at least 30% of the corpos out there). If the PCs sell out Wickham, they save the girl, make some cash, and watch Wickham's skull get ventilated.
One final point on stripping this novel for parts. Pride & Prejudice is so influential it still gets taught and sold today. This book is fairly well known by anyone with at least a high-school education. So if you translate the characters too honestly, you are liable to tip your hand. Adjusting names helps (Yelbing instead of Bingley). You can also gender-swap characters, change ethnicities, languages, etc.
Option 2: Central Casting
Prologue: talk to your players about romance before dropping it in your game. It can go great or it can go cringe as fuck. It rarely hits a middle ground.
Main event: So, what happens when you realize you've actually got an Elizabeth Bennet-type at your table? Well, you drop in Mr. Darcy, and see what happens. This is actually something I'm going to try, because when I read Pride & Prejudice this weekend, I noted several similarities between my wife's Solo and Elizabeth Bennet. And because in-game Thanksgiving is coming up, one of her Corporate contacts is going to invite her to a Thanksgiving dinner, black tie (she doesn't have black-tie duds, but that's a great way to introduce Not A Stitch To Wear).
If she attends, cue the anti-meet-cute between her and the standoffish and proud Lady Pembrooke (my gender-swapped Mr. Darcy), who is in town for several months handling some business for their incredibly rich aunt. From there, you put them in rooms together, and see where that goes. The core of these two's relationships in the book (and why it's so satisfying) is a very, very, very well done "enemies to friends to lovers" trope that doesn't just change each other, but changes themselves, too.
"Ah, but Sparky," I hear you say, "their relationship can only take off because they alternate between being forced together and being kept apart. Like that time Elizabeth stayed at Netherfield to tend to her sick sister and had to talk to Darcy. How do you do force them together?"
Well, I'm figuring getting caught together in a bank heist-turned-hostage situation might work fairly well. Give them a couple of other hostages to play off of, and maybe throw in Caroline Bingley to try talking smack about the PC, and you've got the ingredients for an interestingly tense scene while they come up with a way out of there. All you really need is a location and a situation where the two characters have to talk to each other. Austen accomplishes this with a deft use of social expectations. You can do the same thing in Night City by letting it just be Night City - alternate action with conversation.
You could also have Darcy show up in places where he's an inconvenience to the PCs job. If they get hired to hit a big gala, and Darcy's there with an inconveniently sharp eye on them, then somebody's got to distract him. In the meantime, you can also hear rumors about how Darcy was an absolute schmuck to someone the PCs like. And of course, the biggest impediment to Darcy's happiness is Darcy himself, because he cannot stop acting like he's better than everyone else.
That's the push - the pull is that Darcy actually does care about people, and takes noblesse oblige seriously. He'll work hard to provide charity, and uses his position and privilege to help folks out when they're in a jam. In short, show good deeds, don't have Darcy tell anyone about them. In fact, the more steps Darcy can take to avoid his good deeds leaking out to the PC, the better.
The final question for this pairing, though, is simple: Do they get a happy ending? (Get your head out of the gutter, Dan). That, I think, depends on how your PC plays it. Do they actively antagonize high society? Infuriate their social betters? Flaunt their competence? Well, have high society respond. Darcy's aunt sends hit squads. Caroline Bingley anonymously leaks damaging information (false or true) to the press. Fixers get warned not to work with the PCs, and some of them listen.
Do they convince Darcy to come away with them? To start a new life? Do they insert themselves in his? The options are endless, and ultimately, Night City itself can be a reason why they're doomed. But as Romeo & Juliet shows, sometimes doomed romances are the most impactful kind.
Anyway, hope this was helpful! See y'all later!

IOS updated on my iPhone and iPad yesterday evening and after the update I could no longer log in to either with my passcode. I've seen similar reports on the Apple Community page like this:
https://discussions.apple.com/thread/254944952?sortBy=best
Only option seems to be wiping it and reinstalling it. I have 2 yubikeys setup on my account and when I tried to use one, it asked me for a pin. I don't remember setting up a pin at the time, you only get 8 guesses, before I realised there was a limit I locked out one the keys. The 2nd key has 4 guesses left and I'm losing faith in remembering what I entered.
My best bet is to maybe recreate the setup process and see if the screens I see jogs my memory on what I might have used.
If I remember back, I think I added them to the apple account first, then later added them to my MS account which forced me to setup a PIN on the keys at that point. Not all services require the pin, 1Password doesn't for example so not knowing the pin isn't an issue there. When try to log into the Apple accounts webpage or setup my wiped ipad it is prompting me for a PIN for the key. Weirdly it accepted the key just fine during set when it didnt yet have a passcode setup.
Not sure if anyone can confirm my memory that Apple doesn't require a pin setup on the Yubi when adding via iphone? If I've entered this on an Apple device before, it might help jog my memory.
Will Apple be able to recover my account for me if I have the Yubikey but don't have the pin for it? Or can they circumvent the yubikey 2FA entirely using other ways? I know my appleid password, have the sim for the attached phone number and have access the email address, I also have a recovery code, but I think this stops working after you add hardware keys?
Really hoping for some good news. Losing my Apple Account would be a nightmare, I can't believe given how careful I was setting everything up I wouldn't have either noted it somewhere if I chose a new one or just used a familiar pin/pass.
I'm aware the PIN can actually be alphanumeric and I've only been trying numeric ones so far, will probably use the remaining guesses on passwords rather than pins.

I notice in other genres of music is more common for the singer to sing in a higher register.
Rock and Metal for example has lots of bands where the singer is trying to sing as high as possible. Musicals and operas often favour higher voice types in lead roles. R & B and Soul is almost synonymous with sliding into a smooth falsetto.
However it’s different with Jazz. In Jazz, a lot of the singers are lower voice types and generally sing lower notes a lot more.
Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, Nat “King” Cole and Louis Armstrong are all Baritones (Louis might even be a high Bass). Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan are Altos or Mezzos (I think?). Sammy Davis Jr. and Tony Bennett are Tenors, but those I are the only two I can think of and they aren’t particularly high Tenors either. Lastly, I can’t think of any Sopranos who sing Jazz.
The only other popular genre that I can think of that has lots of lower voices is Country. But that’s a different conversation, lol.
Why is it exactly that Jazz has this low singing preference though?