Shoulder pain when breathing deep
Fibromyalgia - An Optimistic but Realistic Support Group
2009.04.18 10:29 LisaHellen Fibromyalgia - An Optimistic but Realistic Support Group
An optimistic but realistic support group.
2017.08.26 21:20 alyssarp Brachial Plexus Injuries Subreddit
A supportive place for people with brachial plexus injuries of any kind. Join us for a safe and caring environment to talk about your disability.
2020.05.01 02:03 zumeius Community of the Jiralhanae
This is a community for those in the Jiralhanae Community, if you have questions on the Jiralhanae of Halo please ask away!
2024.05.03 01:52 TheHunter459 The Cursed
 | Saqar, the Cursed Sage submitted by TheHunter459 to wizardposting [link] [comments] It was a hollow victory. Leviathan had burnt the army of the dead laying siege to a crisp, but that would not reverse the damage that had already been done. She had ruled over a desert before, a harsh environment unfriendly to life, but one that could be adapted to, but now, to look out over it, she no longer saw the golden sands. Only the grey, wasting decay that the walking dead left where they roamed. This is your father's legacy, Samael. And how well you have grown into it! For a man who had killed his own father, Samael was rather fond of repeating his many sins. Though she wasn't much different, come to think of it. Perhaps she would curse her own children as well. But he had failed to truly overcome them. Her armies, while weakened, would still fight, their spirits unbowed, unbent, unbroken. But the dead had shaken them. Necromancy is a wizard's tool, a mortal's desperate plea to sit amongst the mighty ones, her advisors had convinced her. Maalik had agreed with them when he had been alive, which should have clued her in on the reality. Strong as he was, Maalik underestimated his foes frequently. When Bezaliel's fleet had sunk, she had considered the invasion over, and when the lich had raised them, she had thought she would mop them up quickly. But chaos reigned; Orcyx burst into flames; a reminder of Samael's power, for though neither she nor Ayeera could figure out how, it was surely the Necromancer's work. And the dead had not gone down easily. They had expected the dead would be as strong as mortal men, not averse to pain, but still not up to fighting Nephilim. But amongst the dead bodies serving the lich were Nephilim bodies, that now fought with no fear or inhibition, only the cold drive of a necromancer's spells. But that was then. Now, the tides had turned. Bezaliel had switched sides, the fickle bitch. While Harut had reportedly pledged to join Samael, Saqar was uniquely placed to deliver surgical strikes that would cause perhaps fatal amounts of delay. An army needs infrastructure to move, after all. Of course, she had little infrastructure left, courtesy of an upjumped mortal who did not know when to die, but small strike teams didn't play by the same rules. They couldn't stop Harut, but they would hold him in place. Ayeera and Bezaliel readily agreed; Samael was stretched fighting the two of them; denying the Necromancer relief was a great boon. But even as she hassled Harut, she had to rebuild her forces, and quick. She had not entered this conflict to die, and so she had ordered her territory scoured for corpses. Not to burn. But to use. Samael's servants had left some spoils, and the power of Necromancy was exclusive no more. The Ring of Power She had recognised the ring, or rather, one of the wizards serving her had, from old texts describing the first necromancer, and the ring she was always seen wearing. It had been whispered by those who tiptoed about under her that Oku Iku's Ring of Power was the source of her unnatural might and longevity. For mortal men, they had been remarkably close to the truth. A lich's phylactery was the only thing keeping them from the Void, not to be carried into battle, where it could be destroyed, or stolen. A foolish mistake. Oku Iku was mortal, and despite the power Samael may vest in her, she couldn't dominate Saqar. Laughing to herself, Saqar slipped the ring onto her finger. At once, the soul within attempted to overtake her. But she was a Lord of the Nephilim, whatever curses her father may have laid upon her would not cause her to fall to a mere mortal. "But you are a mere mortal and not a god, though you think you are as wise as a god." She spoke aloud, declaring her mastery over the lich. "You thought to tear down my walls and sit on my throne. Now you serve me." She could see it now, Oku Iku's inner being, her desires, her weakness, her utter submission to Samael. "But you have a new master now, and I will show you godhood. And you will be my first priest. Now, teach me the magic of Necromancy." The lich materialised in front of her, the spirit bowed, unable to fight back. She towered over the creature, as Nephilim towered over men and dwarves and orcs and every mortal that sought to rise above their station. "As the Master commands." She had oft wondered what did Samael see in mortals that he empowered them and elevated them above his other servants, but now she was flat out flabbergasted. The lich couldn't resist her. So now, to take her knowledge. When it was done, when the spells had been taught, Saqar left her throne room, and went out to the mass of corpses, in a cordoned off area of the city. They were ostensibly to be burnt, but now, with her newfound power, a thousand dead bodies had a much more productive use. If you could see me now, Father, you'd know your curses were just words in the wind. Maalik would have been proud, his good eye struggling to hold back tears as he watched his little sister step out from his shadow, and come into her own. She marvelled at the Ring again. How strange such power ultimately rest in so small a thing. Such a little trinket... When she reached the mound of corpses, she stopped to gaze in awe at the mountain of corpses laid out before her. An army, dropped at her feet. She raised her hand, steadying herself, and began to raise the dead. The dead stirred, and slowly climbed to their feet. "They will be more coordinated if you are sure of yourself," the lich said. "Why do you doubt?" Taking the words to heart, Saqar reassured herself of what she was doing, and true enough, the dead were now moving as nimble as the living. For the first time in centuries, Saqar truly smiled. We'll have to arrange them into divisions, arm them, place some wards, but we have an army! She released the spell, and turned away in triumph, but as she walked, a hand grasped her shoulder. In confusion she turned. And recognised her folly in what she saw. Samael, Necromancer of Malus Turrim The dead continued to rise, but they weren't under her control. Samael stood there, armed and armoured, a sword in his hand. And behind him was the lich. How? She had dominated the lich. Broken it. Oku Iku laughed cruelly. "Has no one warned of you of the dangers of magic rings? How unfortunate for you. The trinket is not a phylactery idiot. You should have listened to the wizard." "I'm not going to kill you, Saqar. Not yet. You will have a front-row seat as the dead tear apart this city, and as I give your throne to a mere mortal." Samael's rich baritone was mocking. "You wondered why I have mortals serving me. I find that immortals are no smarter than mortals. You took a ring of power, and found destruction. The curse of a father is not easily forgotten, after all. I should know." How did he know? Even as her father lay dying, he had cursed her. She had laughed then, at the ramblings of a dying man, but no more. She reached into the depths of her power, hoping to catch Samael off guard with a spell, but before she could act a searing pain ran through her body, and she fell to the ground screaming. "Death is merely the final failure of the weak," the lich murmured, as Samael hefted his sword over her head. "And you, seeking to be strong, become weak. A fallen god." Saqar wanted to reply, but the pain still wracked her body. It's the damned ring! But she couldn't exercise the control required to remove it. She kept trying, and kept failing. Not like this! NOT LIKE THIS! "It will happen, just like this," Samael assured her. The sword fell, and she knew no more. "May you seek power in the corners of the world, In the whispers of the wind, in the depths of the sea, In the secrets of the old, in the mysteries of the arcane. But let it be known, my child, That the power you seek will elude your grasp. In its place, you shall find destruction, May the sun bear witness to this curse, May the moon weep at your plight, For you shall seek power, but find only destruction, Until the day you learn the true strength lies within. By the ancient bonds of blood and spirit Thus I curse you, my wayward daughter" |
2024.05.03 01:43 realAtmaBodha Life, Death and the weakness of Evil
Until the human mind is liberated , it can only experience life through a dualistic lens. This makes writing about It more challenging, because the mind will want to categorize, catalogue and frame it based on what it regards as relatable. To someone who has been mind-locked their entire life, to contemplate a world outside the mind can feel daunting. To such a person, mind is the only reality and perhaps even love is an unknown feeling.
When love emerges within you, it is as if a fire is suddenly stoked within your chest. You find yourself falling, tumbling out of your mind and into your heart. Falling out of your mind this way is why they call it "falling in love." You realize at this point that you are more than the useful tool called mind. This is not enlightenment, but you have taken an important step toward authenticity and experiencing your deeper nature.
After you arrive at love, you may celebrate it, at first. But then you may discover empathy and feel the pain of others. Also, being lovestruck, you may play the fool guided by the whims of the heart, untethered to Truth. In such a way, you can be manipulated as a pawn in another's game. Heartbroken, you may find yourself in a different sort of cage. Retreating back to the mind, you may proclaim that you "don't care", and you would be right as minds don't care. But, you realize now that there is something more and so your mind is receptive to discovering more secrets about yourself. Or perhaps instead you turn toward temporary fixes and chase other highs. Why ? Because you feel incomplete. This is when evil enters you, making you feel its weakness and you, the chooser is tricked into believing this alien weak thing is you. Life is short, it says, so get what you can while you still breathe.
Such is this game of life and death before crossing the threshold to bornless Whole, the One. You learn that it was never you that was weak, for only the choice can be that, never the chooser.
submitted by realAtmaBodha to awakened [link] [comments]
When love emerges within you, it is as if a fire is suddenly stoked within your chest. You find yourself falling, tumbling out of your mind and into your heart. Falling out of your mind this way is why they call it "falling in love." You realize at this point that you are more than the useful tool called mind. This is not enlightenment, but you have taken an important step toward authenticity and experiencing your deeper nature.
After you arrive at love, you may celebrate it, at first. But then you may discover empathy and feel the pain of others. Also, being lovestruck, you may play the fool guided by the whims of the heart, untethered to Truth. In such a way, you can be manipulated as a pawn in another's game. Heartbroken, you may find yourself in a different sort of cage. Retreating back to the mind, you may proclaim that you "don't care", and you would be right as minds don't care. But, you realize now that there is something more and so your mind is receptive to discovering more secrets about yourself. Or perhaps instead you turn toward temporary fixes and chase other highs. Why ? Because you feel incomplete. This is when evil enters you, making you feel its weakness and you, the chooser is tricked into believing this alien weak thing is you. Life is short, it says, so get what you can while you still breathe.
Such is this game of life and death before crossing the threshold to bornless Whole, the One. You learn that it was never you that was weak, for only the choice can be that, never the chooser.
2024.05.03 01:42 realAtmaBodha Life, Death and the weakness of Evil
Until the human mind is liberated , it can only experience life through a dualistic lens. This makes writing about It more challenging, because the mind will want to categorize, catalogue and frame it based on what it regards as relatable. To someone who has been mind-locked their entire life, to contemplate a world outside the mind can feel daunting. To such a person, mind is the only reality and perhaps even love is an unknown feeling.
When love emerges within you, it is as if a fire is suddenly stoked within your chest. You find yourself falling, tumbling out of your mind and into your heart. Falling out of your mind this way is why they call it "falling in love." You realize at this point that you are more than the useful tool called mind. This is not enlightenment, but you have taken an important step toward authenticity and experiencing your deeper nature.
After you arrive at love, you may celebrate it, at first. But then you may discover empathy and feel the pain of others. Also, being lovestruck, you may play the fool guided by the whims of the heart, untethered to Truth. In such a way, you can be manipulated as a pawn in another's game. Heartbroken, you may find yourself in a different sort of cage. Retreating back to the mind, you may proclaim that you "don't care", and you would be right as minds don't care. But, you realize now that there is something more and so your mind is receptive to discovering more secrets about yourself. Or perhaps instead you turn toward temporary fixes and chase other highs. Why ? Because you feel incomplete. This is when evil enters you, making you feel its weakness and you, the chooser is tricked into believing this alien weak thing is you. Life is short, it says, so get what you can while you still breathe.
Such is this game of life and death before crossing the threshold to bornless Whole, the One. You learn that it was never you that was weak, for only the choice can be that, never the chooser.
submitted by realAtmaBodha to JordanPeterson [link] [comments]
When love emerges within you, it is as if a fire is suddenly stoked within your chest. You find yourself falling, tumbling out of your mind and into your heart. Falling out of your mind this way is why they call it "falling in love." You realize at this point that you are more than the useful tool called mind. This is not enlightenment, but you have taken an important step toward authenticity and experiencing your deeper nature.
After you arrive at love, you may celebrate it, at first. But then you may discover empathy and feel the pain of others. Also, being lovestruck, you may play the fool guided by the whims of the heart, untethered to Truth. In such a way, you can be manipulated as a pawn in another's game. Heartbroken, you may find yourself in a different sort of cage. Retreating back to the mind, you may proclaim that you "don't care", and you would be right as minds don't care. But, you realize now that there is something more and so your mind is receptive to discovering more secrets about yourself. Or perhaps instead you turn toward temporary fixes and chase other highs. Why ? Because you feel incomplete. This is when evil enters you, making you feel its weakness and you, the chooser is tricked into believing this alien weak thing is you. Life is short, it says, so get what you can while you still breathe.
Such is this game of life and death before crossing the threshold to bornless Whole, the One. You learn that it was never you that was weak, for only the choice can be that, never the chooser.
2024.05.03 01:42 Extra_Championship21 Why are my emotionally immature/unavailable parents hurting me so much?
I just had an interaction with both of my parents where I was diving deep into some of the experiences and traumas that I’ve experienced over the years. Unfortunately, this all happened at the dinner table. I responded by acknowledging their boundaries and thanked them for respecting mine, but soon after I went into my room and was uncontrollably sobbing for an hour.
My dad responded by establishing a boundary that he doesn’t want to discuss anything from the past at the dinner table (especially after he’s come home from work) and my mom couldn’t verbalize what boundaries she’d like you to set with me other than that it’s making her feel very anxious and uncomfortable.
For some context, my parents are both in the medical field and were always working shifts where one parent was home while the other was at their job and every other weekend we’d stay at my grandparents while they were both working for a day or so.
I was never aware of this unstable dynamic until I went to therapy and discovered that their relationship is toxically codependent abs that they were so busy seeking with their own issues that it came out as emotional avoidance and/or inadvertent outrage towards me. I truly started to internalize this when I came out as gay almost seven years ago and both of their responses expressed unconditional love and support but it turned into them being concerned about how their parents and our extended family members would respond. Especially since I decided to be upfront and honest about my sexual orientation via social media while knowing I would being seeing and/or talking to potential people who’d meet me with adversity for a significant amount of time.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with adversity from my peers but my parents decided to go ahead and inform my extended family members without asking and letting me know they were doing so. Nobody in my extended family has mentioned, judge and/or shame me for my sexual orientation but I’ve observed how they talk about and view members of the LGBTQ+ community and it hasn’t been very optimistic.
Anyways, this recent situation has caused me a lot of pain internally and it’s starting to show externally. I’m constantly comforting and reassuring myself that I am seen, heard and supported but I’m getting to the point where that isn’t enough and all I want is for my parents to acknowledge where I’m coming from and potentially give me the unconditional love that I feel they’ve only given me in certain circumstances.
With that being said, am I in the wrong for how I reacted? Is there any advice on how to handle being met with adversity from those you trust and hold closest to your heart?
Also, am I in the wrong for how I presented myself and reacted towards them? And/or am I just internalizing their reactions and acting upon my constant hypersensitive negative sentiment overdrive?
submitted by Extra_Championship21 to therapy [link] [comments]
My dad responded by establishing a boundary that he doesn’t want to discuss anything from the past at the dinner table (especially after he’s come home from work) and my mom couldn’t verbalize what boundaries she’d like you to set with me other than that it’s making her feel very anxious and uncomfortable.
For some context, my parents are both in the medical field and were always working shifts where one parent was home while the other was at their job and every other weekend we’d stay at my grandparents while they were both working for a day or so.
I was never aware of this unstable dynamic until I went to therapy and discovered that their relationship is toxically codependent abs that they were so busy seeking with their own issues that it came out as emotional avoidance and/or inadvertent outrage towards me. I truly started to internalize this when I came out as gay almost seven years ago and both of their responses expressed unconditional love and support but it turned into them being concerned about how their parents and our extended family members would respond. Especially since I decided to be upfront and honest about my sexual orientation via social media while knowing I would being seeing and/or talking to potential people who’d meet me with adversity for a significant amount of time.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with adversity from my peers but my parents decided to go ahead and inform my extended family members without asking and letting me know they were doing so. Nobody in my extended family has mentioned, judge and/or shame me for my sexual orientation but I’ve observed how they talk about and view members of the LGBTQ+ community and it hasn’t been very optimistic.
Anyways, this recent situation has caused me a lot of pain internally and it’s starting to show externally. I’m constantly comforting and reassuring myself that I am seen, heard and supported but I’m getting to the point where that isn’t enough and all I want is for my parents to acknowledge where I’m coming from and potentially give me the unconditional love that I feel they’ve only given me in certain circumstances.
With that being said, am I in the wrong for how I reacted? Is there any advice on how to handle being met with adversity from those you trust and hold closest to your heart?
Also, am I in the wrong for how I presented myself and reacted towards them? And/or am I just internalizing their reactions and acting upon my constant hypersensitive negative sentiment overdrive?
2024.05.03 01:40 LucasBeineke [NHRP Post #1][Progressive Core][Manaan/Cona] Mutually Beneficial
![[NHRP Post #1][Progressive Core][Manaan/Cona] Mutually Beneficial](https://preview.redd.it/11up3zqen3yc1.jpeg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=0161b95d9b0cd16fcebdb38f82db852235f99b45 "[NHRP Post #1][Progressive Core][Manaan/Cona] Mutually Beneficial") | Senator Hamato Xiono steps out of his relatively modest ship with his wife and his five-year-old son Kazuda, who ran down the ramp with a toy X-Wing, pretending it was blasting through hyperspace. “Kazuda. Stop that foolishness. There’s work to be done.” His father scolds him in a hushed manner as they are greeted by the Manaan ruling council, dressed in their aquatic robes. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, esteemed Senator.” Hamato nods with a smile. “The pleasure is all mine. There is much discuss here about your world.” He nods, as if to say it was time to begin work. “Of course, senator.” They lead him into a meeting room on Ahto City, the massive artificial island of surface dwellers. On the endless ocean’s horizons, speeder boats big and small dotted the sea. Hayashi Xiono smiled brightly in the natural sun line and breeze. Despite the family beginning to amass a small fortune and having the money to travel often, they rarely left the artficial climate of Hosnian Prime. Hamato was happy his wife was happy but kept a keen eye on his son as he ran about with his little toys. Hayashi was left to watch Kazuda, and Hamato, dressed in his typical green garb met with the council to appeal to their clearly NHRP lenient policies.Kazuda jumped up on the ledge of the city’s barrier right up against a large water zone pretending his little blue X-Wing was dodging TIE Fighter blasts, not paying attention to any of his surroundings. “Kazuda!” His mother calls as he slips and falls into the deep waters. Through his blurry water obscured line of sight he could see the millions of little lights below, filling and sprawling across the sea floor. It sort of looked like home if it were under water. He didn’t notice as the X-Wing sunk down into the depths leaving a trail of bubbles behind it, as his mother scooped him up in her arms and swam him to shore. He was too fascinated by the underwater city to comprehend his mother scolding him and then holding him close before leading him off to go get cleaned off. “Yes, Senator. We too find peace with the empire and its factions to be a wise step for the New Republic. The People of Manaan are in agreement on this, though we’ve yet to see your environmental polices for ourselves. As you know, the empire nearly did to our people what they did to many others when they stole our Kolto for themselves.” The Chief Justice, Gukesh Mar stated hopefully. The other members of the High Council, Storkisk Pikran, Shu Bigrass, Noth Wolgin, Tsolloss Cress, and Meask Suv all listened intently as Xiono smiles patiently. “Of course, esteemed council members. As you might know, the NHRP works closely with the RRN and Starlight Cooperative, and we all share a common ideal of preserving worlds and their ecosystems, even if it were to come at a high cost. You needn’t look any further than our very successful terraforming and green initiatives ha-pawning on worlds like Camaas and several worlds in the Mandalore Sector. In fact, we know how much value and time you and your people put into your environments, and intend to ask your help with one of your distant neighbors' worlds who’s suffering dearly. I’m sure you’ve heard of Cona? Well, the only source of natural water found on their world is in the roots of plants, which they spend most of their lives harvesting. Any imported water has been done so at an incredible cost.” Gukesh Mar seems to catch on. “You wish to siphon some of the water from our oceans in order to help others? You’re not here just to take our Kolto to have a supply of medicines for the virus that’s spreading?” *Xiono smiles.* “Of course not. The model of the High Republic wasn’t to hoard or monopolize resources to turn a profit. We just seek to help the worlds of those less fortunate than us. We’re a progressive party, as is your government, seeking to find peaceful and nod militaristic solutions too our problems, and help as any as we can. Even with the Kolto you have stocked, we’d go out of our way to help your people should you request it, and we feel the same about those who live on Cona. I’m sure you can see the impact it would have on their daily lives.” The High Council murmurs in agreement again. This is exactly what they wished to here. “We will certainly consider your offer, Senator Xiono, as we know you make good on your word. Your motions to decrease military spending have rung fruitful in the ears of our people. However, after learning of the situation on Cona, we would be very willing to help how we can.” The Chief Justice spoke, in a pleased tone. Councilman Wolgin speaks up after the Chief Justice finished his thoughts. “Though I must point out, Senator Xiono, that the water of our vast oceans is nearly all salinated, and required much processing before it would be of use to a species such as the Arconans.” Xiono nods, clearly expecting the questions and having planned his results. “Of course. The NHRP would never ask you of something this important if the proper channels weren’t being established. As we speak, water desalination plants are being constructed on Cona, free of charge to them of course, and their basic functions should be working within a few more weeks. In the meantime, the NHRP is working to cut imported water costs significantly to ensure they have access until we fill their reserves.” The council members seem very satisfied. After all, donating a few million gallons would even make a dent in the oceans, and even if it did, it was worth the cause. Hayashi Xiono was very proud of her husband and has been for as long as she could remember. He did truly good work for the New Republic, and the increase in pay certainly hadn’t disappointed her either. Within a year, they had gone from level five Hosnian Dwellers, to living in the sunlight of the political district on the top level. They could give Kazuda the education and life he deserved. The kid had never known poverty or even living paycheck to paycheck like they used to, and that made her more pleased than anything. Kazuda had been dried off and changed and now played with some of the other local children his age. Pantorans, Selkath, and other humans mostly. She was startled a little as her husband placed his hands on her shoulders from behind and kissed her forehead. “How did it go?” She asked hopefully. Hamato Smiled as he spoke in a tone he hadn’t had in some time. “Very well.” He watched as his son talked with the other kids. If he had known he was telling them stories of brave New Republic pilots, he would have scolded him. |
2024.05.03 01:40 realAtmaBodha Life, Death and the weakness of Evil
Until the human mind is liberated , it can only experience life through a dualistic lens. This makes writing about It more challenging, because the mind will want to categorize, catalogue and frame it based on what it regards as relatable. To someone who has been mind-locked their entire life, to contemplate a world outside the mind can feel daunting. To such a person, mind is the only reality and perhaps even love is an unknown feeling.
When love emerges within you, it is as if a fire is suddenly stoked within your chest. You find yourself falling, tumbling out of your mind and into your heart. Falling out of your mind this way is why they call it "falling in love." You realize at this point that you are more than the useful tool called mind. This is not enlightenment, but you have taken an important step toward authenticity and experiencing your deeper nature.
After you arrive at love, you may celebrate it, at first. But then you may discover empathy and feel the pain of others. Also, being lovestruck, you may play the fool guided by the whims of the heart, untethered to Truth. In such a way, you can be manipulated as a pawn in another's game. Heartbroken, you may find yourself in a different sort of cage. Retreating back to the mind, you may proclaim that you "don't care", and you would be right as minds don't care. But, you realize now that there is something more and so your mind is receptive to discovering more secrets about yourself. Or perhaps instead you turn toward temporary fixes and chase other highs. Why ? Because you feel incomplete. This is when evil enters you, making you feel its weakness and you, the chooser is tricked into believing this alien weak thing is you. Life is short, it says, so get what you can while you still breathe.
Such is this game of life and death before crossing the threshold to bornless Whole, the One. You learn that it was never you that was weak, for only the choice can be that, never the chooser.
submitted by realAtmaBodha to Soulnexus [link] [comments]
When love emerges within you, it is as if a fire is suddenly stoked within your chest. You find yourself falling, tumbling out of your mind and into your heart. Falling out of your mind this way is why they call it "falling in love." You realize at this point that you are more than the useful tool called mind. This is not enlightenment, but you have taken an important step toward authenticity and experiencing your deeper nature.
After you arrive at love, you may celebrate it, at first. But then you may discover empathy and feel the pain of others. Also, being lovestruck, you may play the fool guided by the whims of the heart, untethered to Truth. In such a way, you can be manipulated as a pawn in another's game. Heartbroken, you may find yourself in a different sort of cage. Retreating back to the mind, you may proclaim that you "don't care", and you would be right as minds don't care. But, you realize now that there is something more and so your mind is receptive to discovering more secrets about yourself. Or perhaps instead you turn toward temporary fixes and chase other highs. Why ? Because you feel incomplete. This is when evil enters you, making you feel its weakness and you, the chooser is tricked into believing this alien weak thing is you. Life is short, it says, so get what you can while you still breathe.
Such is this game of life and death before crossing the threshold to bornless Whole, the One. You learn that it was never you that was weak, for only the choice can be that, never the chooser.
2024.05.03 01:39 kayleelewis9 So I got a positive breath test result today
I was getting tested for a “Bacterial Overgrowth.” To my knowledge I thought this was going to be the h pylori, candida, methane trio test but it turns out this was just a general flora overgrowth. When the doctor called me, they told me this was an overgrowth of good bacteria and not something I would contract from an outside source like h pylori. They prescribed me Metronidazole (Flagyl) but why do I feel like antibiotics would cause more dysbiosis harm than good to my microbiome? For some reason I feel like this just doesn’t sit well with me like anyone could have a positive breath test and now I could do more harm than good… Not really sure what kind of response I’m aiming for just a little unsure about the problem being solved. Some background info: I’ve struggled with intense gas pains for a couple of years now with on and off constipation. They were happening 2-3 times a year so I didn’t feel it was an issue until recently they ramped up in frequency. After traveling to Jamaica recently I came home to my stomach in distress (diarrhea, gas pain episodes, and constipation) so I finally took the leap to see a GI for the first time. This morning I did an abdominal ultrasound (everything else looked good) and the bacterial overgrowth breath test
submitted by kayleelewis9 to SIBO [link] [comments]
2024.05.03 01:38 No_Cloud_7275 (Online) (5e) (Fridays 6pm EST) The World Awades: A Piratical Adventure
3,000 years ago the world ended; not in fire but in flood. In legends it is said that the last of the Emperor-Gods, envious that their global rule did not extend to the sea itself, conducted a foul ritual to swallow up the earth in its depth in rage. What few, scattered races remained were forced to adapt: seeking refuge in the mountains or canvassing together decrepit floating shanty-cities.
As time passed the waters began to recede and civilization began anew on fledgling coastlines, but the people never forgot the lessons the seas had taught them and maritime pursuits became as much a fact of life as breathing and eating. Now, in this new age, great galleons score the sea bringing new wealth to scattered coastal realms and exploring the ever-revealed world for new land and treasures of the Old Empire.
Your journey begins in the Arrovian Isles. Once a prison colony for the Kingdom of Andulac a generation ago, the prisoners took over the colony and now all the isles run rife with pirates and it is here your adventure takes place. The Arrovian Isles have all sorts rub shoulders together: from criminals, outcasts and fortune seekers, to free lovers, explorers and lost souls. There is room for many an adventure in these lands.
Your story begins as all good piratical stories should. With a mutiny. It was meant to be a routine job. As fellow officers aboard the Swordfish, you were escorting an archaeologist to the site of a fabled Eternal temple when your crew, moving as though in a trance, and led by your first mate, overwhelmed you and marooned you all on an uninhabited island. As you have released yourself from your bonds and have begun to explore this island, you have already begun to find signs of life and know you are not alone here.
It is a low point for you, but such are the fortunes of the Isles. A grand tale of adventure, treasure and tragedy now lies before you. Find your way off this island, track down the mutineers and take back your ship and destiny. And revenge? Well, that'd be nice too!
That's my little pitch for this game. To give further details I'm looking for a group of 4-5 fun, friendly people to play a 3-20 pirate themed campaign with. This group is LGBTQIA+ positive, discriminatory, bullying or generally dickish behaviour will not be tolerated, this game will have a healthy mix of roleplaying, combat and exploration and sessions will run for about 4 hours weekly.
If this campaign interests you please fill out a form below and I will be holding interviews with shortlisted applicants. Good luck to all who apply :)
https://forms.gle/SSorPY5aeNjRH3Dc7
submitted by No_Cloud_7275 to lfg [link] [comments]
As time passed the waters began to recede and civilization began anew on fledgling coastlines, but the people never forgot the lessons the seas had taught them and maritime pursuits became as much a fact of life as breathing and eating. Now, in this new age, great galleons score the sea bringing new wealth to scattered coastal realms and exploring the ever-revealed world for new land and treasures of the Old Empire.
Your journey begins in the Arrovian Isles. Once a prison colony for the Kingdom of Andulac a generation ago, the prisoners took over the colony and now all the isles run rife with pirates and it is here your adventure takes place. The Arrovian Isles have all sorts rub shoulders together: from criminals, outcasts and fortune seekers, to free lovers, explorers and lost souls. There is room for many an adventure in these lands.
Your story begins as all good piratical stories should. With a mutiny. It was meant to be a routine job. As fellow officers aboard the Swordfish, you were escorting an archaeologist to the site of a fabled Eternal temple when your crew, moving as though in a trance, and led by your first mate, overwhelmed you and marooned you all on an uninhabited island. As you have released yourself from your bonds and have begun to explore this island, you have already begun to find signs of life and know you are not alone here.
It is a low point for you, but such are the fortunes of the Isles. A grand tale of adventure, treasure and tragedy now lies before you. Find your way off this island, track down the mutineers and take back your ship and destiny. And revenge? Well, that'd be nice too!
That's my little pitch for this game. To give further details I'm looking for a group of 4-5 fun, friendly people to play a 3-20 pirate themed campaign with. This group is LGBTQIA+ positive, discriminatory, bullying or generally dickish behaviour will not be tolerated, this game will have a healthy mix of roleplaying, combat and exploration and sessions will run for about 4 hours weekly.
If this campaign interests you please fill out a form below and I will be holding interviews with shortlisted applicants. Good luck to all who apply :)
https://forms.gle/SSorPY5aeNjRH3Dc7
2024.05.03 01:33 FabulousArmadillo622 she (20f) doesn’t let me (22m) hear her voice
so i’ve been together with this girl for 3 months now and we really like each other, she makes me so happy and i do my best to make her happy. i’m from the US and she’s from europe. we’re on call a lot on discord and i have my mic and cam on because i want her to see and hear me but she almost never turns hers on. when we first started talking she didn’t want to because she was shy and nervous so i told her that’s fine i don’t mind.
we’ve gotten pretty close to each other and i feel like we’re really comfortable with each other as well but she still doesn’t turn her mic on. i still do really love reading her messages but it makes me feel lonely that i don’t get to hear her voice. i’ve told her this and said i want to feel more connected with her so we tried out gaming together with her mic on. i figured if we play a game together it would make her less nervous because she can just give me call outs in game so she doesn’t need to focus on a conversation.
we did that a couple days ago and it went well, she didn’t say much just a couple sentences but i loved every second of it. now whenever we play the game she has her mic on but she’s not saying anything anymore, she’s sending me messages mid game.
i understand she’s insecure about her voice but i do my best to reassure her. it makes me really sad i don’t get to hear her voice, she knows this and apologizes. she’s said that it makes her sad too because she does want to talk to me but she doesn’t know what to say. she says she’s really nervous around me still, she gets a lump in her throat when she wants to say something to me and needs to take a deep breath before speaking.
besides playing the game she doesn’t have her mic on, she just messages me. she has shared pictures with me so i do know what she looks like.
i’m just wondering what other people’s thoughts are on this, any advice on what i should do? does she need more time to get comfortable? i don’t want to push her too much but ever since i heard her voice i can’t stop thinking about it, i want to hear her more
submitted by FabulousArmadillo622 to LongDistance [link] [comments]
we’ve gotten pretty close to each other and i feel like we’re really comfortable with each other as well but she still doesn’t turn her mic on. i still do really love reading her messages but it makes me feel lonely that i don’t get to hear her voice. i’ve told her this and said i want to feel more connected with her so we tried out gaming together with her mic on. i figured if we play a game together it would make her less nervous because she can just give me call outs in game so she doesn’t need to focus on a conversation.
we did that a couple days ago and it went well, she didn’t say much just a couple sentences but i loved every second of it. now whenever we play the game she has her mic on but she’s not saying anything anymore, she’s sending me messages mid game.
i understand she’s insecure about her voice but i do my best to reassure her. it makes me really sad i don’t get to hear her voice, she knows this and apologizes. she’s said that it makes her sad too because she does want to talk to me but she doesn’t know what to say. she says she’s really nervous around me still, she gets a lump in her throat when she wants to say something to me and needs to take a deep breath before speaking.
besides playing the game she doesn’t have her mic on, she just messages me. she has shared pictures with me so i do know what she looks like.
i’m just wondering what other people’s thoughts are on this, any advice on what i should do? does she need more time to get comfortable? i don’t want to push her too much but ever since i heard her voice i can’t stop thinking about it, i want to hear her more
2024.05.03 01:31 Wildernasty Broken Clavicle! Can it heal?
31M, 180lbs, no previous breaks or conditions, bunch of regular vitamins and supplements, non-smoker, non drinker.
Hey Y’all! I know this happens all the time and people post asking similar questions. I am a week out from breaking my collarbone. I went in and got an x-ray yesterday and the surgeon said that this should heal up just fine and to come back in a week for another x-ray to make sure it’s stable. It currently feels pretty fine. No pain really, though there is some movement and popping and clicking when I walk around. I’ve been in a sling and shoulder immobilizer since day 0 and will continue to. Haven’t tried lifting this arm above resting and don’t plan to. What do you think about my X-ray? Seem like it could heal on its own?
submitted by Wildernasty to AskDocs [link] [comments]
Hey Y’all! I know this happens all the time and people post asking similar questions. I am a week out from breaking my collarbone. I went in and got an x-ray yesterday and the surgeon said that this should heal up just fine and to come back in a week for another x-ray to make sure it’s stable. It currently feels pretty fine. No pain really, though there is some movement and popping and clicking when I walk around. I’ve been in a sling and shoulder immobilizer since day 0 and will continue to. Haven’t tried lifting this arm above resting and don’t plan to. What do you think about my X-ray? Seem like it could heal on its own?
2024.05.03 01:30 WRickWrites Our Choices Make Us Human (Part 3) Genre: HFY
The planet was Gethsemane. The terraformers had wanted to make it into a paradise. The war had turned it into hell.
Gethsemane had been one of the more developed frontier worlds, with its own heavy industry and a population numbering in the hundreds of millions. That was lower now, of course, but it was still a vital strongpoint: whichever side held it could supply their forces across the sector from its output. The Krr'za'skrr - as the officers liked to call them - had landed on the eastern continent early in the war and dug in. The colonial forces had held onto the western and south-western continents, where most of the population and industry were, but they hadn't been able to dislodge the enemy beachhead. The campaign had ground on and on, lines moving back and forth. The shield umbrella was so extensive now you could probably walk from one side of the planet to the other without leaving its protection.
Extensive, but not unbroken. Every so often an attack would succeed in breaking through, take down the enemy shield emitters. That was never easy, of course; every emitter was heavily guarded by layers of trenches and bunkers, and built to withstand rockets, energy weapons, and EMPs. But it happened, and when it did the orbital bombardment would begin. Large parts of Gethsemane were either covered in fortifications, or pock-marked wasteland from where the fortifications had been erased by the ships in orbit.
I learned the rhythm of battle pretty quickly. Approach the shield terminus, where the energy barrier met the ground. Preferably from an angle where the enemy positions didn't have line of sight on you. Dig a hole underneath, without breaking the surface, and hope they don't see you do it. Shore up the hole, and excavate enough of a tunnel for two marines in armour to stand shoulder to shoulder; any narrower than that, and you won't be able to retreat. If you've got time, make it large enough to get a vehicle through, but you won't have time because the Knifers always react before then. That was the preferred military slang, by the way: Knifers. The Krr'za'skrr had a weird fetish for battle knives, and used them every opportunity they got.
Not that they didn't have plenty more dangerous weaponry. If you had time to get a tunnel under the shield at all, they'd likely show up before you'd got the whole platoon through. If they were really early you'd be forced back with grenades and rockets; ballistic artillery was useless because shells would just hit the shield, so you had to get quite close to use explosives. But if you had time to form a perimeter inside the shield umbrella, they would attack with energy rifles.
I knew those energy bolts all too well. I still had a little scar on my shoulder as a reminder of my first encounter with them.
Sometimes, they drove us back. Sometimes, we drove them back. The first few battles I was in were really just skirmishes. Then they sent us to the mountains. There was one, long mountain chain separating the western and eastern continents that formed a natural defence for the enemy to build their main fortification line. Two months into my tour on Gethsemane the navy finally got back full orbital control again, having fought several fleet battles to drive the enemy's ships out of the system. They never stayed away for long, so the brass decided now was time for a major ground offensive.
The original name for the mountains had been something dry and academic; 'Tectonic Formation Alpha', something like that. A some point during the long and bitter slaughter over them, someone had given them a real name: Golgotha.
I'd never seen mountains until that first dawn riding the transport shuttle out to the forward bases. You can't imagine what it was like to see the sun rising over the peaks for the first time, glinting off the ice. They said the Golgotha chain was higher than the Himalayas in places, although I'd never seen them either. All I knew was that in their shadow, suddenly all the vast might of the two opposing armies seemed small. We could kill each other here for a thousand years, and the mountains would still be there just the same as ever.
They gave us some perfunctory training in using oxygen masks. Then they sent us in.
First shield was easy. The roaches - sorry, but I'll never stop calling them that - knew we were coming, but command had disguised the build up and feinted towards the north the day before, drawing away their forces. We took them by surprise, and had three full platoons under the shield barrier before they realised what was going on. Once they opened up on us our short-range heavy mortars started firing to crater the ground, giving us cover. Then we advanced.
I was in a squad with Erin and Yukio, two boys called Garett and Eli we'd met in basic, and five more guys who were on their second tour, including the corporal, Lee. Never found out if that was a first name or a second name. We were the third squad under the shield, and we were able to get a good two hundred metres before the bolts of energy started hissing past us. Then, explosions, as the mortars blew up mushrooms of earth in front of us. We slid into the craters, took a breather, then started scrabbling up the opposite side. In position, we started firing, laying down cover for the squads behind us.
Crater, advance, crater, advance, until we were within a hundred metres of their shield emitter. Then there was an explosion inside the barriers protecting the emitter - not even sure whether it was a lucky mortar shot or one of our squads had made it inside - and the shield snapped off. One moment we were pushing forward, then we were running back, so the guns of the battleships in orbit could scrape the ground clean.
The next shields weren't so easy. The further up the mountain we went the harder it got. Several times we were forced to pull back and regroup. Once one of our squads didn't make it back to the tunnel before the enemy collapsed it with a grenade. I watched them from the other side of the shield, just a few metres away, as they were pushed back up against the almost invisible barrier, trapped, panicking and begging for help, before one by one they were cut down.
The enemy came forward to finish the last survivors with knives. I'd never seen them that close before, they were always just a shadow in the distance. Four spider-like legs, all connected to the same point at the bottom of the abdomen. Four arms, one pair on the abdomen and one pair on the torso. I couldn't see it under their armour but I knew their exoskeleton was black and chitinous, like a scorpion. I could see their faces. Their mouth-parts were almost wasp-like, but their eyes... they had four of them, two on either side of their head that were black, but the two that faced forward were disturbingly like ours.
The knives plunged into the dying marines. And they chanted: 'Krr'za'skrr, Krr'za'skrr!'
I don't know what they got out of that, but whatever it was those particular roaches didn't have time to enjoy it for long, because we popped that shield that afternoon. Then it was tunnel fighting, clearing out bunkers driven deep into the mountainside. Darkness and terror, pushing through narrow passages knowing that the enemy could be around any corner. I remembered what that felt like all too well.
First two days, our battalion took thirty percent casualties. Could have been worse. Our squad lost two guys, one missing a leg, one dead. Didn't know him well, but it was still tough watching the medics zip up the body bag. Replacements arrived with hours, and we kept pushing forward.
Third day, we were past the first mountain and in the valley beyond. Would have been a nice place, if you didn't need an oxygen mask to breath properly. The valley was covered by a single shield emitter sitting by a lake. We had to circle round the edge of the shield for quite a way before we found a spot that wasn't covered by the enemy's bunkers. The tunnelling started before dawn: six companies, over a thousand marines. We got maybe half of them through before the enemy realised it wasn't a feint, and counterattacked.
The air was so full of lights it was like they were putting on a firework display for us. Stick your head up out of the crater, and you'd get it shot off. That was what happened to Garett: he tried to take a peek, and then he fell back down with the top of his head missing. They had us pinned down pretty good at first and I thought that the officers would have to order the retreat back under the shield, but then the rocket launchers moved up and started taking out the heavy weapon nests. That gave us just enough breathing space to open up the bridgehead and start pushing them back.
It was still a slaughter. Diving from cover to cover, snapping off a few shots then having to get down as they turned the rapid fire energy blasters on you. I was lying on my back in a crater, watching bolts flicker past just a metre above my head and wondering why the hell I'd volunteered for this, when Erin shook my arm.
"What?", I asked, and then I saw what she was pointing at. Corporal Lee was on his back too, eyes wide staring up at the sky. Except he wasn't looking at anything anymore. Not with that big hole through his chest.
"What do we do?", she asked.
"We should go back.", Eli said. "Link up with another squad."
"No.", I said firmly. "That would just put us in the line of fire again, then we'd just be sent forward again anyway. We hold this position, wait for reinforcement."
Yukio was the only one still firing, bobbing up, snapping off a shot, then repositioning. Calmly and methodically, like she was still on the range back at basic. I pulled her down into the crater. I didn't want the enemy focusing on us, not while we were so exposed. Just hold this little salient, wait for the rest of the company to catch up, then we could start pushing forward again.
Except they didn't catch up. Instead, it was the enemy that started pushing forward, and I realised I'd fucked up, because it was now too late to go back: they were covering our escape route. The good news was that in order not to mow down their own soldiers, the heavy weapons had lightened up a bit. We could at least move now, and although going back was now off limits, the ground to our right sloped downwards, giving us some cover.
I told the others to get ready to make a break for it. Not everyone was convinced. "We should be heading back to the shield.", one of the older guys hissed at me. Marcos, I think his name was. "If we don't get back before the Knifers reach it..." He didn't need to finish that sentence, everyone knew you had no chance if the enemy reached the shield before you did.
"We won't make it if we try to go back.", I told him firmly. "We're too far forward. This is our only route out: we head that way...", I gestured to our right. "... get away from the main combat line here, and try to find a quieter spot to dig under the shield."
"Listen to her.", Erin backed me up. "She usually knows what she's talking about."
Did I? How did I know which path led to life, and which path led to death? Was I using the experience I'd gain in basic training and the weeks we'd already spent on Gethsemane to judge the best option? Or was I just throwing the dice?
How do you make that choice, knowing that if you choose wrong, you die?
"You guys do what you like.", said Yukio, deadpan as usual. "But I'm sticking with Leah."
Trusting in your friends is one way to choose. Wish I'd had that luxury, but I didn't, it was on me to make a decision. So I did.
I guess I'll never really know if I made the right call because I was smarter or because I got lucky. But one by one we rolled out of the crater and started sliding down the slope, towards the lake, keeping low as the sounds of weapons fire receded in the distance. The shores of the lake were overgrown with reeds and rushes, the perfect hiding place. I led us along the shoreline a little way, hoping that when I saw the route out it would be obvious.
Then I looked across the lake, and I had an idea.
"Have we got sandbags?", I asked. Sometimes one person per squad was issued a roll of plastic bags that could be used for field fortifications. Marcos raised his hand.
"What're you thinking?", Erin asked.
"I'm thinking about going for a swim."
Quickly, I explained my plan to them. We'd make the sandbags into flotation devices, using the oxygen from our tanks. We'd have to leave most of our gear behind, including our armour. Too heavy. Just take our weapons and our breathing gear. And some explosives. While the enemy were concentrating on pushing back the rest of the battalion to the shield, we'd paddle across the lake. Take it nice and slow, look like just a couple of pieces of driftwood. And hopefully any guards around the shield emitter on the opposite shore would be focused on the fighting in the distance, rather than eight jarheads wearing nothing but shorts and T-shirts.
Why did they choose to follow me? I had no authority, they could have left me to get myself killed and got back to base on their own. No one would have blamed them. But without even really arguing about it, they started stripping off and inflating the sandbags. The mood wasn't exactly confident, but I think we all felt the potential payoff was worth the risk. When you don't know what to choose, choose to do the right thing.
That lake was a lot bigger than it looked from the shoreline. Colder, too. Even in bright sunshine that fresh mountain water was not too far from freezing. But we made it across, to our surprise, although we weren't half as surprised as the guards on the wall around the shield emitter. We shot them down before they even noticed we were there, planted the demo charges, and then had to fight our way out.
Marcos got hit in the leg as we were pulling back. Clean shot, through the muscle, but he had to be carried out. Yukio, Eli and me stayed behind to keep the roaches back while the others carried Marcos out, Erin on point. I honestly thought that was going to be how I died. Once we'd given the others time to get clear I'd order Yukio and Eli out of there, then hold them back until the charges blew.
My stupid idea, so if anyone stayed behind it should be me. That was mostly what I was thinking. But there was a part of me that thought: if I got to choose how I died, this would be it. At least this was worth dying for. Not standing in half-finished trenches with a militia that barely knows how to fire their guns, facing an enemy you don't stand a chance against. Not huddled in a muddy alley, trying to shield your child. Not alone in the dark, terrified, as the monsters closed in. I wasn't looking for a family reunion, but if I did ever get to see my parents and my brother again, I wanted to be able to tell them that my death wasn't like theirs. My death meant something.
Then the roaches realised we'd already rigged the emitter to blow, and broke off their attack to try save it. I almost went after them to try and keep them from disarming the demo charges, but Yukio grabbed my shoulder.
"Nothing more we can do.", she said, like we were on mess duty scrubbing the kitchen. "Let's go."
We got back to the lake just in time to see the fireball burst up above the wall. Erin whistled, and laughed.
"Well that was easier than I expected."
"What were you expecting?", I asked.
"That we'd be dead by now."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Take it as a compliment.", she said. "Ain't just anyone I'd risk my ass for like that."
Still the best compliment I've ever received. Didn't have time to dwell on it, though, we had to paddle all the way back across the lake. It was the only safe way out of there, as fire began to rain down from the sky. Every few seconds we felt the shockwave of another orbital strike wash over our heads, and the ripple pass through the water beneath us. When we got to the other shore, we stared in awe at hell we'd let loose. What had started the day as a green mountain valley was now a flaming wasteland. Well, that's war for you.
Turned out the drill sergeants were right. I was corporal material after all. They gave me a medal to go with my promotion, too, although they had to pin it on me in the hospital because a week later I got shot up trying to clear a mountain tunnel. Nothing to serious, I was back on the line within a few days, but I was riding high after my big score and it was a much-needed reminder that I was still mortal.
The Golgotha campaign was a success. Finally, after years of stalemate, the lines on Gethsemane were moving again. I won't say it was all down to me, but I like to think I threw on a little of the extra weight that finally tipped the scale in our favour. At the end of our tour, they gave the whole battalion a campaign medal, but I was one of the few who were listed on the commendation rolls. I also got mentioned in a news report on a network that was interstellar; even people all the way back on Earth saw my name.
When I got back to Concord I put the medal in my private, off-base locker where I kept my mother's jewellery and Noah's blankey. I liked to think they would have been proud of me.
Yukio got sent off to sniper school as soon as we got back, and we didn't see her again for six months. By that point we were already fighting again on Caledonia Prime. That was a picnic compared to Golgotha. Back to Concord, then out again to Victoria. Then back and forth... Nuevo Leon, then Kongu Nadu, then... half a dozen other places. I've been bounced around the galaxy so much I've forgotten half the worlds I've fought on.
I made sergeant before I turned twenty one. Then first sergeant, then master sergeant. I'd like to say it was all down to talent, but it's easy to get promoted in a war that chews up people like a harvester threshing wheat. They're even talking about sending me to officer school. Not sure how I feel about that; I used to be quite a good student, back on New Montana, but school in the refugee camps didn't exactly leave me with an academic mindset. They say at twenty-five I'm still young enough to learn. Personally, I feel old as fuck.
It may be a moot point anyway. The war has shifted in our favour, we're retaking planet after planet. I'm told we even planted the flag on New Montana again, although I was on the other side of the sector, thankfully. More memories there than I care to deal with right now. We've even started pushing into enemy space; fighting on roach worlds is a whole new kind of warfare, but we've adapted. It may not be long now before they run out of holes to crawl into.
I don't know what I'll do if the war ends and I'm still alive. It never occurred to me that might happen. I'm not sure I could go back to civilian life, I've seen a hell of a lot of things no one should ever see. Then again, that was true before I joined up as well, and I found a way to cope.
You know one of the things that sticks with me, out of all the deaths and all the fear and all the insanity. On Nuevo Leon we captured a Krr'za'skrr footsoldier. He was missing a couple of limbs and he could barely sit up, because you don't capture them if they still have the strength to fight back, but he was alive and capable of talking. We had a translator built into the comm unit, so we asked him: why are you fighting us?
"Because the Hierarchy ordered us to."
We pushed him, tried to get him to explain the reason the Hierarchy gave him for the war. He didn't even understand the question. The Hierarchy didn't have to explain themselves to the likes of him: they ordered, and he obeyed. From what he said before he finally kicked the bucket, that was pretty much how ordinary roaches lived their whole lives: the bosses told them what to do and they did it. They weren't mindless drones: some missions they enjoyed and some they didn't. They liked getting a chance to use their knives, but they didn't like dying anymore than we did. Didn't matter much either way: the idea what they liked should have some influence on what they did was... well, an alien concept to them.
The roaches that killed my family didn't even know why they were doing it. They didn't choose to be there. They were just given their orders, and carried them out, and they had no idea that they could do anything differently.
How do you make a choice?
I've had a lot of time to think about that over the years, and all I can say is that you never know if you're making the right choice or not. But you can make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. That's what counts. Maybe I'll get out of the marines alive, and maybe I won't, but either way joining up was the best thing I ever did. I chose to put myself on the line for the people I cared about, and I'll never regret that.
Maybe you screw up some times, make some bad choices. It happens. But then you just try to do it right next time. The important thing is that you make a choice at all. That's what makes us human, and that's also why humanity is worth fighting for.
And it's why we're going to win.
submitted by WRickWrites to WRickWritesSciFi [link] [comments]
Gethsemane had been one of the more developed frontier worlds, with its own heavy industry and a population numbering in the hundreds of millions. That was lower now, of course, but it was still a vital strongpoint: whichever side held it could supply their forces across the sector from its output. The Krr'za'skrr - as the officers liked to call them - had landed on the eastern continent early in the war and dug in. The colonial forces had held onto the western and south-western continents, where most of the population and industry were, but they hadn't been able to dislodge the enemy beachhead. The campaign had ground on and on, lines moving back and forth. The shield umbrella was so extensive now you could probably walk from one side of the planet to the other without leaving its protection.
Extensive, but not unbroken. Every so often an attack would succeed in breaking through, take down the enemy shield emitters. That was never easy, of course; every emitter was heavily guarded by layers of trenches and bunkers, and built to withstand rockets, energy weapons, and EMPs. But it happened, and when it did the orbital bombardment would begin. Large parts of Gethsemane were either covered in fortifications, or pock-marked wasteland from where the fortifications had been erased by the ships in orbit.
I learned the rhythm of battle pretty quickly. Approach the shield terminus, where the energy barrier met the ground. Preferably from an angle where the enemy positions didn't have line of sight on you. Dig a hole underneath, without breaking the surface, and hope they don't see you do it. Shore up the hole, and excavate enough of a tunnel for two marines in armour to stand shoulder to shoulder; any narrower than that, and you won't be able to retreat. If you've got time, make it large enough to get a vehicle through, but you won't have time because the Knifers always react before then. That was the preferred military slang, by the way: Knifers. The Krr'za'skrr had a weird fetish for battle knives, and used them every opportunity they got.
Not that they didn't have plenty more dangerous weaponry. If you had time to get a tunnel under the shield at all, they'd likely show up before you'd got the whole platoon through. If they were really early you'd be forced back with grenades and rockets; ballistic artillery was useless because shells would just hit the shield, so you had to get quite close to use explosives. But if you had time to form a perimeter inside the shield umbrella, they would attack with energy rifles.
I knew those energy bolts all too well. I still had a little scar on my shoulder as a reminder of my first encounter with them.
Sometimes, they drove us back. Sometimes, we drove them back. The first few battles I was in were really just skirmishes. Then they sent us to the mountains. There was one, long mountain chain separating the western and eastern continents that formed a natural defence for the enemy to build their main fortification line. Two months into my tour on Gethsemane the navy finally got back full orbital control again, having fought several fleet battles to drive the enemy's ships out of the system. They never stayed away for long, so the brass decided now was time for a major ground offensive.
The original name for the mountains had been something dry and academic; 'Tectonic Formation Alpha', something like that. A some point during the long and bitter slaughter over them, someone had given them a real name: Golgotha.
I'd never seen mountains until that first dawn riding the transport shuttle out to the forward bases. You can't imagine what it was like to see the sun rising over the peaks for the first time, glinting off the ice. They said the Golgotha chain was higher than the Himalayas in places, although I'd never seen them either. All I knew was that in their shadow, suddenly all the vast might of the two opposing armies seemed small. We could kill each other here for a thousand years, and the mountains would still be there just the same as ever.
They gave us some perfunctory training in using oxygen masks. Then they sent us in.
First shield was easy. The roaches - sorry, but I'll never stop calling them that - knew we were coming, but command had disguised the build up and feinted towards the north the day before, drawing away their forces. We took them by surprise, and had three full platoons under the shield barrier before they realised what was going on. Once they opened up on us our short-range heavy mortars started firing to crater the ground, giving us cover. Then we advanced.
I was in a squad with Erin and Yukio, two boys called Garett and Eli we'd met in basic, and five more guys who were on their second tour, including the corporal, Lee. Never found out if that was a first name or a second name. We were the third squad under the shield, and we were able to get a good two hundred metres before the bolts of energy started hissing past us. Then, explosions, as the mortars blew up mushrooms of earth in front of us. We slid into the craters, took a breather, then started scrabbling up the opposite side. In position, we started firing, laying down cover for the squads behind us.
Crater, advance, crater, advance, until we were within a hundred metres of their shield emitter. Then there was an explosion inside the barriers protecting the emitter - not even sure whether it was a lucky mortar shot or one of our squads had made it inside - and the shield snapped off. One moment we were pushing forward, then we were running back, so the guns of the battleships in orbit could scrape the ground clean.
The next shields weren't so easy. The further up the mountain we went the harder it got. Several times we were forced to pull back and regroup. Once one of our squads didn't make it back to the tunnel before the enemy collapsed it with a grenade. I watched them from the other side of the shield, just a few metres away, as they were pushed back up against the almost invisible barrier, trapped, panicking and begging for help, before one by one they were cut down.
The enemy came forward to finish the last survivors with knives. I'd never seen them that close before, they were always just a shadow in the distance. Four spider-like legs, all connected to the same point at the bottom of the abdomen. Four arms, one pair on the abdomen and one pair on the torso. I couldn't see it under their armour but I knew their exoskeleton was black and chitinous, like a scorpion. I could see their faces. Their mouth-parts were almost wasp-like, but their eyes... they had four of them, two on either side of their head that were black, but the two that faced forward were disturbingly like ours.
The knives plunged into the dying marines. And they chanted: 'Krr'za'skrr, Krr'za'skrr!'
I don't know what they got out of that, but whatever it was those particular roaches didn't have time to enjoy it for long, because we popped that shield that afternoon. Then it was tunnel fighting, clearing out bunkers driven deep into the mountainside. Darkness and terror, pushing through narrow passages knowing that the enemy could be around any corner. I remembered what that felt like all too well.
First two days, our battalion took thirty percent casualties. Could have been worse. Our squad lost two guys, one missing a leg, one dead. Didn't know him well, but it was still tough watching the medics zip up the body bag. Replacements arrived with hours, and we kept pushing forward.
Third day, we were past the first mountain and in the valley beyond. Would have been a nice place, if you didn't need an oxygen mask to breath properly. The valley was covered by a single shield emitter sitting by a lake. We had to circle round the edge of the shield for quite a way before we found a spot that wasn't covered by the enemy's bunkers. The tunnelling started before dawn: six companies, over a thousand marines. We got maybe half of them through before the enemy realised it wasn't a feint, and counterattacked.
The air was so full of lights it was like they were putting on a firework display for us. Stick your head up out of the crater, and you'd get it shot off. That was what happened to Garett: he tried to take a peek, and then he fell back down with the top of his head missing. They had us pinned down pretty good at first and I thought that the officers would have to order the retreat back under the shield, but then the rocket launchers moved up and started taking out the heavy weapon nests. That gave us just enough breathing space to open up the bridgehead and start pushing them back.
It was still a slaughter. Diving from cover to cover, snapping off a few shots then having to get down as they turned the rapid fire energy blasters on you. I was lying on my back in a crater, watching bolts flicker past just a metre above my head and wondering why the hell I'd volunteered for this, when Erin shook my arm.
"What?", I asked, and then I saw what she was pointing at. Corporal Lee was on his back too, eyes wide staring up at the sky. Except he wasn't looking at anything anymore. Not with that big hole through his chest.
"What do we do?", she asked.
"We should go back.", Eli said. "Link up with another squad."
"No.", I said firmly. "That would just put us in the line of fire again, then we'd just be sent forward again anyway. We hold this position, wait for reinforcement."
Yukio was the only one still firing, bobbing up, snapping off a shot, then repositioning. Calmly and methodically, like she was still on the range back at basic. I pulled her down into the crater. I didn't want the enemy focusing on us, not while we were so exposed. Just hold this little salient, wait for the rest of the company to catch up, then we could start pushing forward again.
Except they didn't catch up. Instead, it was the enemy that started pushing forward, and I realised I'd fucked up, because it was now too late to go back: they were covering our escape route. The good news was that in order not to mow down their own soldiers, the heavy weapons had lightened up a bit. We could at least move now, and although going back was now off limits, the ground to our right sloped downwards, giving us some cover.
I told the others to get ready to make a break for it. Not everyone was convinced. "We should be heading back to the shield.", one of the older guys hissed at me. Marcos, I think his name was. "If we don't get back before the Knifers reach it..." He didn't need to finish that sentence, everyone knew you had no chance if the enemy reached the shield before you did.
"We won't make it if we try to go back.", I told him firmly. "We're too far forward. This is our only route out: we head that way...", I gestured to our right. "... get away from the main combat line here, and try to find a quieter spot to dig under the shield."
"Listen to her.", Erin backed me up. "She usually knows what she's talking about."
Did I? How did I know which path led to life, and which path led to death? Was I using the experience I'd gain in basic training and the weeks we'd already spent on Gethsemane to judge the best option? Or was I just throwing the dice?
How do you make that choice, knowing that if you choose wrong, you die?
"You guys do what you like.", said Yukio, deadpan as usual. "But I'm sticking with Leah."
Trusting in your friends is one way to choose. Wish I'd had that luxury, but I didn't, it was on me to make a decision. So I did.
I guess I'll never really know if I made the right call because I was smarter or because I got lucky. But one by one we rolled out of the crater and started sliding down the slope, towards the lake, keeping low as the sounds of weapons fire receded in the distance. The shores of the lake were overgrown with reeds and rushes, the perfect hiding place. I led us along the shoreline a little way, hoping that when I saw the route out it would be obvious.
Then I looked across the lake, and I had an idea.
"Have we got sandbags?", I asked. Sometimes one person per squad was issued a roll of plastic bags that could be used for field fortifications. Marcos raised his hand.
"What're you thinking?", Erin asked.
"I'm thinking about going for a swim."
Quickly, I explained my plan to them. We'd make the sandbags into flotation devices, using the oxygen from our tanks. We'd have to leave most of our gear behind, including our armour. Too heavy. Just take our weapons and our breathing gear. And some explosives. While the enemy were concentrating on pushing back the rest of the battalion to the shield, we'd paddle across the lake. Take it nice and slow, look like just a couple of pieces of driftwood. And hopefully any guards around the shield emitter on the opposite shore would be focused on the fighting in the distance, rather than eight jarheads wearing nothing but shorts and T-shirts.
Why did they choose to follow me? I had no authority, they could have left me to get myself killed and got back to base on their own. No one would have blamed them. But without even really arguing about it, they started stripping off and inflating the sandbags. The mood wasn't exactly confident, but I think we all felt the potential payoff was worth the risk. When you don't know what to choose, choose to do the right thing.
That lake was a lot bigger than it looked from the shoreline. Colder, too. Even in bright sunshine that fresh mountain water was not too far from freezing. But we made it across, to our surprise, although we weren't half as surprised as the guards on the wall around the shield emitter. We shot them down before they even noticed we were there, planted the demo charges, and then had to fight our way out.
Marcos got hit in the leg as we were pulling back. Clean shot, through the muscle, but he had to be carried out. Yukio, Eli and me stayed behind to keep the roaches back while the others carried Marcos out, Erin on point. I honestly thought that was going to be how I died. Once we'd given the others time to get clear I'd order Yukio and Eli out of there, then hold them back until the charges blew.
My stupid idea, so if anyone stayed behind it should be me. That was mostly what I was thinking. But there was a part of me that thought: if I got to choose how I died, this would be it. At least this was worth dying for. Not standing in half-finished trenches with a militia that barely knows how to fire their guns, facing an enemy you don't stand a chance against. Not huddled in a muddy alley, trying to shield your child. Not alone in the dark, terrified, as the monsters closed in. I wasn't looking for a family reunion, but if I did ever get to see my parents and my brother again, I wanted to be able to tell them that my death wasn't like theirs. My death meant something.
Then the roaches realised we'd already rigged the emitter to blow, and broke off their attack to try save it. I almost went after them to try and keep them from disarming the demo charges, but Yukio grabbed my shoulder.
"Nothing more we can do.", she said, like we were on mess duty scrubbing the kitchen. "Let's go."
We got back to the lake just in time to see the fireball burst up above the wall. Erin whistled, and laughed.
"Well that was easier than I expected."
"What were you expecting?", I asked.
"That we'd be dead by now."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Take it as a compliment.", she said. "Ain't just anyone I'd risk my ass for like that."
Still the best compliment I've ever received. Didn't have time to dwell on it, though, we had to paddle all the way back across the lake. It was the only safe way out of there, as fire began to rain down from the sky. Every few seconds we felt the shockwave of another orbital strike wash over our heads, and the ripple pass through the water beneath us. When we got to the other shore, we stared in awe at hell we'd let loose. What had started the day as a green mountain valley was now a flaming wasteland. Well, that's war for you.
Turned out the drill sergeants were right. I was corporal material after all. They gave me a medal to go with my promotion, too, although they had to pin it on me in the hospital because a week later I got shot up trying to clear a mountain tunnel. Nothing to serious, I was back on the line within a few days, but I was riding high after my big score and it was a much-needed reminder that I was still mortal.
The Golgotha campaign was a success. Finally, after years of stalemate, the lines on Gethsemane were moving again. I won't say it was all down to me, but I like to think I threw on a little of the extra weight that finally tipped the scale in our favour. At the end of our tour, they gave the whole battalion a campaign medal, but I was one of the few who were listed on the commendation rolls. I also got mentioned in a news report on a network that was interstellar; even people all the way back on Earth saw my name.
When I got back to Concord I put the medal in my private, off-base locker where I kept my mother's jewellery and Noah's blankey. I liked to think they would have been proud of me.
Yukio got sent off to sniper school as soon as we got back, and we didn't see her again for six months. By that point we were already fighting again on Caledonia Prime. That was a picnic compared to Golgotha. Back to Concord, then out again to Victoria. Then back and forth... Nuevo Leon, then Kongu Nadu, then... half a dozen other places. I've been bounced around the galaxy so much I've forgotten half the worlds I've fought on.
I made sergeant before I turned twenty one. Then first sergeant, then master sergeant. I'd like to say it was all down to talent, but it's easy to get promoted in a war that chews up people like a harvester threshing wheat. They're even talking about sending me to officer school. Not sure how I feel about that; I used to be quite a good student, back on New Montana, but school in the refugee camps didn't exactly leave me with an academic mindset. They say at twenty-five I'm still young enough to learn. Personally, I feel old as fuck.
It may be a moot point anyway. The war has shifted in our favour, we're retaking planet after planet. I'm told we even planted the flag on New Montana again, although I was on the other side of the sector, thankfully. More memories there than I care to deal with right now. We've even started pushing into enemy space; fighting on roach worlds is a whole new kind of warfare, but we've adapted. It may not be long now before they run out of holes to crawl into.
I don't know what I'll do if the war ends and I'm still alive. It never occurred to me that might happen. I'm not sure I could go back to civilian life, I've seen a hell of a lot of things no one should ever see. Then again, that was true before I joined up as well, and I found a way to cope.
You know one of the things that sticks with me, out of all the deaths and all the fear and all the insanity. On Nuevo Leon we captured a Krr'za'skrr footsoldier. He was missing a couple of limbs and he could barely sit up, because you don't capture them if they still have the strength to fight back, but he was alive and capable of talking. We had a translator built into the comm unit, so we asked him: why are you fighting us?
"Because the Hierarchy ordered us to."
We pushed him, tried to get him to explain the reason the Hierarchy gave him for the war. He didn't even understand the question. The Hierarchy didn't have to explain themselves to the likes of him: they ordered, and he obeyed. From what he said before he finally kicked the bucket, that was pretty much how ordinary roaches lived their whole lives: the bosses told them what to do and they did it. They weren't mindless drones: some missions they enjoyed and some they didn't. They liked getting a chance to use their knives, but they didn't like dying anymore than we did. Didn't matter much either way: the idea what they liked should have some influence on what they did was... well, an alien concept to them.
The roaches that killed my family didn't even know why they were doing it. They didn't choose to be there. They were just given their orders, and carried them out, and they had no idea that they could do anything differently.
How do you make a choice?
I've had a lot of time to think about that over the years, and all I can say is that you never know if you're making the right choice or not. But you can make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. That's what counts. Maybe I'll get out of the marines alive, and maybe I won't, but either way joining up was the best thing I ever did. I chose to put myself on the line for the people I cared about, and I'll never regret that.
Maybe you screw up some times, make some bad choices. It happens. But then you just try to do it right next time. The important thing is that you make a choice at all. That's what makes us human, and that's also why humanity is worth fighting for.
And it's why we're going to win.
2024.05.03 01:28 Inks-And-Idioms Obsidian for Law School
I was asked to explain how I've used Obsidian while being in Law School...
How I've Organized
I have a main folder for each topic (Torts, Legal Writing, Legislation & Regulation, Civil Procedure, Contracts, Constitutional Law, Criminal Law)
Within those main folders I have sub-folders based off of the syllabus provided by ea. professor.
Within those subfolders I'll have individual notes. Those notes could be from the class lecture, and many are individualized notes on the cases I needed to read. This way I can focus on "one thing at a time" and then link notes later or while I'm typing in a class note.
Things that have helped
One of the biggest aids was a new appearance theme. I'm currently using AnuPpuccin, and I've loved it, but I recently discovered MagicUser, and I'll be switching to that next semester. The reason why is because when you also have Style Settings downloaded, you can modify a lot of the visual aspects without having to be a whiz with CSS files/Snippets. That'll come in time the more you play around with it, but I digress... The theme as you adjust the theme, you can set the colors, sizes, and underlines of your headers. This helped me because the color coding helps pull my eye to certain places.
Templater is another community plugin that is massively helpful. When you know what kinds of metadata you want for certain notes, you can set it up with templater so that particular templates auto generate when you create a new note within specific folders. This is one of those "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of pain" sort of deals.
While I'm on the subject, I guess I'll just put in some of my favorite community plugins
First off are my newest "Must Haves" - User TFThacker (https://tfthacker.com/Welcome) has two plugins for purchase, one of which has been crucial lately: Cornell Notes and Tufte Side Notes. If you have ever used the Cornell Notes method, this is the next best thing to the handwritten way. The other is Canvas Candy which incredible of you like visual notes. Either way, I purchased the Cornell Notes + Tufte Side notes, and I loved it so much I went and bought Canvas Candy to show support, and it's been great when working on Criminal Law flow charts of Majority Rule/Minority Rule/MPC pathways.
Additionally, TFThacker has created some other plugins that are second to none: Strange New Worlds, Text Transporter, WordNet Dictionary, HelpMate and AI for Templater. These are so great when helping navigate and find your connections.
Here is a list of other plugins I have installed, without diving too deep into why I have them.
submitted by Inks-And-Idioms to ObsidianMD [link] [comments]
How I've Organized
I have a main folder for each topic (Torts, Legal Writing, Legislation & Regulation, Civil Procedure, Contracts, Constitutional Law, Criminal Law)
Within those main folders I have sub-folders based off of the syllabus provided by ea. professor.
Within those subfolders I'll have individual notes. Those notes could be from the class lecture, and many are individualized notes on the cases I needed to read. This way I can focus on "one thing at a time" and then link notes later or while I'm typing in a class note.
Things that have helped
One of the biggest aids was a new appearance theme. I'm currently using AnuPpuccin, and I've loved it, but I recently discovered MagicUser, and I'll be switching to that next semester. The reason why is because when you also have Style Settings downloaded, you can modify a lot of the visual aspects without having to be a whiz with CSS files/Snippets. That'll come in time the more you play around with it, but I digress... The theme as you adjust the theme, you can set the colors, sizes, and underlines of your headers. This helped me because the color coding helps pull my eye to certain places.
Templater is another community plugin that is massively helpful. When you know what kinds of metadata you want for certain notes, you can set it up with templater so that particular templates auto generate when you create a new note within specific folders. This is one of those "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of pain" sort of deals.
While I'm on the subject, I guess I'll just put in some of my favorite community plugins
First off are my newest "Must Haves" - User TFThacker (https://tfthacker.com/Welcome) has two plugins for purchase, one of which has been crucial lately: Cornell Notes and Tufte Side Notes. If you have ever used the Cornell Notes method, this is the next best thing to the handwritten way. The other is Canvas Candy which incredible of you like visual notes. Either way, I purchased the Cornell Notes + Tufte Side notes, and I loved it so much I went and bought Canvas Candy to show support, and it's been great when working on Criminal Law flow charts of Majority Rule/Minority Rule/MPC pathways.
Additionally, TFThacker has created some other plugins that are second to none: Strange New Worlds, Text Transporter, WordNet Dictionary, HelpMate and AI for Templater. These are so great when helping navigate and find your connections.
Here is a list of other plugins I have installed, without diving too deep into why I have them.
- Advanced Slides - A great way to make simple slides without having to go to a new app/program
- Advanced Tables - Streamlines making tables and takes away the trouble of using markdown
- Chronology - let's you know when was the last time you accessed a note
- Colored Text - I prefer this over highlighting
- Commander - Amazing ways to quickly get around
- Continuous Mode - For law school, this has been nice to take a semester's worth of notes and create a view where I can just scroll down in one pane, while outlining in the other.
- Dataview - I need work here, but I suspect it can be *MASSIVELY* useful for queries where I want specific data pulled into one area (i.e., commerce clause cases)
- Excalidraw - OP plugin... watch the videos from the creator and from Nicole Van Der Hoeven. Here's the link to her channel (https://www.youtube.com/@nicolevdh), her videos along with Nick Milo's (https://www.youtube.com/@linkingyourthinking) helped a ton
- Excalibrain - another way to see the links between notes; it delineates between "parents, children, siblings, and friends" when it creates the relationships for notes.
- Floating TOC - I sometimes disable this because in certain situations the plugin "Outliner" works better, but I have it downloaded
- Folder Notes (I have this because it syncs harmoniously with Waypoint, and Waypoint has already saved my bacon)
- Helpmate - So So good! Allows you to but the Obsidian Help website in your side menu
- Hover Editor - I use this daily. Hover over an embedded link, and a hover widow appears. You can then edit directly within that window if you so choose. I've used it for quick reminders of case notes I've created.
- List Callouts - I have this installed, but the native custom bullets/callouts for both AnupPuccin and MagicUser are better
- MAKE.md - Another way of using Obsidian, but a bit more moldable. Traditionally all of your folders and notes are arranged alphabetically, but MAKE.md allows you to bypass that ... and there are some other things too.
- Omnisearch - A better way to search
- Outliner - Creates an automatic outline within your side menu. I have found that this sometimes is better than the Floating TOC, but that is always task specific.
- PDF++ -> Wish I knew about this earlier. Drop a PDF into your vault, and then you can view it, and pull text from it without having to readjust the text formatting later... so great.
- Plugin update tracker - not necessary, but it's been nice. This allows you to use your bottom menu to see if an update if available, and you can then update instantly from there without having to go into your settings menu
- Projects - Still debating if I'm going to keep this
- QuickAdd - I don't know if I need this either
- Recent Files - super helpful when your scrambling to find "that note you were just working on"
- Semantic Canvas and Advanced Canvas - Plugins to make Canvas work "better" - I don't know if you need them for TFTHacker's Canvas Candy... but I have them anyways.
- Smart Typography - not necessary, but nice sometimes. It'll change certain text items into different dashes or curly quotes, which can be modified as you see fit.
- Style Settings - Needed to adjust certain aesthetic elements in other plugins.
- Templater - Already stated above, but believe me, it's incredible
- Text Extractor - A (companion) plugin to facilitate the extraction of text from images (OCR) and PDF's.... I think it's necessary
- Text Generator - Generate text content using GPT-3... I've never actually use this...
- Text Transporter - another TFT Hacker plugin which I use often. Advanced text tools for working with text in your vault.
- Tracker - Track occurrences and numbers in your notes.
- Unofficial Supernote by Ratta Integration - I haven't used this YET, but it's a way to utilize your handwritten notes in obsidian
- Waypoint - SO CRUCIAL for Outlining in Law School and linking notes. When you have a main folder, create a "folder note" using the app above. This will have the identical name of the folder, and then add "%% Waypoint %%" (omit the quotations) in that note. This will create a living index of everything in your folder. If you have subfolders, you can create a new folder note for those sub-folders, but in those folder notes you type %% Landmark %% instead. This will allow you to have nested sub-notes in your original Waypoint... So simple, but WOW did it help me this semester.
- Wordnet Dictionary - TFT Hacker's Dictionary connection.
2024.05.03 01:27 deadislandman1 Suicide Squad #40 - New Blood
DC Next presents:
Arc: A New World
Written by Deadislandman1
Edited by ClaraEclair
“For the last time, I need you to-”
“Relax Commandant! We’re seasoned veterans, right Mayo?”
“She’s right, we’ve been doing this for a while.”
“Experience doesn’t matter here, chain of command does…and stop calling me Commandant!”
“Whatever, Commandant.”
“You…You….AAAARGH!”
In the back of a race car themed van, complete with flame decals and the face of a famous racer painted onto the side, a man with blonde hair cut to a military standard raged, screaming at a monitor. He ripped a pair of headphones off of his ears, revealing a series of shrapnel based scars running along the right side of his upper head, forcing his right eye into a permanent squint. Throwing the headphones against the van walls, he growled, hanging his head in frustration.
Of all the jobs that would befall Lok, why this one? He just had to spring for the super secret agency when it came to promotions.
A decade in the CIA, working undercover from Austria to Australia, Cape Town to Cambridge, Daegu to Delhi. He’d had lighter assignments, surveillance that didn’t put him in harm's way, and he’d had jobs that took him into the line of fire for days on end. He’d laid in the mud for hours to stay undetected, camouflaged as platoons worth of men trod across the ground next to him. He’d run across rooftops, bullets blazing by, each one able to deliver death in an instant.
He’d shoved a teammate out of the way as a grenade came tumbling down a staircase, the explosion unleashing shards of metal that took his right ear clean off. He’d been in a coma for five years, eating, pissing, and shitting through a tube. He had to learn how to speak, walk, run, and act like a human being again over the course of a year. He learned that his family gave up on him and moved on, and that only taxpayer money kept him alive in the hopes of preserving the knowledge in his head.
After all of that…he chose field work, because it was all he had left, and his reward was babysitting two maniacs who didn’t know how to take orders.
Rubbing his eyes, Lok sighed, “Uuugh….alright Lok…pull yourself together…pull yourself together. It’s been a while. This is only your third op in a commanding position in…in nearly a decade…You have the experience, you have the fortitude…even if you’re being asked to herd wild cats into a cage. This isn’t impossible…you just have to…rethink your strategies.”
Taking a deep breath, Lok trudged over to his headphones, putting them back on. The right side was shattered, cracked, not that it mattered. He couldn’t use that ear anyways. Sitting down at the monitor yet again, he angled the microphone back over his mouth, “Alright, lets-”
“Is the Commandant’s temper tantrum finished?”
Lok gritted his teeth, “Let’s....refocus. Mayo, give me a detailed description of the situation, and please remind me of what your mission is…in case the two of you have forgotten it.”
“Uuuuuhh…Let’s see.”
Mitchell Mayo, dressed in blue and purple disco getup, peeked his head out of the bathroom, gazing into the chaotic maelstrom of a warehouse rave. Multi-Colored spotlights, crudely affixed to the ceiling, casted neon lights across the dance floor, giving the entire room a purplish hue. Dozens of people across the warehouse were throwing their arms in the air, swinging their bodies in chaotic dance while packed together like bundles of hay. Squinting, Mayo did his best to adjust for his lack of depth perception, given the eyepatch over his left eye. Scratching his head, he ducked back inside, careful not to let his long mane of hair get caught on the door before putting his hand up to his earpiece, “Well, everyone’s still dancing. I count a little under a hundred people from where I am, mostly in their early to late twenties. Makes me feel a little awkward but hey, that’s the mission.”
“I can do without the personal anecdotes,” Lok remarked. “Keep going.”
“They’ve got the disco lights…but they’re not very stable looking. One could fall at any moment,” Mayo said.
“Might be a combat option if things turn out that way,” Lok said.
“Yeah…I hope not though. These people don’t seem too bad,” Mayo said.
“And where’s your partner? Where’s Quinn?” Lok asked.
“I’m getting myself and Mayo a drink! The gal at the bar really knows what she’s doing!” Harley chimed.
“You’re….ugh…whatever. Whatever makes you happy. Mayo, do you have any updates on the target, the mission?” Lok asked.
“Well…not yet. It’d be hard to spot old Jervis Tetch in a crowd of normal sized people. He isn’t exactly of…average height,” Mayo said.
“Then get in the crowd, or find a vantage point. He’s somewhere around here, we know he is.”
Mayo cringed, “Well….do we?”
“...Mayo, if you’re going to start yanking my chain-”
“No no, listen! I promise you, I’m not messing with you.”
Mayo looked towards the bathroom door, then at the rest of the bathroom, making sure it was empty, “Tetch was always a weird one, and trust me, I know Waller’s sources are typically pretty legit. I totally believe that her computer people picked up a signal identical to Tetch’s mind control tech, and that the tech itself is legit. It’s just…Tetch wouldn’t come all the way to LA. He’s a Gothamite through and through! This place is too hot and fast for him, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Plus…a warehouse rave just isn’t his style. He’s more likely to crash a masquerade ball or something like that. This place just…doesn’t feel like him.”
“That might be so, but there are also some other trends that do line up. Tetch is always looking for someone to be his Alice, and these places tend to get a lot of young women,” Lok noted. “Maybe this isn’t his new hunting ground. Maybe he’s just here to nab someone and get out. Either way, he’s a danger, and his skillset could be put to better use than stalking young women.”
Mayo grimaced, “And um…if it’s not him?”
“Then whoever has this tech is still a danger. Mission still stands, find whoever has the tech and bring them in,” Lok ordered.
Sighing, Mayo took one last moment to collect himself before adventuring out into the rave, the pulsating music far too loud for his ears. He could never stand stuff as loud and constant as a concert or a sports game, it was just too much for his ears to handle. Sure, it meant that absolutely everyone within a mile of the place could hear the music, but on the other hand it made conversation nearly impossible. You had to scream at the top of your lungs, and even then you’d maybe only get two out of three words to the person right next to you. Some would say that people come to a rave to dance, not to talk, but that didn’t exactly help Mayo’s current situation in the slightest.
Slowly, he made his way through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone or get knocked over by a stray arm. It’d been months since his brush with death, which resulted in the loss of his second favorite eye. Since then, he’d mostly recovered, and had gone on more than a few missions, sticking close to his partner in crime. It’s never really been all that easy, but with the support of the rest of the Squad, he’s made it through alright. Flag always kept watch over him, taking extra care to keep him safe, which might be why Waller set Mayo up with a different CO this time. To Mayo, it seemed like she wanted to make sure Flag’s protective nature didn’t override the mission.
But even without Flag, Mayo still had Harley. When he first became a minor player in Gotham City’s maddening merry-go-round of villains, he never expected that he’d not only be respected by Harley, but be loved by her. He’d never felt so strongly about anyone else in his entire life, even his own parents. She uplifted and supported him in ways nobody else ever did, and he did the same for her. Hell, he’d practically given his life for her a few times already.
Things weren’t okay often, but whenever he was with her, it got close.
Pushing through one more group, Mayo finally made it to the bar, spotting Harley as she chatted up the bartender, who had just finished making two bluish drinks contained in cheap red cups. Spotting Mayo, Harley smiled before placing one of them in his hands, “Hey Mitch! The Lady said these are her specialty! I managed to get em made without the alc, seeing as we’re on the job!”
Mayo grinned, “Aw, thanks Harls.”
Mayo took a swig of the drink, which was frankly foul even in its virgin form. Still, he choked it down to remain polite, then patted Harley on the arm, taking a look out at the rest of the crowd, “I feel kinda bad about Lok.”
“What? Psshh…Why?”
“I dunno, seems a little dickish to screw with him like this. I know we don’t have a rapport with him like with Flag but…I dunno, the guy’s not our enemy.”
“Sure…but he’s also not accustomed to the kind of stuff we get up to. He’s gotta learn to roll with the punches. Besides, I've been scouting the place out like he said.”
Mayo looked to Harley, puzzled, “But…but…then why do you keep telling him you’re just screwing around?”
“Listen, we don’t know this Lok guy, like you said. We don’t know how he performs under pressure. This is my way of testing the waters, seeing how he handles something not going this way when we’re not all about to die. If he went all control freak on us, we know where his lines are and where not to cross them. If just lets us walk all over him, we know we’re on our own. Right now, he’s just kinda dealing with it, trying to compromise. Means he can work well with us!” Harley rubbed her chin, “Sure, we’re giving him grief now, but think about how happy he’ll be when he learns we actually did our job!”
Mayo raised an eyebrow, “I…question the logic of that…but you know what, at least we’re still doing what we’re supposed to be doing. You find any trace of Tetch?”
“Nope, and I think we both know this ain’t his kind of place,” Harley scanned the crowd. “Guy’s not the rave type.”
“Yup…Guess that leaves us with a bigger question though. There were definitely traces of Tetch’s tech here, so who the hell is messing around with it?”
“I dunno, but we gotta watch out for ‘em. Only people who like mind control are the freaks and the creeps.”
Mayo nodded, and was about to respond when a specific tune entered his ear. A snap and a ring, the chiming of a bell, followed by the rattle of drums and the smacking of gums. Against his will, he did a spin, his hand twisting to keep the entirety of his drink within the cup. Tapping his feet, he found himself pulled into the crowd, prompting Harley to follow with wide eyes, “Woah! Check out the sick moves! Never seen you dance like that, Mayo!”
“Not…trying…too!”
In a single moment, Harley’s joy turned to concern, which turned to trepidation as the entire room suddenly stamped their feet all at once. The music hadn’t stopped. No, it seemed louder and more invasive than ever before.
A real earworm in a sense.
Slowly, Harley felt herself get swept up in the music, her ears ringing with a sadistic, sinister glee as she took Mayo’s hands, dancing along with him as the rest of the room parted in a rhythmic motion. The two tossed and turned, their bodies moving of their own accord as the crowd moved with them, spinning and jumping while keeping them encircled. The two tried to break free, but it was like their minds were submerged in icy water, the signals that should tell their arms and legs to move lost on the way down.
The two stuck a flash pose together, with Harley bent forward while Mayo leaned back, kept from falling by Harley’s embrace. Harley locked eyes with Mayo, terrified. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she wasn’t in control. Mayo would be shaking if he had the ability to do so, and the fact that he couldn’t made him all the more scared. In a blink, the crowd parted again, and a figure stepped through to greet Mayo and Harley.
He was well dressed for someone at a rave, decked out in a three piece suit of the black and white variety. He sported a pair of tap shoes and slicked back hair practically drenched in the grease you’d get at an old-timey barber’s shop. He smelled strongly of some kind of wood themed perfume, and sported a bushy, well trimmed and maintained mustache. Grinning, he fiddled with something underneath his right sleeve before circling Mayo and Harley, “Two Dancers, Two Interlopers. Normally, I’d be a little ticked by an intrusion like this, but I can forgive it.”
Leaning forward, he whispered into the duo’s ears, “After all…I do love a double act!”
Next Issue: Make way for the Music Meister!
submitted by deadislandman1 to DCNext [link] [comments]
Suicide Squad
Issue Forty: New BloodArc: A New World
Written by Deadislandman1
Edited by ClaraEclair
“For the last time, I need you to-”
“Relax Commandant! We’re seasoned veterans, right Mayo?”
“She’s right, we’ve been doing this for a while.”
“Experience doesn’t matter here, chain of command does…and stop calling me Commandant!”
“Whatever, Commandant.”
“You…You….AAAARGH!”
In the back of a race car themed van, complete with flame decals and the face of a famous racer painted onto the side, a man with blonde hair cut to a military standard raged, screaming at a monitor. He ripped a pair of headphones off of his ears, revealing a series of shrapnel based scars running along the right side of his upper head, forcing his right eye into a permanent squint. Throwing the headphones against the van walls, he growled, hanging his head in frustration.
Of all the jobs that would befall Lok, why this one? He just had to spring for the super secret agency when it came to promotions.
A decade in the CIA, working undercover from Austria to Australia, Cape Town to Cambridge, Daegu to Delhi. He’d had lighter assignments, surveillance that didn’t put him in harm's way, and he’d had jobs that took him into the line of fire for days on end. He’d laid in the mud for hours to stay undetected, camouflaged as platoons worth of men trod across the ground next to him. He’d run across rooftops, bullets blazing by, each one able to deliver death in an instant.
He’d shoved a teammate out of the way as a grenade came tumbling down a staircase, the explosion unleashing shards of metal that took his right ear clean off. He’d been in a coma for five years, eating, pissing, and shitting through a tube. He had to learn how to speak, walk, run, and act like a human being again over the course of a year. He learned that his family gave up on him and moved on, and that only taxpayer money kept him alive in the hopes of preserving the knowledge in his head.
After all of that…he chose field work, because it was all he had left, and his reward was babysitting two maniacs who didn’t know how to take orders.
Rubbing his eyes, Lok sighed, “Uuugh….alright Lok…pull yourself together…pull yourself together. It’s been a while. This is only your third op in a commanding position in…in nearly a decade…You have the experience, you have the fortitude…even if you’re being asked to herd wild cats into a cage. This isn’t impossible…you just have to…rethink your strategies.”
Taking a deep breath, Lok trudged over to his headphones, putting them back on. The right side was shattered, cracked, not that it mattered. He couldn’t use that ear anyways. Sitting down at the monitor yet again, he angled the microphone back over his mouth, “Alright, lets-”
“Is the Commandant’s temper tantrum finished?”
Lok gritted his teeth, “Let’s....refocus. Mayo, give me a detailed description of the situation, and please remind me of what your mission is…in case the two of you have forgotten it.”
“Uuuuuhh…Let’s see.”
Mitchell Mayo, dressed in blue and purple disco getup, peeked his head out of the bathroom, gazing into the chaotic maelstrom of a warehouse rave. Multi-Colored spotlights, crudely affixed to the ceiling, casted neon lights across the dance floor, giving the entire room a purplish hue. Dozens of people across the warehouse were throwing their arms in the air, swinging their bodies in chaotic dance while packed together like bundles of hay. Squinting, Mayo did his best to adjust for his lack of depth perception, given the eyepatch over his left eye. Scratching his head, he ducked back inside, careful not to let his long mane of hair get caught on the door before putting his hand up to his earpiece, “Well, everyone’s still dancing. I count a little under a hundred people from where I am, mostly in their early to late twenties. Makes me feel a little awkward but hey, that’s the mission.”
“I can do without the personal anecdotes,” Lok remarked. “Keep going.”
“They’ve got the disco lights…but they’re not very stable looking. One could fall at any moment,” Mayo said.
“Might be a combat option if things turn out that way,” Lok said.
“Yeah…I hope not though. These people don’t seem too bad,” Mayo said.
“And where’s your partner? Where’s Quinn?” Lok asked.
“I’m getting myself and Mayo a drink! The gal at the bar really knows what she’s doing!” Harley chimed.
“You’re….ugh…whatever. Whatever makes you happy. Mayo, do you have any updates on the target, the mission?” Lok asked.
“Well…not yet. It’d be hard to spot old Jervis Tetch in a crowd of normal sized people. He isn’t exactly of…average height,” Mayo said.
“Then get in the crowd, or find a vantage point. He’s somewhere around here, we know he is.”
Mayo cringed, “Well….do we?”
“...Mayo, if you’re going to start yanking my chain-”
“No no, listen! I promise you, I’m not messing with you.”
Mayo looked towards the bathroom door, then at the rest of the bathroom, making sure it was empty, “Tetch was always a weird one, and trust me, I know Waller’s sources are typically pretty legit. I totally believe that her computer people picked up a signal identical to Tetch’s mind control tech, and that the tech itself is legit. It’s just…Tetch wouldn’t come all the way to LA. He’s a Gothamite through and through! This place is too hot and fast for him, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Plus…a warehouse rave just isn’t his style. He’s more likely to crash a masquerade ball or something like that. This place just…doesn’t feel like him.”
“That might be so, but there are also some other trends that do line up. Tetch is always looking for someone to be his Alice, and these places tend to get a lot of young women,” Lok noted. “Maybe this isn’t his new hunting ground. Maybe he’s just here to nab someone and get out. Either way, he’s a danger, and his skillset could be put to better use than stalking young women.”
Mayo grimaced, “And um…if it’s not him?”
“Then whoever has this tech is still a danger. Mission still stands, find whoever has the tech and bring them in,” Lok ordered.
Sighing, Mayo took one last moment to collect himself before adventuring out into the rave, the pulsating music far too loud for his ears. He could never stand stuff as loud and constant as a concert or a sports game, it was just too much for his ears to handle. Sure, it meant that absolutely everyone within a mile of the place could hear the music, but on the other hand it made conversation nearly impossible. You had to scream at the top of your lungs, and even then you’d maybe only get two out of three words to the person right next to you. Some would say that people come to a rave to dance, not to talk, but that didn’t exactly help Mayo’s current situation in the slightest.
Slowly, he made his way through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone or get knocked over by a stray arm. It’d been months since his brush with death, which resulted in the loss of his second favorite eye. Since then, he’d mostly recovered, and had gone on more than a few missions, sticking close to his partner in crime. It’s never really been all that easy, but with the support of the rest of the Squad, he’s made it through alright. Flag always kept watch over him, taking extra care to keep him safe, which might be why Waller set Mayo up with a different CO this time. To Mayo, it seemed like she wanted to make sure Flag’s protective nature didn’t override the mission.
But even without Flag, Mayo still had Harley. When he first became a minor player in Gotham City’s maddening merry-go-round of villains, he never expected that he’d not only be respected by Harley, but be loved by her. He’d never felt so strongly about anyone else in his entire life, even his own parents. She uplifted and supported him in ways nobody else ever did, and he did the same for her. Hell, he’d practically given his life for her a few times already.
Things weren’t okay often, but whenever he was with her, it got close.
Pushing through one more group, Mayo finally made it to the bar, spotting Harley as she chatted up the bartender, who had just finished making two bluish drinks contained in cheap red cups. Spotting Mayo, Harley smiled before placing one of them in his hands, “Hey Mitch! The Lady said these are her specialty! I managed to get em made without the alc, seeing as we’re on the job!”
Mayo grinned, “Aw, thanks Harls.”
Mayo took a swig of the drink, which was frankly foul even in its virgin form. Still, he choked it down to remain polite, then patted Harley on the arm, taking a look out at the rest of the crowd, “I feel kinda bad about Lok.”
“What? Psshh…Why?”
“I dunno, seems a little dickish to screw with him like this. I know we don’t have a rapport with him like with Flag but…I dunno, the guy’s not our enemy.”
“Sure…but he’s also not accustomed to the kind of stuff we get up to. He’s gotta learn to roll with the punches. Besides, I've been scouting the place out like he said.”
Mayo looked to Harley, puzzled, “But…but…then why do you keep telling him you’re just screwing around?”
“Listen, we don’t know this Lok guy, like you said. We don’t know how he performs under pressure. This is my way of testing the waters, seeing how he handles something not going this way when we’re not all about to die. If he went all control freak on us, we know where his lines are and where not to cross them. If just lets us walk all over him, we know we’re on our own. Right now, he’s just kinda dealing with it, trying to compromise. Means he can work well with us!” Harley rubbed her chin, “Sure, we’re giving him grief now, but think about how happy he’ll be when he learns we actually did our job!”
Mayo raised an eyebrow, “I…question the logic of that…but you know what, at least we’re still doing what we’re supposed to be doing. You find any trace of Tetch?”
“Nope, and I think we both know this ain’t his kind of place,” Harley scanned the crowd. “Guy’s not the rave type.”
“Yup…Guess that leaves us with a bigger question though. There were definitely traces of Tetch’s tech here, so who the hell is messing around with it?”
“I dunno, but we gotta watch out for ‘em. Only people who like mind control are the freaks and the creeps.”
Mayo nodded, and was about to respond when a specific tune entered his ear. A snap and a ring, the chiming of a bell, followed by the rattle of drums and the smacking of gums. Against his will, he did a spin, his hand twisting to keep the entirety of his drink within the cup. Tapping his feet, he found himself pulled into the crowd, prompting Harley to follow with wide eyes, “Woah! Check out the sick moves! Never seen you dance like that, Mayo!”
“Not…trying…too!”
In a single moment, Harley’s joy turned to concern, which turned to trepidation as the entire room suddenly stamped their feet all at once. The music hadn’t stopped. No, it seemed louder and more invasive than ever before.
A real earworm in a sense.
Slowly, Harley felt herself get swept up in the music, her ears ringing with a sadistic, sinister glee as she took Mayo’s hands, dancing along with him as the rest of the room parted in a rhythmic motion. The two tossed and turned, their bodies moving of their own accord as the crowd moved with them, spinning and jumping while keeping them encircled. The two tried to break free, but it was like their minds were submerged in icy water, the signals that should tell their arms and legs to move lost on the way down.
The two stuck a flash pose together, with Harley bent forward while Mayo leaned back, kept from falling by Harley’s embrace. Harley locked eyes with Mayo, terrified. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she wasn’t in control. Mayo would be shaking if he had the ability to do so, and the fact that he couldn’t made him all the more scared. In a blink, the crowd parted again, and a figure stepped through to greet Mayo and Harley.
He was well dressed for someone at a rave, decked out in a three piece suit of the black and white variety. He sported a pair of tap shoes and slicked back hair practically drenched in the grease you’d get at an old-timey barber’s shop. He smelled strongly of some kind of wood themed perfume, and sported a bushy, well trimmed and maintained mustache. Grinning, he fiddled with something underneath his right sleeve before circling Mayo and Harley, “Two Dancers, Two Interlopers. Normally, I’d be a little ticked by an intrusion like this, but I can forgive it.”
Leaning forward, he whispered into the duo’s ears, “After all…I do love a double act!”
2024.05.03 01:26 Delicious-Feed7141 10 Year Old Root Canal Having Pain
Hello, in an anxious situation. Recently since last Sunday I woke up with pain when biting down and putting pressure on one of my back molars on the right side (tooth #30). On Sunday, there would be basically no pain at all if I was just talking or had my mouth closed, and there would only be pain when biting down, no pain if I pushed the molar from the sides with my tongue. However, since a few days has passed, the pain has increased that its not jarringly painful but I can now feel a dull pain when I'm not doing anything.
Today I went to the dentist and they took some x-rays, and they said that there has been a reinfection deep in the root and that I would need to do an extraction and bone grath ($780 for extraction + bone grath after insurance). This makes me really anxious because that means I will also have to do an impant in the future which will be really expensive and I have to probably wait a few months before I can get the implant and I already don't have the same back molar on the left side because I had to get that tooth extracted when I was 8 so it will be difficult to chew.
TDLR: Old root canal is having pain and dentist said I have to extract it but I just wanted to get a second opinion from you guys to see if there is anyway I could save the tooth.
submitted by Delicious-Feed7141 to askdentists [link] [comments]
Today I went to the dentist and they took some x-rays, and they said that there has been a reinfection deep in the root and that I would need to do an extraction and bone grath ($780 for extraction + bone grath after insurance). This makes me really anxious because that means I will also have to do an impant in the future which will be really expensive and I have to probably wait a few months before I can get the implant and I already don't have the same back molar on the left side because I had to get that tooth extracted when I was 8 so it will be difficult to chew.
TDLR: Old root canal is having pain and dentist said I have to extract it but I just wanted to get a second opinion from you guys to see if there is anyway I could save the tooth.
2024.05.03 01:25 WRickWrites Our Choices Make Us Human (Part 1) Genre: HFY
And now for something completely different. Another one off, this time a more... well, I don't want to say darker, but not quite so comfy as the Amia. It's not quite as long as last week's story but it's still a bit long. As I was writing I thought to myself: 'you know, I could write a whole novel about this girl'. And although I know myself well enough to know I'd never actually finish a novel, I'd still like to know if anyone likes this as much as I do.
*
How do you make a choice?
Do you reason it out, weigh every element, consider every path? Or do you trust your gut. Trust yourself, take a leap of faith. Or maybe, you simply flip a coin.
How do you make a choice between life and death, when you don't know which is which?
Sometimes I wonder why my parents chose to settle on New Montana. It was never exactly a land of milk and honey. The terraforming was only barely holding on, and civilization consisted of a couple of small towns and isolated farmsteads. Maybe they thought it had potential, that at some point the ecology would stabilise and towns would become cities and the cities would become rich. Maybe they thought about the future we would have there, my little brother and me. But still, I wonder what they were running from, when they left Earth.
And I wonder why they chose to stay when the war started, and New Montana became a frontline colony. Maybe they believed in the cause. Maybe they didn't have anywhere else to go. Looking back, I wonder if they simply never really thought that the war would reach us...
It was my mother that woke me that night. I think I was already half awake; I remember hearing the rumbling in the distance, like a distant storm. Then, my mother's hand on my shoulder, shaking me out of sleep.
"They're here. Leah, wake up, they're here."
I was Leah Ingrid Olsson, I was thirteen years old, and I'd lived my entire life on New Montana. And everything I knew was about to end.
"Wha...", I mumbled, still barely awake. "Who's here? What's going on?"
"The Krr'za'skrr. They've landed outside the shield, we have to go."
The what? I turned the unfamiliar syllables over in my mind. Then it hit me. We had half a dozen slang names for them, the other kids and me: kurries, roaches, knifers, and so on. Their real name was too hard for us to pronounce, but somehow with everything else going on my mother said it perfectly, and it hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
They were here. The aliens.
They'd come to destroy the colony.
We'd been doing evacuation drills at school since the war started three years earlier. I'd done so many that to me, as a child, they seemed like just a normal part of life. If the attack had come while I was at school I'd probably have gone through the motions by rote, lining up with the other children and heading for the nearest bunker. But at home, at night, with my mother shaking me and the sound of explosions in the distance...
"Leah, get up! We need to go!" My mother's whisper was urgent, on the verge of begging. But I was frozen, gripping my bed covers, willing this to be just another nightmare. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't...
Then there was an explosion much closer, close enough to rattle the windows. And a moment later I heard my little brother crying from the next room. Somehow, that was what made it real for me.
"I'm up, I'm up. Go get Noah."
I threw the covers off as my mother rushed to get my brother. What do I need? What do I need? The question went round and round in my head. I was only wearing a T-Shirt and shorts, and the first thing I thought of was I should get my bra, because that's what I always did when I got up. It was stupid - it wasn't as if I even needed it back then - but that's what your mind does when you're panicking. Fixates on the little, easy thing, so you don't have to think about the big, terrifying thing going on outside. I grabbed my hairbrush, because in those days my long, blonde hair tangled like tumbleweed the moment my head touched a pillow.
Then the windows shook again and I finally snapped out of it. I had to get out of here, now. I ran into the hallway, and in the dark I almost knocked my mother over. She was carrying Noah, who had his face buried in her shoulder. He didn't have his blankey. He was four years old and he never went anywhere without his blankey, and I wanted to go and get it for him, but there was no time. There was no time.
They were here.
I slipped my pink running shoes on, and my mother grabbed my hand and dragged me out into the night.
The first thing I felt was the cold, as the night air bit into me. The first thing I saw was the flames. The storage tanks at the edge of the town were on fire and casting orange light and flickering shadows out across the streets and homes. A man ran past, at a full sprint, so quick he was gone before I could even think to ask him what was happening.
Where were the enemy? How many, what direction? Where was safe?
Then I finally thought to ask: "Where's dad?"
"With the militia."
He'd left without even saying goodbye. I imagine that moment sometimes, when I have too much time on my hands. When the alert came through on his phone, and he realised the day he'd spent three years praying would never come was finally here. How did he react? Calm, collected? 'I have to get to the armoury, you take the kids to the shelter'. Or did he freeze up like I did, sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, until my mother had to shake him, remind him of his duty. Did he think he was going to die, or did he tell himself it was probably just a false alarm? The latter, it must have been.
He never said goodbye. It would only have taken a second.
My mother gripped my hand like a vise and led me through the maze of alleys. Cheaper to build houses small and close together. Half the streets were nothing but dirt tracks, and it had rained earlier, so it wasn't long before I had mud streaks splashed up my bare legs.
It was so dark. The enemy must have used an EMP on the town; the power grid was out and not even the security lights above people's doors were on. The only light to see by was the flames rising in the distance.
Not so far away now, though. I could smell the smoke on the air, feel it stinging the back of my throat.
Street by street, winding our way towards the shelter for our section of town. It wasn't a big town, only about thirty thousand people, but it was strange how empty the streets were. Our house was near the outskirts of town, a poor neighbourhood even for New Montana. Most people must have already made it to the bunker.
Or they never found the nerve to leave their homes, and sat there in the dark, waiting for the enemy to reach them.
It started to rain again. We turned a corner and then suddenly my mother yanked my arm. Pulled me back into the shadow of the building. I was about to complain, whine about how she hurt my wrist. Then I heard the sound of footsteps, splashing through the mud. And the snap-hiss of an energy rifle being fired.
The fires cast shadows down the street, past the mouth of the alley. Long shadows. Shadows with too many arms, too many legs.
Quietly, praying Noah wouldn't so much as a whimper, we went back the way we'd come. Circling round, trying to find a route to the shelter that that was safe. More pitch-dark streets, more blacked out buildings, round and round until even though I'd lived in this town my whole life I wasn't sure where we were. I wasn't sure my mother knew either.
Every so often another person would appear out of the darkness for a moment and disappear again just as fast. Once or twice I heard shouts, like militia calling out orders. And a couple of times I heard screams. But other than that, just the wind-driven rain rippling across the rooftops, and the sound of distant gunfire.
We passed bodies, face down in the mud. I tried not to look. When Noah turned his head I stepped into his eyeline and smiled like nothing was wrong. "Don't be scared. We're just going to the shelter, like in the drills.", I whispered. "Don't look at the street, just look at me."
"'kay, Le.'
"I love you."
"Love you too."
Every corner we came to we stopped, peeking round quickly, darting back. Every couple of turns, we found the way we needed to go was blocked. Silhouettes that only bore a passing resemblance to the pictures on the propaganda posters, advancing through the town.
Then we came to one of the main streets. One that actually had paving. I knew we had to cross it, there was nowhere to go this time if we went back the way we'd come. They were closing in around us.
The snap-hiss of weapons fire greeted us, and I stopped short as energy bolts flickered past the mouth of the alley. My mother tried to drag me back again but this time I pulled my hand away and crouched down by the edge of the building.
There was a barricade down the street. Two half-tracks pulled across to block whatever was advancing from the other side. A couple of men, militia, firing from behind the meagre cover. I don't think my father was one of them but I'll never know. I only glanced for a moment, but it was long enough to see a man fall, a glowing hole through his torso. The crackling bolts cut lines of steam through the rain, whipping down the street in front of us.
Dead end. We couldn't go on, we couldn't go back.
How do you make that choice? Run out into gunfire, or go back and maybe meet the enemy advancing through the streets towards us? One path leads to death, one path leads to life, but there's no riddle you can solve
to tell you which is which. You just have to choose without knowing.
How do you make that choice? I knew there were enemies behind us, moving up. I didn't know what was on the other side of the street, and I didn't know if I could make it without being caught in the crossfire. But at least there would be a chance.
I gestured across the street, but my mother shook her head. "We have to!", I shouted, but she wouldn't move.
I ran for it. I felt my mothers fingers snatch at the hem of my shirt, but too slow; they slipped away.
Then I was out in the open. An energy bolt blinked passed right in front of me and stopped short. Took a step... lights flashing all around me, I froze. I almost turned back. Then something in me snapped, and I ran the last few metres to cover.
An energy bolt just grazed my shoulder as I reached the mouth of the alley. I half-spun, tripped, and landed face first in the mud.
But I made it.
I propped myself up on my elbows, then scrambled into a crouch. I was soaked - rain, mud, my own blood. But I made it.
I thought my mother would follow if she saw me make it. If she saw it could be done. She wouldn't leave me alone, she'd have to follow. She'd have to, she wouldn't leave me...
In the darkness on the other side of the street, past the flashing lines of energy, I could see her. Crouching, holding Noah tight against her body. I beckoned to her, but she wouldn't move. I started to get desperate. Glancing round the corner, seeing the bodies pile up at the barricade. I knew it was only moments before the enemy smashed through and came this way.
I stood there waiting for my mother to make the sprint across. Then in growing disbelief as I realised she wasn't going to do it. I think I was crying; or maybe it was the rain streaming down my cheeks. I'd left my little brother behind. That was what made me sick to my stomach: I should have grabbed him from my mother and run across with him. I wanted to go back, but I knew there was no way I'd make it across twice.
The enemy were breaking through the barricade. I was out of time. One last time I beckoned my mother to follow me. But instead, she turned away. I think that was her way of giving me permission. She knew she'd left it too late, but I still had a chance.
I hung there for another moment, a part of me not believing I could really do it.
Then I left them and ran, alone, into the night.
There were fewer of the enemy on that side of the settlement, but I still I almost ran into them a couple of times. No way I could get to a shelter, not now. I couldn't make it to the entrance and even if I did they'd be sealed shut by now. So I headed for the scrap yard on the edge of town. I played there with the other kids, I knew it well enough to find my way around even in the dark. It wasn't just old bits of metal and a couple of cars, there were stacks of old industrial machinery and farm equipment, saved to be cannibalised for parts. Plenty of places to hide.
I half expected it to be crawling with aliens, but it was deserted. The battle became flashes of light in the distance, punctuated by thunder. Just another storm, to shelter from until it passed by. I crawled into the outflow of an old harvester, and sat there, dripping wet and shivering.
And then I started to sob. Because my mother wasn't there, sure. And my dad. There was a part of me that was quite certain I'd never see either of them again. But mostly because I'd left Noah. I'd left my little brother behind. I could have grabbed him, I could have...
I must have fallen asleep at some point. I'd pulled the hatch of the outflow pipe closed when I got in, or closed as far as it would go, so it was almost warm from my body heat. I blinked my eyes, then sneezed; there were still dried up husks of wheat everywhere. My shoulder burned a little from where I'd been grazed, but it didn't seem too bad.
Then I realised that through the gap where the hatch didn't quite close, I could see light.
It was dawn.
I went to open the hatch. Then I realised that if any of the fucking roaches were anywhere near I'd be committing suicide. I waited a moment, then realised I really needed to pee. I thought about doing it out the hatch, but maybe that would give me away, so I crawled as far into the harvester as I could and did it there. Then I waited.
I waited all day. I tried to keep myself occupied by singing my favourite songs but I didn't dare make any noise so I just sang them in my head. Other than that, all I did was pee again, and tried to ignore the pain in my shoulder. I kept waiting until a few hours after nightfall, then when I didn't hear anything outside I crept out and drank some of the water that had collected a hub cap. Then I crawled back into my hiding place, and waited.
Four days. That was how long it took for me to get so hungry I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't hear sounds of fighting anymore, but although I dreamed about going home and finding everything the way it was with just a few scorch marks on the walls and the militia and my dad were heroes because they'd fought off the roaches...
That was just a dream. I was pretty sure that there was no fighting because the roaches had won.
But I figured it was better to take the risk than die of starvation. So I waited until it got dark again, and started trudging back towards town. There was a part of me that didn't even care if I got killed. The lights were still out and I was able to slip into the narrow streets without any chance anyone who wasn't looking specifically saw me. Automatically, I started heading for home. Then I realised how stupid that was, and picked the nearest door. Unlocked.
Empty house. Like everyone else, the occupants had left in a hurry. There were muddy prints on the floor, so someone must have been through here recently, but I couldn't tell who they belonged to. Either way there wasn't so much as a whisper, so I headed for the kitchen and started shovelling food out of the cupboards and into a plastic bag.
Then I heard a noise. I froze, but then I realised it was coming from out in the street, maybe some way off. A rumbling, growling noise, like heavy machinery running.
My first instinct was to hide. My second instinct was to run back to the scrapyard. But instead, I left the food behind and started creeping through the alleys towards the noise. Because it meant there was something still alive here. Probably the roaches; I knew it was a really bad idea, but I had to see. In my mind's eye, I saw a pen full of prisoners, and my parents and my little brother jammed in with the rest of the town, and if I could find something to cut the wires I could sneak them out...
I heard voices, and dived into cover in an open garage, shaking because I realised just how stupid I'd been. Everyone knew the roaches didn't take prisoners. I could just have gone back to the scrapyard with the food, but now I was stuck here, and if they found me, they would shoot me dead on sight. Or save me for their knives.
Ten minutes, fifteen. I curled up under a work bench and prayed, prayed, that whatever was out there would pass by. Instead, the voices got closer. I waited, and I waited, until I could barely breathe any more...
Then I realised the voices were speaking English. And cautiously, I crept out of my hiding place.
Colonial Marines. It was over. I was safe.
Continued here: Our Choices Make Us Human (Part 2)
submitted by WRickWrites to WRickWritesSciFi [link] [comments]
*
How do you make a choice?
Do you reason it out, weigh every element, consider every path? Or do you trust your gut. Trust yourself, take a leap of faith. Or maybe, you simply flip a coin.
How do you make a choice between life and death, when you don't know which is which?
Sometimes I wonder why my parents chose to settle on New Montana. It was never exactly a land of milk and honey. The terraforming was only barely holding on, and civilization consisted of a couple of small towns and isolated farmsteads. Maybe they thought it had potential, that at some point the ecology would stabilise and towns would become cities and the cities would become rich. Maybe they thought about the future we would have there, my little brother and me. But still, I wonder what they were running from, when they left Earth.
And I wonder why they chose to stay when the war started, and New Montana became a frontline colony. Maybe they believed in the cause. Maybe they didn't have anywhere else to go. Looking back, I wonder if they simply never really thought that the war would reach us...
It was my mother that woke me that night. I think I was already half awake; I remember hearing the rumbling in the distance, like a distant storm. Then, my mother's hand on my shoulder, shaking me out of sleep.
"They're here. Leah, wake up, they're here."
I was Leah Ingrid Olsson, I was thirteen years old, and I'd lived my entire life on New Montana. And everything I knew was about to end.
"Wha...", I mumbled, still barely awake. "Who's here? What's going on?"
"The Krr'za'skrr. They've landed outside the shield, we have to go."
The what? I turned the unfamiliar syllables over in my mind. Then it hit me. We had half a dozen slang names for them, the other kids and me: kurries, roaches, knifers, and so on. Their real name was too hard for us to pronounce, but somehow with everything else going on my mother said it perfectly, and it hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
They were here. The aliens.
They'd come to destroy the colony.
We'd been doing evacuation drills at school since the war started three years earlier. I'd done so many that to me, as a child, they seemed like just a normal part of life. If the attack had come while I was at school I'd probably have gone through the motions by rote, lining up with the other children and heading for the nearest bunker. But at home, at night, with my mother shaking me and the sound of explosions in the distance...
"Leah, get up! We need to go!" My mother's whisper was urgent, on the verge of begging. But I was frozen, gripping my bed covers, willing this to be just another nightmare. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't...
Then there was an explosion much closer, close enough to rattle the windows. And a moment later I heard my little brother crying from the next room. Somehow, that was what made it real for me.
"I'm up, I'm up. Go get Noah."
I threw the covers off as my mother rushed to get my brother. What do I need? What do I need? The question went round and round in my head. I was only wearing a T-Shirt and shorts, and the first thing I thought of was I should get my bra, because that's what I always did when I got up. It was stupid - it wasn't as if I even needed it back then - but that's what your mind does when you're panicking. Fixates on the little, easy thing, so you don't have to think about the big, terrifying thing going on outside. I grabbed my hairbrush, because in those days my long, blonde hair tangled like tumbleweed the moment my head touched a pillow.
Then the windows shook again and I finally snapped out of it. I had to get out of here, now. I ran into the hallway, and in the dark I almost knocked my mother over. She was carrying Noah, who had his face buried in her shoulder. He didn't have his blankey. He was four years old and he never went anywhere without his blankey, and I wanted to go and get it for him, but there was no time. There was no time.
They were here.
I slipped my pink running shoes on, and my mother grabbed my hand and dragged me out into the night.
The first thing I felt was the cold, as the night air bit into me. The first thing I saw was the flames. The storage tanks at the edge of the town were on fire and casting orange light and flickering shadows out across the streets and homes. A man ran past, at a full sprint, so quick he was gone before I could even think to ask him what was happening.
Where were the enemy? How many, what direction? Where was safe?
Then I finally thought to ask: "Where's dad?"
"With the militia."
He'd left without even saying goodbye. I imagine that moment sometimes, when I have too much time on my hands. When the alert came through on his phone, and he realised the day he'd spent three years praying would never come was finally here. How did he react? Calm, collected? 'I have to get to the armoury, you take the kids to the shelter'. Or did he freeze up like I did, sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, until my mother had to shake him, remind him of his duty. Did he think he was going to die, or did he tell himself it was probably just a false alarm? The latter, it must have been.
He never said goodbye. It would only have taken a second.
My mother gripped my hand like a vise and led me through the maze of alleys. Cheaper to build houses small and close together. Half the streets were nothing but dirt tracks, and it had rained earlier, so it wasn't long before I had mud streaks splashed up my bare legs.
It was so dark. The enemy must have used an EMP on the town; the power grid was out and not even the security lights above people's doors were on. The only light to see by was the flames rising in the distance.
Not so far away now, though. I could smell the smoke on the air, feel it stinging the back of my throat.
Street by street, winding our way towards the shelter for our section of town. It wasn't a big town, only about thirty thousand people, but it was strange how empty the streets were. Our house was near the outskirts of town, a poor neighbourhood even for New Montana. Most people must have already made it to the bunker.
Or they never found the nerve to leave their homes, and sat there in the dark, waiting for the enemy to reach them.
It started to rain again. We turned a corner and then suddenly my mother yanked my arm. Pulled me back into the shadow of the building. I was about to complain, whine about how she hurt my wrist. Then I heard the sound of footsteps, splashing through the mud. And the snap-hiss of an energy rifle being fired.
The fires cast shadows down the street, past the mouth of the alley. Long shadows. Shadows with too many arms, too many legs.
Quietly, praying Noah wouldn't so much as a whimper, we went back the way we'd come. Circling round, trying to find a route to the shelter that that was safe. More pitch-dark streets, more blacked out buildings, round and round until even though I'd lived in this town my whole life I wasn't sure where we were. I wasn't sure my mother knew either.
Every so often another person would appear out of the darkness for a moment and disappear again just as fast. Once or twice I heard shouts, like militia calling out orders. And a couple of times I heard screams. But other than that, just the wind-driven rain rippling across the rooftops, and the sound of distant gunfire.
We passed bodies, face down in the mud. I tried not to look. When Noah turned his head I stepped into his eyeline and smiled like nothing was wrong. "Don't be scared. We're just going to the shelter, like in the drills.", I whispered. "Don't look at the street, just look at me."
"'kay, Le.'
"I love you."
"Love you too."
Every corner we came to we stopped, peeking round quickly, darting back. Every couple of turns, we found the way we needed to go was blocked. Silhouettes that only bore a passing resemblance to the pictures on the propaganda posters, advancing through the town.
Then we came to one of the main streets. One that actually had paving. I knew we had to cross it, there was nowhere to go this time if we went back the way we'd come. They were closing in around us.
The snap-hiss of weapons fire greeted us, and I stopped short as energy bolts flickered past the mouth of the alley. My mother tried to drag me back again but this time I pulled my hand away and crouched down by the edge of the building.
There was a barricade down the street. Two half-tracks pulled across to block whatever was advancing from the other side. A couple of men, militia, firing from behind the meagre cover. I don't think my father was one of them but I'll never know. I only glanced for a moment, but it was long enough to see a man fall, a glowing hole through his torso. The crackling bolts cut lines of steam through the rain, whipping down the street in front of us.
Dead end. We couldn't go on, we couldn't go back.
How do you make that choice? Run out into gunfire, or go back and maybe meet the enemy advancing through the streets towards us? One path leads to death, one path leads to life, but there's no riddle you can solve
to tell you which is which. You just have to choose without knowing.
How do you make that choice? I knew there were enemies behind us, moving up. I didn't know what was on the other side of the street, and I didn't know if I could make it without being caught in the crossfire. But at least there would be a chance.
I gestured across the street, but my mother shook her head. "We have to!", I shouted, but she wouldn't move.
I ran for it. I felt my mothers fingers snatch at the hem of my shirt, but too slow; they slipped away.
Then I was out in the open. An energy bolt blinked passed right in front of me and stopped short. Took a step... lights flashing all around me, I froze. I almost turned back. Then something in me snapped, and I ran the last few metres to cover.
An energy bolt just grazed my shoulder as I reached the mouth of the alley. I half-spun, tripped, and landed face first in the mud.
But I made it.
I propped myself up on my elbows, then scrambled into a crouch. I was soaked - rain, mud, my own blood. But I made it.
I thought my mother would follow if she saw me make it. If she saw it could be done. She wouldn't leave me alone, she'd have to follow. She'd have to, she wouldn't leave me...
In the darkness on the other side of the street, past the flashing lines of energy, I could see her. Crouching, holding Noah tight against her body. I beckoned to her, but she wouldn't move. I started to get desperate. Glancing round the corner, seeing the bodies pile up at the barricade. I knew it was only moments before the enemy smashed through and came this way.
I stood there waiting for my mother to make the sprint across. Then in growing disbelief as I realised she wasn't going to do it. I think I was crying; or maybe it was the rain streaming down my cheeks. I'd left my little brother behind. That was what made me sick to my stomach: I should have grabbed him from my mother and run across with him. I wanted to go back, but I knew there was no way I'd make it across twice.
The enemy were breaking through the barricade. I was out of time. One last time I beckoned my mother to follow me. But instead, she turned away. I think that was her way of giving me permission. She knew she'd left it too late, but I still had a chance.
I hung there for another moment, a part of me not believing I could really do it.
Then I left them and ran, alone, into the night.
There were fewer of the enemy on that side of the settlement, but I still I almost ran into them a couple of times. No way I could get to a shelter, not now. I couldn't make it to the entrance and even if I did they'd be sealed shut by now. So I headed for the scrap yard on the edge of town. I played there with the other kids, I knew it well enough to find my way around even in the dark. It wasn't just old bits of metal and a couple of cars, there were stacks of old industrial machinery and farm equipment, saved to be cannibalised for parts. Plenty of places to hide.
I half expected it to be crawling with aliens, but it was deserted. The battle became flashes of light in the distance, punctuated by thunder. Just another storm, to shelter from until it passed by. I crawled into the outflow of an old harvester, and sat there, dripping wet and shivering.
And then I started to sob. Because my mother wasn't there, sure. And my dad. There was a part of me that was quite certain I'd never see either of them again. But mostly because I'd left Noah. I'd left my little brother behind. I could have grabbed him, I could have...
I must have fallen asleep at some point. I'd pulled the hatch of the outflow pipe closed when I got in, or closed as far as it would go, so it was almost warm from my body heat. I blinked my eyes, then sneezed; there were still dried up husks of wheat everywhere. My shoulder burned a little from where I'd been grazed, but it didn't seem too bad.
Then I realised that through the gap where the hatch didn't quite close, I could see light.
It was dawn.
I went to open the hatch. Then I realised that if any of the fucking roaches were anywhere near I'd be committing suicide. I waited a moment, then realised I really needed to pee. I thought about doing it out the hatch, but maybe that would give me away, so I crawled as far into the harvester as I could and did it there. Then I waited.
I waited all day. I tried to keep myself occupied by singing my favourite songs but I didn't dare make any noise so I just sang them in my head. Other than that, all I did was pee again, and tried to ignore the pain in my shoulder. I kept waiting until a few hours after nightfall, then when I didn't hear anything outside I crept out and drank some of the water that had collected a hub cap. Then I crawled back into my hiding place, and waited.
Four days. That was how long it took for me to get so hungry I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't hear sounds of fighting anymore, but although I dreamed about going home and finding everything the way it was with just a few scorch marks on the walls and the militia and my dad were heroes because they'd fought off the roaches...
That was just a dream. I was pretty sure that there was no fighting because the roaches had won.
But I figured it was better to take the risk than die of starvation. So I waited until it got dark again, and started trudging back towards town. There was a part of me that didn't even care if I got killed. The lights were still out and I was able to slip into the narrow streets without any chance anyone who wasn't looking specifically saw me. Automatically, I started heading for home. Then I realised how stupid that was, and picked the nearest door. Unlocked.
Empty house. Like everyone else, the occupants had left in a hurry. There were muddy prints on the floor, so someone must have been through here recently, but I couldn't tell who they belonged to. Either way there wasn't so much as a whisper, so I headed for the kitchen and started shovelling food out of the cupboards and into a plastic bag.
Then I heard a noise. I froze, but then I realised it was coming from out in the street, maybe some way off. A rumbling, growling noise, like heavy machinery running.
My first instinct was to hide. My second instinct was to run back to the scrapyard. But instead, I left the food behind and started creeping through the alleys towards the noise. Because it meant there was something still alive here. Probably the roaches; I knew it was a really bad idea, but I had to see. In my mind's eye, I saw a pen full of prisoners, and my parents and my little brother jammed in with the rest of the town, and if I could find something to cut the wires I could sneak them out...
I heard voices, and dived into cover in an open garage, shaking because I realised just how stupid I'd been. Everyone knew the roaches didn't take prisoners. I could just have gone back to the scrapyard with the food, but now I was stuck here, and if they found me, they would shoot me dead on sight. Or save me for their knives.
Ten minutes, fifteen. I curled up under a work bench and prayed, prayed, that whatever was out there would pass by. Instead, the voices got closer. I waited, and I waited, until I could barely breathe any more...
Then I realised the voices were speaking English. And cautiously, I crept out of my hiding place.
Colonial Marines. It was over. I was safe.
Continued here: Our Choices Make Us Human (Part 2)
2024.05.03 01:24 Evening-Sample-2382 Chronic Health Issue Mystery and Narcolepsy
Would really love your thoughts on this. I am a young woman with type 1 Narcolepsy. I have been on Xywav (which was hard to adjust to at first) for 4 months now. I did have bad side effects at first when it came to anxiety and still have night sweats, but that panic feeling subsided. When I started Xywav in January, I had a period maybe two weeks after of numbness in my hands and face. I told my doctor and he was pretty sure it was the Xywav. I also developed a tremor, this passed as well with time.
Well, mid-April I get Uveitis which is serious inflammation in both eyes with no apparent cause. They did every autoimmune work up possible blood-wise for me and everything looked great. However, I’m still having problems with blurry vision and some eye pain.
For over 24 hours, my right side has slowly gotten and stayed numb. My fingertips all the way to my shoulder on my right arm and my entire right leg. I have been so lethargic for two months, Xywav initially gave me my life back and a combo of Adzentys and Xywav (both moderately low doses) was working great before. I was even able to start exercising again regularly. Now boom, I’m 108 pounds, I have no appetite even when I take breaks from the Xywav and Adzentys. And I’m so physically fatigued I’m awake but can barely move. I feel like I can’t think and have no short term memory.
I feel like my doctors think I’m a hypochondriac crazy person because my labs are fine but I’m really struggling physically. I can’t help but feel like there could be another nervous system issue at play.
submitted by Evening-Sample-2382 to Narcolepsy [link] [comments]
Well, mid-April I get Uveitis which is serious inflammation in both eyes with no apparent cause. They did every autoimmune work up possible blood-wise for me and everything looked great. However, I’m still having problems with blurry vision and some eye pain.
For over 24 hours, my right side has slowly gotten and stayed numb. My fingertips all the way to my shoulder on my right arm and my entire right leg. I have been so lethargic for two months, Xywav initially gave me my life back and a combo of Adzentys and Xywav (both moderately low doses) was working great before. I was even able to start exercising again regularly. Now boom, I’m 108 pounds, I have no appetite even when I take breaks from the Xywav and Adzentys. And I’m so physically fatigued I’m awake but can barely move. I feel like I can’t think and have no short term memory.
I feel like my doctors think I’m a hypochondriac crazy person because my labs are fine but I’m really struggling physically. I can’t help but feel like there could be another nervous system issue at play.
2024.05.03 01:21 Large_Scene3565 College exam help Reddit
If you are Worried about your college Exam & coursework, get paid help from Online Helpers at Hiraedu!
Contact Details for Hiraedu Helper:
WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657
Call: +1 727 456 9641
Website: hiraedu. com
Email: info@hiraedu. com
Here are some general tips for college exam help:
submitted by Large_Scene3565 to Studentcorner [link] [comments]
Contact Details for Hiraedu Helper:
WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657
Call: +1 727 456 9641
Website: hiraedu. com
Email: info@hiraedu. com
Here are some general tips for college exam help:
- Start studying early: Don't wait until the last minute to study for your exam. Break up your studying into smaller chunks over several days or weeks.
- Understand the material: Make sure you understand the concepts and material covered on the exam. Review your notes and textbook, and ask your professor or teaching assistant if you have questions.
- Make a study plan: Create a study plan that outlines what you need to study, how much time you need to spend on each topic, and when you need to study.
- Use active learning techniques: Instead of just re-reading your notes, try active learning techniques like summarizing key points in your own words, making concept maps or flashcards, or creating practice quizzes for yourself.
- Practice with sample questions: Look for sample questions online or in study guides that are similar to what you'll see on the actual exam. This can help you get a sense of the types of questions you'll be expected to answer and how to approach them.
- Get enough sleep: Make sure you get plenty of rest before the exam. Lack of sleep can impair your ability to focus and think clearly.
- Stay organized: Keep all your study materials, including notes, practice exams, and any other resources, organized and easily accessible.
- Seek help when needed: Don't hesitate to ask for help if you're struggling with a particular concept or subject. You can ask your professor, teaching assistant, or a tutor for support.
- Stay calm and focused: Take deep breaths and try to relax during the exam. Read each question carefully and take your time to answer.
- Review and adjust: After the exam, review what you did well and what you need to work on. Adjust your study plan for future exams based on what you learned.
- Online tutoring platforms like Chegg, TutorMe, or Varsity Tutors
- Study guides and practice exams from textbook publishers or online resources like Quizlet or Khan Academy
- Campus resources like academic support centers, counseling services, or study skills workshops
2024.05.03 01:18 CynicalDropFox Everyone needs to take a deep breath.
Like the title says everyone freaking out needs to take a step back and take a deep breath. FUD is gonna happen and that's to be expected with anything that involves some form of monetary gain/loss, but contexualize this.
First, what scammer limits the total ammout gained and only to 2 million max? None, especially when you can make a meme coin with minimum effort and raise $10m plus in a few months.
Second, with all the API issues happening and the deployer being badgered daily to fix them and constantly coming through to fix them, a scammer would blow it off. And he wrote a new api for the site to fix said issues.
Third, yes it sucks to be scammed but why would you invest anything you aren't willing to lose? This isn't a gambling house, "apes" that want to gamble aren't who make the crypto market move overall and throwing money into something you didnt research beforehand, well that problem falls on no one but yourself. And if you DID research ahead of time and invest then obviously there's something you believed in about the project. A single push from a date doesn't denote a scam.
You can rally your pitchforks or scream into the abyss of reddit or X as much as you want but all in all you should take a step back and reasses why you invested. And if it was more than your personal means then re-evaluate where you wrong and learn from it. Give it another month and go from there. We have confirmation that there will be no other extension on the presale from Deployer themselves and if they don't keep their word we cross that bridge when we get there. But everything else is pointless to do at this moment till we know for certain. So take it in stride, wait till the sale ends and go from that.
This concludes my TED Talk
submitted by CynicalDropFox to mollarstoken [link] [comments]
First, what scammer limits the total ammout gained and only to 2 million max? None, especially when you can make a meme coin with minimum effort and raise $10m plus in a few months.
Second, with all the API issues happening and the deployer being badgered daily to fix them and constantly coming through to fix them, a scammer would blow it off. And he wrote a new api for the site to fix said issues.
Third, yes it sucks to be scammed but why would you invest anything you aren't willing to lose? This isn't a gambling house, "apes" that want to gamble aren't who make the crypto market move overall and throwing money into something you didnt research beforehand, well that problem falls on no one but yourself. And if you DID research ahead of time and invest then obviously there's something you believed in about the project. A single push from a date doesn't denote a scam.
You can rally your pitchforks or scream into the abyss of reddit or X as much as you want but all in all you should take a step back and reasses why you invested. And if it was more than your personal means then re-evaluate where you wrong and learn from it. Give it another month and go from there. We have confirmation that there will be no other extension on the presale from Deployer themselves and if they don't keep their word we cross that bridge when we get there. But everything else is pointless to do at this moment till we know for certain. So take it in stride, wait till the sale ends and go from that.
This concludes my TED Talk
2024.05.03 01:17 Foreign_Topic The Fandom Has an Unresolved Daddy Issue
I recently reread the series for the first time since 2007. In the 2000s I followed the online discussion and to my recollection there was a consensus that Snape was among the most enjoyable and entertaining aspects of Harry Potter. Beloved anti-hero is where I thought the fandom had landed.
Afteduring my reread I went on Reddit to see what was going on in nerd world and I was shocked to see EVERYONE HATES SNAPE and everyone is ride or die for Neville’s pet toad???
I’ve being thinking about it and I think readers may hate Snape because of these story-telling choices:
So, to my second point:
When the Tale concludes Harry is reeling: Dumbledore, his kindly mentor, is asking him to walk straight into the firing line for the greater good! He has no headspace available to reflect on the trials and tribulations of Severus Snape. We get a few lines of trash talking in the Great Hall when Harry reveals to Voldemort that Snape was Dumbledore’s man, then in the Epilogue we meet ASP. Why is the relationship between Harry and Snape, perhaps the most compelling relationship in the 3500-page series, resolved with a one-sided video-message and a middle name?
Harry Potter is a coming of age story and reckoning with fathers and father-figures is a fundamental part of coming of age stories. Snape is Harry’s father figure in a symbolic sense. To be clear: I do not mean Harry consciously views Snape as a father figure (Sirius and Mr. Weasley inhabit that role). For most of PS (and the series as a whole) Snape is outwardly the negative aspects of a father: oppressor, critic, limiter of freedom and fun. At the end of PS and then again at the end of the series as a whole Snape is revealed to be the man who protected Harry fiercely and unconditionally: ie, has the positive aspects of a father.
Harry’s central problem when we meet him in PS is his unfair and unloving family. He yearns for affection, attention, and understanding. Even though Petunia is the blood relation, Harry’s relationship with Vernon is the focus. Harry’s original conflict is with his father-figure.
Snape comes to occupy Uncle Vernon’s role once Harry leaves the regular world for the magical world: He is an intimating, if slightly ridiculous figure always out to get Harry. Uncle Vernon is Harry’s male legal guardian who has provided for him materially to age 11. While at school Snape takes standing in loco parentis to an extreme: Harry’s well-being and protection is his life's mission*.* Both men shoulder their task of keeping Harry alive begrudgingly and with a marked absence of affection. Vernon is strict; Snape is severe. They both seem to delight in arbitrary punishments. In PS Vernon won’t let him have his letter; Snape won’t let him have his Quidditch book back. Vernon favours the undeserving Dudley. Snape favours the undeserving Draco. The link is drawn in later books too. In POA Vernon tells Marge in front of Harry that James was unemployed then Snape tells Harry that James was an arrogant prick. In GOF, there is a funny line: “Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry.” In OOTP Harry explicitly identifies Snape’s silent treatment as a regular tactic of Uncle Vernon’s. They both emasculate, manhandle, and threateningly impose their greater physicality over Harry at various points in the series. The parallels are intentional.
Further, Snape wrenches Harry from the protection and genial warmth of the good fathers. By the end of HBP from Harry’s point of view Snape bears responsibility for the deaths of James, Sirius, and Dumbledore: beloved father, beloved father-figure, and beloved mentor. Snape has also dispatched with Harry’s idealized picture of his father. In OOTP Harry has spent much of the winter semester bearing his painful memories of being bullied to Snape only for the lessons to end with a revelation that burns Harry like swallowed acid: James was a repulsive, arrogant bully. Then Harry spends 6th year in rapt admiration of the Half-Blood Prince, hoping childishly that the Prince would turn out to be James. He curls up in bed reading the annotated textbook every night and takes it with him to read over Christmas at The Burrow. Harry’s admiration is an intimate, dedicated admiration. At the end of the novel Snape detonates the truth and Harry is left stunned, betrayed and in torment.
Both in terms of the plot and in terms of Harry's emotional development, Snape is there wherever there is a daddy issue and his continued presence at these places entreats a satisfying resolution.
Snape and Harry’s exchange at the end of HBP is the rawest in the series. Harry can’t even touch Snape he is so outmatched in magic and in his brashness is once again threatening Snape’s cover and the war effort. Snape has Harry’s best interest at heart but once again Harry is blind to this. Harry sears Snape with accusations and invites death. Boy and man are in anguish and rage, buckling under the respective burdens Dumbledore has asked them to carry. Snape cracks at “kill me like you killed [my dad]” he belts Harry across the face (with a spell). Buckbeak’s intervention terminates the “duel” rather than either character.
Compare this with Harry coolly telling Voldemort what’s what at the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry’s struggle with Snape is personal whereas Harry’s struggle with Voldemort is an impersonal struggle against death. For all the shared visions and wand-cores, Voldemort and Harry are strangers to each other. At least the Voldemort conflict is resolved satisfyingly face-to-face whereas there is no such resolution following the HBP blowout.
Harry camps all of 7th year on a fetch quest while Snape paces in the headmaster’s study. Snape wordlessly watches from afar as Harry follows the silver doe. Harry wordlessly watches through the pensieve an already dead man’s memories. Both characters passively observe the other rather than actively reconcile. It feels incongruent that Harry and Snape who spent 6 books verbally sparing do not have a conversation in the last book, especially when there was so much to be said.
Harry confronting Snape and Snape’s revelations communicated directly would have been electric. But even if it had to be after Snape’s death that Harry learns the truth, then the inclusion of even a paragraph in the breathless last few pages of DH may have helped. Harry could have reflected on Snape’s sacrifice and been bowled over by gratitude and awe. The man he so hated had loved his mother so fiercely that Harry himself was enveloped and protected (like a son).
We clearly understand Snape’s motivation is penance for Lily’s death, so in terms of plot we get a satisfying conclusion. But what about the direct relationship between Snape and Harry we have watched unfold? Reckoning with the father figure--coming to place of empathy, respect, and understanding-- is an essential step in a coming-of-age narrative, but Harry reaches this point of maturation off-screen.
Due to this narrative choice, Snape remains to some just the dickhead teacher Harry had to deal with growing up. I can see why some are so "Justice4Trevor." The reader did not get to see Harry arrive at his nuanced view of Snape and so Snape remains to some readers just as much a cartoon character as Uncle Vernon.
TLDR: The flawed story-telling choice of an indirect apology from Snape followed by Harry's forgiveness of Snape offscreen contributes to fan hatred of Snape.
submitted by Foreign_Topic to HarryPotterBooks [link] [comments]
Afteduring my reread I went on Reddit to see what was going on in nerd world and I was shocked to see EVERYONE HATES SNAPE and everyone is ride or die for Neville’s pet toad???
I’ve being thinking about it and I think readers may hate Snape because of these story-telling choices:
- Snape uses the Prince’s Tale (“Tale”) to apologize to Harry for his treatment of him but this apology is indirect can only be understood by inference;
- Given the indirectness of the apology and the "off-screen" acceptance of it, Harry and Snape’s series-spanning conflict is unsatisfyingly resolved by JKR
So, to my second point:
When the Tale concludes Harry is reeling: Dumbledore, his kindly mentor, is asking him to walk straight into the firing line for the greater good! He has no headspace available to reflect on the trials and tribulations of Severus Snape. We get a few lines of trash talking in the Great Hall when Harry reveals to Voldemort that Snape was Dumbledore’s man, then in the Epilogue we meet ASP. Why is the relationship between Harry and Snape, perhaps the most compelling relationship in the 3500-page series, resolved with a one-sided video-message and a middle name?
Harry Potter is a coming of age story and reckoning with fathers and father-figures is a fundamental part of coming of age stories. Snape is Harry’s father figure in a symbolic sense. To be clear: I do not mean Harry consciously views Snape as a father figure (Sirius and Mr. Weasley inhabit that role). For most of PS (and the series as a whole) Snape is outwardly the negative aspects of a father: oppressor, critic, limiter of freedom and fun. At the end of PS and then again at the end of the series as a whole Snape is revealed to be the man who protected Harry fiercely and unconditionally: ie, has the positive aspects of a father.
Harry’s central problem when we meet him in PS is his unfair and unloving family. He yearns for affection, attention, and understanding. Even though Petunia is the blood relation, Harry’s relationship with Vernon is the focus. Harry’s original conflict is with his father-figure.
Snape comes to occupy Uncle Vernon’s role once Harry leaves the regular world for the magical world: He is an intimating, if slightly ridiculous figure always out to get Harry. Uncle Vernon is Harry’s male legal guardian who has provided for him materially to age 11. While at school Snape takes standing in loco parentis to an extreme: Harry’s well-being and protection is his life's mission*.* Both men shoulder their task of keeping Harry alive begrudgingly and with a marked absence of affection. Vernon is strict; Snape is severe. They both seem to delight in arbitrary punishments. In PS Vernon won’t let him have his letter; Snape won’t let him have his Quidditch book back. Vernon favours the undeserving Dudley. Snape favours the undeserving Draco. The link is drawn in later books too. In POA Vernon tells Marge in front of Harry that James was unemployed then Snape tells Harry that James was an arrogant prick. In GOF, there is a funny line: “Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry.” In OOTP Harry explicitly identifies Snape’s silent treatment as a regular tactic of Uncle Vernon’s. They both emasculate, manhandle, and threateningly impose their greater physicality over Harry at various points in the series. The parallels are intentional.
Further, Snape wrenches Harry from the protection and genial warmth of the good fathers. By the end of HBP from Harry’s point of view Snape bears responsibility for the deaths of James, Sirius, and Dumbledore: beloved father, beloved father-figure, and beloved mentor. Snape has also dispatched with Harry’s idealized picture of his father. In OOTP Harry has spent much of the winter semester bearing his painful memories of being bullied to Snape only for the lessons to end with a revelation that burns Harry like swallowed acid: James was a repulsive, arrogant bully. Then Harry spends 6th year in rapt admiration of the Half-Blood Prince, hoping childishly that the Prince would turn out to be James. He curls up in bed reading the annotated textbook every night and takes it with him to read over Christmas at The Burrow. Harry’s admiration is an intimate, dedicated admiration. At the end of the novel Snape detonates the truth and Harry is left stunned, betrayed and in torment.
Both in terms of the plot and in terms of Harry's emotional development, Snape is there wherever there is a daddy issue and his continued presence at these places entreats a satisfying resolution.
Snape and Harry’s exchange at the end of HBP is the rawest in the series. Harry can’t even touch Snape he is so outmatched in magic and in his brashness is once again threatening Snape’s cover and the war effort. Snape has Harry’s best interest at heart but once again Harry is blind to this. Harry sears Snape with accusations and invites death. Boy and man are in anguish and rage, buckling under the respective burdens Dumbledore has asked them to carry. Snape cracks at “kill me like you killed [my dad]” he belts Harry across the face (with a spell). Buckbeak’s intervention terminates the “duel” rather than either character.
Compare this with Harry coolly telling Voldemort what’s what at the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry’s struggle with Snape is personal whereas Harry’s struggle with Voldemort is an impersonal struggle against death. For all the shared visions and wand-cores, Voldemort and Harry are strangers to each other. At least the Voldemort conflict is resolved satisfyingly face-to-face whereas there is no such resolution following the HBP blowout.
Harry camps all of 7th year on a fetch quest while Snape paces in the headmaster’s study. Snape wordlessly watches from afar as Harry follows the silver doe. Harry wordlessly watches through the pensieve an already dead man’s memories. Both characters passively observe the other rather than actively reconcile. It feels incongruent that Harry and Snape who spent 6 books verbally sparing do not have a conversation in the last book, especially when there was so much to be said.
Harry confronting Snape and Snape’s revelations communicated directly would have been electric. But even if it had to be after Snape’s death that Harry learns the truth, then the inclusion of even a paragraph in the breathless last few pages of DH may have helped. Harry could have reflected on Snape’s sacrifice and been bowled over by gratitude and awe. The man he so hated had loved his mother so fiercely that Harry himself was enveloped and protected (like a son).
We clearly understand Snape’s motivation is penance for Lily’s death, so in terms of plot we get a satisfying conclusion. But what about the direct relationship between Snape and Harry we have watched unfold? Reckoning with the father figure--coming to place of empathy, respect, and understanding-- is an essential step in a coming-of-age narrative, but Harry reaches this point of maturation off-screen.
Due to this narrative choice, Snape remains to some just the dickhead teacher Harry had to deal with growing up. I can see why some are so "Justice4Trevor." The reader did not get to see Harry arrive at his nuanced view of Snape and so Snape remains to some readers just as much a cartoon character as Uncle Vernon.
TLDR: The flawed story-telling choice of an indirect apology from Snape followed by Harry's forgiveness of Snape offscreen contributes to fan hatred of Snape.
2024.05.03 01:16 Beyondbotched Glazing is the word for what they do on here.
“Excessively gassing up and praising to the point of being annoying and cringe”
I sometimes find the podcast entertaining and no one has to worship every aspect of the shows they listen to. I think the reason why people complain is because we are desperate for good podcasts but celebrities are so far and deep up their own assholes with narcissism and being out of touch it can become too insufferable to enjoy. The fawning and adoration and ass licking over awards and success is honestly kind of disgusting. I don’t like celebrity worship culture and think it’s toxic as fuck.
The Jessica Chastain ep they all shit on “laziness” and Jessica was saying she couldn’t even stand to be around “lazy people”. Laziness is literally not a real thing. The term was invented by capitalism to shame and control people. You have no idea what other ppl are dealing with - depression, low self esteem, physical pain, disabilities of any kind. The egos on these mediocre actors are insane. Yes she is mediocre. You can be a wonderful person and not want to “WORK HARD!!”. I listen to hear about people’s lives if I’m bored but my god I just can’t sometimes. Egotistical narcs who crave validation and constant attention but it’s called “hard working” and then shame people who aren’t that. They also laughed at Pedro Pascal when he referred to bartending as a skill, which it is, and I doubt any of them could do it well because it is stressful as hell.
submitted by Beyondbotched to smartless [link] [comments]
I sometimes find the podcast entertaining and no one has to worship every aspect of the shows they listen to. I think the reason why people complain is because we are desperate for good podcasts but celebrities are so far and deep up their own assholes with narcissism and being out of touch it can become too insufferable to enjoy. The fawning and adoration and ass licking over awards and success is honestly kind of disgusting. I don’t like celebrity worship culture and think it’s toxic as fuck.
The Jessica Chastain ep they all shit on “laziness” and Jessica was saying she couldn’t even stand to be around “lazy people”. Laziness is literally not a real thing. The term was invented by capitalism to shame and control people. You have no idea what other ppl are dealing with - depression, low self esteem, physical pain, disabilities of any kind. The egos on these mediocre actors are insane. Yes she is mediocre. You can be a wonderful person and not want to “WORK HARD!!”. I listen to hear about people’s lives if I’m bored but my god I just can’t sometimes. Egotistical narcs who crave validation and constant attention but it’s called “hard working” and then shame people who aren’t that. They also laughed at Pedro Pascal when he referred to bartending as a skill, which it is, and I doubt any of them could do it well because it is stressful as hell.
2024.05.03 01:15 scarveinn I want my father to die and i have no one to hug.
Idk who to talk to, i cant share this with my friends. And one person who i was comfortable enough to share this with has left me. Im lonelier than ever all i need is someone to hug me and let me cry on their shoulder. Im so tired of my dad causing us problems. He has ruined our lives. Abused us, exploited us, drained us. Cheated on my mom, beat her. I thought i was fine with it as long as i had my mom. Now he has stolen her from me. He has taken my mom away from me. They have been married for 30 years now (she shouldve left him) and its almost like she has stockholmes syndrome. I have 4 siblings. Im trying to protect my youngest one. He has lied to us that he’s changing and he did not change a bit. I dont have the energy in me to type everything but i all i want to say is that he has been a horrible horrible father trust me on that. He has given all of us ptsd. I want him to die as soon as possible and when he dies i want him to think of everything he has done and that i have not forgiven him. I dont want to wake up in the middle of the night with flashbacks nightmares and nausea. I want my old mom back. The mom who cared for us instead of this abuser. I dont know how he did that but she has forgotten that she loved us and we loved her. Im religiously praying that he dies and takes away all my life’s misery with him. Im so lonely. My chest feels extremely heavy. too heavy. I just want someone to help me take my pain away. I can’t commit suicide for my siblings. I can’t do that to him. But i want this to end so bad i never wanted it more. I want this lore than ever this time.
submitted by scarveinn to confessions [link] [comments]
2024.05.03 01:13 shrwbwgy Recap of first 2 weeks on SR 100mg. Feeling good!
Hi everyone! Just wanted to add my experience to the record.
I (F23) got [officially] diagnosed with mild/moderate depression and anxiety on April 17th and had had a kind of "pre"-diagnosis of ADHD PI a year or so prior just to give an idea of what I was dealing with. I started taking Bupropion SR 100mg on April 18th. Coming up on week 3 and I have to say I'm feeling pretty damn good, yall. I recorded a lil bit of my experience (almost) every day so here's a recap:
Week 1:
Day 1: Ate it with greek yogurt around 11 AM ish. I felt what was closest to a slight caffeine buzz within a couple hours of taking it (I took it in the AM and do not consume any caffeine). I know people say you can't feel it that soon but I definitely noticed something. Later in the day I felt a lil...more aroused than I usually do during that time of the month. That was interesting. Otherwise the day was normal.
Day 2: Took it at 7:30 AM, no food. Woke up that morning and noticed my heart rate was a little quickened and I had some racing thoughts. That's not unusual for me though. Day was normal.
Day 3: Headaches and a lil queasiness. The headache wasn't like an eye strain headache, but like a pressure headache as though I had head congestion. I rated it a 3-4 on the pain scale. The headache did start to pound before I went to sleep. The queasiness had lessened my appetite as I felt some difficulty swallowing, but I did nibble throughout the day. Also started drinking more water. I felt a little dehydrated and noticed slight dry mouth. Energy wise I felt good and handled some administrative stuff. I exercised a little bit too! Felt like I was getting more distracted by sounds than usual, like if my phone ringer was going off or a siren was going by I couldn't quite get my thoughts together. Lastly noticed that I was using more filler words like "um" as I felt I was processing words slower. Just as a note, the ADHD assessment I did with my Psych NP noted a slight auditory impairment. Not saying that's definitive by any means, but it's good to know. Aside from the side effects, I felt energized and "happier."
Day 4: My sleep leading into day 4 was not great as I was in and out of sleep. This was the first sleep issue I had had, but I can't definitively attribute it to the medication because I regularly have cycles of good sleep and bad sleep. Woke up feeling like I could use some more rest. Headache was gone, I was extremely thirsty. Queasiness gone. In the video I recorded, I could see some water retention in my face. During my evening check-in I noted that I felt a lot of pressure in my head, behind my eyes, and in my jaw, likening it to a tension headache. I also felt like I had been clenching my jaw (I probably had been grinding my teeth in my sleep as I have a history of that). Had a noticeably dry mouth despite drinking lots of water. Started sweating more and had some temperature fluctuations. The energy "buzz" I felt during the first 3 days had started to wane.
Day 5/6: Noted that the meds help with energy levels and having a general sense of contentedness, but not with time management and productivity. Has looked like me struggling to unglue myself from my iPad, but not experiencing the same level of anxiety and feeling "trapped" on it like I had in the past. I had the energy to get off, but not the will, if that makes any sense. I was still experiencing a level of difficulty with showering (this was day 3/4 no shower) and cleaning my apartment. Had a very dry cough that woke me up on night 6. Made some tea and went to sleep.
Day 7: I felt high. High like I had consumed some kind of sativa cannabis. I didn't feel impaired per se, but "floaty/spacey" and like I was "coming up" on something. Maybe I could liken it a little more to the effect of coming up on a micro dose of acid? I did not love this feeling as it was very distracting. I could get things done, but it felt uncomfortable and I questioned if I was "intoxicated." The intoxicated feeling gradually transitioned into a headache within a few hours. So, felt "high" for maybe 4-6 hours. Then headache.
Week 2:
Day 8: Slept very good the night prior and woke up very early. Got on my phone for a few minutes and was actually able to get off of it in a timely manner. I did not take my medication this day as I had an important test to take and did not want to experience side effects. Noted that I had been experiencing difficulty recalling words/phrases while on the medication, but did not have that problem when I skipped it. Also noted that I had been experiencing...not "paranoia" exactly, but like I had to double check if I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't hallucinating or anything, just making sure my eyes were working lol. Said that I felt good and energized and had actually started feeling normal--not my usual exhausted, lethargic, irritable normal, but actually normal. Happy and looking forward to my day normal. There was a short period in the day where I started to feel a bit of a headache, but I drank some water and it disappeared. Also, I aced my test!
Day 9: Fairly normal. Started having a little bit of shortness of breath after taking my medication, but it passed fairly quickly. Started working on a project ahead of time, which was nice. Took a nap mid day which delayed my bedtime for a couple of hours. Otherwise, good day.
Day 10: Woke up feeling surprisingly well rested, despite not getting my typical 8 hours of sleep the night prior. Today was another mostly normal day. I had another "start" of a headache that disappeared quickly. Still feeling a little forgetful, but less so. Said that it feels "less difficult to get up and do things," with the distinction that I still don't feel intrinsically motivated to do certain tasks. But I did my dishes, showered and washed my hair, and continued working on the project. My word recall is noticeably improved as I resume talking at my normal speed rate and say less filler words. Went to bed late again (around 2 AM when my usual bedtime is 12).
Day 11: Woke up feeling VERY anxious. I'm going through some career transition right now and every single thought I was having about it that morning was making me panic. I had to make a concerted effort to take deep breaths, but was able to calm myself down enough to get a bit more sleep. Not super unusual, but definitely unpleasant. Otherwise, normal day.
Day 12-14: No side effects at all! Normal sleep, normal appetite, no headaches, no dry mouth, no high feeling, nada. I feel good and happy. Maybe a tad sweatier than I usually am, but that's bearable (and encourages me to shower more). Still have not cleaned my apartment, but I technically have the energy to do so.
Other notes:
submitted by shrwbwgy to bupropion [link] [comments]
I (F23) got [officially] diagnosed with mild/moderate depression and anxiety on April 17th and had had a kind of "pre"-diagnosis of ADHD PI a year or so prior just to give an idea of what I was dealing with. I started taking Bupropion SR 100mg on April 18th. Coming up on week 3 and I have to say I'm feeling pretty damn good, yall. I recorded a lil bit of my experience (almost) every day so here's a recap:
Week 1:
Day 1: Ate it with greek yogurt around 11 AM ish. I felt what was closest to a slight caffeine buzz within a couple hours of taking it (I took it in the AM and do not consume any caffeine). I know people say you can't feel it that soon but I definitely noticed something. Later in the day I felt a lil...more aroused than I usually do during that time of the month. That was interesting. Otherwise the day was normal.
Day 2: Took it at 7:30 AM, no food. Woke up that morning and noticed my heart rate was a little quickened and I had some racing thoughts. That's not unusual for me though. Day was normal.
Day 3: Headaches and a lil queasiness. The headache wasn't like an eye strain headache, but like a pressure headache as though I had head congestion. I rated it a 3-4 on the pain scale. The headache did start to pound before I went to sleep. The queasiness had lessened my appetite as I felt some difficulty swallowing, but I did nibble throughout the day. Also started drinking more water. I felt a little dehydrated and noticed slight dry mouth. Energy wise I felt good and handled some administrative stuff. I exercised a little bit too! Felt like I was getting more distracted by sounds than usual, like if my phone ringer was going off or a siren was going by I couldn't quite get my thoughts together. Lastly noticed that I was using more filler words like "um" as I felt I was processing words slower. Just as a note, the ADHD assessment I did with my Psych NP noted a slight auditory impairment. Not saying that's definitive by any means, but it's good to know. Aside from the side effects, I felt energized and "happier."
Day 4: My sleep leading into day 4 was not great as I was in and out of sleep. This was the first sleep issue I had had, but I can't definitively attribute it to the medication because I regularly have cycles of good sleep and bad sleep. Woke up feeling like I could use some more rest. Headache was gone, I was extremely thirsty. Queasiness gone. In the video I recorded, I could see some water retention in my face. During my evening check-in I noted that I felt a lot of pressure in my head, behind my eyes, and in my jaw, likening it to a tension headache. I also felt like I had been clenching my jaw (I probably had been grinding my teeth in my sleep as I have a history of that). Had a noticeably dry mouth despite drinking lots of water. Started sweating more and had some temperature fluctuations. The energy "buzz" I felt during the first 3 days had started to wane.
Day 5/6: Noted that the meds help with energy levels and having a general sense of contentedness, but not with time management and productivity. Has looked like me struggling to unglue myself from my iPad, but not experiencing the same level of anxiety and feeling "trapped" on it like I had in the past. I had the energy to get off, but not the will, if that makes any sense. I was still experiencing a level of difficulty with showering (this was day 3/4 no shower) and cleaning my apartment. Had a very dry cough that woke me up on night 6. Made some tea and went to sleep.
Day 7: I felt high. High like I had consumed some kind of sativa cannabis. I didn't feel impaired per se, but "floaty/spacey" and like I was "coming up" on something. Maybe I could liken it a little more to the effect of coming up on a micro dose of acid? I did not love this feeling as it was very distracting. I could get things done, but it felt uncomfortable and I questioned if I was "intoxicated." The intoxicated feeling gradually transitioned into a headache within a few hours. So, felt "high" for maybe 4-6 hours. Then headache.
Week 2:
Day 8: Slept very good the night prior and woke up very early. Got on my phone for a few minutes and was actually able to get off of it in a timely manner. I did not take my medication this day as I had an important test to take and did not want to experience side effects. Noted that I had been experiencing difficulty recalling words/phrases while on the medication, but did not have that problem when I skipped it. Also noted that I had been experiencing...not "paranoia" exactly, but like I had to double check if I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't hallucinating or anything, just making sure my eyes were working lol. Said that I felt good and energized and had actually started feeling normal--not my usual exhausted, lethargic, irritable normal, but actually normal. Happy and looking forward to my day normal. There was a short period in the day where I started to feel a bit of a headache, but I drank some water and it disappeared. Also, I aced my test!
Day 9: Fairly normal. Started having a little bit of shortness of breath after taking my medication, but it passed fairly quickly. Started working on a project ahead of time, which was nice. Took a nap mid day which delayed my bedtime for a couple of hours. Otherwise, good day.
Day 10: Woke up feeling surprisingly well rested, despite not getting my typical 8 hours of sleep the night prior. Today was another mostly normal day. I had another "start" of a headache that disappeared quickly. Still feeling a little forgetful, but less so. Said that it feels "less difficult to get up and do things," with the distinction that I still don't feel intrinsically motivated to do certain tasks. But I did my dishes, showered and washed my hair, and continued working on the project. My word recall is noticeably improved as I resume talking at my normal speed rate and say less filler words. Went to bed late again (around 2 AM when my usual bedtime is 12).
Day 11: Woke up feeling VERY anxious. I'm going through some career transition right now and every single thought I was having about it that morning was making me panic. I had to make a concerted effort to take deep breaths, but was able to calm myself down enough to get a bit more sleep. Not super unusual, but definitely unpleasant. Otherwise, normal day.
Day 12-14: No side effects at all! Normal sleep, normal appetite, no headaches, no dry mouth, no high feeling, nada. I feel good and happy. Maybe a tad sweatier than I usually am, but that's bearable (and encourages me to shower more). Still have not cleaned my apartment, but I technically have the energy to do so.
Other notes:
- Mild constipation. Not enough to not poop all day, but enough to have less poops per day.
- Hot flashes/temperature fluctuations. There was one day I stood up from my seat and my whole abdomen was covered in sweat. I am a somewhat sweaty person already, but that was kinda wild.
- I've been brushing my teeth almost every night! That's huge! Before I would be in bed and would set dozens of alarms to get up to make myself brush my teeth (and often would just say "fuck it" and not do it). Now, I think about it and I go. I also purchased a night time mouth guard on day 10 or 11, which probably also helped lessen the headaches and jaw tension.
- Still snacking for stimulation a lot. This was something I thought the meds would fix as it's said to lessen appetite. Generally speaking, my appetite has not changed. I actually notice more when I'm hungry and have more energy to feed myself.
- It doesn't seem to matter whether I take it with food or not.
- I did have slight hand tremors one day. I think I might've taken the medication later in the morning that day (between 10 and 11 instead of my usual 7:30-8:30). It was gone by evening. I also notice I bounce my leg more and feel "chattier" than usual, which is odd as a staunch introvert.