I feel like I should open this up by saying that I think this is kind of a dumb question, so I'm sorry up front.
I'm doing a campaign with a fair amount of travel, and as such my group is traveling through more than one town. Most of my friends listen to DND podcasts with DMs who are freaking voice actors, and honestly I just can't compete with that. All of my effort goes into keeping my Mississippi accent tamped down, I cannot mask it with an entirely different accent or varying speech patterns, so I feel a bit inadequate when it comes to interactions as it is and let most dialogue happen after the players have initiated it, lol.
Looking for ways to spice this up, I guess. The first village they went to everyone was friendly but not immediately forthcoming, so they had to dig it out of them and earn their trust before getting to the quest. The second was a small kingdom, everyone was cursed and therefore hostile, so there was a battle before the party could leave.
They're coming up on a third town, and I'm trying to figure out how to make the town friendly? It's a quest where their goal is to find some missing town people + stop an evil artificer so the goal isn't anything particularly special, I am just... I'm realizing I'm not super great at writing off-the-bat friendly characters, and I've only played in like 4-5 campaigns anyway so it's not like I'm the most experienced overall and haven't seen a town yet that's super forthcoming.
I have several rumors written that I can pass on from the townspeople to the party, but still kind of struggling with those initial welcoming interactions. Any advice?

Backstory because I feel it’s relevant and could answer questions you may have. My brother, David married Angela when they were 21 and 23. I was 10 years old at the time. David and I were a team, he was my caretaker and guardian because my parents were struggling with addiction (they’ve since sobered up). David was older than me, and well aware of the issues between my parents—David had a different dad. From the beginning, Angela did not like me being around. I understood, even as a kid, that my time with my brother was over. We got along for the most part in the beginning. Then the comments started about me. She’d say things like, “Please don’t use my brush, you could have bugs.” She would make fun of my dark brown skin (she is white), always calling me a lil snot nosed orphan because my parents left me, or constantly grab my body to point out that I’m overweight, often saying, “what’s this?” with a handful of my tummy. I was just a kid, but I was mature for my age given my parents absence. I knew what she was doing when she said that shit with fake concern in her voice or a grin as she walked away. She wanted me out. She turned my brother against me, he then resented me for being there. I was scared, I had nowhere safe to go. I left anyway. I went back to my reservation because I’d rather be there than somewhere I wasn’t wanted. I wasn’t unruly as a kid. I learned respect very early. I grew up on a farm with strict traditional grandparents so I knew the value of work, good attitude, and rising early. I could cook, clean, and drive by 10. I got myself back to the Rez on a greyhound bus. I had no choice. I left my brother’s apartment on my own and never went back. Angela had taken my brother and there was no use fighting it. They went on to have 2 kids, both of whom I love very much. They are all that’s left of him and I protect them with everything I have.
David committed suicide a year after I left his home. No closure, no note, nothing. I never felt right about it. It still burns in my heart. Before he passed he told me and my mom that he was served with divorce papers and he moved into his own place. I mentioned the divorce to Angela, she immediately denied any of it. She said there was no talk of divorce. This was the first red flag because why was he living in an apartment when he died? Two years later I find out she’s been dating my brother’s best friend! That was weird, I remember feeling very upset but there was nothing I could do. I did not have a very close relationship with Angela and we talked maybe once a year when I’d make the annual bday phone call. I felt it strange that she moved on so quickly with his bff. On the other hand, she befriended my mother via phone and started referring to her as her true Mom. My mom is very naive and only sees rainbows and balloons everywhere so of course she obliged.
About 4 years after David passed, she remarried. Great, so awesome! I was happy for her. My nieces were in their early teens by this time so I was feeling relieved that I kept it cool with Angela long enough to have the girls in my life. That was always my goal, even though I didn’t like her—she deserved my respect for giving me some beautiful nieces. My mom was very welcoming to Angela at all times. I feel that was partially because she felt guilt that Angela and David had to take me in for a bit when I was a kid.
Fast forward to 2020–Angela has bombarded her way back into my family. I figured, “Hey we’re all older and she’s not who she was then!” I started a dialogue with Angela because my oldest niece was getting married. Angela was cool at first, I opened up to her about my struggles with addiction and I thought we had finally reached an understanding as two adult women. I paid for the entire wedding out of respect for my brother. It was the right thing to do. I thought I was just writing a check on behalf of my brother. That’s not what happened. Sh*t, I just bought my brother’s widow. She was back in my life full force. Not only my life, but my whole family’s lives. She has them on Facebook, we are trapped! She inserts herself into our traditional ceremonies and even wears/carries sacred items (she is non-native). It’s so wrong—and everybody knows it but they look to my mom to address it and she doesn’t. She still calls me “little sister,” and I’m like uh-uh honey I have one sibling and you’re not it. She is annoying and just plain unaware. It’s to the point that she is assuming she will be in my own wedding party, at my graduation, and at my ceremonies. It’s just too much! Mind you, I don’t have any celebrations so it’s not like she’s been coming to my bday for years. I am not alone in these feelings, as my entire family (sans mom) is annoyed by her presence. It’s very hard to explain—she just has no self awareness and it’s uncomfortable for everyone, especially traditional elders. We have many non-native people married into our family, but they respect our ways and participate in a limited fashion, always asking before making any moves or speaking to medicine men. Angela just goes in like it’s a Sunday football game. She doesn’t get it, and it’s been nearly 30 years wtf.
2021 comes around then boom! Her second husband ALSO commits suicide. Yes people! Naturally, I’m supportive during this time. This is my niece’s step father, the only father they know (babies when David passed). I was so appreciative of this man. He helped mold my nieces into great women. I respected him so much for his kind heart. I liked him so much more than Angela lol. When this happened I thought to myself, “Hmm, that’s not right.” You know how people say, “I shouldn’t have ignored the signs,” or “trust your gut”?? Well all the bells are going off at this point. What is this lady doing in her life that her husbands are offing themselves like this? I know depression can hide behind a smile, but this is a pattern. It’s weird. I believe it’s dangerous to involve yourself with someone whose life is in that much chaos 24/7. Is this Karma for something bad? Or worse, is there more to it? My mind spins at the thought.
Two months ago, Angela starts hanging around my uncle. All the time. She’s at his house, he’s at hers. My mom found out and was so hurt because they wouldn’t be honest about spending time together. They denied it even though it was in plain sight (vehicles at each other’s homes). It doesn’t matter if there is nothing going on, it’s inappropriate on both sides. They never had any sort of relationship prior to this. There’s no law stopping them, but it’s just another display of how dumb and unaware this chick is. Now she’s pissed me off. You don’t get to marry my brother then get with his friend and now get cozy with my uncle. Now, I can deal with my uncle, I know how to talk to his stubborn self. I hardly know him so it’s no big loss if I never speak to him again. It’s Angela I have a hard time with. At some point someone has to honor David and stick up for him. Nobody listened to me when I warned them about Angela as a kid. I knew she wasn’t balanced. She only acted that way in front of people, she treated me awful behind closed doors. She’s gotta be delusional if she thinks I forgot any of that. I’ve had it simmering in the back of my mind. I even dismissed most of her actions back then because she was also a kid. You may ask, why don’t you just tell her off then? Well, that’s tough. My nieces mean the world to me. I don’t want to hurt them by rejecting their mom.
This is where I need help. How do I get Angela out of my life without harming the relationship I have with my nieces? The recently married one is pregnant so I don’t want to do anything to disrupt her focus and clarity during this time. I want her to stay happy and healthy so I think I’ll drop the bomb after the birth. I don’t have children but I know it’s a sensitive time for an expectant mother. Both nieces are adults and the need for their mom in the mix isn’t required anymore. I worry about severing ties because Angela is on like 80 different anti-depressants and PTSD/Anxiety meds for her severe bi-polar disorder. She is known to turn on the drama and really freak out. I’ve seen it happen and it’s really something.
I know I let this go on for too long without saying anything and it’s probably me to blame as I’ve let her go on thinking this was acceptable. I bit my tongue for so long. I did it so I could keep the kids close to me. How/what do I say to Angela to get her to exit my life? I’ve ignored calls/texts, she then starts asking my family on Facebook why I’m not responding, leaving me no choice but to respond. I cannot escape this person. I wasn’t the one they said til death do us part. I’m so mad at David for leaving me with his wife lol. HELP.
TLDR: I tolerated my brother’s widow in order to remain close to the children. How do I cut her off without hurting her (now adult) children?

[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]

Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”

He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?

Let me preface by saying that I am fully aware that working out is driven by discipline, rather than motivation. I have been trying to come from a place of grace and compassion -- but there's a duality between being too lenient and just pushing for what I believe is best for myself. Back when I was a personal trainer, I loved working out 5-6 times/ week. It was pretty much a religion. Of course, now that I'm in grad school, the process has slowed down a bit but I was able to maintain a healthy level of activity until the past couple months.
April was finals season. This was compounded with prepping for job interviews, scholarship/grant writing, and family health issues on both my end and my partners family. I had to travel 16 hours out to see my family, completely eliminating all activities I normally do for 2-3 weeks (including jet lag both ways), in addition to my depression and anxiety that was beginning to skyrocket simultaneously since winter. Maybe this was partially due to my drop in activity (i.e. I rely on exercise as my handy-dandy anti-depressant).
Due to travel, my medical conditions (new meds unrelated to mental health), and final exams, the entirety of March and April went out the window. It’s only gotten worse, now that I’ve secured a WFH remote position that doesn’t allow me to move around as much. I’ve been considering of purchasing a walking pad, at the very least, to get my blood flowing.
Since then, I’ve been sleeping in more lately and with longer duration, averaging between 9-10 hours. I cannot figure out for the life of me whether this is because I haven’t been as active = feeling more lazy (cyclical pattern), or if the “trauma” of everything so far requires me to have a deep reset.
In the past few weeks, I can honestly say that I have tried to restart my routine by putting myself out there — whether that’s running, lifting, climbing, etc. Yet, every time I go, it feels like it’s been half-assed, or I’ve been exhausting myself beyond comparison. It’s also only half of the duration/effort I normally put in. AGAIN, trying to come from a place of compassion and setting my expectations low but...
There’s a psychological component, where it feels incredibly discouraging that I have to start from ground zero...again.
Despite the concept of muscle memory, I can’t seem to find the level of resilience I once had. It almost feels complacent to me now.
I am also cognizant that the new medication might be impacting my mental health conditions, which could be exacerbating all of my symptoms.
Long story short, I'm beginning to justify my actions and convincing myself that I need this deep rest— to hibernate. (but for how long, who knows? is this just clinical depression lol?)
All to say - theoretically, I would love to get myself back on track. I know LOGICALLY it would make me feel better. But when I try, it doesn’t feel good and results with little to no reward.
Any advice if anyone has been in this similar situation?

First real love, first break up
I'm in my 30s and we met in our 20s. It was a LTR, engaged, family... all the works. It's been over a year and I'm doing so much better. It's true that healing takes time, but it takes continuous effort on your part. Pain is the best motivation to become a better person. Use the pain for the best glow up of your life. I know a lot of people talk about going to the gym, traveling, hobbies, spending time with family/friends.. but don't neglect your mental health. If you don't learn from your break up, you will repeat the patterns in your next relationship. Even if your ex was toxic/abusive, you had a part in the relationship too. I have learned that not everyone learns from heartbreak or grief. Most people a have a victim mentality and that prevents them from major growth. Lean into your emotions and dig deep.
After a good year and half of heartbreak, grief, and constantly working on myself, I'm a true believer of loving yourself before you can love someone else. I loved my ex tremendously and gave her my all, but after major reflection, it wasn't the capacity I truly had within me. I gave her the emotional capacity I had at the time, and it wasn't very much. All the tears I cried this past year is the love I didn't give her, and the tears I cry today, is the imaginary relationship we could have had if I knew what I know now. With that being said, I would go through the heartbreak again if it meant becoming the person I am today. I understand now that she wasn't meant to be my forever person. Our relationship was meant to teach a lesson about ourselves and I'm so glad I took the opportunity. I needed this major growth to love myself and see my worth. I know I'll love deeper and harder in my next relationship.
I actually bumped into my ex and I realized she didn't grow. She dumped me and she moved onto someone else. She doesn't see her faults and she still has a victim mentality. I realized after bumping into her that she wasn't for me and I was so wrong about her. What I want in a relationship now is so much different than what I wanted when I was with her. I'm not going to lie though, I got jealous that she moved on while I've been in the trenches. I was devastated when I found out it was only a few months after the break up, while I was still holding onto hope. I got jealous when I found out she's moving in with her new person so suddenly and they are doing things together that I've always wanted to do with her. It hurts. But comparing yourself to your ex does no good. All that does is bring more pain. The truth is that you are on different paths and what they do is no longer your concern.
After more than a year, I'm not 100% healed, but I'm coming to terms that she will always hold a special place in my heart. The pain I carry now is more about loneliness and abandonment wounds than it does about being with her. We are just not meant to be together. What held me back the most was hoping she would return. I was so in love with her and I wanted her so badly, that I was blinded by it. Even though she ignored all my messages, never reached out, never checked my social media, or gave any hint she wanted me back.... I kept hoping. I entertained thoughts of getting back together. I assumed she was in pain just as much as I was. That hope kept me back. If I had any advice to give, I highly suggest keeping no contact and completely focus on yourself. Dive into healing yourself. Your thoughts are WRONG about them. Learn how to redirect your thoughts or challenge them through CBT.
I'm in a place now where I'm okay being single and dating scares me, but I'm putting myself out there. I've been on a few dates and even though nothing has stuck, I've met a few women who align with who I am today. One of the biggest things I want in my next relationship is emotional availability and a deep understanding of grief. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't understand the loss of a loved one or having experience major growth. I want to be with someone who can take accountability for their actions instead of victimizing themselves. My ex wasn't those things during our relationship and if she doesn't want to take the time to grow from our relationship or see my worth, that's her loss. After so much therapy, self-improvement, and diving deep into psychology and relationships... I am a needle in a haystack and whoever ends up with me will have the golden ticket.
I understand how hard it is to lose someone you love. It's so hard and some days it feels like you can't make it. I'm here to tell you that you can get through it. You can push through. Take each day at a time. Take advantage of the pain and use it to grow. Become a better version of yourself and show up for YOURSELF in ways you haven't before. Don't go back to your ex. You will find love again. You have so much worth and you are deserving of love.

Mastering Statistics: Top Online Resources for Success
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Statistics can be a tough subject, but with the right resources, you can conquer it! Whether you're a student or a professional, online statistics classes offer flexibility and convenience. In this blog, we'll explore the best online statistics class help, covering resources, courses, and tips for success.Resources:

1. Khan Academy (khanacademy.org): Free statistics courses, video lectures, and practice exercises.
2. Coursera (coursera.org): Offers statistics courses from top universities like Stanford and Duke.
3. edX (edx.org): Provides statistics courses and certifications from leading institutions.
4. Statisticshelp.com: Offers online tutoring, homework help, and study resources.
5. DataCamp (datacamp.com): Interactive statistics and data science courses.

Courses:

1. "Introduction to Statistics" by Khan Academy
2. "Statistics in Medicine" by University of London on Coursera
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4. "Statistical Inference" by Stanford University on Coursera
5. "Data Visualization" by DataCamp

Tips for Success:

1. Practice regularly with online resources and exercises.
2. Join online communities and forums for support and discussion.
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Mastering statistics requires effort, but with the right online resources and support, you can achieve success. Utilize these top online statistics class helps, courses, and tips to improve your understanding and application of statistical concepts. Embrace the power of statistics and unlock new possibilities in your academic and professional journey!
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TOP 20 REASONS WHY I'M THE MOST LEGIT EXAM, HW, ONLINE CLASS TUTOR ON REDDIT:

1. Team of U.S. Academic Experts: I and my team of dedicated academic experts complete all types of academic coursework for students in most math, English, science, business, humanities, social Sciences, computer programming, and foreign language classes on a 24/7/365 full-time round-the-clock basis. This is not some part-time gig for me. It’s literally my primary source of income. I can regularly make myself available to help students with last-minute & same-day academic requests.
2. Essay Writing Skills: I can write essays & research papers in native U.S. American English and fluent Canadian English using APA MLA Harvard Chicago Vancouver OSCOLA IEEE formatting & citations.
3. 75+ Types of Academic Software: I am highly skilled & experienced in using over 75+ types of academic software and educational platforms including the following: ALEKS, Blackboard, Brightspace, Canvas, Cengage, WebAssign, ConnectMath, Crowdmark, D2L, Moodle, Pearson MyLab and Mastering, MyMathLab, MyStatLab, MyOpenMath, StraighterLine, WebWork, and Wiley.
4. Can Change IP Address: I have multiple reliable VPN software including: NordVPN, SurfShark & ExpressVPN that allows me to successfully change my computer’s original New Jersey IP address to any major city in the U.S. & Canada to avoid raising red flags with students’ online class software.
5. Proctored Exam Help: I have developed multiple highly effective methods of helping students with exams, tests, and quizzes that are proctored by software like: Respondus Lockdown Browser with Webcam, Honorlock, Examity, Proctorio, Proctor360, Proctortrack, and ProProctor using 3 highly effective proven methods. Option 1 - WhatsApp: I use WhatsApp to have the student discreetly text me photos of the exam questions outside of the webcam’s view and I text them the correct solutions to the exam questions. Option 2 - Screen Share: Using screen share software like Zoom to see the student’s screen displaying the exam questions and I text the correct solutions. Option 3 - Remote PC Access & Control: Using remote computer access software like to control the student’s mouse and keyboard from my own computer.
6. Study Help Apps: I have over 15+ paid subscriptions to a wide range of study help apps, software, websites, and programs to help me solve exam & homework questions faster and more efficiently. Some of these resources include: Brainly, Chegg, CourseHero, Quizlet, SymboLab & WolframAlpha.
7. Calculators & Math Software: I have access to a very sophisticated graphing calculator and various mathematical software that provides step-by-step solutions to complex mathematical problems within seconds, allowing me to provide exact solutions to the student in a timely manner.
8. Test Taking Techniques: I have developed highly effective methods to determine the correct answers to questions that I’m not already familiar with including process of elimination, working backwards, quickly searching for similar questions online, and utilizing standardized test taking techniques taught only in elite standardized test prep tutoring programs.
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10. Live Exam Help Videos: I am the only verified U.S.-based online exam hw online class help tutor with a highly successful YouTube Channel where I regularly upload live unedited videos of me actually completing exams, quizzes & homework assignments for other students and clearly explain my entire thought process and display on-screen all the steps, apps, websites, and software I use to compute the correct answers.
11. Flexible Payment Methods: I offer negotiable rates, multiple payment methods (PayPal, Venmo, Cash App, Zelle, anonymous credit & debit card payments via online invoice), and flexible payment plans: weekly (most expensive), monthly, half-now / half-later, and all-up-front (least expensive).
12. Money Back Guarantee: I have won multiple academic awards for my exceptional skills & expertise in math. I guarantee overall A & B grades for all coursework completed. Plus. I also offer a 50% refund for C+, C, and C- scores, and a full 100% refund for D+, D, D-, and F scores.

HOW I CALCULATE FINAL RATES:

• Exams & Quizzes: Final rates for exams and quizzes depend on various factors including: whether or not there is proctoring, how many hours the exam is, total number of questions including sub-parts, preferred method of me delivering solutions, whether it's show all work or just the answer only, and whether the assessment has a flexible window of time to complete or a fixed & rigid start and end time.
• Full Courses: Final rates for full class help depend all the foregoing plus: total number of hw, quizzes, exams, discussion posts, and other academic tasks left that need to be completed, total number of weeks or modules left in the class to complete, and whether there is required multi factor authentication for logging in like Duo Push or text passcode.
• Essays Papers Discussion Posts: Final rates for writing tasks depend on the required number of words or pages. topic of interest, type of citations, required number and type of sources & bibliography style , level of research required, and type of additional software required to complete the essay like: Excel, R, or Minitab.

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your comptia or any other WGU Exam or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ABOUT MY RATES & PAYMENT OPTIONS:

• Rationale for My Rates: I sincerely believe my rates are more than fair considering my education, skills, native born U.S. resident status, legitimacy, and the substantial amount of value, stress relief, and saved time & energy I’d be providing you in exchange for my valuable, irretrievable time, energy, and effort.
• Disclaimer About Rates: Completing someone else's exam, essay, or homework assignment is obviously NOT something you can just freely ask anyone to do, especially on the internet. Therefore, such help should be well-compensated. Services that are reliable and deliver high-quality results are difficult to find and are very high in demand. Thus, I expect to be compensated fairly for all the value, stress relief, and saved time & energy my services provide. However, I may be willing to negotiate rates if necessary.
• Payment Methods: I accept PayPal (required for all Canadian students), Venmo, Zelle, Cash App, and anonymous credit & debit card payments via online invoice.
• Payment Plans: I offer the following payment plans for my services: weekly (most expensive), monthly, half-now / half-later, and all upfront (least expensive).
• Money Back Guarantee: I guarantee the following grades for coursework completed: A+. A, A-, B+, B. and B-. However, I offer a 50% refund for C+, C, and C- grades, and a full 100% refund for D+, D, D-, and F grades.

CURRENT RATES -- AS OF SUMMER / FALL 2022 -- SUBJECT TO CHANGE:

• Full Class Help Rates: $595 – $2495 USD
• Exam & Test Help Rates: $150 – $350 USD
• Quiz Help Rates: $60 – $180 USD
• HW Assignment Help Rates: $60 – $420 USD
• Essay & Paper Writing Help Rates: $19 – $29 USD per 300 words

THE OBLIGATORY "IS THIS A SCAM?" QUESTION:
Considering the fact that you found my contact information online, it’s understandable to be skeptical regarding the legitimacy of my services. Therefore, I’m willing to do all of the following to help you feel more secure in trusting me with your academic needs:

• Engage in a Telephone interview: Speak with you on the phone and answer any questions you may have so that you have the opportunity to assess and analyze my tone, articulation, and accent. I’m a New Jersey-born Irish/Italian-American, but I have been told that I speak in an erudite & articulate suburban American accent with a “professor style” voice somewhat resembling the voice of actor: Ben Stein.
• Provide Telephone References: Provide you with the contact information of students who have utilized my services in the past who would be more than willing to vouch for my skills.

MY REBUTTAL TO THE OBLIGATORY “IS THIS A SCAM?” QUESTION:
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I consider myself to be at least marginally more intelligent (both academically & socially) than the average person. Therefore, if I ever decided to suddenly risk prison time, risk my reputation, and risk enduring the wrath of modern-day “cancel culture” by scamming people out of their money:

• Not Worth the Money: I certainly wouldn’t do it for such paltry amounts of money. (i.e., anything less than $1,000 per victim.)
• Most Students are Broke: I certainly wouldn’t choose high school & college students as my “target audience” to scam, considering that most people without college degrees have abysmally low annual incomes.
• Waste of Time & Energy: Communicating back and forth with potential clients is an absurdly long time sink since only less than 10% of all potential clients who reach out to me actually become paying clients of mine.
• All My Payment Apps are Still Active: If you pay me to provide academic services and I don’t deliver, you can always dispute the payment with the payment app and easily get your money refunded. If I were in the habit of swindling money from people, then all of my payment accounts would have been investigated and be completely shut down by now.
• My Mission: Thank you for taking the time to read my Reddit post. I take what I do very seriously and I always strive to get the highest possible grades for all students who entrust me with their coursework.
• Closing Words: Please feel free to reach out to me if you're sincerely interested in having help you with your school work. I am available via text, email, and call almost 24/7/365.

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Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

Meta

Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)

Does anyone have any good methods to farm specific random dungeons? I’m on console so no save guardian, and I have a high speed build on. Just getting tired of rerolling yaesha after running through it entirely and checking every side dungeon. I’ve been doing all three world variants for several hours and checking every side dungeon to no avail. Haven’t even had a lament pop up once surprisingly, although luckily I don’t need it.
To clarify, is there a specific yaesha variant (ravager, destroyer, lydusa) where it’s actually faster or easier to reach and check all the side dungeons available and/or what are the best methods you guys use to search for dungeons?
With Nerud it’s really easy because I can tell from halfway across the map whatever the dungeons are for the most part so it saves tons of time entering all of them using the lifts, I’m wondering as well if there’s any visual signs for the dungeon variants with the entrances that I’m not picking up the pattern on visually. Can’t find any videos that go over these though.
Even Losomn you can tell if you’re going to enter a burning dungeon variant because of the entrance covered with flames. Sorry this is long.

I don't know who needs to read this but I'm inspired by this agent's post along with some recent drama in my clan, where we've had a constant pattern of a new member joining, then saying they want to do raids/incursion/legendaries/etc, who then slams the game for 3 weeks, and then drop off the face of the Earth. A month later, we then have to kick them for being inactive and find a replacement. The clan thing is just an example, since I've seen this pattern emerge with other players and even in other games.
Before I continue, I'm a SHD 700+ player who has roughly 500 hours over the past year, and came back a year ago after taking a 4-year break.
A lot of people on here talk about "grinding" towards SHD 1k or "grinding" to do the raids. At risk of sounding patronizing, the grind towards SHD 1k and higher-level content in TD2 in general is only a grind if you make it a grind. If you play this game in moderation, you can get where you want to go without sacrificing your enjoyment of the game and your mental state. Everyone is different but here's what worked for me:
First, I only play a few nights a week. I'm not sure how many people here work out, but most people gym goers I know only do a few days of lifting a week. Even the serious "gym rats" do like an hour max a day over five days. If they lifted 15 hours a week, they would seriously injure themselves and have to take a break. In that same vein, playing this game 15 hours, heck even 10 hours a week is a lot. It may be okay for the first few weeks, but then you overfatigue and have to take a break. With the rework of the daily and weekly projects, you can play three nights a week and get seven exotic components. That's not even including components from random drops or CPs.
Second, I switch up my build often. I play with people who run the same thing day in day out and they have a miserable vibe. If you had the same thing for every meal wouldn't you get bored and hate that meal? There are a lot of issues with the expertise system, but a good thing about it is that it actively encourages you to try different builds and use different guns, armor, and skills. Getting loot nowadays in this game is way easier than it was 5 years ago. We have Countdown and targeted loot. Making a new build that can handle Challenging content takes an hour at most. You're the only one forcing yourself to use your Strikers, HF, or "meta" build.
While this game is technically a "grind," viewing things as a grind isn't fun, and games are supposed to be fun. I've found this game more fun in moderation, and if you're not enjoying the game currently, you probably need to switch things up moderate your play time. You may also need a break. That's okay too.

f/22 i have something wrong with me. idk what or even if it’s a pd but something i have always had. preface i do have an anxious attachment and ADHD and OCD and have HIGHLY masked my whole life with ADHD. i stopped masking so much when i left for college bc my highschool town was AWFUL and so judgemental of everything. i had lots of friends that were of some status in town but never super close really to any of them but a few. they’ve all forgotten me and stopped talking to me now. when i was in hs i felt like EVERYONE masked even neurotypical bc my town was just like that (southern US college town for you). i feel like i have ALWAYS just had this innate need to feel VALUED. like it rules my life. Teachers, friends, boys…. i want to feel like DESIRABLE (in the most shallow sense) people value me. Like, nothing was a greater compliment from someone i didn’t even like really but was super pretty and popular and kinda cool but popular and rich nonetheless, told me she thought i was funny and seemed like she liked hanging out with me that night. Boys who had status liking me was my life. it consumed my life. it’s all i cared about when it was happening. i constantly daydreamed of dating a guy and being more popular for dating them but not really changing myself necessarily. I wanted men who gave me attention but weren’t reserved to snatching it away and making me try harder to prove i’m desirable like a fucking show pony or something. i would hoard secrets and get out crumbs of intimacy on the first few times of talking. I have always wanted to be the CENTER of attention but, and this is key and crucial, not to a CROWD. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable than all the crowds eyes on me. i become SO crushingly insecure when that happens and can only think about a booger in my nose or a roll of fat or bad posture or them seeing my forehead wrinkles. I don’t crave attention from crowds of 3+ more people. i just want to captivate the person i want to think i’m interesting. I want to be desired by a person i deem desirable and at that second in time, only them. i get off on intimacy with people, it’s all i want. i want to know every secret they have even if i don’t CARE truly ab them and i wanna know it quick so they will ultimately remember i held their intimate details so carefully. I want to be so extremely intimate (while minding social cues) with people i meet and find worthy. but if they’re too easy to get (friends and men) then i really do not care. their attention becomes nothing to me. there has to be a constant, even subliminal, game(proving that i am desirable or different or special) for me to feel like i NEED them. it’s defeating when i feel like they never realize at all so i don’t like that, there has to be some validation here and there. It rules my life. a guy told me once he believes that there is just some “neuroticism” i will never get rid of. i have been thinking about that constantly since. even tho i’m trying to grow and fix my anxious attachment that need for attention is still ruling my life. it’s almost like i just wanna be able to scream I TOLD YOU SO but i need to keep repeating that pattern forever to feel excitement and emotions in my life. if i solved all the i told you so’s i’d search for more to obsess about. i daydream all the time. also, i cope in a way when someone i thought was desirable but gave me NO attention ever except negative that i hate that person, they have some flaw and they are overhyped. if they don’t like me at all and can’t see anything at all that’s valuable in me then i hate them and they aren’t valuable. it’s ego but also something more. constantly proving myself is ruining my life but i can’t stop with doing it. it’s almost like i love it but it makes me so exhausted and sad. i feel like i’m not even a person sometimes. i have no hobbies that are past a surface level, i think things are cool but if i can’t do them or i’m not good at them i resent the hobby it’s like i don’t enjoy anything but learning about things. i learn to impress people when i can say i know something. hobbies too, hobbies to me are vehicles of impressing people and i want hobbies that are impressive but never too much to where i’d embarrass myself (like piano, i could never be amazing so i only know chords and it’s not a hobby i care about). I have embarrassed myself by liking things and making it known, i’m not amazing at. i have no self esteem, it’s like i’m just constantly coping with “oh they just don’t know me that’s why they don’t like me” or “something is wrong w them they know me but don’t value me” i’m so shallow, but i don’t act like it when trying to get desirables love. i give and give and give to try to be of value but i hate every second of giving. i just want the feeling of they value me. i don’t even want full on value and love it triggers me when people fully value me, unless i feel like i have put in so much work and earned their codependent-feeling validation. When people are good people and automatically love the effort and attention i give them and give it back i get triggered and stop valuing them as much and kinda ghost them. I HATE THAT about myself and feel so ashamed but my need for this unreachable attention and validation that i EARNED just eats me up constantly. i have no friends currently and the ones i have kinda don’t value me and make me feel embarrassed bc they don’t see me as desirable but love my attention and the effort i put in. i hate them for that but i guess it’s what i crave deep down. i think, well one day they’ll value me. they don’t post me on social media but post everyone else they are friends w, but act like i’m the realest person they know. it’s like they feel embarrassed of me but at the same time value my love and attention and effort so much they still hangout with me. can anyone point me in the direction bc this isn’t normal that this controls my whole life and even my personality. i feel like i have to mask so hard but also be socially-acceptably esoteric too. it’s so fucking hard. like i said all my interests have to be so INTERESTING but not too weird. it’s like i don’t even know what i really and truly like bc i constantly am focusing on how ill be perceived. i want to be normal but also esoteric. i want to be normal until someone i perceive as desirable and different let’s me unmask a little and GETS it. they find me endearing. please point me in the right direction. i’m losing my mind. i can’t live like this forever and want to know how to grow.

This is not a political position, but a thermodynamic one. The world is heading from a time of excess to a time of scarcity. With more people enjoying fewer comforts, humanity is faced with the direction it takes for the rest of our species' future on this planet and others: we can't fight each other for what's left or we can share with each other what we need.
This isn't - or has never before been - a serious question because this world has never felt universal hardship before. In the past, when any major scarcity was faced (with the exception of 536) there was always a neighboring ally to buffer the loss or an enemy to subjugate; until now, there has always been more. Climate change is a global pressure on a globalized economy. There are no external economies that are thriving to prop up the luxuries we've come to feel entitled to. When that luxury can no longer be provided, people are trained to blame each other and ask for the boss to complain about our level of service.
This is the attitude fueling the shift to the right "all this liberal 'science' bullshit has turned my country into a place i dont recognize. Time to get my country in order!", but like how the long term side effects of COVID will be blamed on the vaccine rather than the virus, humans are apparently hardwired to look for a person or institution that's responsible for their problems, because they live in a world that's manifestly run by humanity. Politicians don't help with this because they promise change that a large bureaucracy isn't capable of... every time they step in front of a mic. Politicians feed the sense that the world is divided into teams and the team that's running things is doing harm. They are the anti-vax evangelists of a world simply running out of good time as a result of spending all the good time since the end of WWII.
Humanity cannot fly. That shouldn't be arguable. It's a fundamental limit of our physiology that cannot be overcome without shedding everything about us that makes us human; brains are heavy. When we get on a plane, we are not 'flying', we are taking a bus full of people, strapping a rocket engine to it, and firing it in a ballistic trajectory toward our destination. For all the celebration of progress in the tech age, we still can't figure out how to move something forward without throwing something out the back. That's not just why planes are absurd but why they cannot continue to be considered a good invention. Think of how much fuel would need to be burned to rocket yourself across a lawn, let alone through the sky; it's an insane amount of fuel and an absurd justification for burning it, especially virtually all domestic travel can be accomplished by rail or bus... which also use the same principle of throwing out enough exhaust gasses out the back to displace the weight of the thing that's burning the fuel. When this thing is on the ground, it burns much less fuel than pushing it through the sky.
Humanity assumes novelty is benign. Im not sure if this is one of the hidden rules about capitalism that we all follow as a culture "have you seen the new x!? It's amazing and works way better than x-1!", or if we're evolutionarily programmed to assume new is good and the direction we should be heading in. In either case, it has allowed us to adopt planetary destruction as a necessary aspect of each of our lives. It isn't anything we do consciously, it is the background of our lives that feeds big industry and steals time from the future. It's our commute, our food, our total acceptance that running a furnace is fine despite getting all worked up about oil spills and fires when we see them uncontained. The maze we all run was designed to have as much distance as possible between you and the cheese at the end so you would spend half or more of your cheese burning calories to get from the start to the finish and repeat all over. It is why people feel the problem is too big for them: there is nothing one person can change in the part of the life they control that will redirect the planetary system away from collapse because it is the pattern of our lives that is the destructive part.
Since our shared pattern is so destructive, it is self limiting. We are feeling the effects of that now with COVID (forests being pushed toward ecological breakdown leads animals to look for new territory and new food, leading to conflict with species already there and malnutrition from food with an incomplete nutrient balance), extreme weather doing damage to vital infrastructure and shipping losses.
Which brings us back to Ukraine. The world needs a beacon. A Western country with the courage to model a sustainable lifestyle through active change. I assumed that would have been Canada but I was wrong. Instead, with Ukraine being forced to rebuild in a time where supplies have never been more expensive, and in a state where its people have gotten used to living without luxury, it can either be an incubator for redesigning human life to restore the environment rather than destroy it.
There is no stronger people to take on such a challenge and the world that has been paying for weapons to defend. If we can send explosives to break, we must send hands, tools, and materials to rebuild. If we rebuild the same way, the world will fall into war since the causal push of all existing conflict is space and resources or their control, and we will continue to pretend that individual human choices are to blame for war. We will continue to refuse to look deeper and will soon find ourselves in a position where taking up arms seems like the only solution left to us. If, on the other hand, the rest of us find the courage to look one step deeper and ask "why is the world falling to war? What is driving conflict?", we will see it is the same thing driving our thirst for more luxury and, hopefully, realize that the only survivable path to the future is one where we change our behavior to relieve the force that's pushing us in that direction.
When more is never enough, less is a horrifying concept. Without a model for how to happily live as a human in a self sufficient community, there will be no "green transition", there will only be more disease, more scarcity, and more conflict on the edge of that scarcity. The more each of us takes, the more we contribute to conflict around the world.
There is no way to make a car "green", just like there is no way to make a compostable battery. The problem isnt the means of conveyance, it is the distance we need to cover to survive. Whether or not we change our habits to adapt to this reality is inconsequential to its eventuality, it just seems absurd to ignore the reality of hardship until you're being strangled by it simply to "enjoy the time you have left".
If the war in Ukraine ends and the world moves in to turn it into the first net zero country, there is hope for a future for our species. If we act like everything was fine until a mad man decided to invade a sovereign country, war will spread like a fog descending on the world. Demands will be met by force as a result of people pushing for impossibly cheap access to resources. Slavery will return as the foundation of the global economy and, in all this horror, we will be hastening and worsening our own conditions.
Like a train whose tracks go over the grand canyon, humanity needs one last train stop to see what it looks like to live somewhere other than a train at constantly increasing speed. We need a model for a future that is too nebulous to explain: it must be seen and experienced, how much living can be done as humans on and with the land. If nothing else but to illustrate that a train going over a cliff was not a predetermined consequence of "human progress", and that a choice has been made to define that progress with the inventions of a few men, all of which run by stealing energy from the past and stability from the future. It would allow us to see the train from the outside and force us to question the value of a murder-suicide pact.
For the demonstration to be compelling, there can be no or very little carbon footprint for the country. Structures must be built from salvaged (cheap) material, focusing on isolated but functional communities.
We have already lost the battle to save most of what we recognize in our world but we don't need to continue to burn it all down. Since there is no more track for this paradigm, there is no consequence for trying something new and certain death and misery by doing the same. This message can be shared in every possible way, but without a demonstration of what it looks like on a cultural level, we will never have the discussion that leads to the choice to keep going or get off the death train.
We are not the creations or technology we obsess over, we are an ape descended species on a planet we're stuck with and have killed 80% of in 50 years. We cannot survive on a lifeless world because we are alive and life feeds on life to survive. I have a hard time getting people to relate to the rest of the living world as a branch of the same tree we belong to because of how separated we are from other life. The more life that's lost, the less we'll care about it being gone and the more committed we will be to our preoccupations to avoid having to face reality.
The cowardice ive encountered when it comes to facing reality has been incredibly disappointing and disturbing. We will pass laws in our country to prevent poaching and hunting in other countries where our emissions and lifestyle -guided by our laws- are pushing the same animals to total extinction. We will talk about this from a position of moral superiority, only, and will take no responsibility for the conditions our behavior has already created. There is no "border crisis", there are people being pushed out of their homes by new weather that has made those homes incompatible with survival. I've heard lots of Americans talking about moving north in response to climate shifts as if that is something completely different from what is happening on their southern border or in Europe. No one leaves their ancestral home to cause problems in another country, but if that country is responsible for the force that pushed them out, they should either stop pushing people out of their homes or open their borders. To refuse either is to accept that you live a life of evil and as the person that will one day deny you shelter to protect what they have.
These a new times with new stakes and new bad guys. The only good thing about being the bad guy is you can choose to stop, while your victims can only beg you to stop and, eventually, resist/insist on a different course. It is up to each and all of us how the future plays out. The party is over. No one gets to sit this out.

Hi, I know some of you have been interested in Joost’s written stuff, so this is one of them. It’s a short story that Joost wrote for Boekenweek voor Jongeren (Book Week for Young People) in 2019. There’s more info about it here (in Dutch) https://www.vice.com/nl/article/qvgzpv/joost-klein-schreef-een-kort-verhaal-over-een-wilde-nacht-in-berlijn and there was also this promo video for it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx7wxnpxps0. It's been translated from Dutch - maybe not the most perfect translation but it's readable. Original in Dutch here. Enjoy

"How come he suddenly has cash?" I looked at Gurb, but he avoided my gaze. Louis never had money and yet he was buying another round. Meanwhile, a Moby song was playing and nothing made sense. "If he has money for drinks, he can surely pay me back, right?"
Just a few hours ago, I was alone in Berlin. Now, ten hours later, I'm standing in some obscure techno club with my best friends. Loud rock music with drunken shouting. "Hey, Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?" I woke up that day with a mild hangover from the lonely yet people-filled night before. Perfect conditions for a 20-year-old dropout.
The Hard Rock Café was the most beautifully ugly place in Berlin. Gurb had driven for seven hours straight in his mother's car, but we didn't notice. An iconic black Mini Cooper. Your body leads your mind, the beat never stops, and you can conquer the world. Louis threw in another crazy dance move. We were happy.
"Do you want another drink, brother?" Gurb asked me, half shouting. An evening filled with rhetorical questions. He saw me dancing and already knew the answer.
Gurb always had money. Louis, on the other hand, never did. Louis was also the youngest of us three. He had just turned 18. I wouldn't call him a cunning fox. More like a jack-of-all-trades. Like the time he made a lot of money on a Wadden Island with a group of boys. They sold large blocks of hash.
"Crazy dude!" I shouted at him. He yelled something back.
"Do you remember back then?" Louis said.
"Back then? Back then? Yeah man, of course!" I had no idea what he meant. "Do you mean the party?"
"Do you mean the party, he says! This guy. When I look at you like this, it makes me happy. The exact same kid is here letting loose just like back in high school!"
We knew each other from secondary school. He joined when I was in the second grade. He was very intelligent. Too young, too much knowledge of the world. His mother is from Brazil. We often went to his mother's place to play on the Playstation Louis and I had bought together.
I lived everywhere at that time. In the crisis shelter where I stayed for a while, for example, I wasn't allowed to have a Playstation. So we set it up in an accessible place, near school. It was always fun with Louis. Going together to the Apple Store. Taking all kinds of photos with all the webcams, posting them on Hyves, and then leaving. Louis always knew how to cheer me up.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!" There was Gurb with five drinks in his hands. Gurb was wearing a blue checkered shirt. Two buttons undone. Hair slicked back. "You look good, brother!"
"You look fresh too! We all look fresh!" Gurb said enthusiastically. Louis was wearing a completely white outfit. We quickly bought this before going out. He also bleached his hair.
"You look like the Brazilian cousin of James Dean in these clothes," I said. Louis laughed. "Let me take a picture."
Suddenly, the DJ switched to some kind of techno. "Ah, here Berlin briefly takes off its mask." I was fine with it all. Louis was talking to a lady.
Voluptuous breasts, I thought to myself. He gave her one of his two drinks.
"He's with a girl and he's thinking with his dick," I said to Gurb. "Let him be, tonight Berlin is ours!"
The bass kept pounding. "I simply don't have the patience for the club," I said to Gurb. He looked surprised. Like a sweet dog, tilting his head. "I'm just waiting for tomorrow. Can't do my thing here. Don't have patience for the already known. I want adventure and I want it now!"
Gurb started laughing. "Patience is a virtue." Yes. Patience is all well and good, but I think it's a waste of my time. Gurb grabbed my shoulder.
"I think it's time for another beer."
Louis and I were walking through Leeuwarden a year ago when suddenly a red Ford Ka stopped in front of us. It was Gurb, casually driving around the city. He invited us into his car. We hopped in. Since that afternoon, the three of us were together. A few months later, Louis got a tattoo on his ribs in honor of our friendship. It was the name of our group chat. Braddar Force Indigo.
There were also days when Gurb would take me for a drive around Friesland. He reminded me how beautiful Friesland is. The world doesn't spin there. The newspapers I threw away in the Stiens forest in 2011 could still be lying in the same spot, so to speak.
Just before midnight, I found myself in line for the restroom. My eyes fell on a pair of striking shoes. Cigarette smoke invaded my nose for the fourth time. "Müssen Sie eine Zigarette haben?" a female voice spoke to me. I felt like Tom Hanks in the final scene of Angels & Demons, where the new pope first steps onto the balcony. The curtains opened. There I was, witnessing an important moment in history. I was just told how I was sent by God, but my ears didn't want to hear any of it. At least that's how I felt. My mouth was empty. I had no words left. That's when I knew for sure. Berlin might really be as crazy as literally everyone says.
Dark blond, silky hair. Was this real beauty then? She wouldn't look 40, but I think she was. A true woman. Beautiful in all her elegance. I always joked about being interested in older women, but tonight one stood in front of me. "I don't smoke," I said to her.
Someone tapped me. "Please, just go to the toilet!" He was right. I hadn't peed in a while either. My urine was cloudy. "Glomerulonephritis," I said to myself on the toilet. This is an unusual condition. It's an inflammation in the kidneys, I thought I remembered. They should never have given me access to Google.
The evening progressed, and Louis kept buying rounds. "But seriously now. How does Louis suddenly have all that money for drinks?" I asked Gurb. He was outside smoking with a group of Swiss girls. I had strategically positioned myself so that I could always leave the crime scene if necessary.
"You shouldn't ask me," said Gurb. He was laughing with the temporary girlfriend group of Louis. Gurb has a beard. A lot of chicks like that. I get it too.
As much as I enjoyed Louis and Gurb being here for me, something didn't sit right with me. It couldn't just be about the money. "What's up with him?" I heard one of the Swiss girls say to Gurb.
Those kinds of questions really tire me out. "Not much, with you?" I replied.
They all started laughing. "That's not what she meant, brother," said Gurb.
"I couldn't care less whether she meant it or not. Send that brace-face back to Switzerland. Don't drive me crazy, alright!"
Actually, I hadn't drunk that much that evening. "Two vodka Sprites, please!" It's rare for me to get just one drink. "I always get two drinks, then you have to wait shorter for the third one!" Maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I wanted to admit. Oh well, it was still the three of us against the world.
"Nice shoes, are those Prada?" I asked a random girl at the bar.
"No, these are fake. Why would I buy real ones for 600 dollars if I could just buy these for 20?"
"..."
I'm not very good at that. Talking. To women.
Louis and Gurb were in the smoking area now. It was less blue than the dance floor itself. My clothes already stank, so a visit to the smoking area couldn't hurt. "These people are so underground!" Gurb shouted. Louis was filming him with his phone. "These people..." There was a brief pause. As if Gurb forgot the only line he had. "...so underground!" All three of us burst into laughter. The alcohol flowed through our veins as if it came from the purest mountains. People seemed doubled and the room was full. We had been in the same club in Berlin for several hours.
"Leonardo! What are you hiding from the big boss?" I sometimes called Louis ‘DiCaprio.’ "You a rich guy, now?" I said, with an accent as if I were from the Bronx.
Louis started laughing. "Eh, you know nothing. Bullshit talk."
I had to laugh too. What was I even worried about? Friends are friends, with or without money. That shouldn't matter. Louis probably just worked for that money. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe he just had enough to buy rounds. But what if my gut feeling was right? That feeling was never wrong. Except for that one time at the Holland Casino in Groningen. Even the best of us have slip-ups. I was just getting worked up again. When it comes down to it, Louis is one of the sweetest guys I know. I had to let it go. After all, it's still Louis.
"I think I'm going to have sex soon, man," Louis said.
"With who?" I asked immediately.
"That one girl."
"Which one?"
"The one with the boobs."
"Oh, her. Just be careful."
"What kind of reaction is that?" Louis asked indignantly.
I'd only had four drinks, but I was acting like a mess. Louis was right. I didn't understand myself. Where was my head at? I'm here in Berlin, supposed to be having the time of my life, but here I am feeling lonely and sad again. Joost once again couldn't control his emotions.
"Sorry," I suddenly said to Louis. "Sorry for my behavior. Been acting dumb towards you all night. It's unnecessary." Sometimes I have that. Mood swings. "Know that crime is never the solution. We've talked about this so many times. Yes, it's tempting and sometimes easy money. I sometimes find it amusing too, but it's always hypothetical. Ask me for help. I can help you, even with illegal things. I'll always have your back." The dancing was kind of over.
The words I had just placed on Louis's plate came from my heart. My Frisian, irregular boys' heart.
Crying in the club. I had never seen myself like that. Crying, yes. In the club, no. I never understood the taboo around crying. Or emotions in general. I saw myself in the mirror. They weren't tears of joy. They weren't tears of sadness either. It was me letting everything go. All the emotions I had ever felt. The emotions I felt between my brother and sister and myself because they wanted to take on a parental role over me, but I was in puberty, so I pushed them away. The emotions I felt when my old neighbors were supposed to take care of my dog, but didn't tell me that he was bitten by one of their dogs. They didn't have money for the surgery, they later told me. They were ashamed of their lack of money. My dog died from this injury. Even the emotions that were all jumping at once during the retake for my swimming diploma A, I let go of.
No emotions. Just for a moment, not feeling anything. Is that too much to ask for?
"You still don’t smoke?"
It had to be the voice of the woman with the cigarettes. I looked over my shoulder through the mirror. It was her. The one with dark blond, silky hair.
"Not to be rude, but this is the men’s room," I said. She took a step closer and kissed me on my lips. It tasted like more. We started kissing. It had been a while since I had had female contact at this level. It probably didn't look good and it didn't feel good either. She started kissing my neck. Slowly, I noticed the pressure in the erectile tissues of my penis starting to increase. "I really don't have time for this!" I thought to myself. The woman with the cigarettes started to slowly sink down until she was on her knees. I didn't want this. Not now, not like this. She unraveled my penis from my Polo Ralph Lauren underwear. Her tongue was blue. It was probably from cheap shots of alcohol.
Was this real beauty then? Was this the beginning or the end of her story? And had I become the boy my parents hoped I would be? I thought about the fact that this was once someone's little daughter. Somewhere in the world, an old man might be wondering what his daughter is doing. Am I really putting pleasure above my own morals and values?
With my semi-erect circumcised penis still exposed, I lifted her up. After giving her a kiss on her forehead, I pulled up my pants and left the toilets.
It was the usual last hour in any club ever. I met Louis and Gurb at the bar. "Should we have another drink?" I asked Gurb. "I feel like having a cocktail. Something sweet. Lots of sugar. What about you?"
Gurb looked at the menu. "A cognac would go down well right now."
"A cognac? You're only nineteen!" Gurb and Louis laughed. "Two Tequila Sunrises please!" I called to the bartender. "Also, two beers! Thanks!" I also got a beer for Louis. At first, I didn't want to, but I didn't want to spoil the mood either. Besides, I didn't want to show too much that it bothered me so much.
We danced away the last minutes. The club closed, and we decided to walk with the group of Swiss girls. Apparently, they were staying nearby.
As I lagged behind the group, one of them tried to start a conversation with me. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly.
"I'm fine. Just had too much beer. Makes me sleepy." Not true at all, but I've heard people say that.
"You’re tired? The fun has only just began!" And as she said this, she pulled something out of her inner pocket. Her clenched fist, shielded by a half jacket. Who is this girl, anyway? I thought to myself. She opened her hand flat, and right in the center of her palm lay two small pills with a smiley face on them. At least, they looked like it.
"Oh, I don’t do drugs. Sorry."
"Me neither!" And she swallowed a pill. "Now it’s your turn... Or are you scared?"
Scared? Who did this crazy Swiss witch (with really beautiful eyes) think she was. With her "are you scared". I'll show her who's scared.
"Scared? I’m not scared." I picked up the remaining pill and swallowed it.
Everything went in slow motion. Was this who I had become? Was this the same boy from high school? And just before I could swallow, I spat out the pill. She was shocked. I picked up the pill again, dried it with my jacket, and put it back in her fist. "Maybe later!" I shouted, running back to the group, over my shoulder.
I have nothing to say to 9 out of 10 peers I come across. Of course, I can be social. I can also have fun with random people in random situations, but that night, it just tired me out. I also didn't understand what we were doing there. Those girls found me strange anyway. Suddenly, I was the fifth wheel.
"We know this place where they go until 7 in the morning!" The girl leader of the group spoke. I wanted to go home. "If you guys want, you can go. Don't worry about me," I said to Gurb and Louis. The boys had a brief discussion. We agreed to stay for just a little while longer for some drinks. I consented. I was thirsty. "I'll have a Fanta, Louis."
Gurb had reached the last cigarette in his pack. Louis and a girl from the group were nowhere to be found. It didn't even bother me. This guy just walks around with some cash in his pocket and all hell breaks loose. After a night full of stimuli, I understood Louis. Of course, I understood Louis. He's a young god. Handsome, smart guy. But that didn't make me any less angry. It was purely about trust for me. Something inside me said I should stop subconsciously expecting things from people too. It prevents disappointment.
"Hotel please!" I jokingly suggested to Gurb. "Should you call Louis or should I?" I added. Gurb immediately grabbed his Android smartphone and called Louis. He put the call on speaker.
"Are you ready?" Gurb asked.
"Yeah. Sort of."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't have sex."
"That's fine, right? Tomorrow's a new day!"
"I think I'm in love, man," Louis said.
"...," Gurb said, chuckling as he let out a sigh.
Once we arrived at the girls' hostel, it was already getting light. Louis was thankfully back. There were stains on his pants, around his knees. My focus was solely on arranging a taxi. Although the boys were still flirting, I was really done now. "How are we going to pay for this taxi?" I said a bit too loudly.
There was a silence. "Don't worry. I still have cash," Gurb said.
"Yeah, I knew you would," I replied.
My words clearly hit Louis. "What do you mean by that?" he said.
It was as if time stood still for a few seconds. "Exactly what I said. Better listen." Louis pulled out a small wad of green bills from his pocket. At least 400 euros. "I don't even want to see that money," I reacted. I walked away.
I'll just order a taxi myself.
"Why are you walking away now?" Gurb said.
"Twelve hours ago, I was alone too, and I had a lot more fun then."
"Do you really want to know how I got this money?" Louis said.
Yes, I did want to know. My whole evening revolved around that damn money.
He took a second of pause before he began speaking. "The answer lies in the Mini."
What on earth could be in Gurb's mother's car? Louis was trying to get into my head. "Taxi!"
Once in the taxi, the division was clear. Gurb was upfront, chatting animatedly with the driver. All adventures ever were recounted. Louis and I in the back. One of my best friends since I was thirteen. Funny how things turn out. It was quiet between us. I was in my head, rehearsing how I would bring up the money again. It didn't add up, and he knew it himself. "I don't care, you know," I said, hoping he'd break.
"What don't you care about?"
"About that money."
"What money? You're really a crazy woozy man." Louis burst out laughing again.
On the other hand, it was silent. Gurb had started talking about the driver's family. The driver didn't appreciate it. Gurb meant well. The driver smelled of alcohol. Or was it me? His nails were polished. Maybe his wife was a specialist. I bite my nails myself. Like now.
"In the Mini, oh yeah."
"Shut up. Illegal man."
"You'll never know."
"Stop playing. Just say it!"
Louis grabbed my head, pulled himself towards me, and brought his mouth to my right ear. "Why so serious?" he whispered. He didn't want to tell me.
"But always with this damn money, huh?" I almost shouted at Louis. I broke every silence within a radius of 10 kilometers.
"I'm trying my best, bro. It is what it is. I can't make it any different," he replied. It was clearly bothering him deeply. He ran his hands through his hair. "Sometimes people have to do things. And you know that better than anyone. Sometimes they have to do things they don't really want to or aren't supposed to do."
I knew this spiel all too well. Through all the drunken haziness, I suddenly saw a small glimmer of light. A tiny spark of sincerity. Louis was serious this time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to involve you in this. I'm sorry," sweat dripped from his forehead.
"You're serious, huh? Damn, man. What mess have you gotten yourself into now? Worse than Terschelling?" Worse than Terschelling would mean stolen goods. Maybe even violence.
"It's not what you think."
"The Adlon Hotel, right?" the driver chimed in. Always saved by the bell, that Louis.
Suddenly I hit my head against the seat in front of me. Of course, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. The last thing I saw was Gurb waking up in panic from his drunken stupor. One by one, I started losing my senses. It started with the feeling in my fingers. For a brief moment, everything wasn't quite black, and I could only see a vague pattern of colors repeating inside my eyelids. You could compare it to the brief moment after the commercial break before the movie starts in the cinema. The movie was about to begin.
I knew I wasn't dying. At least not yet. Not like this. Not after an overall mediocre night out in Berlin. I found comfort in the image I forced myself to see. It was all in my head. There I was, unconscious.
I saw myself in a third-person point of view. It wasn't like I was actually leaving my body. More like there was a webcam hanging in one of the upper corners of the taxi.
As a child, I used to dream a lot about death. Nights spent awake.
At some point, I developed a kind of compulsive behavior. I kept swaying my torso from left to right with my hands under my head. It became almost like a workout before bedtime. Every night.
I called it dream shuffling. Just like I had learned to shuffle puzzle pieces or playing cards. Making things a little exciting for yourself. But what I almost never told anyone was that I was scared. I was afraid of burglars, who were very agile and muscular.
Especially afraid that they would murder me. I really wanted to know what death was like. It scared me.
These fear visions originated during an all-inclusive vacation in Turkey. I was 6 years old and already in bed. There was a big old TV in our hotel room, so I could secretly watch TV from bed. Every evening, my parents sat on the balcony. Here they discussed their day while enjoying a glass of alcohol. There was a Japanese animated series on TV. In the few seconds that I watched, I saw a scary creature climbing a sort of apartment complex via the balconies. The creature had hundreds of teeth and blond hair. It quickly entered to decapitate the people, then drained them and, as a final insult, robbed them. Dozens of carcasses of dead people were scattered around the apartment complex. The complex on TV resembled the resort where we were in reality, and the TV world merged with my surroundings. I became part of it. I saw people watching. No matter how loudly I screamed for help, they didn't react. The sun became very bright, and the people turned into nothing more than shadows. As the intensity of the sun increased, something became clear to me. These were not people. They had a sort of orange skin. Where I had previously thought it was their nose and mouth, it turned out that these shadowy figures did not have such physical features. They simply had three holes in their heads. The police tried to do something, but in vain. Since then, we always kept the light on in the hallway outside my bedroom. By rocking back and forth, from left to right, I could glance fleetingly at the beam of light under the door. That bit of light, escaping from the hallway into my room, gave me an advantage. It allowed me to stay one step ahead of the burglars. Pretty smart, right?
"From Jamaica to the world!
It’s just love. Why must the children play in the street?"
It was Bob Sinclar with "Love Generation" speaking to us through the taxi's speakers. We were stationary. I was conscious again, but I didn't feel alive at all. "How long was I out?" I asked Louis.
I could tell by his expression that he was relieved. Relieved that I was back. "One minute," he almost apologized. Louis gave me a pat on the shoulder. Gurb, on the other hand, was sleeping. He slept like a baby cub.
I put my right index finger on my forehead. It felt wet, but it wasn't blood. Blood feels different. Meanwhile, I kept hearing whistling.
"Be the love generation! Oh yeah!" It was still that same song by Bob Sinclar.
The earlier scent of alcohol had now been replaced by the smell of incense. It smelled like the same incense I had in my room. Sold to me as Tibetan 39 incense. I had bought it at a coffee shop in Rotterdam. I pulled up my notes on my phone. "Who lights incense in a CAR????" I let Louis read from my screen. He took the phone from my hands and started typing as well.
"Look at Gurb >>>" Gurb was so deeply asleep that his head drooped. His seatbelt held his torso in place, but his head ended up on the driver's shoulder. The man didn't mind. He didn't move. I made eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and soon I found him. He winked at me.
We arrived at the hotel. Gurb awakened from his alcoholic hibernation. "Who's going to pay for the taxi?" I asked. Clearly rhetorical. I already knew I would take this one for the team, as usual. I refused to use Louis's money. It was uncomfortably quiet. "By card please," I said.
"I'll always protect you, Louis. You really need to know that. I care about you like my own little brother. I'll always try to help you. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that?" Louis didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Yes, I can. I'll show you. It's really in the Mini." Meanwhile, the taxi driver's card machine indicated that I had insufficient funds. That couldn't be right. Maybe I had withdrawn too much that evening.
"I have cash in the hotel room," Gurb said to me. Gurb informed the driver in broken English that he would go get his cash. The driver agreed. Money is money, whether it comes now or later. As long as it feels good in your hands.
Louis and I got out of the taxi. "You're not going to light a cigarette now, are you?" Louis wanted to smoke. "Especially for stress. That's really for people who can't handle pain. You need to feel pain. Pain needs to brand you for the rest of your life so you finally learn not to do such stupid things." It fell silent again. My blood boiled. All pots were on the stove. I felt like Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen. "Show me then. Do it."
Louis remained silent and walked around the corner of the hotel. Towards the parking lot. I followed him. "You're not going to find much," said Louis.
"Why not? Are you a magician?"
"No. Just. Not much."
"So there's suddenly magically nothing in Gurb's car?"
"Stop. Get out. Get out of my head!" Louis shouted. Louis had had enough. He was done with the parade. Normally we dealt with hypothetical stories. Only this time it wasn't a joke. I was sure now. Louis had dropped his mask. The revolution had begun. The government had fallen and the dikes had broken. The people were in charge. "You shouldn't freak out like this. Always wanting more. Sweet boy, think about yourself."
After Gurb gave the money to the driver, he came to us. He had a smile on his face, lit a cigarette, and exclaimed, "Brothers!" Once with us, he hugged me. He started laughing. "Maybe I haven't been entirely honest either." Sometimes Gurb seemed like a 38-year-old man. In a positive way. He exuded confidence in a way I didn't often see. Affectionate, with a hint of authority.
We stood in the middle of a large parking lot. "Look. We've reached a point where I might not even care anymore. You guys are teasing me." It did matter to me. Maybe more than ever. I was supposed to be two steps ahead of them, but I couldn't figure it out. "I give up."
The delightful silence returned. Louis and Gurb looked at each other. "You guys win. Apparently, I'm not to be trusted as a friend."
From Louis's expression, I could tell he disagreed with this. "Not true. Come to the car."
We arrived at the car. Louis unlocked it and searched for the trunk button. Gurb had started his third cigarette. "It's a corpse, isn't it? Say it now. I can still help you. I can still help us. I can book a ticket for you. We can get you out of here," I said to Louis.
"Just wait. Nutcase."
"Why won't you accept my help?"
Louis started laughing nervously. Or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps a sly laugh too. Had Louis killed someone? "It's not a corpse. That can't be. You wouldn't be stupid enough to use their ID. You're smarter than that. So it must be something stolen. Haven't you found that button yet?"
Suddenly, we heard a click. Louis had found the button. Somewhere, I didn't want to know. Shouldn't I just trust Louis? Wasn't that the whole point of friendship?
Finally, the moment had arrived. I placed my right hand in the slot of the rear hatch. Something in me doubted. Still. I still doubted. Louis looked dead serious. "You wanted to know, didn't you? Then you also have to be man enough to accept it." Louis was clearly not joking. Or was he acting again? "Pussy," Louis said. I looked away. "You're afraid of what's inside, huh? You're afraid of the real Louis." He began to laugh manically. "Open that thing, man. Nutcase!"
I started laughing too. Why did I make such a big deal out of it? Sweat broke out from every pore in my body. It was even a bit damp in the no man's land between my scrotum and my anus. A tropical climate. It had been quite an adventure the whole evening. I took my hand off the rear hatch and first gave Louis a hug. Not some half-hearted birthday wish. No, a real hug.
"It's okay, buddy," Louis said to me. I had no idea what he meant by that. It fit the moment though.
It was really time now. I opened the rear hatch.
"Where is it?"
"In front of you," said Louis.
"In some secret compartment?"
There was nothing in the trunk. Absolutely nothing. An empty trunk. For an empty evening, in an empty Berlin, with an empty group of guys. I didn't get it.
"You won, man," I whispered. "You finally fucking done did it."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Empty? There was still nothing in the car. Louis just stood there. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I had felt every emotion this evening. Seen every color and smelled every scent. I was done. My body was ready. No longer needed. My mission was complete.
"But why did you do this?" I asked Louis, laughing.
He scratched his chin. It felt like the end of a bad movie.
"I sold our Playstation. Wanted to tell you only after I had sorted everything out again. I terminated my lease. Had some debts, and I also wanted to have some money for once. Once not empty-handed in the club. Once not dependent on my best friends. This is not who I am... I know how much that Playstation meant to you. It was ours together. I should have just told you."
"… and how does Gurb actually make his money?"

My question is: is this how client-led therapy should look like? How is this effective?
Long story short, it took me 7 years of searching to finally find a therapist who took my insurance, had availability, claimed they were knowledgeable about my issues, and was willing to take me. I've been going to her for 4-5 months now and I don't feel like I'm getting any therapy.
Basically, the entire time, I'm talking. She doesn't really say anything other than the occasional reassurance like "that sounds difficult" or "we feel bad when things like that happen, right?" (she likes to speak in plural, "we").
I told her several times that this is not working. I need someone to guide me. Help me see maybe loops I getting into or patterns I may not see. Or ask me questions to either go deeper or see things from a different perspective. Give me ideas or try therapeutic strategies. Or seriously, anything. But not listen to 45 mins of me venting and occasionally throwing in 2-4 affirming bullshit. Or we small talk about her cats...
She told me that she practices client-led and client-centered therapy. She also told me that in the past 15 years EVERY therapist has been training this way and practices this style. She said that basically it is MY job to lead therapy where I want it to go, decide how I want to heal/change, and she is merely there to support.
Like wtf. It sounds like coaching except a heck a lot less effective. (I studied health coaching too where we learned that we are guides help to find the clients what/how they want to change w/ the right questions. My T doesn't even have questions, let alone the right ones.)
I went to a therapist because I can't figure it out on my own! I'm sure this is helpful for some people, they can finally share their deepest, darkest secrets. That's not me. I'm also very self-aware, analytical, and introspective. I have a background in psychology and working as a researcher in the trauma/abuse field. So I know a lot, but i just can't help myself. (if that matters, I have cptsd and anxiety) (also, if that matters, when i started seeing her, she had trauma on her site among her specialties, since then she removed it)
I'm starting to feel like I'm the one doing something wrong that I don't find this useful and can't improve with this approach. What am I doing wrong?
Is this how client-led, client-centered therapy looks like? How is this helpful? What can I do better if it is my job to lead my therapy and the therapist is only there to nod and affirm me 2-3x a session?
I'm hesitant to leave her because I've been searching for 7 yrs now. I started looking for a new one again but all I get is "I'm full, don't have a waitlist" and/or "I don't take your insurance" from everyone in my area, including statewide/online.

Sorry if this sounds selfish but this is really only a one time thing for a friend. I need someone to use there undetectable AI account to paraphrase this please.
IntroductionThe rise of fast food chains in the United States from 2000 to 2010 had an impact on both the culture and economy. This period saw an increase in obesity rates among Americans, which coincided with the growth of these eateries. In this essay we delve into the connection between the expansion of fast food franchises and the obesity epidemic examining factors that influence health. Through an analysis of data, health studies and relevant literature our goal is to provide an understanding of how consuming food has played a role in fueling obesity during this particular decade, in America.The Growth of Fast Food Chains
Between 2000 and 2010 there was a rise in the fast food industry. Popular chains such as McDonalds, Burger King and Subway expanded their reach by opening stores to meet the demand for budget friendly meals. Data from the U.S. Census Bureau shows that the number of fast food eateries increased by around 20% during this timeframe (U.S. Census Bureau, 2011). This expansion made fast food more convenient for a range of people, including kids and teenagers.
Obesity Trends in the U.S. (2000 2010)
The prevalence of obesity in America has been on a trajectory during the early years of the 21st century. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) the rate of obesity among adults rose from 30.5% in 2000 to 35.7% in 2010 (CDC, 2011). Similarly among children and teens aged between 2 and 19 years old obesity rates increased from 13.9% to 16.9% over that period. This continuous increase signals a concerning public health issue with impacts on illness rates, mortality rates and healthcare expenses.
The Impact of Fast Food, on Eating Habits
food is commonly known for its levels of calories, excessive saturated fats, sugars and sodium with little nutritional value. These aspects of food are closely associated with weight gain and obesity. Studies show that regular consumption of food is linked to consuming calories and maintaining poor eating habits (Bowman & Vineyard 2004). Research conducted by Pereira et al. (2005) revealed that individuals who ate food than twice a week were more likely to gain weight and develop insulin resistance compared to those who consumed it less frequently.
Influence of Socioeconomic Factors
The easy availability and affordability of food make it an attractive option for people with incomes. Fast food establishments are often concentrated in low income areas where residents have limited access to dining choices (Powell et al. 2007). This situation, referred to as "food deserts " , worsens the issue of obesity because disadvantaged groups tend to rely on food as their main source of nutrition.
Impact of Advertising and Promotion
The aggressive advertising tactics used by fast food companies also have a significant influence on eating behaviors particularly among young individuals, like children and teenagers.
Many businesses invest sums of money each year in marketing showcasing their products across platforms, like TV, the web and social networks. Kids are especially influenced by these strategies that highlight the appeal and ease of food reinforcing harmful dietary patterns early on.
The impact of obesity, on health is significant and variedObesity is a factor in chronic illnesses like type 2 diabetes, heart disease, stroke and certain cancers (Flegal et al., 2012). The rise in obesity rates has led to an increase in health issues putting a strain on the healthcare system. The financial implications of obesity are also noteworthy with studies indicating that medical costs linked to obesity made up around 10% of healthcare expenses in the United States during that time (Cawley & Meyerhoefer 2012).
Policies and public health effortsIn response to the escalating obesity crisis, different policies and public health efforts have been put into action at state and local levels. These initiatives aim to encourage eating habits through measures like food labeling requirements, restrictions on advertising foods to children and campaigns raising awareness about the risks of obesity (Koplan et al., 2007). Schools have been a point for intervention well, with endeavors to enhance the nutritional value of school meals and boost physical activity among students.ExamplesVarious real life examples and stories showcase the effectiveness of taking action to address the issue of obesity. For example, New York City put in place a set of strategies to combat obesity, such as displaying calorie information on menus and prohibiting trans fats in restaurant dishes. These initiatives led to improvements in people's eating habits and a slight decrease in obesity levels, within the community (Dumanovsky et al. 2011).ChallengesThe obesity epidemic still poses challenges despite the efforts to address it. Unhealthy eating habits deeply ingrained in society, the presence of the fast food industry and disparities in status all add layers of complexity to this issue. Moving forward it is crucial to focus on creating an environment that encourages choices for vulnerable communities. This entails advocating for policies that restrict the marketing of foods to children, enhancing access to options in low income areas and urging food companies to improve the health profile of their products.
Psychological marketingWhen it comes to food marketing companies go beyond advertising tactics by leveraging deep rooted psychological triggers that influence consumer behavior. Bright colors, catchy tunes and recognizable mascots are commonly used in food ads to build a memorable brand image. This technique is particularly effective with audiences like children and teenagers who're more susceptible and likely to develop lasting brand loyalties. Research indicates that exposure to these advertisements can lead children to prefer calorie, nutrient foods ultimately impacting their dietary decisions and contributing to weight gain (Boyland & Halford 2013).The impact of portion sizes
One overlooked but significant factor contributing to the obesity crisis is the increasing sizes of portions served by food chains. Over time portion sizes have substantially grown, with meals exceeding the recommended calorie intake for a single meal. Young and Nestles (2002) study reveals that fast food item portions have expanded over the years with some items now more than double their size. This phenomenon of "portion distortion" results in calorie consumption as individuals tend to eat when faced with larger servings often underestimating the actual caloric content.
Changes in lifestyle and time constraints
The contemporary way of life characterized by schedules and time limitations has also played a role in the heightened dependence on fast food. With an increase in dual income households and longer work hours many people find themselves lacking the time to cook meals. Fast food emerges as a solution offering cost effective options that align with busy routines. Nonetheless this convenience comes at a price as frequent consumption of food is linked to dietary patterns and increased calorie intake contributing to the surge in obesity rates (Smith, Ng & Popkin 2013).Another significant measure involves restricting the promotion of foods to children. By reducing kids exposure to food ads policymakers aim to lessen the impact of marketing on their eating habits. Some cities have also imposed taxes on beverages and unhealthy foods in an effort to discourage consumption through penalties. While the effectiveness of these strategies may vary they mark progress in combating the obesity crisis.
Approaches Rooted in Communities
Community based strategies for addressing obesity highlight the importance of initiatives and grassroots movements. Programs that concentrate on enhancing access to foods encouraging activity and educating community members about healthy eating have shown positive outcomes. For example community gardens and farmers markets can offer produce to residents living in areas with access to healthy food options promoting better dietary choices. Schools and community centers can also play a role by providing nutrition education and physical activity programs.
The Impact of Technology
Technology has increasingly become an asset in the battle against obesity. Mobile applications and wearable gadgets enable individuals to monitor their calorie intake and exercise levels offering feedback and motivating lifestyle choices.
Furthermore social networking sites can play a role, in advocating for public health initiatives and sharing details on diet and wellness. Although technology isn't a solution to the issue of obesity it provides avenues to involve people and groups in embracing healthier habits (Stephens & Allen 2013).
Future Directions and Recommendations
The approach to tackling obesity needs to be multi-faceted and should involve collaboration between government departments, health workers, local communities, as well as the food industry. In future, there is need for more efforts in creating an atmosphere that supports healthier selections particularly among the disadvantaged groups. This means that one should continue to campaign for policies aimed at reducing children’s exposure to unhealthy food advertisements, improving availability of healthy foods in deprived neighborhoods and encouraging manufacturers in the food sector to change their products into a healthier version.
Further still public health campaigns will try and focus on having balanced diets regularly done exercises. Schools and offices can succeed by developing well-structured meals alongside opportunities for exercising. More research is also needed to understand why some people are poor eaters or overweight than others.
Policy Proposals
To further combat the menace of overweight, policy makers should think about enacting a variety of evidence-based strategies. Some of them could be: Sugar-Sweetened Beverage Taxes: Taxes on sugary drinks can decrease consumption and raise funds for public health projects. Zoning Regulations: By controlling the number of fast food restaurants in given areas, intake will subside and encourage establishment of grocery stores among other healthier alternatives.Menu Labeling Laws: This makes sure that restaurants indicate calorie counts as well as other nutritional information to assist customers in making informed choices. School Nutrition Standards: Schools meals and snacks in the course of learning ought to meet recommended nutrition levels so that students are eating healthy. Addressing Behavioral FactorsBehavioral interventions also play a significant role in dealing with obesity. Cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and other psychological approaches aid individuals to develop better eating habits and deal with triggers involved in overeating. Programs addressing weight control which incorporate behavior change counseling together with diet and exercise components show promise towards helping individuals achieve successful long term weight loss.Long-Term Commitment and Sustainable Change
Society must collectively make a commitment that will last over a long period to reduce obesity rates. The approach should be ongoing and flexible enough to accommodate changing circumstances and new information. For this change to be lasting, there must be continuous investment in public health infrastructure, research, and education. Therefore, significant strides can be achieved in reducing obesity rates by nurturing a culture that appreciates wellness.
Cultural Shifts and Public Perception
In addressing the obesity epidemic another critical factor is shifting public opinion as well as cultural norms with regards to food and health. The acceptance of fast food and oversize portions as normative has been one of the major drivers towards unhealthy eating habits over the past few decades. This would involve public health campaigns focused on what constitutes healthy balanced meals and promoting on good home cooked fresh meal benefits instead. To change public perception cooking classes nutrition workshops media campaign advertising preparation advantages of healthy meals at home for instance.
Strengthening Health Care Interventions
Routine screenings, counseling and support for weight management by health care providers are crucial in handling obesity. Obesity prevention and treatment should be integrated into primary care to ensure consistency and comprehensiveness in people’s health. Personalized advice can be availed by the healthcare practitioners and also set realistic targets as well as referring patients to dietitians or structured weight loss programs.
Advancing Research and Use of Proven Practices
To better understand the intricate contributors to obesity and curate effective interventions, it is important to sustain research. Longitudinal studies that follow diet patterns, activity levels, and disease outcomes offer useful information on how to prevent or reduce obesity. By exploring behavioral, environmental and genetic factors that affect obesity, this will enable us to make interventions that are specific for different populations and situations as well.
Conclusion
The period between 2000 and 2010 registered a sharp increase of obesity rates that is closely linked to the spread of fast food outlets across America. This public health menace can only be fought with multidimensional approaches that will change public attitude, improve education, enhance corporate accountability and support inclusive research plus health care interventions. By creating an environment where good health is appreciated through provision of necessary resources and support, we can achieve significant milestones in curbing cases of obesity within our population as well as overall improvement in their welfare.
Citations:
Boyland, E.J. & Halford, J.C.G., 2013. Television advertising and branding. Effects on eating behavior and food preferences in children. **Appetite**, 62, pp.236-241.
Brownell, K.D. & Frieden, T.R., 2009. Ounces of prevention—the public policy case for taxes on sugared beverages. **New England Journal of Medicine**, 360(18), pp.1805-1808.
Drewnowski, A. & Specter, S.E., 2004. Poverty and obesity: the role of energy density and energy costs. **American Journal of Clinical Nutrition**, 79(1), pp.6-16.
Krieger, J.W., Chan, N.L., Saelens, B.E., Ta, M.L., Solet, D. & Fleming, D.W., 2013. Menu labeling regulations and calories purchased at chain restaurants. **American Journal of Preventive Medicine**, 44(6), pp.595-604.
Ogden, C.L., Carroll, M.D., Kit, B.K. & Flegal, K.M., 2014. Prevalence of childhood and adult obesity in the United States, 2011-2012. **JAMA**, 311(8), pp.806-814.
Smith, L.P., Ng, S.W. & Popkin, B.M., 2013. Trends in US home food preparation and consumption: analysis of national nutrition surveys and time use studies from 1965-1966 to 2007-2008. **Nutrition Journal**, 12(1), p.45.
Stephens, J. & Allen, J., 2013. Mobile phone interventions to increase physical activity and reduce weight: a systematic review. **Journal of Cardiovascular Nursing**, 28(4), pp.320-329.
Story, M., Kaphingst, K.M., Robinson-O'Brien, R. & Glanz, K., 2008. Creating healthy food and eating environments: policy and environmental approaches. **Annual Review of Public Health**, 29, pp.253-272.
Walker, R.E., Keane, C.R. & Burke, J.G., 2010. Disparities and access to healthy food in the United States: A review of food deserts literature. **Health & Place**, 16(5), pp.876-884.
Young, L.R. & Nestle, M., 2002. The contribution of expanding portion sizes to the US obesity epidemic. **American Journal of Public Health**, 92(2), pp.246-249.
Fulkerson, J.A., Story, M., Neumark-Sztainer, D. & Rydell, S., 2008. Family meals: Perceptions of benefits and challenges among parents of 8-to 10-year-old children. **Journal of the American Dietetic Association**, 108(4), pp.706-709.
Huang, T.T.K., Drewnowski, A., Kumanyika, S.K. & Glass, T.A., 2009. A systems-oriented multilevel framework for addressing obesity in the 21st century. **Preventing Chronic Disease**, 6(3), A82.
Kumanyika, S.K., 2008. Environmental influences on childhood obesity: Ethnic and cultural influences in context. **Physician and Sportsmedicine**, 36(1), pp.45-51.
Larson, N.I., Story, M.T. & Nelson, M.C., 2009. Neighborhood environments: Disparities in access to healthy foods in the US. **American Journal of Preventive Medicine**, 36(1), pp.74-81.
Ludwig, D.S. & Pollack, H.A., 2009. Obesity and the economy: from crisis to opportunity. **JAMA**, 301(5), pp.533-535.
Powell, L.M., Chaloupka, F.J. & Bao, Y., 2007. The availability of fast-food and full-service restaurants in the United States: associations with neighborhood characteristics. **American Journal of Preventive Medicine**, 33(4), pp.S240-S245.
Sallis, J.F., Floyd, M.F., Rodríguez, D.A. & Saelens, B.E., 2012. Role of built environments in physical activity, obesity, and cardiovascular disease. **Circulation**, 125(5), pp.729-737.

So, Identity Crisis. More like Type Crisis, but whatever!
Please help me decide whether I am ENFP, ESTP or ESFP... I don't think I am ENTP (I think)

1. My hobbies serve me some purpose in life. I would not have, say, crocheting for a hobby because personally, I believe it is useless. I like drawing and graphic designing among many things. And I can use them in real life. Same with Keyboard.
2. I can ping pong between topics during discussions and can appear random to everyone else, but somehow going from hygroscopic salts to mic to pluto to plastic to salts again makes perfect sense to me.
3. I enjoy observing people and motivations that drive them to do certain things. Like, people are SO INTERESTING! Tell me your fears, your vices, your strengths. TELL ME EVERYTHING.
4. I am the therapist friend which is a recent development. I used to be apathetic about emotions and usually hated any emotional display, but I am great at comforting others (as they have said) and know how to respond to every problem appropriately, according to the individual
5. I would be the first person to observe and point out if you have changed your hairstyle, slippers, earrings or glasses. Or even nail colour.
6. When dealing with feelings or crushes, if they start to have a negative effect on my performance (academics) or distract me too much, it is VERY easy for me to box up my feelings and deal with them like I am the observer and weigh the pros and cons of continuing with my mushy feelings. (sounds heartless when i put it that way) I would be the person who doesn't get sad that she has been rejected. I will be relieved that I wouldn't have to ping pong between wondering 'he likes me, he likes me not'
7. I am empathetic (i think? or is it sympathetic?) and I am a pure person (friends told me for reference/credibility lol). not uncomfortable with dealing with my emotions as well
8. I am fiercely independent. This has been detrimental for me (thankfully minor) but I will do things my way if I think I can (even if I over estimate myself) even if the person makes some good points... like if I fail, I want to be accountable for my failure
9. I have cartoon-ish and often exaggerated expressions. And in any social setting, i am seldom the wall flower. I would be nearing the thick of the crowd, and possibly narrating some incident of my own.
10. I can articulate my thoughts and emotions really well. I pride myself in my ability to do so, I'll give you metaphors, similes and all sort of literary devices to explain my points and don't fumble my way through sentences
11. I love exercising and camping and all things outdoors. i also love to think about things and daydream while i walk. I would be doing planks and simultaneously, thinking about my crush and some fantasy lol
12. i tend to worry about my future (is it my GAD speaking? idk) but mostly like worrying about the future worries me even more? like, i am scared about ending up as a failure mostly. like... what if the fact that i flunked a huge entrance exam means i'll flunk everything in life? Not 10 year roadmap, thank you.
13. I have a wide range of interests. Reading, writing, drawing, debating, oration... basically anything to express my ideas. But I don't really have the SO MANY INCOMPLETE projects. Like I have a lot going on, but a fair amount of them are complete...
14. I am not super sensitive... IDK if it is because of my upbringing, but I don't take things personally and get offended. I have a relatively thick skin. If I don't care about you, you could talk shit and I wouldn't give you the time of my day. If I care about you, I'll take it as a constructive criticism and use that to make myself a better person. You bet I have asked my friends and even teachers at least once in their life what I can do to be better at that task or as a person etc etc
15. I LOVE debating, particularly about ideas I am against because I want to see it the way you do if we disagree. I am open to changing my opinions and views about ideas, if you provide me convincing arguments. And I can typically see all the perspectives in an argument which can helps me convince someone else to think from another perspective
16. Not prone to jealousy. If my friend does better than me, even if i worked harder, i'll be genuinely happy for them and cheer them on
17. I need concrete examples to understand stuff. Like, say for waves in physics, I needed the teacher to demonstrate me beats and beat frequency in real time in order for me to understand. Like, I need a physical manifestation of whatever the concept or even FORMULA is... I find Maths really interesting because I love connecting ideas and stuff together and Maths is just that! But I don't think the current school curriculum is conducive for me to explore it.
18. I love learning about new things! Who knows, maybe something I read about makeup could be applied while making food?
19. I also don't associate with people who have like, 0 ambition in life. This sounds quite mean, but till date I have never befriended a person who is content with just winging stuff without putting any effort.
20. A mundane life kind of scares me...? I don't want to live monotonously for the rest of my life. I want some spice, some drama, some excitement. But I'll take an IT job so that I have the financial stability for my passion.
21. I get along with 99% of the student population. That 1%? you are probably jerks or bullies
22. Also, not really a point, but at what point of judgey feelings do you become judgemental?
23. Scarily accurate gut feelings about people (where I subconsciously notice ticks that stick out to me)
24. FOMO! If everyone is there for a particular event, I have to be there! What if something interesting happens and I miss it?

Thank you and have a great day!

i feel so sad for many newer and younger music groups nowadays bc it seems they have to do so much to get by or to get noticed and someone else more popular will always be in competition bc so much music is digitalised media thats been thrown at everyone so its less about music and more about who can outdo who. who can be more expensive than who. who can have more wealth than who. etc. its like they cant have one flaw out of place or they cant drop their characters bc society will be watching their every move. they wont ever know what it was like away from the internet and a lot of older kpop idols seem to envy the way these newer kpop groups can gain more success in shorts amount of times. I do still think its possible outside of the internet but it would require more effort on the groups parts yet somehow I think I would still find out about them someway or other.
it isnt like its impossible for them to still be successful without the use of social media but they too would have to adapt if our devices were ever taken away from us when you think how much of music has been built around tiktok. Many big named groups from olden times are still around making music today
So my question is is tiktok really the only way to genuinely find new music groups? I would have loved to have done musicy if I had any shred of talent but I refuse to subject myself to the modern day scrutiny that tiktok seems to hold against its younger groups if they so much as step a toe out of line or drop their character
if im being honest youtube is the only way most people found what music they liked but I wonder many times what would happen if we really didnt have all that we had today would the groups of today still be known? in that sense I also miss picking up cds bc most cars are either too expensive and filled with digital features I do not need nor want and lack of cd players makes albums pointless in todays world
I went to tesco not that long ago as we rarely shop there but I couldnt bare how bare the empty physical media shelf was, more video games than dvds or cds. I tried to find this cd of blues and rythem tracks but could not I presume it had been removed bc they didnt sell out. the last dvd I probably will ever buy was the elvis one.
But the thunderstorm that cut our power out got me thinking that if we didnt have modern tech id have to find something to entertain myself by then i remember we used to have portable dvd players rhat didnt need electricity to be plugged in. My only non electric device is my vintage sewing machine that only cost me less than £80 it does all i need it to if i wanted to make a piece of clothing or garment yet most sewing patterns are digital nowadays but i do find some good deals in charity shops for vintage patterns again I bitterly regret not doing something physical with my hands like sewing when I was a kid. schools should push for more physical activities or make kids put their phones down for an hour and do some colouring
now if we could get rid of bills and taxes we could somewhat still live simpler and happier adult lives but i think social media has done its damage already and its too late to go back to simpler times, its too complex tto get decent work and its too longwinded to go through the education system and i have to have a lot of money to get something decent as an adult out of society
even when you look at all the latest gadgets its all plastic or poorly designed to break so easily in time or just by an accident and so much looks so similar like every phone has no character to it and honestly im just using my tablet these days i dont care for phones anymore
no one really bothered to text me and since lockdown i barely have any social life of my own outside close relatives so i do not need a phone hence why i think my life will be rather short there isnt much id particularly care about as i cannot go back in time and explore what older generations got to experience
whilst society does exclaim that life isnt over after xyz age or the world is our oyster or life is too short so do the most you can and or its never too late
i do think it does become too little too late for a lot of us we are either too old or not young enough for something or other and we are in a society where a lot is placed on how every other person and their granny is now a certified internet star who get to have that "viral" moment probably because they did well early on but that wasnt the case for us all
people often tell me on here to stop complaining so much but how can i not? so much of digital media is about getting our reactions over and over again its mentally draining to have to keep acting like its so normal of society, peopoe dont even look where theyre walking these days bc devices surprise surprise take up most of their eye sight
if only a few of us didnt use devices but everyone else around us was how are we meant to not feel fomo? how are we meant to feel less pressured to fit in online when the rest of society is online?
i think i was really born in the wrong generation and thats why i keep having existential crisis bc there isnt much for people my age to realistically do if we fail once thats it we dont ever get a redo so we have to make do with whatever situations we were given at a younger age and we are then forced to adapt to it over and over without any real knowledge
people just be using these platforms to holler mean unhelpful shit at other users so what good is that meant to do? if no one is accountable for the way society is then im ready to check out of it. im done

Werthin crouched low on the evening watch crag, the setting sun turns the sky a burning gold. The cold fall wind whipped his light gray fur and carried a strange, pungent scent. He lifted his stance to get his nose more into the wind. It wasn't the familiar tang of industry from the beavers nor the energizing hum of golden chi. This smell was raw and primal – the unmistakable odor of. “Death.”
The rest of the pack started to smell it too, Werthin could see a few thousand heads turn and sniff the air, wisps of condensation visible in the sunset. The pack had decided a unified action was taken, knowing what that meant he flexed his exposed chest, his abs rippling his fur, as he leaned up onto two feet and let out a howl. Every wolf lifted their head and joined into the harmony of their voices. The one that carried the loudest was the wolves current leader, Wutzel.
The howling died down when a lone speedor was spotted far on the horizon, a small dust cloud following it. Werthin climbed down and dashed through the maze of tents and other impermanent residencies to a wooden watchtower where his fiance Worina was crouched low, a knocked arrow tracing the rider as the zig-zagged their way towards the camp, tendrils of steam rising from her steady breath.
“Who is it?” Werthin whispered.
Without breaking her concentration, she spat. “Lion, although I have no idea which one is stupid enough or suicidal enough to approach our tribe completely alone.” Even crouching , he was a few centimeters taller than Werthin, her maple fur broken up by much lighter pale vitiligo patterns. Her arms were shaking from the strain of keeping her bow knocked and taught.
Other wolves had taken notice of the speedor and had started to get into defensive positions. As the speedor did a wide loop around the camp, Wutzel ordered the wolves to stand ready but relax. Werthin jumped down and stood next to Wutzel. He had shifted the holster for his double-sided sword to the quick-draw position, although he felt exposed without his armor on.
The rider pulled a hard stop just inside the entrance of the camp. They were a young lion with a dapper yellow and red fur pattern. They looked and smelled 20 at the oldest. Their heavy blue plate armor and crown marked them as royal. He held himself like a prince, even when staring down the entire wolf tribe. If it was not for an ugly sneer with a nose upturned in disgust, he may have even been considered handsome.
Wutzle barked an order, and five wolves lowered their spear and barred their teeth at the lion. The lion put up their paw in response, trying to show he meant no harm, but his sneer was not at all reassuring. He took in a deep breath and glared at every single wolf, seeming to calculate his odds if a fight broke out. “Who is your leader, if you are even civilized enough to have one?” He muttered coldly.
Multiple wolves lurched forward, hackles raised and fangs showing, but Wutzel snarled a warning, and they backed up but kept the aggressive mirthless smile. Wutzel himself did not look amused at the insult, but he stepped forward. “I guess you can say I am. Which means I am the one that decides if you live or die for trespassing.” Wutzel stood as tall as he could, but he still had to look up to make eye contact.
“Good. I am Prince Leyan of the lions… Why did you kill my dad?” The prince gave a look of pure anger and hatred.
Wutzel’s muzzle started to quiver in anger, his eyes burning red. The rest of the wolves looked like they were just waiting for the signal to kill this lion. “How dare you come into our home accusing us of murder with no evidence! How absolutely suicidal are you? I should have you killed for such an insult!”
The threat didn’t seem to phase Leyan at all. Two strides were taken to get right in the face of Wutzel. The height difference between them was now much more apparent, with the lion towering half a meter above the wolf's leader. “No evidence!? I have all the evidence in the world! It was no secret that you hated him and would do everything you could to rule Chima! So tell me: why did you kill him?”
Wutzel’s ears dropped back, and his pupils dilated. Spit flew from his mouth as he seethed. He kept opening his mouth to speak, but he seemed incapable of finding words strong enough to express the hatred he felt. When he spoke, all that came out was a cold and barely audible. “Kill him.”
Werthin drew his dual-bladed staff and stepped forwards, the humming of the energized edges rung out. Other wolves, some with spears and others with guns, also stepped forward. The prince drew his greatsword as his eyes narrowed into slits. He dropped into a defensive fighting stance, with as much armor and blade between him and the blades leveled dangerously at him. His terror was clear as day, though. His knuckles’ fur was spreading from how tight his grip was, and his breathing was irregular and short.
Werthin dropped into his fighting stance, his blade held close to him, and his chest turned as perpendicular to his opponent as he could manage while still facing him. His current lack of body armor made him incredibly nervous because one lucky hit would be it for him.
The whole wolf tribe was about to pounce on the lion prince when Worina’s voice rang out in warning. “Second speedor inbound! Another lion!”
Wutzel put up his hand to get every wolf to pause as the second speedor whirred up. It stopped, and a much younger lion dismounted, a crown also marking him as royal. This one was in similar armor but with a chain undershirt and a lighter torso plate. Emerald green eyes shone with panic out from behind his glasses. His fur was much darker than his brethren, a dark brown with lighter red highlights in his growing mane. He ran to the side of his fellow lion and tugged on his shoulder. “Leyan! What are you doing!?” His voice quivered with fear.
Leyan shrugged him off. “Avenging our father Laith, now get out of here, you are not capable of handling this.” There was a collective tension and hesitation that rose in all the wolves as they realized that they now had both of the lion princes to deal with. Wutzel broke down into unchecked anger as the new lion stared him down. “Your brother comes waltzing into our land and accuses us of killing your father! He then insults our entire pack! By all rights of the moon, he is ours to deal with, boy. Leave now before we are forced to kill you as well!”
The tension and anger in the pack were thick enough to chew on. The steam rising from the breath of the wolves gave them an almost ghostly look. Their collective eyes darted from the lions to their leader, awaiting a command.
“Please brother! Come home! I am just as hurt as you, but that is no excuse to get yourself killed!” The younger lion pleaded, his voice cracking from stress. "This is how you change everything for the worse!”
Leyan glared at his brother, his teeth barred and his body shaking with fury. “No one needs to hear your words!”
Laith also drew his sword, a narrower tachi whose edges glowed blue with chi energy. The wolves turned their attention to him, but instead of turning to face them, he turned to his brother. Regret was etched into his face as he unsteadily gripped the blade. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will do what I have to to make sure you are safe.”
His brother’s face flashed surprise at the actions but returned to his rage as he pointed his blade tip between Laith’s eyes. Laith took a step back, the scent of fear wafting off him. “You are still a coward.” Leyan hawked at Laith.
Wutzel snarled, clearly having enough of their crap. “The sibling conflict is awfully cute, but you two are still trespassing on our home. I'll give you two 30 seconds to leave before I let my family have dinner.”
The two lions stared at each other, no words exchanged, but they were clearly having a very in-depth conversation. Laith was doing his best to look big, but his eyes were still darting around, his tachi being shifted from one hand to another. Leyan still looked murderous but seemed to be slowly coming to his senses, as his posture got more and more relaxed as they stared at each other. Wutzel kept tapping his foot and counting out loud. “15 seconds!”
The lions came to some sort of agreement because Leyan sneered once more at the wolves as he turned and stepped onto his speedor. “I will prove to everyone what you did.” He shouted as his ride hummed to life, and he took off. Laith still smelled like fear as he scanned the crowd of wolves with a look of sorrow. His voice was quiet and hurt. “I am sorry…” He then got onto his own speedor and took off after his brother.
Werthin sheathed his blade with a muted shing. He turned to look at the still hatred filled face of Wutzel. They made eye contact, and both of their expressions went deathly grim. “So that's… who's going to..?” Werthin muttered darkly. The rest of the wolves discussed everything that just happened as they slowly relaxed and went back to what they were doing.
Wutzel nodded solemnly. “We are in for one hell of a ride.”

I benefitted a lot from the advice on this subreddit and used a lot of it to guide my approach to M3 year; now that I've had the chance to sit the exam, I wanted to create an exam write-up in the hopes that it will be useful to others. This write-up is lengthy, as I wanted to include advice for any new M3 students about how to maximize 3rd year, as well as some Step 2-specific strategies and advice.
A little about me: I am a non-traditional student (in my 30s) at a mid-tier US MD school. Pre-clinical grades were good (honored 2nd year, 0.5% away from honoring 1st year). Honored every rotation in 3rd year. I am a peer tutor at my medical school and was actively involved in tutoring 1st and 2nd year students throughout my M3 year and dedicated.
I am a big believer in students teaching students and the idea that if we all work together, we all become better students and clinicians. In that spirit, I welcome you to ask me any questions that you have below.

Overview

In general, my advice boils down to:

1. Don't try to use EVERY resource. Choose a few high-quality resources and really know them well.
2. Doing well on Step 2 (and shelf exams, tbh) requires active learning strategies and continually trying to think about what the next step would be. Practice questions are a great way to do this, but challenge yourself to go beyond what each individual question to build a broader knowledge base. That way, you won't only know the answer to that specific question, but also to a whole host of related questions.

General studying tips for 3rd year + dedicated
I am a big believer that the most effective study strategy involves four big components:

1. A question bank (UWorld) - gives you primary exposure to the material and helps to identify where your gaps are.
2. A system for continuously reviewing content - I used Anki (I discuss this more below). You can also use other strategies (note-taking, old school flash cards), but the important thing is that your review strategy needs to be ACTIVE (i.e., not just re-reading your old notes, but actively quizzing yourself and covering up the answers) and it needs to be CONTINUOUS. I did not pause any Anki cards during 3rd year, so by the time I got to dedicated, I had been actively, continuously reviewing content for months.
3. Resource(s) for primary sources - this is where you go when you need to refresh on pathophysiology, look up treatment/diagnostic testing for a disease, or understand the symptoms. I prefer UpToDate for this broadly, and used some additional resources on specific clerkships that I will discuss below.
4. Practice exams - NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms") and NBME Step 2 practice exams; do them timed to practice pacing.

A note on AMBOSS vs UWorld
A lot of people I know use AMBOSS and like it. Some people want an additional bank of questions to study from. I didn't personally use AMBOSS at all during 3rd year, and only used it for Ethics and QI during dedicated (and honestly, it was only marginally useful - may have gotten me 1 or 2 extra points on the real step 2 exam, but not more than that).
I think the smartest way to approach Q-banks is to make sure you have enough time to complete and thoroughly review at least one. For me, UWorld was more than enough to prepare well for each shelf exam and step 2 (honored every rotation). I think that a lot of people who try to use both AMBOSS and UWorld never finish either Q-bank in its entirety, or don't really review the Q-bank adequately. I decided it was a better use of my time and money to review only one but really know it well.
A note on Anki
Anki is a powerful tool that can really help with your long term retention, but it is dangerous if used incorrectly. I suspect that many people who don't find Anki helpful simply don't use it effectively.
The purpose of Anki is spaced repetition. In order for this to work, you have to keep up with reviews and you can't pause cards. I also caution students I tutor to be cautious of relying solely on a premade Anki deck; I used the AnKing deck, as well as this deck and a home-brew deck at my medical school.
During M3 year, I would start each rotation with UWorld from day 1, and as I came across each concept in UWorld, I would do a search through my Anki cards and unpause all the cards that related to that topic (so, for instance, when I got a question about diverculitis, I would then unpause all the diverticulitis cards). I found that doing this ensured that the new Anki cards I was adding were reviews of concepts I had just studied (via UWorld), so I was able to both reinforce the new content via Anki and also ensure that the new Anki cards I was adding were concepts that I was actually familiar with. I recommended this approach over the one that I saw many classmates using (just unpausing all the cards tagged for a clerkship at the start of the clerkship and "raw dogging" them, as my friend put it). It's also a good way to keep your daily new cards (and thus, your reviews) at a manageable number. On a typical day in 3rd year, I added between 50-100 new cards and averaged 250-350 reviews daily. I was nearly always able to complete my reviews while I was at the hospital each day, leaving my home study time free for UWorld.
More on how to effectively use Anki
A note on staying sane and prioritizing high-yield content
As others have said, I think that the best way to do extremely well on Step 2 CK is to approach M3 as a yearlong dedicated period. Doing well on Step 2 is not just about your preparation for the Step 2 exam, but also your learning during each rotation and your preparation for your shelf exams. Even if you're not at all interested in a particular specialty, there is a lot to learn from each rotation that will be valuable to you as a future physician. Additionally, each specialty has its own way of approaching medical decision-making, and paying attention to these patterns of thought can help you to reason through questions on exams, as well as be a better communicator with physicians in each specialty when you become a resident and attending.
As you progress through 3rd year, there are also a few things that I think it's wise to keep in mind:

• Remember that you are a person first and a medical student/doctor second. I put this first because it's the most important. It's hard to learn when your basic needs aren't being met or you're so anxious, stressed, or depressed you can't remember anything. Find something that keeps you grounded and whole and sane and make that a priority. For me, it's distance running. I ran nearly every day of 3rd year and dedicated (often at 3 AM, before rounds). I finished 3 marathons during M3 and dedicated, including running the Boston Marathon 2 weeks before I took step 2. Running relieves anxiety, gives me an excuse to step away from studying, and evens out my mood. In total, I ran over 2500 miles during my M3 year. I don't think I would have done anywhere near as well in M3 without it.
• Get really, really good at preventive care. The US Preventive Services Task Force guidelines are highly tested on all shelf exams and on Step 2, and there really aren't that many of them. Before my family med rotation, I made an Anki deck of the A and B recommendations based on the most recent updates and kept those in rotation through Step 2 (about 150 cards total). If you're at the beginning of M3 year, (or really any point in M3) I would suggest doing this right now. Every time you see a patient in clinic, think about "what screening exams should this patient have". If you get in the habit of always doing this, by the time you get to the exam, those screening questions will be free points (and there are usually a bunch of them).
• Try to approach every patient encounter as though you are the sole physician responsible for that patient's care. Formulate your own plan independently of residents or attendings. Ask questions about all these things in your patient interview, and present the answers to your attending. You will learn more if you push yourself to try to think about management from the beginning of 3rd year rather than relying on plans from your residents.
• Pay attention to sensitivity and specificity of tests. This is becoming a bigger and bigger deal on NBMEs and Step 2. Knowing sensitivity and specificity can help you determine whether a given finding in a question stem is significant or not.
• Look up every imaging test and diagnostic procedure you come across, whether in clinic or on a practice exam. A good rule of thumb for whether you understand a test is "Do I know when this test is appropriate, when it is inappropriate, and could I explain it to a patient?". I had a surgery fellow pimp me on when to order an ERCP vs MRCP; this stuff is important because it prevents unnecessary testing and allows you to get the most "bang for your buck", both in terms of diagnostic accuracy and scoring points on the "next step" questions on exams.
• Pay attention to thresholds for follow-up observation vs treatment. If a patient has a AAA that's 3 cm, you do serial ultrasounds and watch it clinically; if it's 7 cm, you operate. Many, many conditions have similar thresholds, and you should look for the differences in how you manage a condition based on the thresholds. Sometimes this stuff is buried in the UWorld explanations, so when you see it, make a flash card or add it to your review.
• Know the USPSTF screening guidelines like the back of your hand. There aren't that many of them, and it's basically free points on every single shelf exam + step 2. Make a flash card deck with the most updated versions on day 1 and review it throughout 3rd year. Especially high yield on FM + IM, but they appear on every shelf.
• Think about what things a specialty "cares about" when you're rotating on that specialty.
  • OBGYN: gestational age, STI history/screening, social/fam Hx of risk factors for gyn cancers (breast, cervical, ovarian, endometrial).
  • Surgery: is the patient safe to take to surgery (comorbidities, heart failure, coagulopathies, meds, etc)? When is surgery indicated (i.e., do they have to go now, or can they wait)? Antibiotic prophylaxis (who needs it, and what antibiotics)? Post-op complications (the "5 W's", leaks, nearby structures that can be injured)? Normal post-op care/patient safety (DVT prophylaxis, catheter removal, infections, etc).
  • Peds: developmental milestones/normal development/growth curves, rashes (pediatricians love rashes), upper respiratory infections, stuff that gets treated differently in kids (ex. febrile UTI), neonatal hyperbilirubinemia (basically guaranteed to get at least one question on this on any peds exam)
  • IM: Preventive care/screening, vaccines, hypertension, diabetes, heart failure, ACS, liver failure/cirrhosis.
  • FM: IM + Peds + OBGYN, with a heavy focus on preventive screenings
  • Psych: Pay attention to timelines; think of every psych disease as a continuum (i.e., <1 mo = brief psychotic disorder, 1-6 mo = schizophreniform, 6+ = schizophrenia, schizophrenia + mood symptoms = schizophreniform). Find something that makes sense to you for the personality disorders (I personally mapped them all onto Harry Potter characters and now I will never have to re-learn them).
  • Neuro: Differentiating causes of stroke, multiple sclerosis, when to get an MRI (answer: always get an MRI in neuro), different types of dementia

Subject Review

This section is intended for those who are starting or still in the midst of M3 year. If you're already in dedicated, this section may be less useful.
For all rotations, my strategy was generally:

1. Complete the UWorld Shelf exam Q-bank with 1-2 weeks to spare
2. Make/unpause Anki cards as I worked through UWorld
3. Take timed NBME practice shelf exams regularly throughout the rotation(I sat down at the start of each rotation and planned these out every 1-2 weeks so they were evenly spaced throughout the rotation). Get through every practice exam by the end of the rotation. Doing them timed is important because it helps you to practice pacing. One 50-question exam at 90 seconds/ question = 75 minutes total. I also wrote down the diagnosis for each question so that when I reviewed the exam, I could see whether any wrong answers were a problem with making the wrong diagnosis vs knowing the next step. Doing the NBME shelf exams also gives you a good sense of what the "pet concepts" that tend to occur over and over are (for instance, SCFE vs Legg-Calve-Perthes comes up shockingly often)

Order of rotations:
I did my rotations in the order listed below and I really liked this order. I know many people advocate for finishing on Internal Medicine, but I was very glad I started with it, because I think it laid a strong foundation for everything else. As long as you have a solid strategy for reviewing the IM content continuously throughout the year, I think it's a smart choice for the first rotation, especially because basically every other shelf exam will have 5-10 IM questions on it.
Medicine
Resources: UWorld (IM shelf bank + 1/2 of Ambulatory), Case Files Internal Medicine (did ~50% of it), USPSTF A & B guidelines, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms"), Emma Holliday review
Advice: If you have free time 1-2 weeks before starting IM, get through as much of Case Files as you can. It lays a good base and helps you get into the mindset of IM. Once you start the rotation, crank through UWorld. I'd suggest trying to finish the UWorld Q's with 1-2 weeks to spare at the end of the clerkship in which you can review incorrects and/or shore up any weak areas.
Raw Score: 85
Neurology
Resources: UWorld, Case Files: Neurology, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms")
Advice: Case Files Neuro is a little in the weeds, but it will help a lot with some of the more off-the-wall pathologies that aren't really seen in the UWorld bank.
Raw Score: 90
Psychiatry
Resources: UWorld, Case Files: Psych, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms"). A lot of people swear by First Aid for the Psychiatry Clerkship; I didn't use it (but I think Case Files accomplished much the same purpose)
Advice: Pay attention to timelines + enjoy the psychation! This is the lightest rotation for most people. Take it in the summer if at all possible and enjoy the nice weather and free time. If you can, get it somewhere in the middle of 3rd year so you can have a little break.
Raw Score: 94
Family Medicine
Resources: UWorld (FM bank + 1/2 of ambulatory bank), Case Files: Family Med, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms"), USPSTF A & B guidelines, CDC vaccination schedules
Advice: Try to take FM after IM, if at all possible. DO NOT underestimate the family medicine shelf exam. It is the broadest shelf exam, and it's heavily weighted towards prevention, so plan your studying accordingly. Know the USPSTF guidelines and vaccine schedules like the back of your hand (this is at least 25-30% of the shelf exam).
Raw Score: 85
Surgery
Resources: UWorld (Surgery bank + EM bank), de Virgilio's Surgery, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms") for EM and Surgery, American College of Surgeons TEAM (Trauma Evaluation and Management) course book, Emma Holliday review
Advice: The surgery shelf exam focuses heavily on the pre- and post-surgical management of surgical patients, trauma assessment (hence the EM questions/CMS forms above), and knowing the indications for surgery. You will not be asked how to do a surgery on the shelf exam, but you will be expected to know when a surgery is indicated vs when medical management should be used instead (and also what that medical management is). De Virgilio's is a great and under-utilized resource that has a fantastic question bank at the end of each chapter. I would recommend reading at least the GI, vascular, breast, endocrine, and trauma sections (and honestly, as much of it as you have time for).
Raw Score: 85
Obstetrics and Gynecology
Resources: UWorld, Case Files: OBGYN, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms"), ACOG guidelines, UWise questions
Advice: OBGYN is all about timelines (at least, the OB part is). Pay attention to gestational age requirements for diagnosis of various conditions. Know the various labs that are used to diagnose Pre-eclampsia with severe features, and really pay attention to risk factors for the various obstetric complications. As one nurse midwife I worked with put it, "The biggest risk factor anything in L & D is usually a history of the same complication". I didn't really find the UWise Q-bank that useful, but if you have extra time, it's a nice source of extra practice questions, or a good way to reinforce any trouble spots.
Raw Score: 87
Pediatrics
Resources: UWorld, Case Files: Pediatrics, NBME practice shelf exams ("CMS forms"), CDC vaccination schedule, Emma Holliday review
Advice: Know the general trends of pediatric vital signs (what's normal for an adult is abnormal for most pediatric patients and vice versa), pay attention to rashes and dermatology, and review these as often as possible. It's well worth your time to do a good review of all the glycogen storage diseases, inborn errors of metabolism, lysosomal storage diseases, etc that you forgot after Step 1. For this reason, if you can do Peds as your last rotation before Step 2 it's kind of nice...then you only have to re-learn all this stuff once. This stuff is fair game for Step 2 (and I did personally get questions on it on my exam).
Raw Score: 91

Dedicated Study

I completed my first pass of UWorld during my M3 core rotations with an average of 74%. I did reset UWorld and begin a 2nd pass during dedicated, but I found that the questions repeated a lot of content that I knew well, and ultimately decided it wasn't a good use of my time. I only completed about 20% of my 2nd pass of UWorld with an average of 92%.
My main resources during dedicated were NBME practice exams (I did 8-14 timed), UWSAs, and the Free 120. I also listened to some Divine Intervention episodes on my runs and reviewed the Emma Holliday shelf exam reviews (I had previously listened to these during my M3 rotations). Of the podcasts, I found the Divine Intervention Free 120 review the most helpful, and would strongly recommend listening to those episodes after you take the Free 120. It did a lot to help me with some test taking strategies that I used on exam day.
General advice for dedicated:

• Keep on a regular sleep schedule, even on your days off. I went to bed at 10 and got up at 6 every day, because I wanted my schedule to be close to what I would need to do on test day.
• Take days off. I took at least 1/2 a day off every week. I also ran a major marathon 2 weeks before my test day, so that was a very light weekend in terms of studying.
• Keep exercising and doing things you enjoy. For me, this meant running a marathon (something I do regularly). You don't have to go as crazy as I did, but do something to get outside and stay active. It will help you keep the anxiety under control and see the sunlight every so often.
• Take practice exams regularly and spend plenty of time reviewing them. I made a google doc to keep track of incorrects and assigned each one to a category of "why I got it wrong" (i.e., "overthinking", "knowledge gap", "guessed wrong of 2", etc). This helps to identify trends. I found that I have a tendency to overthink questions, so identifying this helped me to address this weakness and gave me confidence to go with my gut instinct on the exam.
• Don't be afraid to adjust your study plan during dedicated. I started a 2nd pass of UWorld, but after about 2 weeks of dedicated, I felt like I wasn't really getting anything additional out of it and I was remembering too many of the questions from my 1st pass, so I just stopped using it. I spent that time on other resources instead (more practice exams). Take the time to really analyze which activities are actually helping your learning. Don't just do something because that's what everyone else is doing during their dedicated.
• Keep up with your review strategy. For me, this was Anki. I spent 2-4 hours every morning during dedicated doing Anki. At times, I worried that this was too much time on Anki, but part of what makes Step 2 (and all USMLE exams) challenging is the sheer breadth of content. The best way to prep for this is to keep consistent with your review strategy.
• If there's a concept you dread seeing in a question stem, STOP, do not pass Go, do not collect $20. Take a second to go to a primary source (UpToDate, a textbook) and review that content. Make some flash cards and review it regularly.
• Practice your timing. I came up with my exam day break strategy at the start of my dedicated, and every time I took a practice exam, I practiced my break strategy (at least, the first 5 blocks of my break strategy). This made it very easy for me to execute on test day because I was already used to doing 5 blocks in a row exactly this way. I took my lunch break after block 5 instead of block 4 (because I liked the psychological factor of knowing the exam was more than halfway done). Coming back for 3 more was no problem on test day.

My practice exam scores:
CCSE: 254 (my school requires this, and it was given a few days after the final shelf exam, right at the start of my dedicated period)
NBME 9 (30 days out) 269
NBME 10 (21 days out) 268
NBME 11 (18 days out) 262
NBME 12 (15 days out) 251
NBME 13 (7 days out) 264
NBME 14 (2 days out) 264
UWSA 1 (25 days out) 254
UWSA 2 (9 days out) 268
UWSA 3 (5 days out) 266
New Free 120 (3 days out) 85%
Predicted score: 265

The Day Before

Just take a break, for the love of all that is good. I went for a run, watched some old TV, read for fun, had a nice pasta dinner, and tried to go to bed early. Laid out everything I needed (lucky t-shirt, snacks, testing permit, ID, keys, etc).
Of course, I ended up tossing and turning most of the night and slept very poorly. When I woke up, I considered trying to postpone my test, but ultimately I decided I just wanted it over and done with and I wasn't willing to wait any longer. My point here is that even if you have anxiety and/or a single bad night of sleep before the exam, you can still do very well if you've done the work. As we say in the marathon world, trust your training.

The Test

Got to the testing center 45 minutes early. Made sure the last thing I did before going through security was to take a bathroom break. Brought plenty of snacks, headache medication, chocolate, and a healthy and delicious lunch (I think there's some psychological power in knowing you have a delicious lunch awaiting you).
During the exam, I took a break of at least 5 min after every block. Personally, I found the mental break was extremely helpful. On the whole, I found the exam to be quite reasonable.
Step 2 CK: 277
My last piece of advice will be that I think doing well throughout third year is the best thing you can do. If you've had a break after 3rd year or you are an IMG or someone coming from a non-traditional program, doing a thorough content review with the CMS forms before starting Step 2 specific practice exams is a good idea.
Ultimately, I think the most important things are:
1.) Choosing a FEW, QUALITY resources to review
2.) Continuing your ACTIVE, CONTINUOUS review strategy
3.) Keeping a consistent schedule with time for sleep, healthy eating, exercise, and something you find fun (ideally something other than TV).
4.) Staying off Reddit. Really, I mean it. Especially during dedicated, it's just a black hole of anxiety and angst and you should avoid it at all costs. Come back after you get your amazing scores and pay it forward to others.