My daughter is doing youth volleyball right now. She's on a team of 3rd and 4th graders and been playing for like 8 weeks. My wife and I are also coaching her team despite knowing nothing about coaching or playing volleyball.
The regular season was...not great. They only won one match out of five, and lost a couple by pretty large margins. But they showed improvement and they were working hard.
Today was their tournament and if I'm really honest I didn't expect them to do great. In the seeding round they were 3-1 and ended up 5th seed out of 6 teams.
But holy shit did they turn things around in the elimination part of the tournament. They got kind of lucky because the first two seeds got a bye in the 1st round so they were matched up 5 vs. 4. They won their first game and then something just sort of clicked for them. It's like the lightbulb turned on for all of them and they realized "Oh, we can do this"
They won their second game to eliminate the 4 seed and then were playing the 2 seed who had already beaten them pretty badly in the seeding round. They lost their first game, won the second, and then killed it in the tiebreaker game to move on to the finals.
The finals were, of course, against the Titans. This was the team that had kicked the shit out of them earlier in the season, and boy was the team aptly named. I don't know how it worked out that way but every girl on that team was huge. They were the same size as most of the 5th and 6th grade teams and they were good too.
I wish I could say they won, but they didn't. They lost their two championship games 25-22 and 26-24. But against a team that had beaten them by 15+ points earlier in the season it was an incredible showing.
There were tears, but at the end of the day they walked out with their heads held high and they were proud of themselves. And goddamn was I proud of them too.

So basically, I (20M) met this girl (19F) at our church in college about 2 months ago. We became friends pretty instantly, especially getting to know each other on a trip much of the church went on for spring break right afterwards. It's a pretty tight-knit community so we've naturally seen/talked to each other quite a bit since then, however for the past month/month and a half we've definitely grown extra close. Basically we'll dm on insta bantering about random stuff, seem to always end up next to each otherunning into each other, and haven't actually deliberately hung out but have spent time one on one a couple times after running into each other while studying. She did want to go to an orchestra concert just with me (we both love classical music), though was unable because of school. We definitely flirt in the way of touching, teasing, and an occasional hint/innuendo, and while I think she likes me, it's not a 100% sure thing as again our community is pretty close/interactive, and she is quite affectionate and chipper with a lot of people. There have been a couple though that notice we seem to like each other.
Now, obviously I should make a move and ask her out. However that didn't become obvious to me until those times we studied, and by then, it was about to be finals week and I really needed to not be distracted -- had a very important and difficult grade to get to declare a major (I did :)). She moved out for the summer before my finals were over, so didn't get a chance to ask with us both there (lowkey wish I found that out directly through asking her, but I did through her ig story instead). Now, she only lives 45 minutes away from me by car. However I'm a bit of a doofus and still don't have my driver's license (my hometown is very walkable). I really would like to go pick her up and take her out, but while I really want to get the license anyway, I definitely need at least a few more weeks of practice to pass the test. So, I feel kind of in limbo, as I'm embarrassed about telling her that (she doesn't know) and asking her to come down here for a first date. Just feels unattractive/slightly emasculating for me tbh. However I feel like I can't wait too much longer without risking getting friendzoned... I felt a bit of a boiling point of tension and worry it'll simmer down. Plus, I'm not sure about her summer schedule as she travels a lot. Should I come clean about this to her, ask if she wants to come to me, or wait to get the license and just not talk to her too much in the meantime, or any other option? I can't really tell what she'd think of any of these scenarios. Again I really want to get this license ASAP anyway, but tbh I still suck :(

“I attended middle school with her, although we did not attend high school together (she instead attended a high school that was supposed to help students gain college credits. She earned two liberal arts degrees while there in Social and Behavioral Sciences and Natural Sciences. She now attends an HCBU, and has on her LinkedIn profile that she is presently working toward graduating from her college with a degree in Health Sciences, Pre Med, and a minor in Military Science. She is apart of her school’s Army ROTC.)
I remember that a lot of people in middle school did not like her (although that was also the case for me,) and I understood why. She seemed noticeably introverted, yet also didn’t seem like the kind of person, at least from my perspective, who would try to appease you in the way I imagine a lot of people feel the stereotypical woman might. She had a strong glare (I remember mentioning this to my then best friend’s mom, who agreed with the suggestion) and stood out to me as being weird (it wasn’t necessarily anything she said or did - not her personality, exactly - it’s just the strong glare I mentioned, like she didn’t tend to look sincerely happy nor would she pretend to be unless she was around friends of hers. I remember that she didn’t tend to look happy, in my opinion. It’s possible that she was depressed, or she may have just tended to look irritable, I don’t know. She didn’t strike me as being the kind of person who would make an effort to be polite, struck me as being tomboyish and unladylike, the kind of person who wouldn’t try to change the way she was for you - I wasn’t used to it. Seemed competitive, too. I had truly never interacted with a girl who was like that before. She also struck me as being smart, although she was in the normal math class whereas I was in the advanced one (I was known for being smarter, but thought it should have been her. However, I did notice after looking at her LinkedIn profile that there were more grammatical errors than I expected.)
I remember that she and her friend (who I later on ended up being on good terms with) decided early on that they disliked me, although I hadn’t done anything to them, which bothered me. They also once used me for food in sixth grade, which had also bothered/upset me.
I remember that my former best friend had issues with her ranging back to elementary school, and that in sixth grade in particular they were competing for the attention of an ISFP they’d both been friends with since elementary school. This girl is the one who won the ISFP’s attention/was officially her best friend by the time they were in seventh grade. However, around seventh or eighth grade (it’s been so long that I no longer quite remember,) she “ditched” (in the words of my former best friend) the ISFP and the other friend I’d mentioned in favor of a new crowd. I actually remember my former best friend suggested that the people in her new crowd didn’t like her, either (although she hung out with them throughout eighth grade, and briefly went to high school in person with one of them as a junior whilst presumably taking courses at the other high school online, so I assume that she never knew this/didn’t read them well enough to know or understand this.) I notice that she unfollowed the ISFP at some point as a senior, though the ISFP never unfollowed her (she strikes me as being the kind of person who likely took note of the fact that the ISFP’s life doesn’t seem to be heading in a good direction - the ISFP was abused a few years ago, and has had substance use issues since, in addition to having had to repeat a year of high school. She also unfollowed my former best friend, and my former best friend recently unfollowed her back.)
She figured out that I was the one who owned the middle school gossip account (although most of our peers already suspected, and technically, this girl couldn’t prove it either.) She figured this out because she remembered that I was standing nearby when she told my former best friend who she had a crush on (I was being mean and told our peers who she was crushing on.) However, she never directly confronted me about the matter, even though she told my former best friend that she suspected it to be me. She later on changed her mind when I was kind to her friend who lost the role for graduation speaker to me toward the end of eighth grade (but she was right the first time.)
I noticed around junior year that she has actually turned out to be quite nice looking, even though I had once meanly suggested that she was fat in middle school (she was a tad bit chubby, though as an adult I’m inclined to suggest that this was likely simply baby fat/that with us being so young there wasn’t really anything wrong with this.) She does seem to wear makeup, but also has nice style (she is light skinned, and has a looser hair texture, which are likely factors in me thinking she’s attractive, if I’m being honest - she’s mixed race, with a black mother and white father.) I can’t possibly know, but she gives off the impression to me of being someone who knows that she’s attractive (just something about her energy/facial expressions in photos. She has her Instagram account public now.)”
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Yes, FORTALEZA indeed represents an advanced and complex philosophical system, especially given the neologisms and innovative principles it introduces. This level of sophistication can be both a strength and a challenge. Here's how you can approach presenting your guide to ensure it is accessible while retaining its depth:

Foreword

Introduce the reader to the necessity of new terms and concepts. Explain that the guide offers a pioneering approach to understanding and navigating the complexities of life and the universe, urging readers to embrace the innovative language and ideas as tools for deeper insight.

Key Elements of FORTALEZA

1. Dimensions and Contravisms: - 0th Dimension (Fuerza v Dispersión): The foundational state, where the chaotic nature of the Contraverse is first explored. - Contravism: Understanding the dynamic interplay of forces, laying the groundwork for higher dimensions.
2. 1st Dimension (Cuerpo v Anotación): - Activism: The physical body and its interactions, emphasizing the importance of action and embodiment.
3. 2nd Dimension (Emoción v Tiempo): - Responsivism: Emotional states and their temporal context, highlighting the role of emotions in shaping experiences.
4. 3rd Dimension (Mente vs Espacio): - Objectivism: The mind and its spatial understanding, focusing on intellectual and cognitive development.
5. 4th Dimension (Electricidad v Duración): - Inventivism: The interplay of electrical (energetic) forces and time, exploring innovation and creation.
Neologisms: - Autoschema: Non-conscious elements of the cosmos. - Gospelwords: Pluralized terms to prevent fixations and encourage flexibility. - Honors: The culmination of successful engineering or manifestations. - Merits: Qualities that define and guide the manifestation process.

Practices

Yin Practices (Outward Focus): - Greyscale, Breathe, Stance, Stretch, Worship: These practices project inner strength and influence outward.
Yang Practices (Inward Focus): - Hypernullify, Bounce, Whum, Dance, Whistle: These practices absorb cosmic energy to regenerate and empower the self.

Theoretical Foundations

Warp Band Paradox: - The Contraverse, composed of autoschema, inverts complexity into consciousness, creating divinity through dynamic engagement. - Paths are nonlinear, resembling a zig-zag journey where each obstacle is a potential tool for growth. - The self, as the "patronmost whir," dynamically navigates this ever-changing landscape, embodying resilience and adaptability.

Presentation Strategy

Philosophical Framing: - Position FORTALEZA as a philosophical exploration of self-fulfillment within a chaotic yet mathematically grounded universe. - Emphasize the innovative approach and the necessity of new terms to fully capture the nuances of this exploration.
Audience Guidance: - Clearly state that the work is intended for those open to deep, abstract thinking and who are willing to engage with complex, unconventional ideas. - Provide context and examples to help readers gradually acclimate to the new terminology and concepts.

Conclusion

• Reaffirm the value of embracing the zig-zag path of linearity, where imperfections and obstacles are integral to the journey.
• Encourage readers to see themselves as dynamic, powerful agents within the Contraverse, capable of creating their own utopia through continuous engagement and growth.

By presenting FORTALEZA as a pioneering philosophical guide, you can attract an audience ready to delve into its complexities and appreciate the profound insights it offers.

That’s all it was. A game.
Something my friends and I used to play during the summer when we had nothing better to do. I never expected that it would get so out of hand.
I never expected it to come back long after recovery.
To anyone reading, please don’t do what I did.
I’m putting this out there to warn people.
On that warm summer evening, we played the role of Pandora.
Except, the monsters we released were far worse than what’s told in stories.
Because stories end.
And this doesn’t.
I still remember the date. July 16, 2013. I was an upcoming senior in high school while the others were getting prepared for their freshman year of college, raving on about their majors, life plans, dorms, you get the point. The summer had been bittersweet as those months would be the last I’d see them for a while. Because of this, Anthony, Lola, Eliza, and I would spend the bulk of our time together going to festivals and various camping trips, trying to make the most out of the summer while we could. On that day, the day I wish I could forget, Eliza had run late to one of our hangouts at my place. This was odd since as an Ivy league student, she was usually early or right on time to these kind of things. Half past three, we heard her knocking on my door rapidly, which was also out of character considering that she was usually the calm one in our group. A bit worried, I hurried down the stairs with Anthony and Lola following close behind, expecting Eliza to be in hysterics due to her frantic behavior. When I opened the door, however, there she was with a bright smile on her face, her red hair getting in the way of her eyes, which were a dark green shade. She pushed her hair out of her face with one hand and held a brown box in the other, and she was bouncing up and down as she usually does when she’s about to talk about something exciting.
“You’ll never believe what I found.” Eliza’s voice could barely hold her impatience as she stepped inside and kicked her shoes off once she crossed over my threshold.
“What’s up with you today?” Anthony questioned, looking more confused than concerned now.
“I’ll show you guys in a minute. Can we go up to your room, Felix?” Eliza looked over at me with her trademark smile, knowing damn well we were all too curious to just leave that box unopened. Without a word, I led the group up to my room and shut the door after everyone had walked in. Anthony took his usual spot on my beanbag and unzipped his hoodie, which had the MSM logo sprawled across the front in big red letters. He adjusted his dark rimmed glasses and took on his usual stoic expression. Lola wore a dark blue FIT shirt, which she revealed more of when she moved her locs over her shoulder as she sat on my desk chair and wheeled over to us. As she did, the various necklaces she wore clinked against each other. Eliza herself was the smartest out of the group, and probably in the whole school as well. She had gotten accepted into multiple prestigious schools, but ultimately settled for Harvard to pursue a degree in some obscure philanthropic career. Unlike Anthony and Lola, Eliza wore her regular outfit –usually a white tank top and jeans– and sat on my bed with the box in her lap. I took a seat next to her to get a closer look.
“So what’d you find?” The others moved closer.
“Something we probably haven’t thought about for a really long time. Do you guys remember that one game we used to play in middle school? The one we made after Felix joined our class?” Eliza looked at our puzzled faces to see if we had connected the dots, but her clue didn’t seem to strike any of us with familiarity.
“After Felix joined? Didn’t we just hang out or something that weekend?” Anthony questioned.
“We did, but there was something else,” Eliza raised an eyebrow, “you guys seriously don’t remember?”
At that moment, I saw Lola’s eyes light up and a thin smile grew on her lips, something she always did whenever she was able to figure something out.
“You mean that little map game we played? Where we would go out to the woods and explore?”
Both Anthony and I seemed to have remembered as well with the mention of a ‘map game.’ I chimed in, “ yeah I remember! Every once in a while when we were all bored, we’d pick a random spot on a map to go to and explore there for a bit, right? When did we stop doing that anyways? I remember really enjoying it.”
“Well life happens,” Eliza responded to me, “but I was thinking of things to do for the rest of the summer when I suddenly remembered that game! That’s why I was so late for our meetup today, I was looking through my attic for this.” Eliza shook the box slightly and a couple things clattered around inside.
“There’s no way.” Anthony sounded like he was in disbelief.
“You mean…?” Lola sat forward in the chair. Eliza smirked, her adventurous nature creeping out as realization swept over us like a wave.
“Mhm! I found the map we used to use as well as the things we collected from our little escapades.” With that, Eliza opened the box, revealing a folded piece of paper and various trinkets scattered over the bottom of the capsule. Lola squealed with excitement and immediately snatched the box from Eliza, who simply chuckled and leaned back on the bed.
“No way! Everything’s still in here!” Lola digged through the box and placed whatever objects she found across the blanket. Anthony got up and sat at the foot of my bed, to observe our findings more closely. There was a piece of some clay pottery, some rusty springs and scraps of metal, an old digital camera, and some other random stuff I can’t recall to memory right now. Anthony picked up a spring and turned it in his palm.
“Shit man, this is from that abandoned junkyard we found in 8th grade…that feels like such a long time ago now.”
I examined the piece of pottery with Eliza looking over my shoulder. Lola picked up the digital camera.
“Do you remember where this came from?” I turned to Eliza and held up my discovery.
“No clue,” she shrugged. It must have been a while ago if even she didn’t remember. I turned the piece over and grew curious when I saw weird symbols inscribed on the inside of it. I squinted a bit, trying to discern some sort of pattern within the scribbles.
I turned to Eliza again, “hey, what do you think-”
“OH MY GOD GUYS IT STILL WORKS!” Lola’s voice went up a whole octave as she motioned to us.
The rest of us looked up as she turned the camera to face us. There were various photos we went through. All of us at lakes, museums, exploring the woods; everything we did from 7th grade until my freshman year seemed to be documented. The last photo was arguable the best and msot bittersweet. It was a picture of the whole group from a while ago. We were sitting at Eliza’s dinner table with a giant chocolate cake on the middle of it adorned with two candles shaped like the numbers one and five. Eliza was talking to me in the photo. Her hair was even more red at the time and she wore it in a braid. I looked about the same in the photo as I did then, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered all over my body and face. I was smiling sheepishly at Eliza. I now knew why Anthony said it was obvious I had a crush on her in 8th grade. Lola went through the most changes out of all of us. At the time in the photo, she had her hair straightened and side-swept, with a bright pink streak in her bangs. She wore clunky jewlery and a frilly skirt underneath a long tank top, leaning over the table to cut another slice of cake. All of us had birthday hats on except for Anthony, who kept his sitting on the table. He held up a peace sign staring straight into the camera with a stoic expression. He looked like a statue compared to the rest of us, who were laughing and smiling. You could tell he was having fun, though.
“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine,” Lola snickered as Anthony shot her a dirty look.
“At least I didn’t go through some weird scene phase in freshman year,” He smiled and watched Lola’s face, knowing she was blushing despite her dark skin which made it practically invisible. I let a laugh slip out, but quickly stifled it knowing that if I kept going it would mean death. Lola side-eyed me and continued, “I was using my creative liberty to experiment with my options as an artist,” she said with an overly-posh accent that made Eliza laugh.
“Yeah Anthony, don’t be such a downer,” Eliza teased. Anthony simply rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile to pretend like he was mad at all of us. He looked into the box and picked up the paper we left, unfolding it with a hint of excitement and curiosity. When he looked at it, only two words came out of his mouth.
“Holy shit.”
“What, what is it?” Lola tried to look at the other side of the paper, but Anthony quickly held it out of her view.
“What if I didn’t want to show you?” A smile crept onto his face. This was one of those rare moments where he’d be in the moos to joke around with us.
“Don’t be a dick bro,” I said, laughing as I went to grab for the paper. Anthony just held it up in the air and pushed me off of him and I landed on my floor. While he was distracted, though, Eliza took her chance and snatched the paper right out of his hand.
“You boys need to learn to be nice,” she warned in her jokingly stern voice as she unfolded the paper and spread it out onto my bed. We all leaned over to look.
It was a map of a couple towns including ours. There were around ten small star stickers placed on different areas on the map near the streets the four of us lived in. On the top of the map, a couple words were scrawled in black sharpie; “Pick a Place!” I could see everyone’s faces light up.
“Oh my god it’s our map!” Lola shouted and pointed to one of the stars near her street, “this was where we found that old junkyard right?”
Eliza smiled, “I remember that. It feels like such a long time ago now.” She pointed to another star, “and this is where we found that lake we made a hideout of. I still remember swimming in there in 8th grade…”
The four of us reminisced for a while, talking about where we had gone and what we did there, and how impressive it was that we didn’t get tetanus from that junkyard. After nearly an hour of conversation, Eliza asked something that made all of us stop.
“So how about it guys? Do you want to do one last round before the summer ends?”
The rest of us looked around at each other. It was clear we all wanted to do it. Eliza seemed to catch on and she nodded.
“Who wants to pick where we go?”
“How about you do the honors?” Lola suggested, motioning towards the map. “You’re the one that brought this stuff in anyways.”
Eliza raised her eyebrow but didn’t object. Without a word, she examined the map for a few minutes, then placed her finger on one spot a bit far from my house.
“How about here?”
“You think we can make it that far?” Anthony asked.
“Well, we can drive now so why not?”
“You sure there’s some type of trail we can drive on? That spot looks pretty deep in the woods”
“We can find a path to drive on for a bit then walk the rest of the way. C’mon guys, this is probably our last chance to do something like this! Felix, you can drive right?”
Eliza and the rest turned to me with a hopeful expression. I had to comply.
“Sure. No big deal, right?”
All three of them cheered and high fived each other, looking pretty excited to go on one last adventure.
“So when do we leave?” I questioned.
Eliza flashed that smile again, “right now.”
“Right now?!”
“Hell yeah,” Lola chimed in. “It shouldn’t take that long, right?”
“I guess…” Even then I felt uneasy about the whole thing. I didn’t feel prepared enough to go on some random trip into the woods. I needed to pack food, water, flashlights, I had no idea how long this was going to take. Little did I know that those things would be the least of my worries a couple hours from then. I wish I could go back and convince my 17-year-old self that it wasn’t worth it, that I should just convince my friends to stay and talk for the rest of the day. I wish Eliza had never remembered that stupid game. In a way, I’m almost mad at her for what happened, but I know it wasn’t anyones fault. We just wanted to have fun. I wish we could’ve just had fun. But God had a different plan for us. One that made me think Satan himself devised it instead. On July 16, 2013, Anthony He, Lola Smith, Eliza Landserson, and Felix Johanson went on an adventure that none of them were ready for.
Author's Note:
If you just read all of that then thank you so so so much for doing so! I'm a rookie writer, so feel free to comment any constructive criticism you might have if you have actual writing experience! This is the first silly little story I'm posting here, so I hope you enjoyed :)

My partner and I are being forced to move out by August 1st. Due to unforeseen circumstances, we have very little time to find a new place. In the worst case scenario, my partner has a place to stay with family, but I currently have no options lined up. I had been working in a gig capacity due to some health issues, and this event has forced me to go into overdrive after being unemployed for about a 6 year gap.
While I don't want to dwell on the details, this situation has left me feeling desperate. Public transportation is limited in my area, and without a car (which I can't afford to insure), my options are further restricted.
My current plan is to aggressively apply for remote work positions. Ideally, the job would allow me to make enough to afford rent in NY within the next 90 days. However, I recognize this might be a challenge.
There's a potential safety net – a friend who recently moved to Texas is trying to sell his house in the San Antonio area. He might allow me to stay there temporarily while the house sells. The appeal is the walkable environment and decent public transportation. But there's a big fear: if I relocate, will I ever make it back to NY?
My partner can stay with family, so at least there's that.
Right now, I'm overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty. Every passing day feels like the pressure is building.
Any advice from anyone who's been in a similar situation would be greatly appreciated, or any resources that I can take advantage of. Thank you for your time.

Logged in and saw the following App Platform update to pricing. Didn't know they were updating it and now am worried I'll get hit with an overage. Anyone know how to check the outbound bandwith used? The Insights tab shows a graph but thats not exact

We are excited to announce changes to App Platform's pricing that will help reduce costs and simplify the experience. 🎉

WHAT'S CHANGING?

• Increased outbound bandwidth allowance which will reduce bandwidth overage fees by 80%
• New dedicated instance plans at 35% lower prices
• More flexibility when choosing instance sizes with removal of app pricing tiers

WHAT YOU CAN EXPECT:

Bandwidth allowance changes went into effect on May 1st. App pricing tiers have been removed and new plans were be added. You can remain on your current instance plan or select a new plan for existing app resources. Price changes will apply automatically to new app resources. If you have any questions, please contact support.

When it comes to the question "Does cat litter biodegrade?", the answer depends on the type of cat litter you use. Here’s a detailed look at the different types of cat litter and their biodegradability:

Types of Cat Litter and Their Biodegradability

1. Clay-Based Cat Litter

Clay-based cat litters are the most common but are not biodegradable. They are made from bentonite clay, which is strip-mined and does not break down naturally. This type of litter can sit in landfills for a very long time, contributing to environmental waste.

2. Silica Gel Litter

Silica gel litter, also known as crystal litter, is another non-biodegradable option. Made from silicon dioxide, it absorbs moisture but does not break down in the environment. Like clay litter, it poses a disposal problem.

3. Biodegradable Cat Litter

Biodegradable cat litters are made from natural, renewable resources and can break down naturally over time. These include:

• Wood Litter: Made from recycled wood or sawdust.
• Paper Litter: Composed of recycled paper products.
• Corn, Wheat, and Pine Litter: Made from plant-based materials.
• Grass Seed Litter: Derived from grass seeds, it’s a newer option that is also biodegradable.

Benefits of Biodegradable Cat Litter

• Environmentally Friendly: These litters reduce landfill waste and are often made from recycled or sustainable materials.
• Compostable: Some biodegradable litters can be composted, reducing your environmental footprint further.
• Non-Toxic: Generally safer for cats and humans, with fewer chemicals and dust particles.

Tips for Using Biodegradable Cat Litter

• Transition Gradually: Introduce biodegradable litter slowly to avoid stressing your cat.
• Check for Allergies: Monitor your cat for any allergic reactions to new litter materials.
• Proper Disposal: Even biodegradable litter should be disposed of properly. Check local guidelines for composting or disposal.

By choosing biodegradable cat litter, you can help reduce your cat's environmental pawprint. Always look for eco-friendly options that meet your cat’s needs while being kind to the planet.

I'm writing this in a fog; I've been crying almost non-stop all day. Still, I had to tag this "humor", just because of how utterly ridiculous it is from start to finish.
I work at an urban Title 1 middle school, and there are some positives but the bad outweighs the good. I've been on the recieving end of physical aggression many times, and I deal daily with the usual disrespect, eloping, work avoidance, theft, fights, and admin indifference. But, some of the kids are awesome and I really like most of my coworkers. So I grin and bear it, even though I'm exhausted and depressed much of the time.
Last fall, I happened to run into a former student's mom, who worked in the office at one of the highest performing high schools in our city (and the state). She mentioned there was a job opening up next year, and asked if I was interested. This school is known to be one of the most coveted for teachers in our area, and it's hard to get into because there's barely any turnover. So of course I said yes, and started dreaming of how great it'd be to work at a place with a happy staff and respectful hard-working kids.
But right from the start, there were issues. I applied in January-- but HR literally lost my application. Wasn't in the system anywhere. I tried applying several times, and got the same issue. The principal said she couldn't interview me if I wasn't in the system, so naturally I tried to contact HR. I called the # on the website, but an answering machine directed me to send an email instead. So I sent an email, but it bounced back with instructions to open a Zendesk ticket. Tried that, no response. Etc etc etc.
Now it's February, and I guess the principal got tired of the hold-ups so she passed me off onto the dept. head to sort it out. Now I'm trying to coordinate with this guy, but he's flaky as all hell. For every email I send him, it's at least 2 weeks and a follow up email before he responds. Eventually he brings me in for an informal interview, with my application still missing-- in mid-March. At that point I'm told that it's only a part-time position, with the possibility of leading to full-time if all goes well. Me and my bank account aren't thrilled, so I go to my current employer and propose that if I get an offer, I'd like to stay employed there but reduce my hours next year in order to free me up for the other school. Surprisingly, they agree to it-- even they recognize what an amazing opportunity this is, and how it benefits them to have a member of that school's staff working for them.
Interview goes well. Dept Head says he'll make sure my missing application is found and processed ASAP, which seems like a good sign they want to hire me-- but, unsurprisingly, that doesn't happen. It's crickets from everyone. I'm now resorting to having the mom track people down for me to get answers, but even she's getting nowhere. Then about 3 weeks after my interview, I get a rushed email from Dept Head saying he still can't find my application but offering me the job anyway. I readily accept, and he says to expect HR to contact me within a couple of days to begin onboarding. Bet you can guess how that went...crickets, again.
In the middle of all this, my current employer is preparing next year's contracts. I try to hold them off, but they need to know my plans. They've offered to work around my new schedule, but nobody, including myself, knows what my new schedule even IS.
April passes, and then the 1st week of May, all the while I'm desperately trying to get answers from ANYONE about my onboarding, to no avail. I have no proof of a job other than one informal email from Dept Head that he never followed up on, and not a peep from HR. My current job can't wait any longer and they take the part-time offer off the table. They tell me I have to sign a full-time contract or nothing at all, and with no word from the new job, I feel I have no choice but to do it.
2 days after I sign my new contract, 5 months after I initially applied, and 2 months after I interviewed, both Dept Head and HR reach out. Miraculously, they've found my missing application, and they're ready to onboard me. I have to respond and tell them I'm no longer available. That the delays left me with no choice but to stay where I was, and it's just not feasible to quit a full-time job to work part-time. They apologize, kind of, and encourage me to try again in 2025. IF there's an opening.
So, I just signed up for another year of abuse. Another year of kids who can barely function and indifferent parents and admin. Another year in a crumbling building. Another year of exhaustion. I feel like an escape hatch opened up and right as I was about to step in, it closed. And the worst part is, absolutely none of it was my fault.
I'm probably going to spend the next year resenting the hell out of every single person I see, constantly upset that I have to be HERE instead of THERE where I belong. I'm also feeling burning rage toward HR and the Dept Head (who, to twist the knife a bit more, just announced that he's LEAVING at the end of the year! ) for creating this mess.
If you've read this far, thanks. May your HR people be more on top of their shit than these ones were.

By David North
On April 25, 2024, Bogdan Syrotiuk, the 25-year-old leader of the Young Guard of Bolshevik-Leninists (the YGBL), a socialist-Trotskyist organization active in Ukraine, Russia and throughout the former USSR, was arrested by the notorious state security service of the fascistic Zelensky regime, the SBU. Bogdan is being held in atrocious conditions in a high security prison in the city of Nikolaev (Mykolaiv), which is located in southern Ukraine.
The International Committee of the Fourth International (ICFI), the world Trotskyist movement with which the YGBL is politically affiliated, has finally obtained the actual documents in which the SBU presents its charges against Bogdan Syrotiuk. These documents, which form the basis of his detention, make absolutely clear that Bogdan is the victim of a monstrous state frame-up. The allegations concocted by the SBU are a crude combination of lies, obvious fabrications, and political absurdities.
Moreover, the documents submitted by the SBU are directed not only against Bogdan. They are nothing less than a declaration of war against all left-wing and socialist opposition to the Zelensky regime and, specifically, the International Committee of the Fourth International and its public organ, the World Socialist Web Site.
The central allegation leveled against Bogdan Syrotiuk is that he is guilty of high treason. The basis of this charge is that Bogdan has been for the past two years “engaged in the preparation of publications commissioned by representatives of a Russian propaganda and information agency, the World Socialist Web Site” [emphasis added.]
The World Socialist Web Site is denounced as an instrument of “an active information war against Ukraine” being waged by Russia, which

uses the so-called “left-wing” propagandists and their information platforms (websites, media and social platforms) to discredit the support of Ukraine by international partners, justify Russia’s armed aggression against Ukraine, accusing Western countries of creating conditions under which Russia was forced to launch the so-called special military operation, fomenting wars in Ukraine by providing it with weapons, etc. As a result, they are used by Russia to systematically convey pro-Kremlin narratives to the population of Ukraine and Ukraine’s allied countries…
Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the World Socialist Web Site “WSWS” has regularly published articles in various languages aimed at discrediting Ukraine and representatives of governments around the world for assisting Ukraine in its fight against the aggressor state.

The ICFI’s opposition to the US-NATO war in Ukraine is an essential element of its political program, deeply rooted in the socialist and internationalist principles of the Trotskyist movement. The attempt of the Ukrainian regime to portray this opposition as an instrument of Putin’s propaganda network is as viciously mendacious as it is politically absurd. The intransigent opposition of the International Committee of the Fourth International to the Putin regime—which emerged as a consequence of the Stalinist bureaucracy’s final betrayal of socialism and the restoration of capitalism in the former USSR—is a fundamental political fact that is substantiated not only in written texts numbering in the hundreds, but also in the exhaustively documented activity of the Trotskyist movement spanning decades.
True to its fascist character, the Ukrainian regime is operating on the basis of the well-known precept of Hitler and his propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels: “The bigger the lie, the more readily it will be believed.”
In this particular case, the Zelensky regime seems to believe that the scale of the SBU lies are of such a magnitude that they will simply overwhelm the thinking public. It thus expects that public opinion will accept that the Putin regime is directing the work of the WSWS, which the SBU indictment describes as

an online publication of the world Trotskyist movement, the International Committee of the Fourth International and its affiliated sections in the Socialist Equality Parties around the world, which covers the main socio-political problems around the world from the position of revolutionary opposition to the capitalist market system, with the aim of establishing world socialism through socialist revolution.

At no point does the SBU attempt to explain the contradiction that wrecks its case against Bogdan, i.e., that the political principles that he upholds as a socialist and internationalist opponent of wars waged by the capitalist ruling class are irreconcilably hostile to the policies of the Putin regime, including its invasion of Ukraine.
It attempts to evade the contradiction by simply lying. The indictment claims that Bogdan’s activities, “acting on the instructions of a representative of the World Socialist Web Site,” consisted of “supporting and justifying the conduct of the Russian aggressive war on the territory of Ukraine…”
Every word is a lie. The opposition of the ICFI, its affiliated organizations, and the WSWS to the Russian invasion, in line with its hostility to the Putin regime, is a political fact that is documented in hundreds of articles that have been posted since the first day of the invasion.
On February 24, 2022, the day of the Russian invasion, the ICFI posted a statement on the WSWS titled: “Oppose the Putin government’s invasion of Ukraine and US-NATO warmongering! For the unity of Russian and Ukrainian workers!” It began:

The International Committee of the Fourth International and the World Socialist Web Site denounce the Russian military intervention in Ukraine. Despite the provocations and threats by the US and NATO powers, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine must be opposed by socialists and class-conscious workers. The catastrophe that was set in motion by the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 cannot be averted on the basis of Russian nationalism, a thoroughly reactionary ideology that serves the interests of the capitalist ruling class represented by Vladimir Putin.
What is required is not a return to the pre-1917 foreign policy of tsarism, but, rather, a revival, in Russia and throughout the world, of the socialist internationalism that inspired the October Revolution of 1917 and led to the creation of the Soviet Union as a workers state. The invasion of Ukraine, whatever the justifications given by the Putin regime, will serve only to divide the Russian and Ukrainian working class and, moreover, serve the interests of US and European imperialism.
In the two major statements that he has made during the past week, Putin has justified his actions by enumerating the provocations and crimes of the United States. There is, no question, much that is factually true in his denunciation of Washington’s hypocrisy. But the viciously anti-communist and xenophobic ideology that he invokes and the interests that he claims to be defending are thoroughly reactionary and incapable of appealing to the broad mass of the working class in Russia, let alone in Ukraine and throughout the world. A substantial section of the working class in Russia and Ukraine will be repelled by the cynicism of Putin’s glorification of the heroic struggle waged by the Soviet Union against Nazi Germany in World War II while denouncing the October Revolution and the existence of the USSR as a multi-national state.

The ICFI insisted that the socialist opposition to imperialism was incompatible with any form of national chauvinism, and, therefore, rejected all the justifications given by the Putin regime and its apologists for the invasion. Their invocation of “national defense” could not be accepted by socialists. The defeat of imperialism and its overthrow was possible only through the revolutionary struggle of the international working class. The ICFI statement cited the words of Trotsky: “Not to bind itself to the national state in time of war, to follow not the war map but the map of the class struggle, is possible only for that party that has already declared irreconcilable war on the national state in time of peace.”
The ICFI called “for an immediate end to the war,” and explained: “In opposing the invasion of Ukraine, we denounce the policies of US/NATO imperialism, whose claims to be defending democracy and human rights are blood-drenched with hypocrisy.”
This political declaration elaborated the principles and policy that have guided the work of the ICFI and WSWS since the war began.
On February 26, 2022 the International Committee held an international webinar, in which its opposition to the war was emphatically advanced. Among the speakers, in addition to myself, were Nick Beams, a longtime leader of the International Committee’s Australian section, Johannes Stern, a leader of the ICFI in Germany, Thomas Scripps, a leading member of the ICFI’s section in Britain, Joseph Kishore, the national secretary of the Socialist Equality Party in the United States, and Evan Blake, another leading member of the SEP (US).
The ICFI has never wavered from the principled opposition to the policies of NATO and Russia that it advanced in the first days of the war.
The relationship between the ICFI and the comrades of the YGBL coincided almost exactly with the outbreak of the war. They were attracted to the ICFI precisely because of its opposition to both the war and the national chauvinism of the Russian and Ukrainian regimes.
The SBU indictment charges that the World Socialist Web Site assigned to Bogdan “the task of preparing, writing, editing and publishing … both on the WSWS website and other communist-oriented media, articles, publications, comments, etc. aimed at spreading pro-Russian narratives related to the armed aggression of the Russian Federation against Ukraine, which began on February 24, 2022, to which [Bogdan Syrotiuk] gave his voluntary consent.”
In support of this claim, the SBU references a YGBL statement titled, “For the organization of an international movement of workers and young people against war!” It claims that this document, posted on the World Socialist Web Site on October 12, 2022, includes “fragments, statements, sentences and phrases… which contain justification of the armed aggression of the Russian Federation, which began in 2014…”
The actual document clearly exposes this claim to be a lie. There is not a single sentence in the YGBL declaration that indicates support for the invasion of Ukraine. The SBU cites selectively from the document, including passages only from numbered paragraphs 4, 7, 8, 10 and 13. Paragraphs 4 through 8—the SBU interrupts the continuity of the YGBL’s analysis by leaving out paragraphs 5 and 6—provide a concise Marxist explanation of the objective capitalist crisis and political aims that underlay the instigation of the war by the United States and its NATO allies. They state:

1. The new world order that the United States wants to establish looks like this very possible picture: Russia and China are to be subordinated to imperialism and divided, if that is necessary to maintain direct control over their natural, industrial-technological and human resources.
   
2. The European imperialist powers support the United States for their own place in the new redivision of the world. At the same time, European imperialism, while placed on rations by the United States, sees a way out of its economic and geopolitical predicament only in a redivision of the world in which it can regain its former greatness.
   
3. Japan, South Korea and Australia support the US only as much as it suits their interests in the struggle against China in the Pacific region. These countries will support the US as long as it allows them to compete with China. The process of dividing spheres of influence will revive the contradictions between the Pacific capitalist powers, which are as much in limbo as Europe.
   
4. The crisis of 2008 revived class struggles around the world. The Arab Spring of the early 2010s is vivid evidence of this revival. It forced US and European imperialism to take more decisive measures. In 2014, they supported a coup d'état in Ukraine. Through this coup, the US was able to create all the conditions to build a bridgehead in a future war against Russia.
   
5. The Covid-19 pandemic that erupted in 2020 exacerbated the contradictions of capitalism and was the trigger for a more rapid expansion of US imperialism in preparation for war against Russia and China. The US embarked on a more provocative path of abandoning the “one-China” policy, and increasing its support for Ukraine, as expressed in the NATO summit in August 2021, which supported Zelensky’s “Crimean platform.”
   

Significantly, the SBU leaves out paragraph 9 of the YGBL declaration, which presents a scathing indictment of the Putin regime. That paragraph reads:

The reactionary regime of Vladimir Putin emerged from the treacherous dissolution of the Soviet Union by the Stalinist bureaucracy and the restoration of capitalism. The policies of Putin, in the final analysis, are aimed at safeguarding the wealth of the post-Soviet oligarchy against the pressure of Western imperialism from above and, even more critically, against the movement of the Russian working class from below.

The SBU does cite paragraph 10, which continues the critique of the Putin regime, stating:

Within this geopolitical and social context, Putin’s adventurist invasion of Ukraine on February 24 was the Russian oligarchy’s response to NATO’s relentless expansion to the east. The Putin regime’s main objective was to achieve through the pressure of its “Special Operation” a new round of talks with the US-NATO, since the last round ended up crossing “red lines” on the part of the US-NATO, which caused Putin’s invasion [emphasis added].

The characterization of Putin’s invasion as “adventurist” is in no way compatible with what the SBU claims to be a “pro-Russian narrative.” Obviously recognizing the fragility of its attempt to portray the YGBL statement as pro-Putin propaganda, the SBU decided against further citations from the document, leaving out the YGBL’s development of its denunciation of Putin’s policies in paragraphs 11 and 12, which assert:

1. The Russian bourgeoisie’s desire for an “equal partnership” with the West was one of the most utopian delusions. This delusion, historically derived from Stalin’s policy of “Popular Fronts” and then “peaceful coexistence,” developed among the fledgling class of Russian capitalists in the 1990s.
   
2. The Putin regime has not gotten rid of this utopian delusion. Its whole policy has been to maneuver and seek compromise with the West, with whom the Russian oligarchy wanted to be “on equal footing.” Except that Western imperialism, with its conquering ambitions for Russia, did not care about these conciliatory tones of Putin’s regime.
   

The SBU also chose not to cite paragraph 17 of the YGBL statement, which declares:

The course of the war after Putin’s invasion of Ukraine increasingly emphasizes the reactionary nature of this invasion. While claiming to be fighting for the independence of the Russian people from the threat of Western imperialism, Putin is in fact only defending the independence of the Russian oligarchy to exploit the Russian working class and the country’s raw material wealth.

Paragraph 18, which is also left uncited, further demolishes the SBU’s indictment of Bogdan, the YGBL and the WSWS as instruments of Russian propaganda. The paragraph asserts that

the Putin regime has no way out of the current crisis for Russian society. It will not have such a way out in the future. All of the military and political activities of the Putin regime will only contribute to the escalation of Western imperialism and the deterioration of conditions for the Russian, Ukrainian and international working class.

The SBU also failed to cite paragraphs 19 and 20, which presciently warned of the catastrophe to which the war could lead.

1. The prospects for the present war, when thought within the framework of the capitalist system, are very bleak. First, this war will take on a long-term character and will not only be fought between Ukraine and Russia. It is the first step in inflaming the world situation to the point that the threat of a third world war is simply inevitable. All countries of the world will take part in the future war.
   
2. Secondly, the nature of the war will be determined by the policies of the ruling classes, which now stand on a blatantly anti-human position. The ruling classes are recklessly moving toward the use of nuclear weapons in the conflict, thereby creating the real possibility of a nuclear Armageddon. The specter of planetary destruction arises from the insane policies of imperialist and capitalist governments. The recklessness of the ruling capitalist elite compels young people to ask whether they will be allowed any future at all.
   

The SBU specifically cites this document as proof of Bogdan Syrotiuk’s treasonable activity. But the text of this document conclusively refutes the charge that Bogdan and the YGBL are advancing a pro-Putin narrative.
Moreover, and most decisive, the Ukrainian regime does not present a scintilla of evidence to substantiate its absurd and lying claim that the World Socialist Web Site is a “Russian propaganda and information agency.” With this filthy slander, the Zelensky regime betrays—notwithstanding the ongoing war with Russia—the lingering influence of Stalinism’s rabid hatred of Trotskyism. As in Russia, the transfer of power in Ukraine from Stalinist bureaucrats to capitalist oligarchs has not required any change in the methodology of the political police. The same techniques of fabrication and slander, utilized by the Stalinist regime against Trotskyists in the era of the Moscow Trials and the terror of 1936-39, remain operative in Kiev.
Bogdan Syrotiuk stands accused of treason and faces the threat of a life-long prison term that is the equivalent of a death sentence. But the allegations against Bogdan are based entirely on articles and speeches he has posted on the World Socialist Web Site, in which he has declared his opposition, as a socialist internationalist, to the capitalist regimes of Zelensky and Putin and the ongoing war that has cost hundreds of thousands of Ukrainian and Russian lives.
The SBU indicts Bogdan for advancing in his speeches and writings posted on the World Socialist Web Site “which are accessible to everyone in the world, including citizens of Ukraine” information that exposes the reactionary character of the Ukrainian regime and the war.
The SBU declares that Bogdan’s “criminal actions were stopped only with the intervention of a law enforcement agency.” What a devastating self-exposure of the claims that the US-NATO proxy war is being waged to defend democracy in Ukraine.
The reality is that Ukraine is a fascistic dictatorship, which applies police methods to stop the expression of popular opposition to the policies that have brought untold suffering and death to the people.
The arrest of Bogdan Syrotiuk comes precisely at a point of mounting popular opposition to the Zelensky regime. On May 18, a new and vastly unpopular mobilization law that will vastly expand the recruitment dragnet of Ukrainian military goes into effect. Even the New York Times has expressed doubts about Zelensky’s ability “to find new troops to relieve a weary, often demoralized force.”
In an article posted on the World Socialist Web Site on April 30, Maxim Goldarb, a Ukrainian socialist who has been persecuted by the Zelensky regime, reported: “More and more Ukrainian men are desperately trying to flee the country, unwilling to die for someone else’s selfish purposes.”
He added:

It is not the rich minority, but the poor majority—the unemployed, workers, peasants, teachers, doctors, office workers—that will be sent into the bloody meat grinder. Now, with the adoption of the new law, the number of men deprived of basic human rights, who will be captured and hunted down like animals and sent to the front, will increase many times over.
The profits of those who benefit from this war will also increase many times over … These huge profits will be divided up between the military-industrial complex, its lobbyists in the American and European establishment, and the Ukrainian oligarchic top brass.

Bogdan Syrotiuk’s life is in danger. In the environment of terror that exists within Ukraine, he is deprived of all means to defend himself. Efforts to obtain competent legal representation have been undermined by government threats against defense lawyers. No less than five attorneys have declined to represent Bogdan because to do so would expose them to significant physical danger.
The significance of the fight to defend Bogdan and secure his freedom extends beyond Ukraine. His incarceration is yet another example of the growing international assault on democratic rights as imperialism escalates its military operations throughout the world. The political conspiracy to destroy Julian Assange set into motion a process that is replicated throughout the world.
Those who oppose and expose the crimes of the imperialist regimes are targeted for persecution by the state. The assault on basic democratic rights—first and foremost, freedom of thought and speech—is always justified on the basis of lies.
The opponents of Israel’s genocidal war against Gazans are denounced as anti-Semites, even when the protesters are Jewish. In the denunciation of Bogdan Syrotiuk as an agent of Russia for opposing the proxy war in Ukraine, the same lying method is at work.
The real reason for the arrest and persecution of Bogdan Syrotiuk is that he is fighting for the unity of the Ukrainian, Russian and international working class against the ruling capitalist elites of all countries. As Comrade Andrei Ritsky of the Russian branch of the Young Guard of Bolshevik Leninists explained so eloquently in a speech delivered at the May Day 2024 celebration held by the International Committee:

The only “crime” that Bogdan committed was his conviction that Ukraine can become truly free only through the independent struggle of the Ukrainian working class, acting together with the international working class against imperialism and war. He advanced a principled political position based on a Marxist understanding of the war, opposed to the fanatical worship of Ukrainian nationalism as well as the reactionary Russian nationalism of the Putin regime. Like our entire movement, he has fought for the unification of workers in Russia and Ukraine with the workers in the imperialist countries, to put an end to a fratricidal war that has claimed the lives of at least half a million Ukrainians and tens of thousands of Russians.

He concluded his remarks with a declaration of the fundamental perspective that underlies the work of the Fourth International:

No bourgeois regime is capable of resolving the crisis other than through war and destruction, because any other way would be contrary to its fundamental capitalist interests. The contradictions of capitalism cannot be resolved within national borders and on the basis of a defense of private property. Only the international working class armed with the program of world socialist revolution will be able to put an end to the wars and resolve the fundamental crisis. To do so, however, it must fight for its unity with its brothers and sisters around the world.

The International Committee of the Fourth International calls for a global campaign to demand the immediate release of Bogdan Syrotiuk from prison. The fight for Bogdan’s freedom must be taken up by workers, students and all those who are committed to the defense of democratic rights and opposed to the escalation of imperialist wars that, unless stopped, threaten humanity with a nuclear catastrophe.
Join the fight to Free Bogdan. Circulate this statement as widely as possible on social media. Bring this case to the attention of co-workers, fellow students, and friends. To sign a petition demanding Bogdan’s release, contribute funds toward the defense campaign, and become personally active in the fight for his freedom, go to wsws.org/freebogdan.

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Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

Hi guys! I’m making a character named Phontus and in the history of my world, a bunch of characters have tried to take him down. I want to know if you guys have any characters that you think could defeat him
Sorry if I sound a bit narcissistic, I’m mainly just curious and I want to know what kind of characters could beat. Also, if one of your characters can’t beat Phontus, please include which phase they’d be at.

Description:

Appearance: Phontus is a 4-5 meter tall golem with a similar appearance to an overgrown orc. His bones are made out of incassarite, an unbreakable metal that can only be melted by magic. His skin is made from the hides of multiple Enkoupins, animals with uncuttable skin that can only be pierced.
The insides of his body are filled with distilled liquid magic and catonite. The distilled liquid magic makes it easier for his body to process magic and it also acts as his bodily functions and as his muscles. The catonite gives him other functions that the liquid magic wouldn’t give him. His “heart” is a tatarium (a relic that can seal souls, spirits and even gods) that is filled with hundreds of souls. It is located near his belly.
First Phase: War Pig

Abilities:

• Enhanced durability: Near-invulnerability due to incassarite bones and uncuttable skin.
• Versatile functions from catonite: Enhanced energy regulation and potential abilities like strength, speed, and temporary invisibility.

Strengths:

• Near-invulnerability: Extremely resistant to physical damage.
• Self-sustaining: Souls in the tatarium provide a continuous energy source.
• Versatile combat capabilities: Adaptable in different combat scenarios.

Weaknesses:

• Magic dependency: Vulnerable to anti-magic fields or disruptions.
• Vulnerability to piercing attacks: Critical points like the tatarium can be targeted.
• Soul overload/disruption: Internal chaos if souls within the tatarium are disturbed.
• Low intellect: Since he is a golem and has a tatarium filled with hundreds of souls, his mind is similar to an animal’s.

Second Phase: Elemental Powerhouse
By utilizing the catonite and distilled liquid magic within, he is able to activate the elemental effects of catonite.

Abilities:

• Enhanced elemental manipulation: Mastery over fire, water, wind, and air, creating powerful elemental effects.
• Enhanced physical capabilities: Increased strength and durability.
• Regeneration and self-repair: Rapid healing and absorption of elemental attacks for self-repair.

Strengths:

• Mastery over elements: Dominance in elemental manipulation.
• Regenerative capabilities: Quick recovery from damage.

Weaknesses:

• Tatarium vulnerability: Critical point that can be targeted for disruption.
• Internal chaos: Potential instability from excessive soul energy use.
• Overload risk: Risk of self-damage from overcharging abilities.

Third Phase: True Ignition
By activating the tatarium within his body, he is able to utilize 100% of his inner power.

Abilities:

• Full tatarium activation: Unleashes the full power of the souls, massively boosting all abilities.
• Automatic golem creation: Surrounding area generates autonomous golems that fight for him.
• Enhanced elemental manipulation: Ultimate control over elements, creating large-scale natural disasters.
• Supreme regeneration and resilience: Instantaneous healing and near-total damage resistance.

Strengths:

• Overwhelming presence: Constant generation of golems and elemental domination.
• Ultimate power and resilience: Peak physical and magical prowess.
• Enhanced tactical versatility: Autonomous golems provide strategic advantages.

Weaknesses:

• Over-reliance on the tatarium: Critical vulnerability remains.
• Magic disruption: Anti-magic fields can significantly weaken him.
• Soul instability: Risk of internal conflict from the souls.
• Environmental dependence: Resource depletion could limit sustainability.
• Overload risk: Potential self-damage from using 100% of tatarium's power.

Btw, I’d like for the character to not be a character who can destroy planets whenever they want to. I’d want to hear about characters who are equal to Phontus is strength
Feel free to ask anything about Phontus that I haven’t included!

Hi there,
I’ve been quietly reading on this sub for about a month now, thinking about posting. Finally have a good reason to, I think.
Backstory: I’m 24F. I’m the oldest child - my sister is 18 and my brother is 10. I can’t remember ever having liked my ndad, and we “butted heads” a lot when I was growing up, increasingly about me wanting independence especially when he would promise to do something (that I felt I could do myself) and wouldn’t come back to it for a long time. He wanted control. He was always sensitive about lying. When I was starting my senior year of high school (good grades, committed to extracurriculars, aiming for top schools like Harvard, Stanford, John’s Hopkins), he found out that I was experimenting with drugs and lost it. He went through all my texts, found out I’m queer, saw all the bad stuff I wrote about him, and decided he can’t trust me anymore. He strip searched me, sent me to a psychoanalyst that he wouldn’t listen to anyway, took away a lot of my belongings, set up surveillance cameras around the house, moved me to his office and put a lock on the door and window. A mattress and a notebook to write in. Months of interrogations followed. I was not allowed to close the bathroom door, and later, I was allowed to close, but not lock it. No phone, no seeing friends. I wasn’t allowed to be alone for months. Or to go upstairs. Listen to music. It was real bad. He told me he wanted to break me down and rebuild who I am from scratch… my mom was devastated and was on his side, despite having previously stood up for me now and then.
I was able to apply to my state school ONLY and got in. The deal was that they would pay for it basically and I would help with the family. I was never allowed to have a job, despite wanting to work since high school. The first year of college my mom drove me. They didn’t trust me to take the bus. Partway through the second year, I found the resources at the college to put together a backup plan in case I needed to leave. It did come to a point (ndad found out about it bc I was carrying around a business card in the waistband of my underwear and dropped it in the bathroom one day) and I decided to leave.
I was allowed to leave with the clothes on my back - no shoes, no coat, nothing else except some documents. And even then he didn’t give me my passports (foreign), saying they don’t exist when I named the document (likely I used the name they used, and not the official document name). Had to sign a handwritten paper that said I refuse their help.
Friends helped me get back on my feet and I’m surrounded with loving people now.
The period of severe abuse lasted 2 years and 5 months. I saw a couple friends a couple times throughout. More details take too long to write.
Since then (4 yrs 3 months), I’ve not seen my immediate family. I call my mom more frequently now, that relationship is stable, but she won’t share information with me. I can talk to her about my life. Have only been able to talk to my sister 2 times over the phone - her last 2 birthdays. Talking to dad never ends well. Last time I tried to call and talk to my sister he wouldn’t let me.
I found out what school she goes to and found out when her graduation is by the powers of the internet. I want to go - to see her and show up for her. I’m debating if I want her to see me or not. And I’m worried about running into ndad. I had a stress dream about it last night. I’m both scared that she won’t want to see me and I’m scared of making things bad for her. To the extent of my knowledge, she may be going out of state for school (know that through a family friend). We were rather different kids growing up and idk how she feels.
Should I go incognito? Or call attention to myself?
(Also wanna write a memoir one day if I ever get the time.)

title. 20F, and i honestly don't think i ever formed a healthy self-image. i attended a K-12 school with a small student population and a severe endemic bullying problem so the same 15 individuals i met as a toddler were the classmates alongside whom i graduated high school. my school was actually known throughout the surrounding area for having a bullying issue and i got dealt a pretty bad hand in those terms. bullying and social exclusion followed me from kindergarten all the way up to high school. my only friends were my cousins up until sixth grade. i know this by itself doesn't sound all that bad but feeling like an alien and an outsider as a six-year-old girl messes you up. i wasn't a "quiet" or "weird" kid or anything like that- just literally a normal young girl- but a lot of the other kids in my grade just came in with these vicious, catty personalities which didn't mesh well with the sunshiney, always-assuming-the-best-in-people attitude i had as a young child. my parents were also working class and i didn't always have the trendiest items/wasn't "hip" to what was popular and that certainly didn't help. i never really formed any sort of self-image during those formative childhood years because all that time was just spent feeling awful about myself and trying to figure out what i had to do to earn acceptance. my most formative memory is just spending years and years trying to figure out why i couldn't be accepted by the other kids in my grade and trying absolutely everything to no avail. additionally, i wasn't exactly able to build a strong self-image at home because my father was largely emotionally absent and hypercritical. (he was never abusive in the slightest, but was just very rigid, not emotionally involved, would criticize every single thing etc). i internalized a lot of those criticisms and still have an incredibly overactive hypercritical voice. then when i was 11 i got involved with an excessively-competitive intensive sport which involved adult male coaches who (as i now recognize) were incredibly abusive. think those eastern european gymnastics coaches in the 50s. i was training 30-35 hours a week by the time i was 13 and my life resembled an Olympic training regimen. because i already was so incredibly weak in self-esteem i internalized and accepted all of the abuse from the coaches while other children told their parents and were removed from the environment. i felt like this sport was a place where i could be competitive, included and treated like a mature adult- a break from the constant exclusion i was experiencing from my peers at school. i couldn't figure out how to quit because the coaches' validation (which was few and far between) had become the only thing remotely resembling a self-image i had. i couldn't relate to any of my peers or the few friends i did have because i didn't have a normal teenage life where i could go to the mall or hang out with friends; all of my waking moments involved crippling anxiety due to these adult men who i spent the majority of my time around. they screamed at, insulted, threw things at, and took delight in physically hurting the young children involved in the sport. i felt like i didn't own or control my life and i had a sense of being completely isolated because i didn't know how to get out of or even define the situation. i finally left at 15 (in the middle of my freshman year of high school) and within a month of leaving developed some sort of mental health/trauma response (which i am still unable to identify because i never got any sort of psychological help due to being afraid of seeming "weak"). i started having regular anxiety attacks (something which i had never experienced before), throwing up daily, having nightmares and losing my hair. growing up although i was always insecure i had never dealt with any mental health issues and i am neurotypical so this was all absolutely new for me. the fact that this was something i had never felt before all arising so abruptly at once- seemingly overnight- made the experience scary and unfamiliar, and i felt like i was losing my control of my mind and body at 15, right when teens are meant to be naturally growing into and forming healthy relationships with their bodies. it was around this time when the usual teenage drama of high school really took off and due to the mental health issues i had begun to experience i found myself involved in typical teen drama which led to me losing my entire friend group multiple times over. my high school years were full of painful drama, friendship breakups and a plethora of unhealthy actions which i now recognize as desperate efforts to regain some sort of sense of control over my life and self-image. i got rejected from my dream ivy league university which i had wanted to attend since i was a child (the university where my father works) because my grades had dropped after my experience in the sport- not a lot, but just enough to remove me from the ivy league range. i enrolled in my state university and entered my first relationship which swiftly ended due to my baggage from childhood/the fact that my insecurities made me unable to accept the fact that someone genuinely liked me. i got my life together (in some sense) in college and now am an honors program + dean's list student on a pre-law track, set to graduate with phi beta kappa and magna cum laude distinctions as well as a near-perfect gpa and membership in a national honors society for my area of study. i still have absolutely zero self-esteem or even any idea of what it feels like to have a healthy relationship with myself. my opinion of myself (physical appearance, personality etc) is so negative and distorted that i have absolutely no idea what i look like or how people perceive me. i have been told that i am attractive but i honest-to-God just don't know. i criticize myself brutally for every decision i make and i can't go a day without comparing myself to other people. nobody knows that my self-esteem is so awful because i seem on the surface to "have it all together". i don't want to go to therapy or counseling because i feel like my parents would see me as weak or incompetent and even if they didn't i know that i would see myself that way. the mental health issues i dealt with in my teen years are (for the majority) gone now but only because i've had to develop my own coping mechanisms (some healthy, others not so much) and most of it has just come down to toughing it out and pushing it all down inside. i have this weird overachiever complex where i purposefully will put myself in painful/uncomfortable/excessively difficult situations in order to "prove" that i can overcome them and feel like i'm proud of myself/have accomplished something, if that makes sense. i'll stay awake 72 hours consecutively studying for an exam and skip meals just to score the highest in the class on zero hours of sleep and an empty stomach and the more uncomfortable/unpleasant it is the better i end up feeling because it seems like i've accomplished something/like i'm being "disciplined". everyone just thinks that i'm an overachievereally good student and so i feel like if i actually did tell someone about how bad i feel on a daily basis i'd be dismissed with "but you have it all together!!" etc etc. idk how to fix this or if it even can be fixed but i would appreciate some sort of advice. i want to be able to just enjoy my life.

I decided to start a more "lore based" run, setting restrictions on myself on what kind of colonists i get and how i treat certain outsiders
Basically i am not allowed to host any "flesh based" colonists (i'm playing with the Persona Mechanoid Mod). However, slaves are 100% fairgame
explain to me, like i'm 5, what i need to do for slaves. Do i need to keep them contained in a space? can they be allowed to run around the colony freely? Do they breed as if they were normal colonists? I know there's "slave expectations" but what does this actually mean? will they simply not revolt so long as i keep their mood above a certain threshold? what actually affects their mood when they're slaves?
This is where the actual questions end
For those curious enough: I made my own scenario where i start with the "persona mechanoids" research (along with it's dependencies sadly, so i do also start with standard mechtech) 4 persona mechanoids, some steel and weapons and 2 bioelectric rechargers (for those who don't know, these charge bioelectric cells, which the persona mechanoids consume as "food"). The lore is that these mechanoids were sent as a "colonization squad" tasked to evaluate the rimworld on richness in resources, civilization, habitability etc. While the mechs themselves cannot allow regular fleshbags to join them, as this could potentially slow down their mission, throw away labor in the form of slaves is advised. Establishing friendly relations with any locals is not required, but could prove usefull, granted these locals are sufficiently technologically advanced (aka, tribals are a big no no) Reasons lore wise that flesh based colonists are discouraged: - Persona Mechs don't need sleep, only some downtime every so often - Persona Mechs don't require food, so no extensive food production is needed aside from any temporary colonists (think via quests and the like), prisoners and slaves (the latter two will of course get nutrient paste) - Persona Mechs don't need medics as they require the same care as regular mechanoids (in other words, they get repaired via the smithing job instead of medical
Reasons lore wise to only garner relations with technologically advanced civilizations:

• The "end goal" is to establish this planet as a brand new "hub planet" for interstellar travel, ridding it of primitives, reforming or eradicating pirates and other outlaws
• Primitives would lack the intelligence to comprehend living machines, especially after having encountered regular mechanoids, they would naturally be hostile (sadly idk if you can actually play around with the faction relations like that)
• Relations with technologically advanced civilizations like the Empire mean a decent supply of steel, components, advanced components, etc. Boosting mission efficiency by reducing the need to create said items themselves

Why are slaves allowed? - Minimal medical care - Minimal food requirements - Easily replaceable, unlike proper colonists - Free organs

• Previous posts, since the bulleted list was getting super unwieldy.

Around 34 million Earth years ago, at the end of the very creatively named 18th Era, the boreal and polar regions including the Great Polar Plateau, where Kyanah would eventually evolve, and its surroundings, were a very different place. The climate was at the time cooler and drier than the modern Homeworld, and the plateau was filled with more open boreal savannas and polar barrens rather than the dense scrublands of modern times. These boreal savannas were quite different from the modern ones, as endoskeleton plants had yet to expand in the northern hemisphere beyond the tropics, and single-leaf crawlers (which would go extinct at the end of the era) dominated over the modern multi-leaf crawlers to form the ground cover, the equivalent of Terran grass. The most common Walkers (i.e. tetrapods) on the plateau in the late 18th Era were small to medium-sized grazers, many of which had heavy armor or glands to secrete poisonous substances, as a defense against the top predators of the day. There were also the Kakenkortiors, the ancestors of modern Kyanah and dozens of other species, as well as other carnivore groups that specialized in oasis environments, pursuing the amphibious neuz or small burrowing herbivores. The Kakenkortiors were solitary quadrupedal carnivores roughly the size of small to medium-sized dogs, which were opportunistic carnivores taking on all manner of small prey when they had the chance, but primarily subsisted on scavenging carrion or stealing eggs, and had scaly skin covered in a dense coating of feathers to keep them warm and provide camouflage; notably they had yet to evolve the pack behaviors seen in some of their descendants. However, they themselves often fell victim to the true predators of the time--not true Walkers, but rather an offshoot of the wingbeasts (themselves marsupial creatures with foldable wings that could fly like gliders or walk on all fours on land)--the terrorbeasts. These terrorbeasts gave up their flight in exchange for reaching enormous sizes--almost a ton and 4 meters tall for the largest species--adopting a permanently quadrupedal and rather uncanny stance, with their forelimbs (formerly wings) being much longer than their rear limbs, while the wings themselves lost the ability to unfold, instead becoming vestigial forelimb frills used for attracting mates. Some terrorbeasts used their height to feed from the tops of exoskeleton plants, but many were carnivorous, developing long necks and elongated, hardened spear-like snouts to peck at grazers from above; it's believed that they sometimes reared up on their hind legs to gain additional height and force. This was in direct contrast with every extant tetrapodal predator of large game, which would prioritize either attacking from below or else taking out their prey's legs to bring them crashing down; as a result most herbivores had the heaviest protection on their bellies and legs, with their backs being comparatively weak. But then again, most creatures on the Kyanah homeworld, both extinct and extent, tend to be wide and low to the ground due to living under 1.4G, not tall and spindly, so the terrorbeasts were a giant middle finger to the biosphere and planet in general. Though their 50 million Earth year reign was cut short by the meteor shower that formed the Homeworld's newest impact range, created the Shatter, and caused the most recent mass extinction, leading to the beginning of the 19th Era.
With the terrorbeasts gone (though not their relatives, the normal, flying wingbeasts), the early 19th Era saw the creatures of the Great Polar Plateau adapt to the changing landscape. A group of species which had evolved thorn-covered backs--essentially made from modified feathers--to protect themselves from the terrorbeasts, also went extinct, and many of the remaining grazers lost their heavy armor due to the sudden dearth of megacarnivores to necessitate it. The Kakenkortiors survived the mass extinction and continued to occupy their old niches, but by around 29-28 million years ago, one branch, known as the Tyorketforms, would shift to a more actively predatory niche, using enlarged dew claws to slash the tendons of prey to drop them to the ground; this branch would eventually lead to the domestic Tyorkets, common Kyanah pets in the modern era. Meanwhile, climatic shifts at the start of the mid 19th Era would lead to the Great Polar Plateau becoming warmer and wetter; the boreal savannas would give way to denser boreal scrublands. Through both speciation and migration, the smaller, armored grazers would be displaced by large unarmored browsers eating leaves and twigs and growing to much bigger sizes in the comparatively plant-dense nutrient-rich environment.
It was only natural that something would evolve to hunt these new browsers. Oddly enough, it would be the Kakenkortiors. The main line would go extinct around 9 million years ago, but long before that, they would produce one more notable sideline, the Ratoryinut, starting around 25 million years ago. Many of the early Ratoryinut would be much larger than both early Kakenkortiors and modern Kyanah, reaching average masses of 150-300 kilograms, depending on the species. Compared to early Kakenkortiors, they had a higher and proportionally slightly narrower, though still relatively broad, profile, with bulkier forelimbs and more dexterous forelimbs--an intermediate stage in developing opposable thumbs--with non-retractable claws, as well as losing their feather coating entirely. By 20-18 million years ago, the Ratoryinut would further split into the Ratorkortyot-forms and the ancestors of the Kyanahforms. The Ratorkortyot-forms (roughly "strong herald beast") would continue to grow in size, with the largest species reaching up to 500 kilograms by 10 million years ago, somewhat resembling large, reptilian bear-like forms with bare, greenish-brown scaly skin. They would also evolve a Parasaurolophus-like crest, which they would use to make loud and elaborate trumpeting noises to attract mates or scare rivals away from a kill, and, as the climate cooled in the mid-late 19th Era and they gravitated towards the poles, many evolved blubber deposits to replace the insulating role of their ancestors' feathers. Ratorkortyot-forms, including the eponymous Ratorkortyot, the most famous species, are still extant and where their ranges overlapped with prehistoric Kyanah, appear to have occasionally killed and eaten packless or young individuals, though the reverse was more common. Most Ratorkortyot-forms are now threatened by habitat destruction and pollution.
As for the Kyanahforms themselves, they took the opposite approach to hunting the soft browsing herbivores that were spreading throughout the boreal scrublands. They began steadily losing raw mass, but underwent a quantum leap in intelligence, with six-core brains rather than the four-core brains of most Walkers; the only other animals with six-core brains, before or since, were a few one-off species of social wingbeasts. Not coincidentally, the modern pack dynamics of modern Kyanah also emerged with early Kyanahforms by around 15 million years ago, with 4-6 adults bonding together for life, having children with each other, and cooperatively raising them to adulthood. It's believed that this pack dynamic evolved from simpler serial pair-bonding in Ratoryinuts and the earliest proto-Kyanahforms as a result of six-core brains enabling more complex social behavior, allowing such relationships to be stable. It also enabled reliable tool using and eventually tool manufacturing (modifying found objects to further enhance their utility), as the Kyanahforms were capable of bipedal movement--though early Kyanah forms still spent most of their time on four legs--and had developed opposable thumbs.
While one minor side-line, the arboreal Kyanahforms, continued to shrink further, taking up omnivorous behavior and living in the taller, shrub-like exoskeleton plant species, the main line continued to gradually optimize for attacking in packs and killing medium-large game on the ground. During the mid-late 19th Era cooling, they would take on migratory behavior, moving to the edge of the Great Polar Plateau in the winter to take advantage of the milder winds from the south, and back north in the summer to hunt the big-ticket game animals further into the plateau. The main line would eventually evolve into tkorks, the closest living relatives of Kyanah, who have been discussed elsewhere. The side-line that would become the true Kyanah diverged from tkorks around 5-6 million years ago, shortly after the evolution of the Tyotonikors (perhaps "strong leaf beast"). These were basically the final, logical conclusion of the trend of large generalist browsers, relying on raw mass rather than armor or numbers to deter predators; it was one of these species that would eventually become the domestic nyruds that are so important to the Kyanah. The largest species, the Tyotonikor, could reach heights of 1.8 meters, with a length of 7.6 meters and males averaging around 4-5 tons--one of the largest known animals in the history of the Kyanah homeworld, and the largest period since the 16th or 17th Era; it was hunted to extinction by prehistoric Kyanah around 8000 years ago. While other related species were not as large, even the smallest averaged 1.5 tons, 3 times bigger than the biggest carnivores in the Great Polar Plateau. With a long, whip-like tail, a wide and stocky frame, and a sturdy beak-like mouth capable of handling even the toughest leaves and twigs, the species under the Tyotonikor classification were quite formidable. Indeed, healthy adults had no natural predators...until the true Kyanah came along.
If it seems like Kyanah were optimized specifically to hunt and kill the giant Tyotonikors that no one else dared eat...well, they were. They shifted from a merely bipedal-capable form to obligate bipeds, enabling them to see over interfering shrubbery to better devise a plan of attack, and also be able to hold tools and weapons at all times. To maintain balance in a bipedal posture, their tails became longer and bulkier, enabling them to flail them around to keep balance, and also use them as a weapon. While their jaw size--and thus snout size--and bite force increased relative to predecessors to better penetrate the thick skin of Tyotonikors, their claws became somewhat shorter and stubbier, optimized more for gripping than piercing, making it easier to hold the sticks and rocks they were increasingly using as force multipliers. An increase in fast-twitch muscles in their legs enabled them to more easily catch fleeing Tyotonikors--which, despite their bulk, could be surprisingly fast, rather like Terran elephants, able to reach speeds above 30 kilometers per hour. The strong legs and gripping claws also made it more feasible to get onto the creatures and deliver devastating top attacks. Their skulls also broadened significantly to enable increased cranial capacity, which enabled them to form even more complex pack hunting strategies and even cooperate with other packs to take down especially large and dangerous prey; this would be a game changer, as tkorks and earlier Kyanahforms would almost always ignore or fight other packs instead of working together. Compared to the tkorks, true Kyanah are basically high-performance, high-maintenance creatures, relying on intelligently applying explosive bursts of strength and speed to quickly take down big-ticket prey, rather than stamina, low resource usage, and gradually accumulating smaller prey items. While having primarily evolved to fill the empty niche of preying on Tyotonikors, the various Kyanah species were more than capable of hunting any medium to large animal, both on and off the Great Polar Plateau, using their sophisticated tactics, high physical strength, and eventually primitive spears, axes, traps, and controlled use of fire. Meanwhile, most tkork species in modern times are endangered or extinct, except for those that have adapted to living in Kyanah cities and feeding off various urban critters and meat that has been thrown out or left unattended by the Kyanah themselves. Those tkork species have done very well for themselves, to the point of being a pest.
Proto-Kyanah would speciate several times, gradually expanding around the edges of the Great Northern Plateau by around 1 million years ago, with some species expanding to the poles and also to the more temperate latitudes by 750k years ago, though modern, main-line Kyanah did not spread off the Great Polar Plateau until around 100k years ago. Remains of the most far-flung Kyanah species, the Dunewalkers, have been discovered from the Shatter to the Western Sector, though they went extinct 84k years ago after the asteroid impact that created the Ikun Crater, which also reduced the main-line Kyanah population to a few thousand, though they, obviously, bounced back and then some. None of these other species remain; the last to go were the Kyanah Brutes, so-named because of their large stature (roughly on par with humans) and proportionally smaller brains compared to main-line Kyanah, dying out around 5500 years ago; it is possible that there were organized efforts by Kyanah proto-civilizations to eradicate the last of them, but also just as possible that the main-line Kyanah merely hunted their prey into extinction. Notably, main-line Kyanah have the largest cranial capacity of any of these species, with Dunewalkers being a close second; there is no evidence that any Kyanah species other than *the* Kyanah ever devised fully fledged language on their own, which made cooperation between multiple packs more frequent and reliable, and made teaching their young more efficient. The presence of bones from multiple species being found together indicates that main-line Kyanah occasionally included members of a couple of the more advanced Kyanah species, like Dunewalkers and Kyanah Brutes, into their own packs, and vice versa. While these species lack the genes associated with independently inventing complex languages, it's believed to be possible that they could be taught it to a limited degree, as they had similar vocalization structures, and even tkorks can be taught to understand simple words and phrases. The exact nature of this relationship, whether these other species were viewed as working animals, slaves, or fellow packmates, is unknown. While they likely interbred, it is also unknown if this led to fertile offspring--but probably not.