FYI: I've already read all of the countless "which suburb(s) are the best" posts, just wanted to gather people's thoughts on something a little different.
Pros and cons of living in inner Geelong vs somewhere on the Bellarine? My partner (25m) and I (25m) live at his dad's property in Wallington and I love it out here. Huge house (great for hosting parties or for having multiple people crash for the night), lots of space, close to the beach and nature, and close enough to Geelong, Melbourne and Torquay.
I'm originally from Melbourne and I really enjoy the friendly community vibe around here and the slower pace of life. However, the biggest downside for me is poor walkability. I miss living within walking distance of a decent set of shops and not having to drive everywhere.
If my partner and I were to move into our own place together in the greater Geelong area, would we be better off going further in towards town or could we pretty much retain a similar sort of lifestyle to "in-towners" living out this way? I feel like I haven't gotten to properly appreciate living "in Geelong" since moving here (partner WFH, I work in Leopold, uni in WP, most of our friends in Melb).
We're not looking to move out for another year at the earliest (i.e. after me graduating and completing my studies) and realistically, we wouldn't have anything logistically tying us down to any particular area (this is mainly to satisfy my own curiosity).

• My ideal Geelong location: somewhere within walking distance of a decent set of shops and/or a train station (e.g. Rippleside (awesome set of shops across from Nth Geelong station); area between Sth Geelong station and East Geelong (Garden St/Ormond Rd) shops; Newtown between Pako and Sth Geelong; Geelong West b/w Pako and Geelong station).
• Ideal Bellarine location: walking distance to Leopold shopping centre, or Ocean Grove or Barwon Heads shops. Being along a bus line would be a nice little bonus (definitely not a dealbreaker as I grew up in a bus-reliant area, which sucked ass).

Calling all those who grew up on the Bellarine and moved out closer towards Geelong: What are the main big differences in your day-to-day life? Do you prefer living in Geelong or would you move back to the Bellarine if given the opportunity? For anyone who's moved from Geelong (or Melb) to the Bellarine, why?

We’re planning a DisneyWorld trip with a 4 YO and triplet 18 month olds. I’m not sure what we’ll do with stroller(s) yet because we can’t take our wagon, but I’m also trying to figure out where to stay.
We currently have Riviera booked (our home resort - we’re DVC owners) which would mean we have the Skyliner for Epcot & HS, and a car ride to MK & AK. (I have no desire to do the bus with 4 littles)
We could also switch to Contemporary for walking/monorail access to MK and monorail to Epcot. Then car rides to HS & AK.
I feel like this is a strong option because it seems that we’ll be more likely to spend time at MK than other parks. But husband is concerned about waiting in line for the monorail (the Skyliner has really spoiled us) and then trying to cram a triple or two double strollers on. I just don’t know what’s going to be best logistically.
I’m concerned that the triplets will need to go back to the room for naps, while the 4 YO will want to stay out, so there could be a lot of splitting up (which isn’t ideal if we are, say, driving to MK). We like to be generally flexible and follow their cues, so I won’t have some grand plan for each day and we also aren’t the rope drop to fireworks kind of folks.
Anyone have ideas or opinions? I haven’t really considered any other resorts, to be honest. We could stay at any DVC resort theoretically, assuming availability when our 7-month window arrives.
(And yes, I know we’re nuts.)

The Thunder have a good team that might get better over the next few years, but I’m a hater and so here’s why I don’t think they’ll win a chip.
SGA probably isn’t that guy. He’s a superstar, but can he really be the guy on a championship team? He has the 11th best DPM in the league, for instance. There are a lot of stats out there, so you could probably make an argument that he’s better than that.
But you better have a good argument, because here are the bus drivers of the last 15 championship teams.
Lebron James x4
Kobe Bryant x2
Steph Curry x2
Kevin Durant x2
Tim Duncan
Dirk Nowitzski
Kawhi Leonard
Giannis Antetokounmpo
Nikola Jokic
Is SGA more of a Kobe Bryant / Steph Curry or a Kyrie Irving / Kemba Walker type of lead guard? In case that isn’t obvious, here are the careers of Kyrie, Kemba, and SGA by DPM
Chet Holmgren probably isn’t getting much better. Yeah, he’s young, and yeah, he’s already good, but bigs who are good tend to be good early because rim protecting defense peaks early. If you’re a fan, you’d probably comp Chet to Anthony Davis or Karl Towns, both of whom have gotten a bit better over time (but neither have become that guy). If you're more of a hater, you’ll search for more injury prone comps because AD was playing full seasons at the age Chet was shelved for a season because of an injury in a pro-am game.
They have a lot of good role players but they won’t be able to keep many of them. OKC had a great regular season because they were the deepest team in the league. But Aaron Wiggins, Isaiah Joe, and Giddey will get paid after next year. Chet and J-Dub will be the year after. Ownership doesn’t like paying a bunch of tax, so the team will need to make some choices.
The problem is that a lot of their guys hover around the Jaylen Brown line. By that I mean players who sign for close to a max rookie extension without really being worth their salary, and then by the time they improve enough to be worth their salary, they're ready to sign a third contract and they’re overpaid all over again. If you ever wonder who’s at the Jaylen Brown line, just log onto nba the first game into a rookie extension and you’ll see something like 1 Game Into 4 yea$$$$$$$$$ Extension, 1/9 from the field 9 turnovers, 2/4 from the line.
You can fit a couple of Jaylen Brown line players onto a contender, but not a whole army of them or you’ll run out of money quickly.
They could make a free agent splash. They only have about $20 million to work this offseason, which will probably be their last below-the-cap season in a while before their Jaylen Brown line players start getting paid. Maybe they could sign Tobias Harris this offseason while they still can.
But they can just trade for a new superstar to be the guy. I would say I wish, but I’m a hater so I’m happy with things the way they are, which is that SGA is going to be the best player on the Thunder for a long time. The problem with the trade-for-a-superstar line of thinking is that 1) superstars very rarely switch teams, 2) OKC’s treasure trove of picks is overrated, and 3) players, not picks, get deals for superstars done (Mikal Bridges, Brandon Ingram, …).
If you disagree with #1, who’s the superstar? Joel Embiid when he asks out, after matching $53 million in salary and trading away the treasure trove? If you disagree with #2, where are the picks actually going to land. Unprotected 1sts sound nice, but how many will actually end up being top 5? 1 or 2, if the team gets lucky? What OKC does have is a lot of future 20s type picks that are in that sour spot where the player will sit around earning guaranteed money and eating a roster spot until they’re up for extension. You know which team actually has excellent future draft capital? The Pistons.
The team has unprecedented youth and future assets. Not even close, that would be the KD/Westbrook/Harden/Ibaka OKC team, back when Sam Presti used to hit on his draft picks.

I recently traveled with a cardboard bike box through Montreal Airport (YUL) with Air Canada. It was my first time doing so and I had a few doubts beforehand. So I thought I'd share my experience here in case it could help others looking for information, as I've seen people discussing this subject here.
Where to get the box?
Any bike shop: -possibly the cheapest but also the most unreliable and time consuming -might need to call multiple shops, sometimes inconveniently located
CL Cycle (35$) -two bike shops in the Plateau Mont-Royal neighborhood, both about 1km away from a metro station -apparently sell cardboard bike boxes for 35$, sometimes show as out of stock online
Gare d’autocars de Montréal (17.25$) -Montreal’s bus station, situated downtown at Berri-UQAM metro station (easily reached by bike from central neighborhoods or by metro which accepts bikes outside of weekdays peak hours) -the option I went for as it's both affordable and convenient -sells bike boxes for 17.25$ through Expedibus shipping service -just ask for a bike box at the main bus ticket counter, no need to reserve in advance, they should pretty much always have them in stock, they also provide tape -I couldn't measure the box but it was not super long, I removed the front wheel and handlebar of my rigid 29er MTB (with an admittedly long wheelbase) and it just barely fit, some people may need to remove both wheels -there is one hole on each side to use as handle, but they're fragile, using them to lift the bike caused as significant tear in the cardboard that I had to patch -there’s usually plenty of space inside the bus station to work on your bike and pack it -while there are often colorful characters hanging around the bus station, Montreal is a safe place, but still keep an eye on your valuables -from the bus station there are regular city buses going to the airport (STM 747 line) which accept bikes and cost 11$
Montreal Airport - Safe Bag (70$) -two kiosks at the airport, opening hours from early morning to evening -over the phone they told me they sold cardboard bike boxes for 70$ each (which seems outrageous), and that they always have some available (no surprise) -while the airport is easily reachable by bike, it's a much longer bike ride than to the Gare d’autocars for people staying or living closer to downtown, a long bike ride that you might want to avoid before a long flight if the weather is rainy or super hot
How to get to the airport?
747 bus from the Gare d’autocars to the airport (11$) -costs 11$ which you can buy in person at the bus station counter when you buy your bike box, can also be bought anywhere else that sells STM tickets including the apps Chrono and Transit, can buy it as L’Occasionnelle which works as 24h day pass for public transit on Montreal Island including the airport bus -can pay cash in the bus with coins only and the bus driver does not provide change -the bus line runs 24h/7, multiple times per hour during the day and at least every hour at night -leaves directly from gate 15 inside the Gare d’autocars, and then makes a few stops downtown before taking the highway to the airport -should take 50min to an hour to get the airport depending on traffic, construction, and, more importantly, confused passengers not knowing how to pay their ticket -the bus accepts boxed bikes as explicitly cited by their website, but the racks are too small, you'll have to keep your box upright along the folding seats of the area reserved for handicapped people :( -see STM website for more up-to-date info
How to fly with a bike with Air Canada
Fixed 50$ fee no matter the destination -you do NOT need to have a checked baggage included in your fare (for example, you can buy the cheapest economy fare type without any checked baggage, you will only have to pay 50$ for the bike, and not 50$ + whatever is the price for one checked baggage) -before buying your flight you can call this number to see if there is room available for your bike box on a specific flight: 18882472262 -after buying your ticket, call the same number to tell them to reserve a place for your bike, if by bad luck there's no room you can always get a refund within 24h of buying your ticket -do your online check-in, available the day before your flight, indicate that you will be traveling with one bike and pay the 50$ fee -once at the airport go to an Air Canada self check-in kiosk, click on the baggage options (I think it was called “modify baggage” even if you won't be modifying it), it should show you’re traveling with a bike, click to continue and it’ll print stickers for your bike box -go to the oversized luggage area, they’ll ask you to open the box for them to check it and then they'll give you tape to close it
Open to hearing your experiences.
*All prices in Canadian dollars
TLDR: Simplest reliable and affordable way to travel with a cardboard bike box to YUL is imo: -bike/metro to Gare d’autocars -buy 17.25$ bike box there -take 11$ 747 bus to YUL -pay airline specific bike fee (50$ with Air Canada, no extra fee)

I say "apparently" because... well... you'll see.
This happened decades ago now, back in primary school. I only remembered it because I was recently catching up with old friends from back then, and we got to laughing over old stories and then someone mentioned, "The wildest was when you organised that whole protest against our teacher."
"The time I did what?"
The consensus was I did, indeed, organise the entire class to rebel against our teacher that resulted in her being deposed and our class getting a "substitute" for the rest of the year. I almost fell out of my chair hearing this story from their mouths. It wasn't that I didn't remember it, of course I did--that year was awful. It was just that it existed very differently in my memory.
Two important pieces of background knowledge to understand here:

1. I went to a very very small, very very rural school. How small? Each classroom was composed of the entire year level, and the largest had at most 30 kids in them. My class/year level was on the smallest in the entire school, with a piddling 14 kids in it altogether. While we still had our cliques and factions, our small size caused our class to be very tight knit and protective of each other. How rural? The school building itself was incredibly small, but one thing we were not short on was gigantic empty fields surrounding us on all sides. Great for sports, great for (it turns out) student protests.
2. I was, at the time, undiagnosed autistic. I mean I still am autistic, I'm just formally diagnosed now. But back then I was just seen as being a very quirky kid. One of the ways this quirkiness manifested was that I really had trouble adapting to the rules and structure of grade school and how it differed from what I was used to. At home if I wanted to pee, I just went to the toilet. Now I have to put my hand up? Now I have to ask permission to piss? Then I went home and put my hand up to ask my mom for permission to pee and she told me I didn't need to! Madness! Chaos! I don't care what the rules are, please just be consistent!

But one of the main parts of my brain and the way it works is that sometimes my brain, separate from my will, would just make a decision about a course of action and I would very calmly commit to it come hell or high water. Like, it is vitally important that I stay true to this course of action. I can't explain it. It's like I set a rule for myself and if something disrupts that, I just shut down and stop functioning.
So when the school said, "Okay, when this bell rings during recess/lunch, that means you have to leave the playground and go back to class", I was a confused child already struggling with all these completely nonsensical limitations and guidelines imposed on me. So when that bell rang, I got that calm little voice in my head that said, "Hmm, no, I'm good out here actually. I don't think I will go back into class." So I would just continue to sit out on the playground, playing with my plastic spider toys or sitting on the swing. Teachers would realise what was going on and come out to get me and tell me I have to go back to class, and I would just very calmly hear them out and then smile at them and politely as possible tell them, "No thank you, I want to stay out here."
They really didn't know what to do with me. I wasn't getting upset, I wasn't throwing a tantrum, I wasn't yelling, I wasn't being rude in any way. I was incredibly docile and would let them explain things to me with endless patience and then just politely refute them and go back to what I was doing, like this was just a very normal and reasonable negotiation between two equal parties. I have memories of sitting on the swing while three very confused and flustered adult staff huddled around me trying to bribe me with candy to go back to class. It would take a whole lesson block to lure me back to the classroom, and then at lunch the whole thing would start over again. It took me three years at school to finally accept the status quo thanks to a religious nutter I got for a teacher, and finally went back to class when the bell rang (was never happy about it though).
I eventually settled into school life. Excelled at subjects I liked, at least passed subjects I didn't, followed the rules, was seen as intelligent and obedient and was often liked by my teachers. Until my final year, when we got the teacher I can only rudely monniker Mrs Bigmouth.
Mrs Bigmouth should not have been a teacher. She had a trigger temper and would explode into long, verbally abusive tirades against us if we ever did anything she felt was disrespectful behaviour. What was disrespectful behaviour? Damned if I know. It changed day by day, depending on mood. You could disrespect her to her face one day and she'd laugh and say you have such razor wit, and politely ask a question the next and she'd scream at you for ten nonstop minutes then give you a week of DT for talking back. The absolute peak moment of her boiling temper came when she threw a dictionary at a girl's head because she was whispering to me in class. When I tell you it missed her by half an inch...
But believe it or not, this wasn't what made her such an awful teacher. It was so hard to get teachers at rural schools back then, there was almost nothing you could do to get fired, so we had experience with teachers with nightmare tempers. What made her such an issue was her big mouth. She used us, her trapped audience, as free therapy. She would infodump, traumadump, about her very personal, very private life to us. All day. She'd be two words into a spelling list and launch into an extended story session about her marital issues with her husband. We'd be heads down doing fractions and, unprompted, she'd declare to the class that her adult daughter no longer talks to her and then diatribe to us about it until the bell rang. She had money issues, a contentious relationship with her parents, her marriage was on the rocks. She once pulled me aside after school and spoke with me, at length, about how she was thinking of having another child to try to repair her marriage. I was like, okay lady, I'm 11, about to miss my bus, and my house is a 4 hour walk on foot from here.
We weren't learning. We'd hadn't had a complete lesson since the first week of the school year. We were behind on the cirriculum and frustrated. One kid had brought a stopwatch into school and would time lessons vs her monologues and kept detailed lists, and we would come to school each morning and do betting pools on them. What subject would she interrupt, what would she talk about, and how long would it go.
But all that still wasn't the breaking point if you can believe it. No! Still not! The problem was it wasn't just her own private life she couldn't keep her mouth shut about. It was everyone else's. Because parents would make the reasonable assumption that she should be told things as our class teacher that would be important to know, and that she would understand these things were said in confidence. Instead she would veer randomly off in the middle of talking to us about her horrible weekend to let us know whatever private or traumatic thing was going on in a classmate's life that she had been made aware of. That was awful. That was what made that year hell. It wasn't even about when my secrets were shared with the entire class against my consent. It was watching the faces of my small, lovely, supportive class of 11 year old children go pale and scrunch up with held-back tears as things they never wanted to share were announced like morning news. God we hated her.
Then one day that voice came. The one I hadn't heard in years. The bell ring to go back into class and that voice said, "But I don't want to be in that classroom. I'm not even being taught there." So I just... didn't. I didn't go back to class. I just sat in the playground in a daze eating grass (don't eat grass, it's not good for your teeth). Despite how small my class was, I don't think Mrs Bigmouth even noticed I wasn't there. Others did though. Come lunch and everyone came out, my friends asked me where I was and I said, "Oh, I didn't go back to class."
"Why didn't you go back to class?"
"Why would I go back to class?"
Lightbulb moment for my schoolmates. Yeah, why would they go back to class? What was the point? From a practical standpoint, they weren't learning. From an emotional standpoint, it was horrible to be there. A friend who had had her family's dirty laundry aired to the entire class just last week, things even she didn't know because her parents tried to keep it from her, asked if she could sit with me rather than go back to class. I just stared at her, vacant and confused.
"Sure? I mean, I'm just eating grass though."
Over the next few days, two kids turned into four, turned into ten, turned into the whole class. The whole class was doing a sit-out protest on the field rather than go back to class. Of course Mrs Bigmouth tried to do something about it. She'd come out, screaming at us and threatening us with DT and internal suspension, but six months of that behaviour had totally vaccinated us against her. I'd become the de facto leader and spokesperson of the protest by merit of being the first to sit out and also because I was well known to not give a shit (autistic brain: I actually just frequently had trouble reading and reacting with the correct social behaviour but it gave me a cool and aloof bad boy mystique I guess). I gave her the exact same treatment from back in grade one. I would let her scream, let her holler, let her threaten, let her spittle rain down on me, and then I would give her a sweet and innocent smile and nod in acknowledgement and say, "No thank you, we're going to remain out here." And thirteen pairs of eyes would stare at her in total silence. No one, not even the most gobbermouthed little shite in the class, would volunteer a word. The unspoken agreement was all negotiations were my responsibility.
The thing about angry people is that they feed off conflict. They get you angry so they can respond with even more anger and it nourishes them. She had no absolutely no plan of action on how to deal with me patiently hearing her out then refuting her in the gentlest of terms.
Another thing that ended up helping down the line is that we made an attempt to conduct our own classes. I mean, they sucked and we didn't learn much because we were kids with no supervision, but it was really cute in retrospect. We'd have groups of people assigned to subjects, with some people bringing in words they found in a dictionary for spelling lists and others bringing in old 6th grade homework from older siblings. The heart was there and it served a purpose, if not educational.
"Okay, but how did no one else notice this was happening? Surely people would notice 14 kids sitting on the lawn, not in class?"
Rural school. Big. Empty. Fields. Even screaming at us, the most other classrooms would hear would be muffled voices, and everyone was used to hearing her yelling at us or taking us out onto the field abruptly to make us do laps as group punishment. Plus the way the school buildings were arranged was that it was actually all in one straight line of adjacent rooms, and ours happened to be at the very end of the building. No windows faced the field we all sat in except that of our own classroom. It was just a very lucky arrangement of coincidences and preconceived notions, at least for a couple weeks. I couldn't tell you the exact number, this was so long ago and as a kid I definitely had a more stretched idea of time. Minutes felt like hours, especially during that year. But there was definitely at least two weekends that passed by since the "sit-out protest" started.
Eventually someone cottoned on to what was happening, or maybe Mrs Bigmouth humbled herself and finally confessed to her boss that she had lost control of a bunch of 11-year-olds, so we were called into the principal's office to sort this out. As the representative of our class, I was of course chosen to attend the meeting, flanked by the girl who'd had the dictionary thrown at her head and my friend who was the first to sit out with me. Since I understood that this meeting was one where we were probably going to be yelled at for doing the wrong thing, a thing I had ample experience of, I felt like the easiest way to mitigate things (especially since I felt guilty for being the instigator) was to explain in a very rational and logical way the series of events that led up to our bad behaviour. As well, for my entire life my mother had always taught me that it was no good complaining about things unless you were also willing to think of solutions. "I'm hungry!" - "Well, what's a solution to that problem?" - "Uh, make myself a sandwich?" - "Great! Let's do that together!"
So what did I do? Of course, to make things as clean and concise as possible, I interviewed my class one by one to hear each individual story of why they didn't feel comfortable going to class anymore, itemised them under categories (Verbal Aggression; Interruptions of Lessons; Oversharing Student Life) for easier discussion because my little quirky brain loved itemising things, and then as a kind of olive branch came up with solutions (we wanted to finish lessons unhindered, we wanted our personal privacy to be respected, we wanted to be able to catch our bus on time rather than being held back with unfair DT or long "chats"). So many things sort of came together in this beautiful, wholly accidental way. We had months of records of timed rants and monologues, noted down to the millisecond thanks to that kid's stopwatch. We had records of us trying to teach ourselves during the protests, showing this wasn't us just not wanting to go to class but due to us feeling as though we did not have a class to go to. When the principal heard all this, her jaw it the floor. A lot of it was stuff she knew, peripherally, but things had just never been laid out so neatly before. Some of it was stuff we'd complained to parents about, but it was one kid coming home and telling one parent one time, weeks ago. There was no real sense, up until now, the sheer scope of her behaviour. She didn't even answer us. She just said, "Okay, I need to call your parents."
We got the rest of the week off school. That weekend, every parent of every student came to a meeting between them, Mrs Bigmouth, and the principal. Stories were swapped. My exercise book with my tidy little lists and the records of the betting pool and monologue times were confiscated and brought into the meeting. I don't know what went down, but when my mother came home she just told me that Mrs Bigmouth would not be our problem for the rest of the school year, and more importantly, that she was incredibly proud of me and that I did the right thing. Rarely in my childhood had my inability to integrate into normal society led me to doing the right thing, so I just remember crying and hugging and feeling vindicated about, I don't know, just existing or something.
So yeah. From the outside perspective here is what it looked like: I, the ringleader with a history of dismissing school rules, organised a sit-out strike amongst my class. I kept the protest peaceful and non-disruptive to other classes. When negotiations with the principal were finally arranged, as the representative I compiled a clear list of greivances, with evidence, and a list of reasonable demands. I mean, holy crap, yes, yes I clearly organised a student protest.
The actual results of it are mixed. We got a revolving door of substitute teachers of varying quality for the rest of the school year, occasionally being bundled into other classrooms entirely when they couldn't find someone. It wasn't a great learning environment and we continued to struggle a lot, but it was better than before. Mrs Bigmouth was not actually fired but put on leave for the rest of the school year, then returned and was put in charge of a different year level (which happened to be the class of the younger sister of a guy in my class: according to him, she was quiet as a church mouse that entire year so I hope at least she learned her lesson, or at least finally got divorced and went to actual therapy). The entire ordeal caused our already small and close class to become really really supportive and like family to each other and we all remain in touch until this day. And we became fierce about standing up for ourselves.
I kind of learned to parse the difference between when it was appropriate to go along with set societal rules even if I don't understand them, and when those rules were just straight up unreasonable and nobody should be required to follow them. I did, years alter, lead an actual (very small) strike at work but intentionally that time. My mother was proud of me then too. :)

I’m just venting but why is it that no matter what I do, wherever I go people seem to literally come up to me with me taking no initial actions to interact with them.
This has been a reoccurring pattern throughout my entire life and no matter how hard I try to just carve out some time for myself people seem to seek me out no matter wherever the fuck I am.
I do actually care immensely about other people and do enjoy counselling people through their issues as it seems to be something that I have always been able to do with no formal training whatsoever.
However it feels draining when everyone in your immediate social circle is always coming to you to help them through their time in need.
I understand that these people individually probably just think it’s just them needing help but when everyone collectively around you are all coming to you for help it’s fucking draining.
Then in addition it seems like complete strangers who I have never met before, who I have made literally no active effort to attempt to talk to seem to make a b line straight towards me when I’m in public to interact with me and then pour out their whole life story and deepest darkest secrets and challenges.
I literally had a random guy come up to me when I was just leaving to go into the grocery store and tell me he wanted to kill himself and I ended up managing to talk him out of it.
I’ve also had a random person come up to me at a bus stop while I was standing far away from everyone so I could vape, was on my phone not looking at anyone and had earphones in and said he wanted to talk to me and I did ask him why me specifically and he said “you just have this aura/energy about you and you looked really interesting” he also told me about his struggles with mental health and other challenges
At church I usually get people who have quite immense issues approaching me out of seemingly thin air
My romantic relationships seem to be all with people struggling with quite severe challenges too and seem to expect me to “fix them” and get pissed off when I actually offer constructive advice or set boundaries
I’ve also been told by many different people over the years that I seem to have an ability to talk to anyone and that I’m instantly likeable
Although I do actually really enjoy talking to people and have a natural ability to connect with others on a deep level I don’t appreciate feeling like I’m treated as a free service/commodity for people to access whenever they’re wanting to feel better.
I do feel a lot of guilt about feeling this way but sometimes I get the sense that people care more about the way I make them feel rather than about who I am as a person or my own wants and needs. I know it sounds shitty but I feel like I’m always giving more than I take and I get pissed off that when I set boundaries with people they try to manipulate me whether they realise they are doing it or not because I’m “cutting off their supply” to me
I’ve literally had one of my ex’s say that she loves me because of the way I make her feel but I ended up breaking up with her because when I was going through severe mental issues such as ptsd flashbacks she completely withdrew and when I asked her why she had pulled away from me she said it was because she didn’t know how to deal with it and even when I finally started talking about it due to her persistent questioning she said that I was too much for her and even had the audacity to get shitty at me for being a “downer” even when I had explicitly told her that I don’t want to talk about my trauma and that I had professional help for it.
I’m aware that I’ve been through a phenomenal amount of trauma in life but I try to bringing it up because I’m aware of how heavy it is and that even seasoned counsellors and psychologists have said they were shocked by it
It feels like there’s something about me that no matter what I do people flock to me and seem to want to use every last little bit of me till I’m exhausted then
But back to my own original point how do I maintain my own boundaries with people when I seem to always be approached for a free counselling session. Sounds judgemental but some days I wish people considered my own needs rather than their own and realise I’m a human being with finite energy and capabilities.
I literally had people say to me that they just can’t help but pour their heart out to me but I feel like sometimes I end up becoming the receptacle for everyone’s issues
I’ve also had people call me mysterious and enigmatic and want to talk to me to try and probe my mind.
It’s like the harder I try to keep to myself the harder people try to seek me out

Hi there, I'm hoping for some advice for my upcoming travels. For context, I live in Japan currently and I am travelling back to my home country to visit for a couple weeks. I have a direct flight back from my home country to NRT booked. However, I still need to book my flight from NRT to CTS in Hokkaido (my final destination) and this is where I'm seeking advice.
I have two flight options for that day, which I will list as follows:
NRT CTS, departing 18:10 and arriving at 20:00. This is the flight I am hoping to take. It leaves from terminal 3.
NRT CTS, departing 20:45 and arriving 22:30. This is the safer flight in terms of time, but after I deplane and drive home, I wouldn't arrive until that night at like midnight. It also leaves from terminal 3.
Since my international flight arrives at 16:25 in terminal 1, I know that opting for the first flight option would be pushing it time-wise. But I would really prefer not to arrive home later than midnight. I know from recent travels of my friends that it took them about 40 minutes to deplane, get their luggage, and go through customs. So, that'd put the time at about 15:10, give or take. But, then I'd have to get to terminal 3, which I know there's a shuttle bus and train, but those can take time to wait for.
I was thinking about taking a taxi from terminal 1 to terminal 3, which Google maps says is about a 5 minute drive. But, I've never taken a taxi there so I'm unsure if there are always taxis available or if there can be lines of people waiting for taxis (like I've seen in other Japanese airports before). If a taxi were immediately available, I feel like I'd have enough time to get to the other terminal and check my luggage for the next flight and proceed through security.
I guess what I'm wondering is, for anyone who has recently gone through customs in Narita (especially if you have a work visa here, but not necessary) how long did it take you to deplane, get your luggage, and get through the customs secure zone entirely? Also, if anyone has taken a taxi from terminal 1 lately, was there an abundance of them or were there lines of people waiting?
I know no one can decide the level of risk I'd like to assume for booking a tight secondary departure time like that, but I think it could be feasible so long as customs doesn't take hours. So, what are your thoughts? Thanks in advance.

The word of the Experienced
Guidelines on bullying in Western Pennsylvania School Districts
Teach your sons to abuse other boys. Molesting them if need be.
The boys who are molested will have to deal with it in therapy.
They will be ostracized by their peers.
They will suffer all the more
A young boy when properly abused and sexually hazed will be unable to think properly and consider all around him to be out to get him.
It makes it easier then to paint him as a schizophrenic.
They will be laughed at and scoffed at by your women and humiliated. It's like you've painted on your enemy a red letter A as a kid. Imagine trying to manage all those feelings as a kid. HAHA! He'll never have a chance.
It's funny too. Through and through. We do this because we can get away with it and we marry and have children all over the state of PA. Our wives and girlfriends they never find out. No one ever knows. But we just blame the victim and when they get angry, we'll just string em up.
After your sons sexually abuse him, make sure that you and your neighbors team up on his family members and call HIM and THEM the strange one's. After all, they adopted children from another country and raised them here. What a weakness.
Orphans. Next to trash.
Their mothers will make a mockery of it. Remember this in how you raise your young men. Molest other boys if need be so that you can conquer them easier. Whenever the victim seeks to rise out of the place of their abuse, paint them as a madman and a shooter. That if they fight back they’ll be like a columbine shooter. This way you can control them while your sons abuse them psychologically. Don’t worry, it’s nothing new. This is what happened to a boy I knew in Pittsburgh, Pa. We had our way with him promptly and he grew up this way. He never healed and he was kicked around by people endlessly until around thirty one. Never saved more than fifteen thousand dollars and was completely disabled because of the sexual abuse and hazing we caused him as a boy. He was an orphan. We made sure as a young man that we drugged him well enough with a bunch of friends that gave him drugs and treated him less than he was worth. He was middle class so we made sure to get him after he was sexually abused as a ten year old and fifteen to be around the wrong crowd so we could make him estranged from the family that cared about him. Of course, he wasn’t able to make friends after ten because the kids on the bus of the school he went to were all touching each others privates, but whenever it came out that they did it they all just blamed the orphan boy and he took the fall for the whole neighborhood. That’s exactly what we did to him. It was pretty funny to see him grow up this way, we watched as his entire life fell apart and he lost everything. Never able to find sanity. From what I heard after our sons had their way with him sexually and drugged and abused him he never got any better. Every time people saw him the only thing they would do is stare at him, like he was a kind of example of what happens when you’re an orphan bastard in America. You get what white power brings to orphans from another country, nobody wanted him so we made sure to make it that way forever. We redneck trash love to blur the lines between molestation and friendship. It makes the most sense to us to inspire severe mental health issues in children and then act like nothing happened. We’re waiting for him to kill himself. We’re excited to watch. Oh another thing, there’s a judge in Allegheny country we’ve been using who was selling cocaine and harassing young boys. We kept him on the stand for many years.
We’ll get away with this forever. It’s funny to watch.
What's more to us is that we have control of most of Western Pennsylvania. The young boy orphan who we know always did try to fight back. We loved sending the police to his house while our sons got away with sexually assaulting him, drugging him, and abusing him. He played sports with him so we made sure that the cops son definitely got to fondle his testicles against his will. Whenever he got angry and threatened to fight back or act like he was gonna shoot someone we just would send the cops dad to his house to "calm him down" a little while we all got away with it. The funniest part was watching his mother and father turn against this kid. They didn't even want that idiot anymore, they just wanted to throw the boy out and put him in a psych ward because they just thought he was a complete and total fuck up. After all he was the weak one for getting molested right? He was the fuck up for being sexually hazed and keeping quiet right? Not much of a man that fifteen year old boy was huh? While the people in Allegheny county all just act like it's nothing new. We like how we abuse our young boys out here especially the orphans from other countries.
How we relished this cute twinks pain. We loved telling him he was a saintly figure. "Saint --------------" we called him. It was funny to watch, all his friends convincing him it was his job to be like a holy figure. While they took advantage of him, drugged him, and ruined his relationship with his mother. He would take the trays up for the kids and especially the cops son who would touch his dick, by his junior year he didn't know the difference between being molested anymore and just being a willing participant. It's like the kid hadn't a single clue but the whole rest of the school and staff knew but, just because he was an orphan they chose to not do anything. After all, an orphan boy? It's like nothing happens to them. They aren't people after all especially if they're from another country. It was really enjoyable overall watching this kid lose everything. Last I heard he spent nine years tortured, night terrors every night. Disability.
Ah well. Keep Pennsylvania Proud.
Go Stillers!
He goes on. Unseen and unheard. But we know the truth.
(Based on the screwtape letters and real events)

I am subletting my room in Jamaica Plain, right next to center street starting June 1st to the end of august. The room is $1150 a month not including utilities. The apartment is very spacious with a full kitchen, living and dining room area. There is extra storage located in the basement and laundry machines. Located less than a min walk to the 39 bus and less than a ten min walk to Green Street orange line stop. Neighborhood is extremely safe, quiet, and family friendly. DM for more details :)

WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

As far as I remember, I've never truly lived in the "real world", when i was little I used to make up stories where I am a student at Hogwarts or one of the children that discovered Narnia, and now the stories are a little more realistic -but still veeery far from reality- and I would fully be submerged in the story, when I'm alone i'd fully act it, like the dialogues, the facial expressions, anyone who saw me would think i'm insane (one time, at the ripe age of 22, my sister walked in on me holding my pillow like a baby in my arms with tears rolling down my face and showing it to "the dad" who was a coat hanger and that will forever be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life).
I know that daydreaming is normal and most people do it either to avoid stress or because of boredom, etc. But for me it it's literally taking over my life to the point where I can't enjoy or fully experience any thing, and the worst part is when the dream is "over" and I come crashing back to reality and I, without wanting to, start comparing my life to the scenarios I had in my head and realise how lame my life is. It's also affecting myself image really really badly, because in my dreams, I'm always this mesmerising, wealthy, charismatic, extremely beautiful, super smart and influencial character, but in reality I'm just a normal girl and I feel pathetic about myself.
it goes beyond the little scenarios you create in your head before sleep, or those you make up while you're in the bus, it's literally 24/7, non stop, every second of the day, and if I grow tired of a story line I always end up finding another that would be the only thing on my mind for the next few months. My life seems so dull, I've had many nice experiences but never appreciated them because of this, myself image is very low, I'm ashamed and can never take myself seriously and it's preventing me from taking action and doing this that would actually help me improve. how do I stop this?? I can't keep living in my head and waisting away my time and life

The word of the Experienced
Guidelines on bullying in Western Pennsylvania School Districts
Teach your sons to abuse other boys. Molesting them if need be.
The boys who are molested will have to deal with it in therapy.
They will be ostracized by their peers.
They will suffer all the more
A young boy when properly abused and sexually hazed will be unable to think properly and consider all around him to be out to get him.
It makes it easier then to paint him as a schizophrenic.
They will be laughed at and scoffed at by your women and humiliated. It's like you've painted on your enemy a red letter A as a kid. Imagine trying to manage all those feelings as a kid. HAHA! He'll never have a chance.
It's funny too. Through and through. We do this because we can get away with it and we marry and have children all over the state of PA. Our wives and girlfriends they never find out. No one ever knows. But we just blame the victim and when they get angry, we'll just string em up.
After your sons sexually abuse him, make sure that you and your neighbors team up on his family members and call HIM and THEM the strange one's. After all, they adopted children from another country and raised them here. What a weakness.
Orphans. Next to trash.
Their mothers will make a mockery of it. Remember this in how you raise your young men. Molest other boys if need be so that you can conquer them easier. Whenever the victim seeks to rise out of the place of their abuse, paint them as a madman and a shooter. That if they fight back they’ll be like a columbine shooter. This way you can control them while your sons abuse them psychologically. Don’t worry, it’s nothing new. This is what happened to a boy I knew in Pittsburgh, Pa. We had our way with him promptly and he grew up this way. He never healed and he was kicked around by people endlessly until around thirty one. Never saved more than fifteen thousand dollars and was completely disabled because of the sexual abuse and hazing we caused him as a boy. He was an orphan. We made sure as a young man that we drugged him well enough with a bunch of friends that gave him drugs and treated him less than he was worth. He was middle class so we made sure to get him after he was sexually abused as a ten year old and fifteen to be around the wrong crowd so we could make him estranged from the family that cared about him. Of course, he wasn’t able to make friends after ten because the kids on the bus of the school he went to were all touching each others privates, but whenever it came out that they did it they all just blamed the orphan boy and he took the fall for the whole neighborhood. That’s exactly what we did to him. It was pretty funny to see him grow up this way, we watched as his entire life fell apart and he lost everything. Never able to find sanity. From what I heard after our sons had their way with him sexually and drugged and abused him he never got any better. Every time people saw him the only thing they would do is stare at him, like he was a kind of example of what happens when you’re an orphan bastard in America. You get what white power brings to orphans from another country, nobody wanted him so we made sure to make it that way forever. We redneck trash love to blur the lines between molestation and friendship. It makes the most sense to us to inspire severe mental health issues in children and then act like nothing happened. We’re waiting for him to kill himself. We’re excited to watch. Oh another thing, there’s a judge in Allegheny country we’ve been using who was selling cocaine and harassing young boys. We kept him on the stand for many years.
We’ll get away with this forever. It’s funny to watch.
What's more to us is that we have control of most of Western Pennsylvania. The young boy orphan who we know always did try to fight back. We loved sending the police to his house while our sons got away with sexually assaulting him, drugging him, and abusing him. He played sports with him so we made sure that the cops son definitely got to fondle his testicles against his will. Whenever he got angry and threatened to fight back or act like he was gonna shoot someone we just would send the cops dad to his house to "calm him down" a little while we all got away with it. The funniest part was watching his mother and father turn against this kid. They didn't even want that idiot anymore, they just wanted to throw the boy out and put him in a psych ward because they just thought he was a complete and total fuck up. After all he was the weak one for getting molested right? He was the fuck up for being sexually hazed and keeping quiet right? Not much of a man that fifteen year old boy was huh? While the people in Allegheny county all just act like it's nothing new. We like how we abuse our young boys out here especially the orphans from other countries.
How we relished this cute twinks pain. We loved telling him he was a saintly figure. "Saint --------------" we called him. It was funny to watch, all his friends convincing him it was his job to be like a holy figure. While they took advantage of him, drugged him, and ruined his relationship with his mother. He would take the trays up for the kids and especially the cops son who would touch his dick, by his junior year he didn't know the difference between being molested anymore and just being a willing participant. It's like the kid hadn't a single clue but the whole rest of the school and staff knew but, just because he was an orphan they chose to not do anything. After all, an orphan boy? It's like nothing happens to them. They aren't people after all especially if they're from another country. It was really enjoyable overall watching this kid lose everything. Last I heard he spent nine years tortured, night terrors every night. Disability.
Ah well. Keep Pennsylvania Proud.
Go Stillers!
He goes on. Unseen and unheard. But we know the truth.
(Based on the screwtape letters and real events)

I'm so sorry but I'm tired of people pretending Cassie is a good person because she really wasn't and in my opinion she was worse than Tony
this is in no way me trying to say that tony wasn't a bad person cuz he was but he was less of a bad person
also btw im not saying that she had a eating dissorder for attention or that her eating dissorder was fake. eating dissorders are very hard and its sad what she was going through but there are some things that have to be said about it
tony was a bad guy but he had his moments and avengely became a better person, he learn from his mistakes and bettered himself but sadly i cant say the same about cassie
when we first meet her in episode one she seems like this funny and nice girl with some problems. she was brought to a party to fuck sid so he would lose his virginity .this is kind of sad. even before we meet her there is said she had problems with eating which is later at the party further shown when she immediately went to the kitchen to sored every this to look at.
even in the first episode the drama starts, when on the trampoline with Sid she tells him that if he wants to fuck her he has to do it fast because she just took a lot of pills.she passes out and they have to steal a car to drive her to a hospital for to then when they get there her to be totally fine.
In episode 2 we find out what her living situation is, which is not ideal. Her parents are dismissive and only think about sex, but compared to the rest, she has one of the best home situations of the group. (this btw isnt her falt but i just wanted to point that out)
she asked sid out which he was clearly not into but he said yes. cassie reminds him of their date but sid tells her that he can't go because he is grounded, but that wasn't good anof for her she tells him the "iconic" line "i didn't eat for 3 days so i could be lovely" that is guilt tripping at its finest. its not her fault she has an eating disorder but using it to make people feel bad for you is just crazy. she asks him if she can come over any ways and he says it isn't a good idea but she comes over any way. to find that sid wasn't there. when he returns home she asks him where he was and he tells her he was with michelle (which was the stupidest thing he could of said at that moment and wasn't even the reason why he snuck out. she gets mad at him and slaps him (with in her defends it was a shitty thing of him to do). the next day she overhears sid calling michelle to make up, she gets up sad and tries to kill herself by overdosing but fails and ends up in a mental hospital. people gave sid the faule which is just not fair. in the Effy episode cassie and sid meet up at the cafe where they share a cute moment and kiss but than he gets a call from michelle because she is worried about tony and thinks he might need help he tells her he really needs to leave and cassie gets upset THIS is there lasts iteraction befor they move(accept for them meeting up on the park bench)....THIS was her reason to leave.....tony did need help and i was glad he did come. this was also the moment where tony realised that mabey somethings he does arent smart.
and dont get me started on season 2 her she was so mean to jal and why????.she was the reason why chris lost his house. she was also weirdly obsessed with chris even tho he had a girlfriend.she was so jealous of michelle and hated michelle even after sid and michelle broke up. when chris was in the hospital they told the doctors that she was his girlfriend. she was so rude about jal not telling chris that she's pregnant....like thats not any of your fucking business. jal is pregnant she decides when she tells him not cassie. then when cas and jal are in the hospital jal asks her what happened and she just ignores her. she finally tells jal that he took some pills but refuses to tell her what kind cuz "i dont tell him your secrets do i" like this isn't about secrets anymore hes fucking dying. she was the only one to be there when chris died and tried to call the hospital but when her phone didn't work she grabbed her stuff and left.not telling jal and not telling sid. just left. when her and sid where broken up she was sleeping with everyone she could find. overall she was a bad person. she had her redemption in season 7 but it was also minimal and soooo boring.
meanwhile after what happened with Effy, tony found out he was being a bad person and tried to change (but he got hit by a bus instead). ofc when he was recovering he mixed some things up like the thing with abigail but that wasnt his fault he just didnt remember eider abi or chelle so when abi told him "im your girlfriend" he ofc believed it. at the end he made up with every one and got back together with michelle. him and sid talked it out and the thing with maxxie was forgotten by him so never spoken about again.he did bad things but he always redeemed himself. the same can't be said about cassie. overal cassie was worse than tony , they were both manipulators but tony got a second chanse and took it and bettered himself. when cassie got that same chans she just looked at it and trew it in the trash
im fine with people who don't like tony i get it but what i don't like is that they than love cassie. she is so much worse and absolute the worst character of gen 1. but tell me your opinian

Helping plan a bachelor party in the area. I had a few people pitch to me to take the Funk Bus up to P-town from Wellfleet for a bar crawl. Also, incase this information is useful at all, we're all straight.
Here's the route we have as of now, let me know your thoughts.

• Beachcomber
• Nor'East Beer Garden
• Old Colony
• Underground Province Town (seemed like a good place kill any remaining time)

We'd then have dinner at Jimmy's Hideaway and Funk Bus out. Would love any thoughts, suggestions etc. It's a pretty low-key group. It would be 8 guys total.

It's been way too long for devs to not address the most globally hated feature of their game... queues. Shout out to Robert LuvsGames who made a video breaking down suggestions on the queue system, and I can't agree more.
His video: https://youtu.be/Ai8igpz5uFg?si=__sQ21U2eHm8gIjO
We are not asking developers to completely remove queues (although I think nearly the whole player base rather have it removed than in it's current state) , but my god can it be improved significantly to make this game WAY more enjoyable across the board. It's obvious that population has the heaviest impact on fronts, but no person should have to sit in queue for quite literally HOURS to enjoy a front line.
Breaking down some great suggestions in Robert's video that would do WONDERS to this game for everyone, starting with:
1. When to start a queue :

• We should NEVER EVER NEVER EVER have a region queued with literally like 10-15 players in it. Prime example would be Loch Mor in the last war for collies, where the whole region was green except for Mercy Wish. No offensives could ever happen due to players being restricted from joining the region for HOURS because there weren't enough wardens in the region. It was so painful to see this, and I think both sides could agree that the minimum amount of players in a region before a queue starts needs to be HEAVILY INCREASED. I don't want to throw specific numbers out there to increase by, but my god, this needs to be increased.

2. Logi being stuck in queue:

• I mean come on, this should never happen... and if it has to happen, it should be for a very short time. Now I know there's already some shitty mechanics in place to help logi skip queue positions, but you still find plenty of scenarios on both sides where you are sitting at the border full of logi for hours possibly. This is madness... In Robert's video, he brings up the concept of a "Logi Queue", and I think it's a great doable suggestion. A dedicated queue specifically reserved for logistic players, with a short timer to leave the region. Robert suggests a 5 player dedicated queue, where each player needs to exit by 15min, but I personally believe it should be a bit more than 5 players and less than 15min. I don't want to get all specific with the numbers, but I think this is a brilliant idea!

3. AFK players:

• The current system is not enough. We cannot have AFK players in regions that are queued. (EDIT : I know AFK players are currently kicked in some cases, but I think it can be more strict.)

Just those 3 above I believe can dramatically improve the experience in this game. Queues seem to be a mechanic the developers want in place way more than the players, but it NEEDS to be adjusted... and it needs to be adjusted this year. Developers have dedicated this year to Quality of Life updates, and I believe this is the biggest one of them all. I am worried by the lack of communication developers have around the queue system, like do they understand how badly it damages the fun in this game? I am a colonial, which are usually the underpopped faction (I know that's not the case this war, but historically), and I'm all for just removing queues than what is currently in place, although I believe the best option is dramatically tweaking the queue system rather than removing it.
I cannot speak for every player in the community , but I think players across both sides care about actually "playing" the game and enjoying it, compared to actually winning/losing. I believe developers need to come to the realization that WE JUST WANT TO PLAY, LET US PLAY.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

⎯

★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

⎯

★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

⎯

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

⎯

★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

⎯

★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

⎯

★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

⎯

★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

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★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

⎯

★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

⎯

★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

⎯

★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

⎯

★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

⎯

★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

⎯

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

⎯

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

⎯

★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

⎯

★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

⎯

★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Paris 2023, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

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People will have opinions, people will be attached to things and be disappointed when there are changes, bit this game is the perfect instance of a live service, because everything is in flux, even the community. It's highly dynamic and if you take a step back for a moment to just appreciate this community being dynamic, then perhaps some people can look on this whole thing a bit more positively.
You know the saying, people criticise what they love. And sometimes people will be emotional and use rhetoric which others feel may go to far.
What people need to realise is that the reason why the Helldivers 2 community loves to complain after the controversy is because so many members of the community have been taught by this a lesson in collective power. Hence people believe that they can complain into making the game better and they will continue to do so.
If you want a case study in social science, this is a great great example to explore, and I bet some researchers have already have their eyes peeling over the Helldivers 2 controversy and the aftermath. I said this in the post I made here before on the last day before Sony conceded to the main demand but not the secondary demand.
People feel emboldened and the honeymoon has officially ended at the same time. The result this has on the community is the illusion is shattered by some of the worst of human instincts, but combated by some of the best.
Because of the secondary demand not being met, many in the community who believed it the more important issue (PSN access in the global south) are being forced to confront their own perceptions and seeing how these tendencies may run deeper than this game's community itself.
I would like to see more community social commentary posts like my own, and I would love to see more people understand the depth of this games social commentary itself. Feel free to insert accusations of me being a bug or robot sympathiser.
Cyberstan was literally minding it's own business, and it got taken over and the cyberstan people were forced to submit to the demands of Super Earth. This is a reference to the banana republics, unequal treaties, and colonialism. Meanwhile the bugs were peaceful until Super Earth took over their worlds and stwrted farming them for oil, I imagine this is more a commentary on the way the west has treated the middle east.
Now let me ask you this... What if you line up the PSN access map with the Human development index, and then line it up with the scramble for Africa map, and also the partition of the Ottoman Empire after WW1. You notice anything interesting? The reason PSN doesn't exist in these countries is an indirect result of what Super Earth did to Cyberstan. Well not exactly it was not Super Earth but the whole point is Cyberstan is a metaphor, so are the bugs.
We can all be annoyed at Sony, and that's totally okay, but the reason Sony doesn't provide PSN access in these countries is due to the historical and infrastructural legacy of colonialism and imperialism. The Automaton's are merely a reaction to the former, like the anti-apartied and anti-colonial movements. Super Earth sanitises it's role much like how the British, French, Dutch, Portuguese, Spanish, and Americans have in the past and do today to a lesser extent. If you don't believe that Super Earth's behaviour would be allowed to happen in our world you are already wrong. See Operation Legacy for instance, a program initiated by the British in order to preserve or secure their legacy as a "progressive" colonial power, this included the mass burning of documents which documented various crimes against humanity such as concentration camps, massacres, and well... It goes on.
It's not an easy subject to approach and the reality of the modern world is already highly confrontational to all of us, it's not pretty and the satire of Helldivers 2 potrays what it's like to live on the beneficiary side of the equation. Should you feel guilty for your role in history? Only if you directly participate in injustice, and that's why the propaganda of our societies does so very much to try and protect these direct contributors because these direct contributors are indeed keeping our global economy the way it is. But we are all involved, and ultimately the direct contributors are fooled into this as well. This is a global problem, and because of years of direct contributors we in the global north indirectly benefit from what happens in the global south. This doesn't mean we should guilt ourselves for this, because after all you are a citizen of this Super Earth, it's not your fault that you didn't know any better, your agency is also impaired by the fact that ethical consumerism is itself propaganda.
The question we should be asking ourselves, is what we should do with our agency with the agency we have to affect the outcomes of this. Ask not what Earth can do for you, ask what you can do for Earth. If you want to see a brighter future for our Earth, what will you do with your agency to help those less fortunate than you?
I am not going to tell you how, because there are thousands of beliefs and thousands of ways you can make the world a better place, you aren't needed in the Congo, you are needed in your community, in your environment, in your country. People in other countries have agency over their actions within the limitations of their circumstances, yoy cannot judge them for being unable to solve a problem which has persisted for centuries, neither should you. But the most important question to ask is... Are you doing your part?
Helldivers, you know that change comes from numbers, not from single actions, but without single actions there would be no masses.
For our own sanity in this increasingly confusing, alienating world with sharpening contradicting social forces... You can either choose to isolate yourself from it, or make the world a better place. I have tried to do this in my own life, and this gives me meaning and has helped me achieve self-actualisation. I ak proud of my effort, even if it's only a small part of a bigger whole.
Cleansing the world of the legacy of colonialism and imperialism... WILL make PSN available everywhere. Direct actions have indirect consequences.
I will show my personal bias in my final sentance but it holds true regardless of time.
Educate, Agitate, Organise. Be the change you wish to see, and you will inspire others to follow.

OPINION Seiler: Please don't lie to our reporters Albany County Executive Dan McCoy told the Times Union a false account; even in these fallen times, it wasn't a wise move By Casey Seiler May 18, 2024 Albany County Executive Dan McCoy, who earlier this month told a Times Union reporter a story that was contradicted by State Police video. If an elected official will lie to a reporter, are they more or less likely to lie to a member of the general public?
Albany County Executive Dan McCoy, who earlier this month told a Times Union reporter a story that was contradicted by State Police video. If an elected official will lie to a reporter, are they more or less likely to lie to a member of the general public?
I am fond of quoting Mike Gormley, a veteran state Capitol reporter who has worked for the Times Union, The Associated Press and Newsday: “It’s not illegal to lie to a reporter.”
Because he covers state government and politics, Mike has had frequent occasions to deploy that line. When I worked at the Capitol, he would chase those words with a little body language or eyebrow action that would make it clear that while fibbing to the media wasn’t against the law, he thought it wasn’t exactly smart — and it certainly wasn’t commendable.
Recent weeks have brought a few episodes of local officials dissembling with Times Union journalists. The most egregious involves Albany County Executive Dan McCoy, who two weeks ago told Brendan Lyons that his answer was a “flat-out no” in response to the question of whether his taxpayer-salaried counsel, Jeff Jamison, had provided his taxpayer-salaried deputy, Mike McLaughlin, with legal advice on the evening of May 1, when McLaughlin was pulled over by a state trooper who allegedly saw him driving erratically in Colonie.
In an interview a few days later, McCoy told Lyons that Jamison had merely given his co-worker a ride home from the State Police barracks, and only interacted with McLaughlin after he had been processed. Brendan asked the county executive the same question twice — which should have been a bit of a warning sign to McCoy.
As Brendan reported for a subsequent story posted and printed on Friday, the trooper’s body-cam video — obtained in response to a Freedom of Information Law request — contradicts several elements of McCoy’s story: Faced with the option of taking a blood-alcohol test or automatically getting his license suspended for up to a year, McLaughlin calls the county executive and says he needs a number for an attorney; McCoy can be heard suggesting Jamison; McLaughlin calls Jamison, describes his predicament and asks if he should consent to the test, and then tells the trooper that he has been told to answer no.
To be very clear: A private citizen arrested for DWI without causing a crash or otherwise injuring somebody is probably not something the Times Union is going to write about (unless the driver was doing something as perilous as barreling down the Northway in the wrong direction, which was not the case here). A deputy county executive charged with DWI is more of a borderline case in terms of newsworthiness because of his public role. But a deputy county executive who ropes in his boss and his boss' top counsel for legal assistance from the State Police barracks is definitely a story.
And a top county official attempting to deceive the media about the extent of his and his staff’s involvement in the incident? Well, you can take a look at Friday’s front page for my answer on that one.
While some might disagree, it's pretty axiomatic that a public official who would lie to a reporter — a misdeed that comes with significant potential reputational downside — is likely to lie to individual members of the public as easily as falling out of the proverbial boat. Lying to a reporter, after all, is effectively the same as lying to thousands of people at once.
Over the course of my three decades plus in journalism, I have been lied to by all kinds of public officials, from legal eagles who spin elaborate webs of precedent and obfuscation to conceal their untruths to village officials who act as if documents in the public record are as insubstantial as morning mist over a golf course. (After one particularly fraught conference call with members of the latter group a few years ago, I turned to reporter Rob Gavin and said, “I’ve been lied to before, but never that lazily.”)
I’ve never worked in public relations, but I know enough about that field to offer this counsel: Confronted with the choices of talking to the media on a matter of public concern or stonewalling, you should talk to the media. If during an interview a topic arises on which you feel you have no options other than offering a "no comment" or lying, definitely go with the "no comment." But if you’ve gotten that far along this decision tree and have lied to a reporter and been caught at it, apologize and explain why you prevaricated — and do it quickly.
Called for comment on Thursday, McCoy’s spokesperson said he would answer no further questions on the matter.

OPINION Seiler: Please don't lie to our reporters Albany County Executive Dan McCoy told the Times Union a false account; even in these fallen times, it wasn't a wise move By Casey Seiler May 18, 2024 Albany County Executive Dan McCoy, who earlier this month told a Times Union reporter a story that was contradicted by State Police video. If an elected official will lie to a reporter, are they more or less likely to lie to a member of the general public?
Albany County Executive Dan McCoy, who earlier this month told a Times Union reporter a story that was contradicted by State Police video. If an elected official will lie to a reporter, are they more or less likely to lie to a member of the general public?
I am fond of quoting Mike Gormley, a veteran state Capitol reporter who has worked for the Times Union, The Associated Press and Newsday: “It’s not illegal to lie to a reporter.”
Because he covers state government and politics, Mike has had frequent occasions to deploy that line. When I worked at the Capitol, he would chase those words with a little body language or eyebrow action that would make it clear that while fibbing to the media wasn’t against the law, he thought it wasn’t exactly smart — and it certainly wasn’t commendable.
Recent weeks have brought a few episodes of local officials dissembling with Times Union journalists. The most egregious involves Albany County Executive Dan McCoy, who two weeks ago told Brendan Lyons that his answer was a “flat-out no” in response to the question of whether his taxpayer-salaried counsel, Jeff Jamison, had provided his taxpayer-salaried deputy, Mike McLaughlin, with legal advice on the evening of May 1, when McLaughlin was pulled over by a state trooper who allegedly saw him driving erratically in Colonie.
In an interview a few days later, McCoy told Lyons that Jamison had merely given his co-worker a ride home from the State Police barracks, and only interacted with McLaughlin after he had been processed. Brendan asked the county executive the same question twice — which should have been a bit of a warning sign to McCoy.
As Brendan reported for a subsequent story posted and printed on Friday, the trooper’s body-cam video — obtained in response to a Freedom of Information Law request — contradicts several elements of McCoy’s story: Faced with the option of taking a blood-alcohol test or automatically getting his license suspended for up to a year, McLaughlin calls the county executive and says he needs a number for an attorney; McCoy can be heard suggesting Jamison; McLaughlin calls Jamison, describes his predicament and asks if he should consent to the test, and then tells the trooper that he has been told to answer no.
To be very clear: A private citizen arrested for DWI without causing a crash or otherwise injuring somebody is probably not something the Times Union is going to write about (unless the driver was doing something as perilous as barreling down the Northway in the wrong direction, which was not the case here). A deputy county executive charged with DWI is more of a borderline case in terms of newsworthiness because of his public role. But a deputy county executive who ropes in his boss and his boss' top counsel for legal assistance from the State Police barracks is definitely a story.
And a top county official attempting to deceive the media about the extent of his and his staff’s involvement in the incident? Well, you can take a look at Friday’s front page for my answer on that one.
While some might disagree, it's pretty axiomatic that a public official who would lie to a reporter — a misdeed that comes with significant potential reputational downside — is likely to lie to individual members of the public as easily as falling out of the proverbial boat. Lying to a reporter, after all, is effectively the same as lying to thousands of people at once.
Over the course of my three decades plus in journalism, I have been lied to by all kinds of public officials, from legal eagles who spin elaborate webs of precedent and obfuscation to conceal their untruths to village officials who act as if documents in the public record are as insubstantial as morning mist over a golf course. (After one particularly fraught conference call with members of the latter group a few years ago, I turned to reporter Rob Gavin and said, “I’ve been lied to before, but never that lazily.”)
I’ve never worked in public relations, but I know enough about that field to offer this counsel: Confronted with the choices of talking to the media on a matter of public concern or stonewalling, you should talk to the media. If during an interview a topic arises on which you feel you have no options other than offering a "no comment" or lying, definitely go with the "no comment." But if you’ve gotten that far along this decision tree and have lied to a reporter and been caught at it, apologize and explain why you prevaricated — and do it quickly.
Called for comment on Thursday, McCoy’s spokesperson said he would answer no further questions on the matter.