Free mission style bedroom furniture plans

Author Kurt

2018.08.28 02:28 KurtisEckstein Author Kurt

A collection of short-stories by author Kurtis Eckstein. PLEASE NOTE that this is a vanity sub, all the content posted is copyrighted, and that posting is restricted to the author (anyone can comment). Website: https://www.AuthorKurt.com/ See information about Facebook Groups below.
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2024.05.18 23:06 Affectionate_Bat5876 Am I a horrible person for just wishing my sister didn't exist?

My sister seems like the worst person in the world to me and I need some outside opinions on this. Right now, I'm a minor in middle school, I would not like to specify my age, and the sister mentioned in the title is 24. My oldest sister is currently 26. I'll call the sister I really hate Sarah (24), and the other one that I really love Katie (26). As more context, Katie works a great job in a big city, she's super independent, and she treats the family to lots of nice things. Sarah lives at home and freeloads off my parents. Sarah has diagnosed ADHD, depression, OCD, anxiety, and probably more that I don't know about. I understand that when she was little my parents had very different parenting styles and I know that lots of things traumatized her mostly parents and teachers. The thing is, ever since I was little, she's been the one traumatizing me. I remember very clearly there was this one time where she had locked me in her room again (she did this multiple times a week to me) so she could yell at me about things I didn't understand. I was probably between the ages of 3-5 at that time. I remember that one specific time I was crying really really hard and as a child if I cried too hard I would have this feeling like I would need to puke. This specific time I remember my mom was banging on my sisters door to tell her to let me out, and I remember thinking if I could just throw up on her bed them she could definitely let me out, so I forced myself to cry harder until I threw up, and she let me out. Even after that, she would still always shut me in a room with her, and since my parents told her that she wasn't allowed to lock the door with only me and her inside a room, she would just hold the door shut and I couldn't open it because she was 10+ years older than me. Even today I hate being in the same room as her alone even with the door open for that reason. From when I was in preschool to probably 2nd grade in elementary school, she would always argue super loudly with my parents, specifically my dad, and she would always scream at him to divorce my mom and I just remember it was really scary. In recent years, her depression has been bad, so I've been trying to help out. When she needs food to be cooked, I cook for her, and when she moved back to our house from her apartment, she didn't do any work and it was just me my parents and my oldest sister moving her stuff for her. This is important because of an argument we had today. My mom was helping me clean out my room because my cat had been sick so we decided to deep clean my room to have a better environment for her, and while my mom was wiping stuff down, I was fixing a waterbottle, which was a task I had put off for months. She walked to me, told me to help my mom, and then got mad at me when I told her I wanted to finish fixing my water bottle first. For context for the next part, she always yells at me about things I do wrong and how I'm so entitled all the time. I understand that the way I'm raised is very different than the way she was because my parents have changed a lot in 10 years. I hate it when she yells at me, I can't even defend myself or say anything back, and if I ever say something mean to her she can't take it because she's struggling with mental health and it impacts her so badly. I don't get it, she always tells me to tell her what she can fix, and when I do, I admit I say those things at not the best times like during argument and stuff, she gets so pressed about what I say. Apparently its ok for her to insult every family member, but they can't say anything back to her. (mostly me and my dad, she always yells at him about how my mom always does all the work around the house, which is mostly true, but I also see him putting in an effort to take on chores. He does work until 6-8pm every day, but my mom is almost the only one taking care of me. My sister acts so proud of herself when she drives me to class, which I'm grateful for, but then she insults my dad for not doing it. As a literal freeloader, I don't get why she thinks she gets to insult him so so much. I am a feminist, I get what she's saying, but my dad is far from the horrible man she probably sees him as.) I've been struggling with suicide ideation for around 4 years, I've always hated school because it kills my creativity and it makes my life feel like a never ending cycle, and I always use home as my safe space. Sarah ruins the safe space and makes me unable to enjoy my own home. She is a huge part of why I literally don't want to live. The argument today escalated because when she called me entitled and lazy for not helping my mom with cleaning my room, which I did previously, I had just stopped to fix my water bottle when she had started talking at me, and so I said she can't speak on that because when she was moving back to our house everyone in the family helped move furniture except for her. She got so angry, told me that I was throwing her depressive episode in her face, and told me I was demonizing her mental health. I understand that depression is hard to handle, I've had two friends go to both hospitals and recovery places for depression and attempts. I completely understand that depression stops you from doing things, but I don't think that those things should just be ignored either. It's ok for her to not be able to move her own things because of depression, but I don't think its ok for her to preach about it to me and call me a horrible person when I bring it up. I'm not blaming her for having depression, I'm just calling her out for being a hypocrite. Another problem I have with her is that she's always trying to parent me. When I was little, whenever she was crying and sobbing and screaming I always brought her water and tissue paper, but she did nothing for me. I remember Katie always taking care of me when my parents were to busy with Sarah. I love Katie so so much, she does so much for me, she inspires me so much, and whenever she raises her voice at me it's because I'm in danger and whenever she lectures me its because I actually did something wrong. I always listen to Katie because I always feel like she's qualified to tell me things, because she's a great person and I know she will never tell me to do something that she herself cannot do. I don't think Sarah is qualified to take care of me. I hate how she tries to act like a big sister to me when I'm literally ashamed to have the same last name as her. I don't know what to do, I can't get away from Sarah because she still lives in my parent's house, has no job, and has not shown any sign of a plan for her future. Please help, I just want to stop letting my life be this impacted by her.
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2024.05.18 23:05 Afro_Salon_ EXTENSIONS HAIR

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submitted by Afro_Salon_ to u/Afro_Salon_ [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:46 SamMorrisHorror Them Devils Part 2

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.
submitted by SamMorrisHorror to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:45 Hot_Reach_7138 Which female character works better as a villain? Malty S. Melromarc or the Queen of Blades/Sarah Kerrigan (from StarCraft)?

Which female character works better as a villain? Malty S. Melromarc or the Queen of Blades/Sarah Kerrigan (from StarCraft)?
Malty S. Melromarc
Sarah Kerrigan (Zerg form)
Sarah Kerrigan (Human form)
If you want to know more about Sarah Kerrigan, I will explain more about the crimes she commits and the redeeming/sympathetic qualities she has below.
Here is a list of crimes committed by Sarah Kerrigan:
  • As a Terran, she served as an assassin for both the Confederacy and later the Sons of Korhal, killing whoever her supiriors ordered her and even participated in the assassination of Arcturus Mengsk's family.
  • She started killing Raynor's men as soon as they appeared to rescue her on Char and even destroyed his base.
  • She killed many Dark Templar when they also came to Char and tried to kill Tassadar.
  • She pretended to ally with the Protoss, so they could help her deal with the Second Overmind which was taking away control over the Zerg from her but she brainwashed their Matriarch behind their backs. When Aldaris found out the truth, he rebelled against the Matriarch which makes Kerrigan responsible for a mini civil war among the Protoss.
  • She killed Aldaris when he was about to expose her secret to the other Protoss even though they intended to spare him.
  • She pretended to ally with Arcturus Mengsk, James Raynor and Fenix against the UED, but in fact she only used them to defeat the UED because they threatened her dominance over the Koprulu Sector. After their victory, she betrayed her allies after they had fulfilled their purpose by launching surprise attacks against their bases, massacred their armies and killed Fenix and General Duke in the process.
  • She blows up the power grid of the Nerazim capital as a distraction which cost the lives of thousands of Protoss, so she could kidnap her.
  • Her brainwashing of the Nerazim Matriarch conditioned the latter to be Kerrigan's slave. The Matriarch was deprived her of her free will and was kidnapped by Kerrigan. This is presented as a fate considered worse than death for the Matriarch.
  • Later, Kerrigan uses the brainwashed Matriarch to order Zeratul to kill the Second Overmind which Zeratul does because he is loyal to his ruler. Kerrigan plays twisted games with Zeratul by promising she would allow the Matriarch to return to her people if Zeratul kills the Second Overmind, only to reveal that the Matriarch is so brainwashed that she doesn't want to go back to her people and instead wants to stay with Kerrigan.
  • After Zeratul kills the Matriarch to save her from her horrific fate, Kerrigan allows him to leave unharmed but not out of mercy but because she derives sadistic pleasure that he would be forced to live the rest of his life with the thought that he was forced to kill his own Matriarch because of Kerrigan's own actions.
  • She massacres the entire UED fleet even after they had surrendered. Kerrigan decides to make this more "fun" by allowing them to escape just to see how far they would go and then she unleashes the Zerg after them.
  • She has killed billions of people by having her Zerg conquer entire planets and then slaughter their population.
  • She gives her captives to her minion Abathur, who is in charge of perfecting the Zerg units, so he may use the captives for his horrible experiments where they eventually die.
  • She spreads a Zerg infestation on different planets which infects living people and turns them into zombies that suffer and are deprived of their free will. They can only serve Kerrigan and fulfill her demands.
  • She attempts to commit complete genocide on the Human and Protoss races.
  • At some point she kidnapped a human girl, infested her body and merged her legs with the walls of her Leviathan, so that Kerrigan could have someone she could store her memories into.
  • She tries to kill Zeratul when he goes to Ulaan to take the fragments of a prophecy she wants from him and wipes out High Templar Karass and all his warriors when they stand in her way to give Zeratul time to escape.
  • She tries to kill all of Jim Raynor's men as well as Valerian Mengsk's men when they launch an assault against her on Char to cure her and stop her rampage.
  • She wipes out an entire Protoss colony where she kills thousands of Protoss because she is afraid that if they inform the Golden Armada about her, they would kill her.
  • She infects one of the captured Protoss with a larva which bursts from the belly and kills the host in a painful way. Kerrigan uses said larva to infiltrate a Protoss ship, making it burst open the body of the female Protoss once she is onboard the ship. Then, the larva grows to be a Zerg Queen and she massacre the entire crew of the vessel in Kerrigan's name.
  • She kills a wounded Dominion General Horace Warfield by driving a beam sticking from his body all the way through even though his torso even though he had previously participated in her rescue operation where she gets deinfested and turned into human because he angers her when he mentions Jim Raynor and asks her what he would think of her. Granted, the reason why she battled him and his army was because he served Arcturus Mengsk, but still, he is portrayed as an honorable man who cares about his soldiers unlike Mengsk and he was at her mercy when she kills him.
  • On one occasion, she infests several garrisons of Dominion soldiers and sends them against their comrades, using them as cannon fodder.
And here is a list of her redeeming/sympathetic qualities:
  • Her worst crimes happen while she was corrupted by the Zerg and transformed into the Queen of Blades which means she has moral agency issues. She also has moral agency issues during the time when she assassinates people for the Confederacy because they had subjected her to neural resocialization and also regularly drugged her to keep her loyal and unable to resist their orders.
  • She has an extremely tragic backstory.
    • She was psychically gifted which caused a lot of problems for her from a young age. She was able to read all the private thoughts of other people which caused her to be disgusted by them in general and as a result became introverted and withdrawn and had a hard time making new friends.
    • Because she possessed such tremendous powers that she couldn't properly control them, her mother died and her father was left with a permanent brain damage, which caused him to eventually die as well, when Kerrigan accidentally unleashed her powers at the age of 7 which left her heartbroken and guilt-ridden.
    • She is then captured by the government to be abused, tortured, experimented upon, drugged and trained as a merciless assassin. One of her instructors would even go so far as to bring Kerrigan's father and threaten the young girl that he would inject her father with a tumor-causing chemical that would slowly kill him if she doesn't display her psionic powers for him. She was also neurally resocialized, which means she is physically incapable of refusing a direct order from a superior, and her memory was regularly mind-wiped, so that she would remain loyal to the Confederacy.
    • She was then released by Arcturus Mengsk and his rebel group, the Sons of Korhal. She served him faithfully for years but on one mission, she gets betrayed by him and is left to be killed by the Zerg, after she speaks out against his plan to lure the Zerg to the inhabited planet of Tarsonis. The Zerg transform her into the Queen of Blades through painful mutations, corrupting her mind which causes her to think like a Zerg rather than like a human and to become callous, cruel and genocidal.
  • She cares about some people in her life:
    • She loves her parents and that love is never subverted and her losing them both has left her heartbroken.
    • She has a friendship with a fellow rebel Somo Hung before he is killed by Confederate soldiers because she admires him and thinks he is genuine and good. The two of them even have romantic feelings for each other. When he dies in her arms after being shot by Lieutenant Rumm, she gets enraged and brutally ends the life of Somo's killer.
    • She genuinely loves Jim Raynor and on several occasions risks her own life to protect him and is deeply hurt when he rejects her after she had rescued him because she had chosen to become the Queen of Blades yet again, though the two of them still fix their relationship in the end. It's heavily implied that by the end of the series she has come to take him with her after becoming a Xel'Naga and that she ends up being with him.
  • She has many moments where she displays moral standards or has Pet the Dog moments when her mind is not corrupted by the Zerg:
    • She is disgusted by Mengsk's plan to use psi emitters to lure the Zerg to a planet as populous as Tarsonis which is what actually leads to Mengsk betraying her.
    • When Abathur tells her that as the Queen of Blades she had given him living test subjects to experiment on, Kerrigan tells him that they won't be doing any more experiments on people.
    • When some of her Zerg ask her for permission to slaughter the crew of a Terran ship, she refuses them. When Abathur suggests that Alexei Stukov should be killed since he is of no use to them, Kerrigan is angry and refuses his request.
    • She allows wounded enemy soldiers to be evacuated by stopping her Zerg from chasing them after their General Horace Warfield begs her to let them go and tries to keep her Zerg away from civilian centers in order to limit the casualties among the civilian population.
    • When one of her minions, Zagara, expresses a desire to sadistically torture the captive Protoss Lasarra, Kerrigan forbids her to do it.
    • Even though she implanted the Protoss Lasarra with a parasyte which burst from her body and killed her, so Kerrigan could infiltrate a Protoss ship and kill its inhabitants, Kerrigan only did it because she believed she had no other choice to survive and she apologises to Lasarra before implanting her with the parasyte. In addition, she later defends Lasarra's memory in front of her Zerg minions, stating that Lasarra has died bravely by attempting to warn her comrades and Kerrigan also proclaims she would kill anyone who stands in her way but that doesn't mean she would enjoy it.
  • She feels remorse for her actions after being deinfested, redeems herself and saves the entire universe from the Dark God, Amon, by becoming a Xel'Naga and using her new powers killing him. She later uses her powers to help grow life on previously barren planets in the Koprulu Sector.
  • Kerrigan shows clear insecurities and is introverted and withdrawn and displays vulnerabilities about people not trusting her and about her dark past which are played for sympathy. The fact that she is a telepath and is able to read people's thoughts doesn't help matters with finding more friends because her ability to see people's deepest secrets makes her disgusted with them most of the time. She has troubles making friends and the only people she becomes close with in her entire life are Jim Raynor and Somo Hung because they are the only people she trusts.
So, after reading all this information about Kerrigan, who would you say works better as villain?
submitted by Hot_Reach_7138 to shieldbro [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:40 HevoHeersal TRON: Ares is going to be a terrible shitstorm of a movie.

Rant in the comments a bunch about how much i should appreciate we're even getting something, but the "something" we're getting is trash. Only Jeff Bridges is coming back, but even that doesn't make sense because both Clu and Kevin Flynn are both dead. Also, Disney is currently in a state of reusing old stories and remaking them into these shells of their former selves, either that or making new stories that just straight up suck. Joachim Ronning is also a very shit director, and the only time his movies is actually good, is when others direct it with him.
The film synopsis also doesn't even make it sound like a tron movie. "TRON: Ares follows a highly sophisticated Program, Ares, who is sent from the digital world into the real world on a dangerous mission, marking humankind’s first encounter with A.I. beings." Firstly, who the hell sent him on the misson to have humans interact with A.I.? Flynn didn't, Clu definetly didn't, and if it's that god-forsaken "other" Grid from Tron: Identity, then obviouly it's just going to be a reboot, and the reboot is going to be trash. Secondly, A.I. doesn't exist in the TRON universe, it's always just been Programs, and the programs themselves are not A.I., they have personalites, motive, free will to make their own desicions, it's how the ISO war happened, it's why Beck decided to keep training with Tron.
Thirdly, is something that is also very wobbly, what's their plan with TRON going forward? Are they just going to drop the franchise after it fails, or are they going to try to build on the reboot? It seems like they're definetly going for the first option.
Anyways, this is the end of my little rant here, just wanted to give my opinon of TRON: Ares so far, and this is it. Also triangular discs are so fucking dumb, they should get rid of it.
submitted by HevoHeersal to tron [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:37 paradox914 Opinions wanted on a situation with a new person who isn't my ex

Hey guys, I would love to hear opinions on what I got going on right now. This doesn't have to do with my ex but actually a different girl I was talking to shortly after my relationship had ended. I'll just jump straight into it. It's gonna be bit long, but for those of you who stick it out, I greatly appreciate it.
So, 6 months ago in November my ex broke up with me. It was a 3 1/2 yr relationship. About 3 weeks after the breakup, I decided to ask out a girl who was in my class at the time. I genuinely actually liked her as a person prior to the breakup. She would just come hang/study with me every day before class, and I genuinely enjoyed being around her. I had no intentions of getting into anything with her but one time thought to myself that if I wasn't in a relationship I would totally ask her out and want to get to know her on a more personal level.
Well, low and behold, I was dumped and now actually had the opportunity to ask her out. Idk what I was thinking at time that made it seem like a good idea to go straight into dating after coming out of a 3 1/2 yr relationship 💀. But she said yes to going on a date. I told her we should wait till after finals, which she agreed to (we were in the last 2 weeks of the semester at that point, and the workload was crazy).
In this time, though, I was still in a lot of pain from my breakup and hurting. My ex was constantly on my mind. I was very emotionally unavailable to this new girl. I think to the point where she probably started having doubts by the time we finished the semester. I tried planning 1 date with her, and it didn't end up happening. It was around Xmas though and she had a lot of family stuff going on, which I understood. After Xmas passed, she messaged me apologizing for how busy she was and said we'd figure something out. I told her that was cool and just to let me know when she had time in her schedule. She said that was cool but never reached out about specifically about a date. But in this time her and I would message each other on instagram. We gamed online a little as well.
Once February hit and we hadn't gone on a date, I finally realized okay this is not going anywhere, and I was still deep in my healing process. Reality hit and I could see how not good the situation was that I was in. I never had told her about my breakup either. So by mid-February, I had lowered the amount of interaction to almost little to none hoping it would die out (terrible idea, I should have just communicated to her properly like an adult). But she would still send me stuff on Instagram, so I assumed okay is she still interested? So I messaged her and asked if she was still interested in going on a date, which she said yes to. I told her, though, that I wanted to talk to her over a call to talk about something important. I was going to be straight up to her about my breakup, which I felt was very important for her to know about if she were to invest anymore time into me. I didn't want to talk about it over text, though. She said she was busy atm so I told her it was okay and to let me know when she had some free time to talk. She said okay and I left it at that. I refused to take anything further without having that talk with her. She never reached out about the call but sent a reel here and there. I stopped replying to her and it finally just died out. I told myself I needed to just focus on me.
Fast forward to now. It's been 6 months after my breakup. I haven't had any contact whatsoever with my ex and could care less about anything that has to do with her, her life and what she does is none of my concern or business. I also haven't messaged the other girl since February. I've been committed to heavy personal growth and have detached and healed properly from my breakup. I've been working on my unadressed traumaus, attachment style, and anxiety by doing countless hours of workbooks, courses, and watching videos addressing my mental health and teaching me important skills that are required for a healthy relationship. I now feel like I am truly ready for another relationship.
Looking back on the situation I had started with the other girl, I feel so bad. I had no business asking her out at the time. I was completely in the wrong doing it. I was emotionally unavailable to her and probably came off like I didn't care much. She probably felt lots of mixed feelings cause of my mixed emotions and lack of effort/interest. And quiet frankly I don't blame her at all for how she was acting. I would be acting the same way in her position, having to deal with someone like me at the time.
Since then, I have run into her in person a few times, and we had decent short interactions. I would love to try again with her but properly. I just don't know if it's worth it. I already had put her through a rollercoaster, and we weren't even in a relationship. If I were to start up something again with her, I would want to have an actual conversation with her, apologize, and be straight up front about everything before moving anything forward just to clear things up (if she would even be open to the idea).
So I guess my question now would be, should I reach out to see if something can work? Or should I just leave it be? I don't care about being rejected, I'm just more afraid of disturbing her or making her upset or uncomfortable by reaching out. What's your guys' honest opinion and what would you do in this situation?
Thanks again for those who took the time read through all that. I greatly appreciate it :)
submitted by paradox914 to BreakUps [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:35 LucianoTheGamer nahhh jit trippin

nahhh jit trippin
if you own this we can't be friends
submitted by LucianoTheGamer to Naruto [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:13 paradox914 Opinions wanted on a new person who isn't my ex

Hey guys, I would love to hear opinions on what I got going on right now. This doesn't have to do with my ex but actually a different girl I was talking to shortly after my relationship had ended. I'll just jump straight into it. It's gonna be bit long, but for those of you who stick it out, I greatly appreciate it.
So, 6 months ago in November my ex broke up with me. It was a 3 1/2 yr relationship. About 3 weeks after the breakup, I decided to ask out a girl who was in my class at the time. I genuinely actually liked her as a person prior to the breakup. She would just come hang/study with me every day before class, and I genuinely enjoyed being around her. I had no intentions of getting into anything with her but one time thought to myself that if I wasn't in a relationship I would totally ask her out and want to get to know her on a more personal level.
Well, low and behold, I was dumped and now actually had the opportunity to ask her out. Idk what I was thinking at time that made it seem like a good idea to go straight into dating after coming out of a 3 1/2 yr relationship 💀. But she said yes to going on a date. I told her we should wait till after finals, which she agreed to (we were in the last 2 weeks of the semester at that point, and the workload was crazy).
In this time, though, I was still in a lot of pain from my breakup and hurting. My ex was constantly on my mind. I was very emotionally unavailable to this new girl. I think to the point where she probably started having doubts by the time we finished the semester. I tried planning 1 date with her, and it didn't end up happening. It was around Xmas though and she had a lot of family stuff going on, which I understood. After Xmas passed, she messaged me apologizing for how busy she was and said we'd figure something out. I told her that was cool and just to let me know when she had time in her schedule. She said that was cool but never reached out about specifically about a date. But in this time her and I would message each other on instagram. We gamed online a little as well.
Once February hit and we hadn't gone on a date, I finally realized okay this is not going anywhere, and I was still deep in my healing process. Reality hit and I could see how not good the situation was that I was in. I never had told her about my breakup either. So by mid-February, I had lowered the amount of interaction to almost little to none hoping it would die out (terrible idea, I should have just communicated to her properly like an adult). But she would still send me stuff on Instagram, so I assumed okay is she still interested? So I messaged her and asked if she was still interested in going on a date, which she said yes to. I told her, though, that I wanted to talk to her over a call to talk about something important. I was going to be straight up to her about my breakup, which I felt was very important for her to know about if she were to invest anymore time into me. I didn't want to talk about it over text, though. She said she was busy atm so I told her it was okay and to let me know when she had some free time to talk. She said okay and I left it at that. I refused to take anything further without having that talk with her. She never reached out about the call but sent a reel here and there. I stopped replying to her and it finally just died out. I told myself I needed to just focus on me.
Fast forward to now. It's been 6 months after my breakup. I haven't had any contact whatsoever with my ex and could care less about anything that has to do with her, her life and what she does is none of my concern or business. I also haven't messaged the other girl since February. I've been committed to heavy personal growth and have detached and healed properly from my breakup. I've been working on my unadressed traumaus, attachment style, and anxiety by doing countless hours of workbooks, courses, and watching videos addressing my mental health and teaching me important skills that are required for a healthy relationship. I now feel like I am truly ready for another relationship.
Looking back on the situation I had started with the other girl, I feel so bad. I had no business asking her out at the time. I was completely in the wrong doing it. I was emotionally unavailable to her and probably came off like I didn't care much. She probably felt lots of mixed feelings cause of my mixed emotions and lack of effort/interest. And quiet frankly I don't blame her at all for how she was acting. I would be acting the same way in her position, having to deal with someone like me at the time.
Since then, I have run into her in person a few times, and we had decent short interactions. I would love to try again with her but properly. I just don't know if it's worth it. I already had put her through a rollercoaster, and we weren't even in a relationship. If I were to start up something again with her, I would want to have an actual conversation with her, apologize, and be straight up front about everything before moving anything forward just to clear things up (if she would even be open to the idea).
So I guess my question now would be, should I reach out to see if something can work? Or should I just leave it be? I don't care about being rejected, I'm just more afraid of disturbing her or making her upset or uncomfortable by reaching out. What's your guys' honest opinion and what would you do in this situation?
Thanks again for those who took the time read through all that. I greatly appreciate it :)
submitted by paradox914 to nocontact [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:08 paradox914 Opinions wanted on situation with a new person that isn't my ex

Hey guys, I would love to hear opinions on what I got going on right now. This doesn't have to do with my ex but actually a different girl I was talking to shortly after my relationship had ended. I'll just jump straight into it. It's gonna be bit long, but for those of you who stick it out, I greatly appreciate it.
So, 6 months ago in November my ex broke up with me. It was a 3 1/2 yr relationship. About 3 weeks after the breakup, I decided to ask out a girl who was in my class at the time. I genuinely actually liked her as a person prior to the breakup. She would just come hang/study with me every day before class, and I genuinely enjoyed being around her. I had no intentions of getting into anything with her but one time thought to myself that if I wasn't in a relationship I would totally ask her out and want to get to know her on a more personal level.
Well, low and behold, I was dumped and now actually had the opportunity to ask her out. Idk what I was thinking at time that made it seem like a good idea to go straight into dating after coming out of a 3 1/2 yr relationship 💀. But she said yes to going on a date. I told her we should wait till after finals, which she agreed to (we were in the last 2 weeks of the semester at that point, and the workload was crazy).
In this time, though, I was still in a lot of pain from my breakup and hurting. My ex was constantly on my mind. I was very emotionally unavailable to this new girl. I think to the point where she probably started having doubts by the time we finished the semester. I tried planning 1 date with her, and it didn't end up happening. It was around Xmas though and she had a lot of family stuff going on, which I understood. After Xmas passed, she messaged me apologizing for how busy she was and said we'd figure something out. I told her that was cool and just to let me know when she had time in her schedule. She said that was cool but never reached out about specifically about a date. But in this time her and I would message each other on instagram. We gamed online a little as well.
Once February hit and we hadn't gone on a date, I finally realized okay this is not going anywhere, and I was still deep in my healing process. Reality hit and I could see how not good the situation was that I was in. I never had told her about my breakup either. So by mid-February, I had lowered the amount of interaction to almost little to none hoping it would die out (terrible idea, I should have just communicated to her properly like an adult). But she would still send me stuff on Instagram, so I assumed okay is she still interested? So I messaged her and asked if she was still interested in going on a date, which she said yes to. I told her, though, that I wanted to talk to her over a call to talk about something important. I was going to be straight up to her about my breakup, which I felt was very important for her to know about if she were to invest anymore time into me. I didn't want to talk about it over text, though. She said she was busy atm so I told her it was okay and to let me know when she had some free time to talk. She said okay and I left it at that. I refused to take anything further without having that talk with her. She never reached out about the call but sent a reel here and there. I stopped replying to her and it finally just died out. I told myself I needed to just focus on me.
Fast forward to now. It's been 6 months after my breakup. I haven't had any contact whatsoever with my ex and could care less about anything that has to do with her, her life and what she does is none of my concern or business. I also haven't messaged the other girl since February. I've been committed to heavy personal growth and have detached and healed properly from my breakup. I've been working on my unadressed traumaus, attachment style, and anxiety by doing countless hours of workbooks, courses, and watching videos addressing my mental health and teaching me important skills that are required for a healthy relationship. I now feel like I am truly ready for another relationship.
Looking back on the situation I had started with the other girl, I feel so bad. I had no business asking her out at the time. I was completely in the wrong doing it. I was emotionally unavailable to her and probably came off like I didn't care much. She probably felt lots of mixed feelings cause of my mixed emotions and lack of effort/interest. And quiet frankly I don't blame her at all for how she was acting. I would be acting the same way in her position, having to deal with someone like me at the time.
Since then, I have run into her in person a few times, and we had decent short interactions. I would love to try again with her but properly. I just don't know if it's worth it. I already had put her through a rollercoaster, and we weren't even in a relationship. If I were to start up something again with her, I would want to have an actual conversation with her, apologize, and be straight up front about everything before moving anything forward just to clear things up (if she would even be open to the idea).
So I guess my question now would be, should I reach out to see if something can work? Or should I just leave it be? I don't care about being rejected, I'm just more afraid of disturbing her or making her upset or uncomfortable by reaching out. What's your guys' honest opinion and what would you do in this situation?
Thanks again for those who took the time read through all that. I greatly appreciate it :)
submitted by paradox914 to ExNoContact [link] [comments]


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submitted by MortgageRich3613 to Statisticshelpers_ [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:02 TheMarketingNerd 9 systems my clients (they're coaches/experts) used to sell $12,000,000

I’m a business consultant who’s helped my clients sell over $12,000,000 of their courses/coaching/membership sites/masterminds/etc ⚡
How?
These are my top 9 sales systems we use to scale to $500,000+ per year without sales calls or a huge ad budget:
But before I break down these 9 systems for you, I need to make a quick disclaimer:
The #1 issue I see with Coaches who are failing to monetize their free audience is failing to understand their audience. Too many Coaches suffer from chronic ME SYNDROME: They keep posting complicated, or even sometimes downright wacky topics over and over again - somehow never noticing that these posts make 0 sales.
So if you keep failing to connect with their needs & desires, these systems won’t work for you. That’s something you need to fix first.
But if you’re like most of my clients, you don’t have a problem CONNECTING with your audience - you have a problem MONETIZING them.
And that’s exactly what the $1M Email Marketing Engine Framework fixes!
The best part is these $1M Email Marketing Engine systems is that they’re:
🟣 ACTIONABLE SYSTEMS: You can use it to increase the conversion rate of your marketing and sales assets immediately…
🟣 FLEXIBLE FOR ANY INDUSTRY: They’re adaptable enough to use in YOUR business so you can get more sales without spending more on ads or new team ASAP...

System #1 $1M Welcome Series

What is it: Get your 1st sale from new subscribers in 1 week
A) Go BEYOND introducing Leads to your free content… Introduce them to your Lead Magnets & Offers too
B) You can dedicate (minimum) 1 interesting “edu-tainment” email to EACH of your top Lead Magnets & Offers
C) In the emails, you can take either a “direct response” approach by telling a story leading into the transition for the featured LMs/Offers OR an “educational” approach where you give a fast + interesting “pre-Lesson” to what’s covered when they click to learn more
D) How long this system is will depend on how many worthwhile Offers (free + paid) you have to put in front of new subscribers
E) These emails are for a general audience who “just subscribed” to your list, so think of this conceptually as a “Greatest Hits Album” and give them your best stuff!

System #2 $1M Main Sales Series

What is it: Sell while you sleep
A) You should create a minimum of ONE SYSTEM FOR EVERY PAID PRODUCT
B) There are 6 main email formats in this system: “Introducing”, The Lesson, The Resource, The Proof, The Objection Killer, The Triple Close™
C) “Introducing”: A hard-sell email clearly about the offer, this email should explain the offer in its entirety (setting you up to talk about different parts of the value over the next emails), and can use either a straightforward/direct style or more of a “storytelling” style
D) The Lesson: Teach something that gives Leads a “quick win” that’s relevant to what you’re asking them to buy (this can either be something from the program, or it can be related “prep work”) + soft CTA
E) The Resource: Build trust by proving that you’re credible, link out to content you’ve either A) Created B) Been featured in C) Recommend (Cialdini “Persuasion Principle” of Reciprocity by giving them the good good) + soft CTA
F) The Proof: Testimonials, can either be 1 long one or several short ones + hard CTA
G) The Objection Killer: Can be an FAQ, or any other style but directed to addressing the most common objections
H) The Triple Close™: A technique I invented while working with a household-name influence (he’s a CAA speaker), a combination of 3 AM/PM/Late Nite on the final day - AM & PM being “hard sell” closes, and Late Nite focusing on FOMO
I) START creating 1 per product, feed back your new results, and created 2ND+ Main Sales Series per product over time

System #3 Abandon Cart+ Series

What is it: Recover up to 3x+ more buyers who ditch you during checkout
A) Most abandoned cart emails 1) start too late 2) give up too early
B) Contact them MULTIPLE TIMES on Day 1 (15m after, 1hr after, 8-12hrs after)
C) Contact them FOR MULTIPLE DAYS, like 2-5+ days afterwards
D) For the later touch points, focus on A) Testimonials B) Demonstrating the value/use cases

System #4 Review Series

What is it: Leverage your buyers to get more consistent social proof
A) ⬆️ 99% of people forget this
B) Include STEP-BY-STEP directions + links for exactly how/where you want to be reviewed
C) Try a 1-5 or :D : :( rating system where GOOD responses = hyperlinked to reviews and BAD responses = hyperlinked to an INTERNAL product improvement feedback form

System #5 Educational Cross-Sell Series

What is it: Automatically turn 1st time buyers into 2nd, 3rd, 4th+ buyers
A) Make sure EVERY unique product has its own tag in your CRM
B) Trigger based on “if you DON’T have this tag”
C) Can use your Main Sales Series for the different products for this purpose OR you can create unique systems SPECIFICALLY ADDRESSED to people who don’t buy the products based on the fact that they have your most common entry point (eg of the people who get your Best Seller, WHY DON’T THEY take the next step? What are their limiting beliefs?)

System #6 VIP Series

What is it: Build a tight-knit community who LOVES your brand
A) Ascend your biggest fans to your HT products
B) Evergreen your HT offers so that not only are you potentially making launches/live pushes for them during the year, but you’re ALSO automatically sending communications out to Clients who meet certain criteria
C) What % of your customers own 2 products? What % own 3? Keep going until you identify a “Top 10-ish%” - those are your VIPs (Here’s a real example from 1 of my clients: 1 Product = 63.7% 2 Products = 20.5% 3 Products = 15.2% 4 Products = .4% 5 Products = .3% ➡️ so their VIPs would be anyone who has 3+ products)

System #7 Winback Series

What is it: Reactivate lost Clients
A) Identify the timeframe for “lapsed client” that makes sense for your sales cycle
B ) Start by sending an exit survey to find out why they left
C) Offer a discount, or other special offer
D) Email them EARLY AND OFTEN (can start from 15m after the payment failure, providing a link to update their payment info)
E) Send emails that QUANTIFY YOUR VALUE, how do you save them money? How do you save them time? HOW MUCH money or time over 1 month, 3 months, or since they started? (Could do “since they started” with conditional formatting blocks to plan start date)
F) Incorporate social proof

System #8 Preventative Plan Cancellation Series

What is it: Avoid costly cancellations and reduce customer churn rate in subscription models
A) Now you know the “lapsed client” timeframe, contact them BEFORE that time period
B) Remind them of the value you provide
C) Offer a survey
D) Ask if they need to switch their plans or how your current offer is meeting their needs

System #9 Post-Optin Nurture Series

What is it: Specifically BRIDGES the Lead Magnet ➡️ to the next Offer in the Sales Process
A) Reverse engineer every Lead Magnet so that it’s directly relevant to 1 of your products
B) Create a mini-onboarding series that ties what value they got out of the Lead Magnet to selling the product the LM corresponds to
SO are you missing any of these systems? If you already have them, which can be better? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this in the comments.
If you found this helpful, make sure to add me as a friend on Reddit + join /MarketingNerd so we can keep in touch!
Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions :D
submitted by TheMarketingNerd to MarketingNerd [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:50 otterlyadorable21 33 [F4R] Indiana. Just casting a line to see who's out there

This isn't my first R4R post, and it's not likely to be my last if the past is any indicator of how this could go 😅 But I'm cautiously optimistic, so here goes nothing.
I'm fairly new to being a single woman living alone. I'm recently divorced and figuring out what life on my own looks like. Some days are better than others. I just bought a house, and spend a good portion of my free time working on making it mine & planning future projects. I love Taylor Swift an insufferable amount, but I have eclectic taste in music and we're likely to find some common ground there. I also enjoy hiking, collecting pretty rocks, reading, and crafty stuff.
Looks wise, I'm average height (5'5) and chubby in a cute way (if you're into that. No need to be mean if not please). Dark hair, pale as fuck, green eyes. I'd define my style as "alternative art teacher" or "weird aunt that everyone gets along with." Haha
I like to talk to someone consistently, but the chemistry has to be right, ya know? Even if it's not romantic chemistry, it's so nice to look at your phone and be excited for that little notification icon. I want that sort of connection with someone. I'd like to find a romantic connection, but I understand things need to move much slower in that department, so I'm looking for friends first.
I like men who are taller than me, older than me, and smarter than me. I like women who breathe oxygen and are kind.
Eastern time zone & within driving distance of Indiana is a necessity for me. I've struggled with a lot of people who can't/don't want to meet in person and I don't want any excuses for that to happen. If it can't be in real life, I can't give it my energy anymore.
submitted by otterlyadorable21 to R4R30Plus [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:49 nicalexh Is it even worth asking?

Hi all-
My partner and I rent a 3 bedroom house in Letterkenny, we’ve been here for about 7 months now. In the contract, it states “no animals without written consent” and we took this as we could have pets we would just need to let the landlord know. Obviously we should’ve asked them about this at the time but we didn’t plan on getting any pets for a while.
Well a few months ago we were going to get a puppy. We talked to the office about it, the landlord said he would ask his wife and then apparently she had said no. Understandable, but the house has hardwood floors and a front and back garden. The furniture that was in the house when we moved in is safely stored in a spare room that we only occasionally use for guests and wouldn’t ever be in contact with any pet.
Would it be worth offering a pet rent and stating we would cover any damages that may be caused by a pet? Would it just get on their nerves? We’ve never had any issues here and always pay rent on time - we figure the worst they can say is no but are also worried about annoying them.
Before anyone asks- we have considered hiding a pet but we seem to have a good relationship with the staff here and we don’t want to risk angering them.
Any advice?
submitted by nicalexh to AskIreland [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:41 MisterAmmosart Trip Report: 05/05 - 05/17. Mainly Tokyo. IIDX traveling in Kanto. Long post.

Freshly back and awake after a twelve day stint for my first time there. I knew that I wanted to go in general, and while I didn't have a firm itinerary planned out, there was one main goal that I had in terms of sites within the country. The main video game that I play is Beatmania IIDX, and it has internal trophies which are represented as badges. Your profile allows you to assign up to five of them as visible when you start a new round, and there are badges to earn for playing at least one round in every prefecture in Japan, as well as every subregion. Getting the Kanto badge meant that I needed to play at least one round in Tokyo, Kanagawa, Saitama, Gunma, Tochigi, Ibaraki, and Chiba. After five days, I had that complete, and now I have a permanent record of this trip within the game itself. There was also a time-limited event to earn points in IIDX in order to exchange them for goods, such as a hat, or a towel, or a new account card and a poster, and I managed to get that taken care of in somewhat dramatic fashion. I did some other things too.
Primary general points
· Getting Suica set on the phone and using it was generally painless. There were only two times where I needed to summon the help of a resident JR employee to clear up an issue with the gate not reading the card for some reason.
· Most vocal interaction which I had was the opposite of painless, because I continuously kept trying to speak Japanese and failing, and most people would realize that I was completely failing at it and responded with English (some with full on sentences, others with just a few words). There were a few rare times that I was able to express my intent in Japanese, receive a response, understand the response, and reply as necessary, but that was rare. Once English was invoked, I would stay with it, because that's what they were expecting. I've been self-studying the language for more than twenty years in varying degrees of intensity, and while my reading comprehesion seemed sufficient enough for this trip, and while I didn't expect my speaking to be as good because I don't have any opportunity to practice speaking, I came away bitterly disappointed in my vocal and speaking comprehension in terms of my interaction with people there. Even within the trip I could at least overhear common chitchat better, but any time I needed to converse with someone for some reason, I usually needed to have things repeated several times and broken down before I finally realized what was being said.
· You are going to be asked about separately buying a bag with every non-food purchase. Accept or immediately present one that you are carrying to indicate how your purchase shall be bagged.
· I never once had my passport requested for presentation.
· Only once did a person volutnarily reach out to address me, and it was just to ask me where I was from in English. Otherwise, everyone left me alone the entire time.
· Weather through the period was ideal. Mid to upper 70F/25C range and only a few days where it was rainy, and even then it wasn't a downpour. A while ago I personally resolved to only wear suits in public and I purchased a new pair of Mephisto shoes after hearing reports of the extensive walking causing problems for traveller's feet and shoes. My attire help up well; there were only a few times that I needed to avoid sunlight to not get too hot, and I have no issues to report from the shoes.
· I only got X'd out of a restaurant one time, and I think it's only because I wandered into it before it was ready for service. Otherwise, I never once waited in line for food, I never once went to restaurant more than once, and all food was acceptably priced for the portion and excellent for the quality.
For these per-day recounts, I wrote them contemporaneously at the end of each day, so you'll need to forgive me for some writing being in present tense and other writing being in past tense.
Day 1 - Travel, Sugamo, Ikebukuro
Non stop flight from Chicago OHare to Haneda. 12 hours. Good thing I usually don't watch movies, because that just means that all I needed to do was binge a few to make the trip go by.
Pre-trip research led me to choose APA Sugamo as my home base for the visit, and I think that it was a very fortuitious choice. I'll have more to say about it later.
Some awkward encounters happened right away upon checking in here. I was at the nearby Family Mart to buy some things and I didn’t catch that he was making sure I wanted a bag until he repeated it five times. Yes, I’ll take it. Before getting there I was coming down to ground level after checking into my room, and when that person saw that I would have been the only other person going down to the ground, they ducked right back out. I was warned on both of these kinds of things happening, so I guess it’s good to have that immediately out of the way. It would turn out that people deliberately avoiding me was rare throughout the trip.
Despite not sleeping on the trip, I had freshly arrived and had no sense of being tired, so once I had my stuff down, I went off to Ikebukuro right away. No picture or video truly conveys how crowded these areas can get. It can only be experienced in person to be understood.
I soon found Round One Ikebukruo and went right in. So dense and loud. It’s entirely alien to me to see no less than ten IIDX machines in operation and all of them in use. I dumped the money into random tickets, as I foresaw doing, but now I have to wonder if that was the right thing to do, or if it’s tied to that location. I guess I’ll find out.
The forecast is for rain so I need to be in a hurry to figure out where I’m going to go. There might be only one day left for me to get my time limited toys.
Day 2 - Kawasaki, Kanagawa - Utsunomiya, Tochigi - Oomiya, Saitama
My body decided that it only needed four hours of sleep this morning. Without doing more research, I somehow decided to assume that more of the Round One locations were close to 24 hours of operation much like Ikebukuro. Answer: no. I hopped on the train early and went to Shibuya first, but it was very quiet, so I decided to get some of the travels out of the way today and headed south to Kawasaki. I still needed to dawdle for a while until Silk Hat opened at 900AM, and when I finally was able to get inside, I was only able to verify that their store had several allotments of the campaign goods and all allotments were out. Played one round on a monitor that was surprisingly blurry, and I don’t know why that would be the case with a lightning model, but it was, so that was enough.
After doing all of that, I resolved to try to go to Chiba and Ibaraki afterwards. I figured that with Kanagawa and Tokyo likely all out, going to the outskirts would make more sense. However, there was an injury on one of the rails that threw everything off normal, and the train I found myself riding was bound for Utsunomiya instead. Seeing as how I was going to go there eventually, I rolled with it.
It doesn’t take too long to move away from Tokyo metropolitan area before you encounter more forest like areas and rice paddy fields. Halfway through the trip I noticed that two older women suddenly hopped off while the train was waiting to go to the next stop, and I followed them when I realized they found the express line. Utsunomiya has a substantial size to its area and buildings but it was very quiet on the streets there in midday. Walked a mile to Sega GIGO, found that they didn’t even have the goods tracker up. All out. Interesting buliding for it having several neon signs, all vintage and authentic at that. Getting to there from the south meant cutting through Saitama, so I knew I had enough time to make one last attempt there. Research shown two stores being near Oomiya station, so that’s where I ended up. Taito Station was immediately visible upon exit, and they have two IIDX machines specifically with 20 gram springs, which is closer to my home setup and that much lighter than standard 50 gram springs. The final hour drew near and I made one last visit to that city’s Round One. Unlike nearly every other place I went to so far, it only had one IIDX machine. However, and maybe because of that, their goods listing didn’t show everything as out. One painful language exchange later, I was able to discern that what I wanted was available. When you spend more than 3000 yen in a single credit, the game wants to verify if you really want to proceed. It does it again at 6000 and 9000. Yes, I really do. But, having made that money dump I was able to get my hands on the e-amuse card and poster with fifteen minutes left before the deadline. Mission complete. By this point in the day it was exceedingly difficult to even look at the screen so I was ready to come home, but not before getting some goods at the Oomiya Book Off and redeeming what I could for points at Round One Ikebukuro. By the end of the day the only thing that I could tolerate doing was to buy some chicken and nigiri from the nearby train station. Good enough. At that point in the day my body felt like it wants to rock back and forth after all the train riding done today. But, it ended up being worthwhile after all.
One nostalgic feeling I had the most strongly in the day was at the Utsunomiya location where the smell of it triggered past buried memories of yesteryear. I think I want to attribute it to the stronger second hand cigarette smell but I’m not sure - all the same I felt its presence strongly there. Also, I don’t see Oomiya (or really Saitama itself) mentioned as a fun place to go, but it might serve as an acceptable alternative to Ikebukuro, only not as massive in scale of human quantity. Depending on how the trip goes in total I may end up back there for IIDX playing, at least if I don’t find any other place that has 20G springs.
Day 3 - Akihabara
With the travels out of the way, it was time to keep things more regionalized and stick to one area, and there is shopping that needs to be done, so it was off to Akihabara and to see how much of other posted tales hold true. The answer is that it is a lot of it. Kotobukiya can stand to open sooner than noon. Super Potato is indeed priced for a market which wants to snap up anything cheap - I at least found Xi for under 500 and felt that it would have been a bit silly to buy only that, but it didn’t make spending 2000 on one single issue of Arcadia any better. I had no idea that Hey Arcade was right next to both of them; while it was assuredly nice to be there and see the row of Cave shooters among everything else, something got messed up with my registration of my new eamuse card with everything else, so that quickly added to my stress. Having to carry around a few hundred dollars worth of crap with every step didn’t help matters. At least I was able to help a person recover their lost phone by applying a bit of logic to the situation and deducing it to belong to the only person there who looked French, as it was on the Lock Screen. They were relieved, yes. Then, rain came, and it was more than I was anticipating, and I left the umbrella at the room, particularly since I knew I’d be shopping this day. It also turns out to have not mattered much, because I went to visit Bic Camera so that I could get myself a hair trimmer while here, and that turned into me finding a bunch of Kit Kats available, so that meant a second bag. The wind kicked out the rain and my umbrella. In trying to get as many gifts secured as possible, I found some gachapon, but it needed 100Y coins, and I didn’t need paper money in the trip yet. After fighting with maps, I found an ATM to get cash, and got the gachapon. I came home late with feeling rather crushed about the day in that I couldn’t take pictures very well with having to juggle weather and bagging considerations. There were some nice parts of the experience to be sure but between that and more gawking at Super Potato pricing ($135 for PS3 Caladrius? $6000 for Pulstar?) and seeing similar markups on other goods, I don’t think it’s unfair to say that there is a reputation that this area carries and the pricing is there to go with it.
Day 4 - Laundry Day. Shibuya, Harajuku, Shinjuku
I was so drained at the end of Day 3 that I fell asleep on the bed immediately after ending the night call, which meant that I woke up at 0200AM to a room that was fully lit. This meant that I needed to look up how to resolve my eamuse problem or else I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I did both. Awake at 0800AM meant that I had time to do laundry while I figured out what to do with the rest of the day. This meant that I was able to get more of Sugamo in pictures, and it was nice to be able to walk among the actual residences, and do other things like come across a school as it was actually in session. With them being close by and all in succession, I figured to get Shibuya, Harajuku, and Shinjuku visited. It turns out to have been a good day for it, as the temperature was perfectly cool and no rain came, and the sun came out only for a little bit. Shibuya somehow doesn’t seem quite as large in scope in person but the crowds were definitely there, and it is much more hilly than I anticipated as well. After wandering around and not seeing any arcade for a bit, I came across a series of coffee and cookie shops and remained strong to not indulge. It was there while looking at a Disney store (which gets tourists to take pictures of it for some reason) that the song Alone Again came on through the nearby public speakers. What timing. It drove me to finally get a treat for myself, and the frozen latte (black sesame and houji) and croissant (dark chocolate filing) were certainly good, it ended up costing more than the dinner I’d have later this day. I found a seclusion with a garbage can to eat the food and not carry the trash around, then an arcade soon after, and it was time to determine if I could fix the problem. Just like an easy click, it was. New to trash. Old to new. Done. Why did it have to be this way. Harajuku came next, and the environment there was distinct. This one in particular felt like it was an extended carnival atmosphere with the single tight knit market street and emphasis on fashion. A conversation with a freelance artist in the subway actually went well enough that I didn’t feel dumb. The same sensation carried to Shinjuku as well, only it was more spread out. Kabuki street was interesting to see in person, and I didn’t get any unseemly vibes from the place. Maybe it’s different later at night. A return home at a reasonable time allowed me to go down Sugamo’s market street a bit; most of it was closed, but it was interesting to come across the few remaining stores that were open by 0800PM, and more so the one that wasn’t. Coming back to the hotel I found a 24 hour ramen shop with nobody inside. The chef didn’t want to speak and only pointed to the ordering kiosk when I addressed her. The food came through a slot in the obscured window. At least her thank you as I left was a bit more warm, and the food was certainly delicious. To match with the matcha dessert that I bought from Sugamo station, I swung by a 7Eleven to get a drink, and found a milk tea for cheaper than a vending machine. The overhead music in the store was an instrumental version of Alone Again.
Day 5. Ibaraki - Mount Tsukuba, Miraidaira. Kashiwa, Chiba. Akihabara 2.
Awake at 0500AM on my own and knowing the current forecast meant that my envisioned plan for the day was quickly realized. Reaching the Tsukuba Express starting point from Akihabara needs you to get very far down into the ground before getting out into sunlight. I was on the ride early enough to see schoolchildren going about their commute, some of them being no older than ten and going about it unaccompanied. The people of Tsukuba seemed to be particularly helpful and cheerful that day, even despite my Suica issues at the gate. I didn’t ask his name at the counter but the man at the service desk was eager to speak with me about my career and what I was doing there. One asked where I was from on the way up to the summit and another caught my cable car ticket on the way down. There had to have been a few of them who saw my doing this climb in my business attire and thinking me to be a complete idiot if not outright mocking them for doing it that way while they employed the use of dual walking sticks and the like. I know I read some reports of the home stretch being difficult, but it did get pretty close to being an actual rock climb instead of a trail hike for that part of it. A quick stop to Miraidaira on the way back to get the Ibaraki play. The way the town center greets you upon leaving the rail gate struck me as incredible, as well as for how quiet it was. It was like walking onto a movie set. I did find the sweet shop after the play, and that was another painful interaction yet again. Oh well. Two quick stops down Tsukuba Express and one across from Tobu Urban Park line was enough to have a toe in Chiba, and I didn’t even need to leave the physical building of the train station to get to the basement level to find a machine for a play. Thank you, Kashiwa, you were great. Gunma is all that’s left. The descent from Tsukuba did take some earnest exertion, and after doing that the two stops, that put me back in Akihabara about when I anticipated; what I failed to anticipate is how much that place seems to drain on me. I think I just need to eat at an actual dinner time. Once I got back to Sugamo and had food it was a bit better, but while in Akihabara and being around that environment, and not finding things on a shopping list, I found myself just standing still and watching life pass me by. I hemmed and hawed a while for a maid girl’s hour of service for chitchat, but eventually I talked myself out of it because I just didn’t want potential trouble, just like her name. Komaru. I thought about doing this once just to say that I did, but I ultimately decided against it. You cannot go to this place with the expectation that you will find anything unless it is advertised and new. If you are looking for anything used, don’t count on it being there. You also cannot go there without having a strong resolve to not engage with the touts, because it becomes disheartening to see them do their job and blankly stare at the world when they're forced to stand out there and do nothing. Back to Sugamo to find a place that advertised Wagyu but the price they wanted was more than I wanted to spend. The ramen and seaweed & rice servings were fine, but they advertised endless drink and I didn’t receive that. All for $20? No, son. I did better than that elsewhere, I’ll know better now. Long day.
Day 6 - Tokyo Flea Market, Nakano Broadway, Ueno.
The weather couldn’t have been better for this weekend. I’ve read reports that the flea market held near the horse race track will be arbitrarily cancelled regardless of what is reported on the website, but my gut instinct told me that it would occur today, and it did. Turns out that a flea market is a flea market which is a flea market, no matter where it happens. Same allotment of clothes and stuff that few people really want to buy, although I was able to find myself some neckties at least. I probably overpaid based on what I saw later in the route, but that’s fine. They look nice. I settled on some shot glasses for a gift as well, but I’m surprised that I can’t ind something ornate that isn’t part of a sake set. Seated in the shade with a chocolate churro while rap music played in the background - it’s like I never left home. A woman came to sit across from me for the sake of sitting down; she was from Holland and today’s her last day in the country. Her husband came with food eventually. She had three weeks here and went to several places (allegedly, she didn’t list them out) and I asked her about Nakano Broadway. She didn’t make it there. It’s a good thing that I did - this is probably the kind of environment and market that people expect of Akihabara now, and maybe that’s how Aki was years ago, but it’s different from this. What’s more interesting is that Mandarake has a larger presence here than in Akihabara (so it seems to me), and their stores had floor after floor of any and every kind of pop culture product that’s been made in the past sixty years at least. Buttress that with extensive watch and jewelry stores and a slender arcade in the basement, and it’s a very well centralized microcosm of the country’s economy on the whole. I actually made a point to have dinner earlier than usual this time and found a place to serve some deep fried pork cuts served with rice and soup on the side. It was enough, and very well made. The day had not ended and my bag was heavy with several books purchased there, so I reported back to base briefly and decided to try visiting somewhere else, and settled on Ueno. Just as I arrived, a festival was underway where local teams of people made an elaborate show of carrying a home made shrine to a temple. Streets were officially blocked by police to allow the procession. In following the line I came up against makeshift food and amusement stands with the traditional toy gun shooting and goldfish catching. It appears that this is an official “start of summer” festival and I was able to watch it all happen in front of me. That was the good part of the day.
Day 7 - Tachikawa / Kunitachi. Shinjuku 2.
One of the games that I've never played is Beatmania III The Final. I've played some BM3 7th Mix years ago, but not The Final. I found a location that has one - World Game Circus in Tachikawa. In looking around that area before the trip, I saw that there was a nearby shinkansen museum, and not much else, so I figured that going to both places would make that walk worthwhile. Turns out that it wasn’t a museum in the proper sense of a dedicated building. Rather, it was a bullet train engine car on the side of a building that was unrelated, and that was it. A cute interaction happened here - when I approached the car, I heard some children running around inside, so I approached cautiously without knowing if I was encroaching upon someone else's alloted time or something. Once the children saw me, they gave a hearty irrashaimase as I entered, and the boy stamped a paper and presented it to me. Perfect. Despite it not being a typical musem, the card did have some interesting content, and it's good to see some kind of commemoration for their achievements and progression in that industry regardless. They have a lot to be proud about there. Off to WGC. Maps wasn’t lying about the walk taking twenty minutes. It's a good thing that I looked it up on streetview beforehand, because I otherwise would have walked right past it without knowing it was there. Then there it was, and there I confronted a past that I couldn’t visit again. Sure, I got to play BM3 The Final at last, but my timing was off, my hands were off, there wasn’t much I could do. Along with that I can say that I’ve played on a Beatmania II cabinet, and that was better than 5th Style at least. But that was it, that was all I could stand to do. It was right there and I couldn’t bear to put up with it more than a few rounds at best. Dream big, because only disappointment follows if your smaller dreams ever are fulfilled. I don’t know why finding IKEA back in Shinjuku was so difficult, but it took a while. I bought a bag, and then I bought a bag because the other bag was at the end of the register, which makes sense. I did feed myself before getting back to the Taito station to play some songs, but it still wasn’t good enough. All thumbs. Ended the day with laundry since the timing worked. Speaking of making dreams big, it’s time to cross another one off the list tomorrow. I can’t wait.
Day 8 - Takasaki, Gunma. Oomiya, Saitama 2.
It’s a good thing that I only needed to get to Ikebukuro to transfer over to the next stop, because that’s where that particular run ended for some reason. I wonder what was up. Speaking of things getting messed up on trains, I managed to find my way on a train that needed a separate ticket, which I didn't have. The conductor found me right away and had me disembark at Uraja for me to wait for the proper transfer. The weather forecast said there’d be rain, and the travel forecast said it would take two hours to get there, and neither lied. I feel like I had more people staring at me in Gunma than other places. I will say that I found the Takasaki station area to be rather charming, with the stores that it had inside and the emphasis on the music culture there. It’s one thing to offer a piano to the public to play, but it’s another to have a public willing to use it. This location had both. Having what was essentially a Bic Camera built into the facility was a nice touch too. The Leisure Land arcade was sandwiched between other floors that had its own offering of gaming stuff, so that was an unexpected bit of a fun thing to look through. The area was clean and sparsely populated, and it wasn’t picked clean of all matter of things that would normally get snapped up, so that was interesting. Finally, I made it over to the machine. They had separate fans for each location. I got the songs and then the medals came, and that’s that. Kantou Seiou. I would have stayed a bit longer but I wanted to have the medals show up right away, and my internet wasn’t cooperating, so that’s all I could do. I think there was an Internet cafe that I could have used in the facility, but I didn’t want to deal with an awkward conversation. I did get some Lawson on the way out, as well as some trinkets from the local Gunma-chan store as well as some mini croissants and some macademia cookie things. More vocal awkwardness. Omiya was one of the stops on the way back, and I found a place to serve omrice, so that’s another one off the list. No shoes allowed inside. The value wasn’t there but the service was good enough, as was the flavor. The machines with the 20G springs are indeed legit. Back home in time for some McDonalds, and that’s another food-checklist item marked off. Takoyaki mayo dipping sauce - somehow it’s both salty and sweet. While returning to the hotel, I did happen to encounter an argument amongst two teenaged locals where the guy ended up half-heartedly kicking the girl and getting her to cry. I wonder what their argument was about. I didn’t play hero, but someone else did so enough to prevent an escalation and called the police over.
Day 9 - Sugamo, Tokyo Sky Tree, Akihabara 3, Kanda
Up early enough to decide that I should at least visit the Sky Tree while I'm there just to say that I did, and that I should visit the Sugamo street market upon its open since it was right there in front of me. I'm glad to have done so. With everything open, this felt more like what one would think to expect from a flea market environment that's operated and supported by the local populace. Small stores were open both sides of the street that go on for many blocks, and some tents and tables were set up to sell second hand goods as well. I was able to find someone selling a US Morgan dollar and he wanted only 2000Y for it, so that was an easy buy. If I would have known better to anticipate this area, I wouldn't have felt compelled to buy kitchy tourist crap that is expected as gifts elsewhere. If you are looking for a place to idly shop around that doesn't get extremely crowded and has an authentic local feel to it, consider making a point to come here. Off to Sky Tree. Getting the combo ticket for the second deck was worth it just for the lack of crowds on the upper area. If you're going to come here, consider getting a phone selfie stick or something of the kind so that you can take pictures against the windows without the structure scaffolding obstructing your view. On the subject of shopping again, this might be another area to consider visiting just for the sake of the specialty stores to be found here, such as those for chopsticks or hairpins. To close out the day, my wife reminded me to look for something from the Square Enix cafe, so that meant swinging by Akihabara yet again. Since it is within a walkway, it was a bit of a pain to find this place even with using maps, but I eventually found it and got what she wanted to find. Played some IIDX at Game Panic, which was surprisingly small and the one machine that was avaialble to play had some 2P turntable issues, so that didn't last all that long. Dinner was at a nearby place that specalized in tofu, so that was a good ramen serving with that infused. For the evening, I wandered south to Kanda to get night pictures, and found it to feel pretty similar to Ueno.
Day 10 - Ginza, Tokyo, Kanda & Akihabara 4
Launrdry in the morning. I also wanted to say that I went to Ginza in my time here, and I didn't research anywhere to go to keep it a surprise. It was a bit warmer and sunnier than usual that day, and I stuck to the main road for most of the walk, so I can't say that I found too many points of the interest along the path that I walked starting from Yurakucho station and heading out that way. High class store for high class people, and that's too rich for my peasant blood. Similarly for Tokyo proper itself, I suppose I'd have to needed to wander far away from the Yamanote vicinity to find points of interest there, as I didn't encounter anything that was remarkably distinctive here in comparison to other areas that I have previously seen. Continuing north across Nihonbashi brought me to Kanda and eventually to Akihabara yet again, as if it was a magnet that pulled me inside every time. For the sake of trying a different place I chose to play some IIDX at the Leisure Land arcade there, and I'm glad to have done that, as those machines were probably in the best coniditon that I encountered within that area. Dinner was at Tenkaippin, which I didn't realize until after I placed the order was cash only. The clerk didn't request it beforehand but I voluntarily left my passport there to show that I would return, and promptly went to the same ATM that I had found days prior in order to get the cash to pay for the bill.
Day 11 - Haneda T3, Nishi Nippori, Nippori, Uguisuidani, Otsuka, Shibuya, Shinjuku, Ikebukruo, home.
The end. I resolved to take the subway over to Haneda today to get the one luggage over there and stored, and it’s a good thing that I did - there’s no easy solution for getting over there without encountering a crowd. If anything I wonder if Yamanote is actually better. Regardless, I got that much done. With the day left to go, I ventured to Nishi Nippori and I needed to summon the map several times to make sure I found the location, as it was as obscure as it could get. Just a sign on the ground for the third floor, a stairway that led to the back, an elevator that had no decoration, a single room that housed everything. Arcade PCB kits on shelves, joystick panels in exposed boxes, nicotine odor from years past - it was like I was transported to 1995 upon entry, beyond the fact that the games weren’t as old. Most of them, they did have a lot going for SF3 3rd yet. I was able to take care of some game business in a hurry since I was the only one there. It was a very pleasant respite for play in comparison to most of the other sessions. The region itself felt much the same as this arcade - old and well worn, as in well lived. Venturing south to Nippori led me to stumble upon a shrine and cemetery just by following some stairs. Usuigudani was cleaner but mostly had hotels as points of interest. Back home to buy some mochi while mochi was for sale in midday. Then to Otsuka, thinking that I would wander to Ikebukuro, but I ended up wandering back to Sugamo instead. Whoops. Meal at Sugamo, then back out to return to Shibuya and Shinjuku at night to catch evening shots, when I hadn’t done so before at these places. Good thing I did that to get Golden Gai area shots at night. With the night winding down, I decided to have one last IIDX play at Round 1 in Ikebukuro to symbolically end where I started.
Ending arcade comments
· Although the upkeep is generally better and more consistent than the US, some machines will have hardware issues here too. I was surprised by the blurriness with some of the LM IIDX machines.
· Densha De Go on the propert large cabinet is nice but quickly becomes very expensive.
· Bombergirl is OK enough and having the dedicated detonator button that pops up for hitting the base is a cute touch.
· Chase Chase Jokers feels rather clunky and I'm not sure what the game is trying to do. Interesting side screen concept at least.
· Nostalgia is delightful and would probably find a small fanbase worldwide if it had more exposure.
· Favorite IIDX locations are Taito Station in Oomiya for the light keys and Leisure Land Akihabara for the high quality of the LMs there. Honorable mention goes to the Game Versus loctation in Nishi Nihonbashi, but that might not be worth it for a dedicated trip unless you go there first thing in the morning.
Ending overall comments
This was a life altering trip for me, as would be expected. While I'm glad to have made the journey, as to be expected, I will only want to return after making an extensive redoubled effort into speaking and hearing comprehension, because I know that I came across like a blubbering idiot so many times, and it's truly aggravating because I generally know what I want to say and most of the words that are used to say it, but it just doesn't come out of my mouth properly when it needs to be done.
I welcome any questions you may have, as that will help for me to recall the memories and have me write them down.
submitted by MisterAmmosart to JapanTravel [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:33 StillWerewolf1292 Best ideas for this floorplan

I'm looking at a 1 bedroom apartment that also has a small loft that meets my needs. Basically starting from scratch, I need assistance with what everyone thinks would be the best furniture to fill this small place I will call home. The loft will most likely be my home office, any nice setups will be much appreciated there.
Where I am really struggling is the living room and dining area since it is a small space. All I have is the attached floor plan and no actual photos since I haven't 100% secured the place yet.
https://preview.redd.it/tbkrvtfwl81d1.png?width=588&format=png&auto=webp&s=06a85a08c5c74f6f20acc51381b2200fe4af36c7
submitted by StillWerewolf1292 to DesignMyRoom [link] [comments]


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submitted by Azurecertificates to Statisticshelpers_ [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:25 Spooker0 The Next Line Will Hold (Human Military Advisors)

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

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

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

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

Meta

Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)
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2024.05.18 21:24 RickSubTricDeckard Oddly specific question - Bossk build for old 2.0 event.

Hi all,
I'm playing in a unique format event with friends (10 players) which has taken place over the last month and I'm down to the final three. I'm having some trouble with working out my best shot of winning this thing and am stuck between two options...
The format is 'snapshot' (2.0 using the last FFG points list and FAQ - imagine the FFG era never ended, but also never got updated with new ships). Fleets have to be 2 pilots only and you can only change 2 upgrades between each game, keeping the same 2 pilots constantly.
I've done great and have been loving the list of Boba + Bossk. I REALLY want to win this thing (I never win anything) and can't quite nail down the odds on either of these options. I should note that I've tried both already - both were good, but I can't really call it. I need put from veteran players.
The dialmma is with the Bossk build. The plan is to get a crit every turn, so here is the build...
Bossk, Perceptive Copilot, Lando, Contraband Cybernetics, PLUS...
  1. BT-1 + Marksmanship (1 point spare)
  2. Greedo + Hull Upgrade
This is a full aggro style and works painfully well. I'm rerolling 2 dice every turn, which helps find that crit, but other wise, BT-1 gives me one if the target is stressed and Marksmanship if I get a bullseye. Both are rare occurrences, but they do happen, so have value. If I go for Greedo, however, I can get one pretty much every time, BUT I'm almost exclusively flaying against I5 and 6 (look like the final three are me, Han+Wedge and Han+Luke), meaning I'm giving EVERY shot against him a free crit upgrade. This fact is mitigated slightly by the fact that Boba is often a more viable and dangerous target as it's only 2 ship fleets.
So - do I go with the consistency and know that I'm likely to die faster or have a rough time when targeted, or go for the less consistent option and pray those rerolls do most of the work, and capitalise on the other opportunities when they arise?
Thanks for your input!
submitted by RickSubTricDeckard to XWingTMG [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:15 bejoes I did a DnD IKEA oneshot for my IKEA colleagues

I've been into DnD for years and years, listening to DnD podcasts and playing every other week with a group for 1,5 years now. And since several of my colleagues are geeks like me but had never had the chance to play I offered to DM for them. I had a couple of weeks of sick leave, so plenty of time to plan something special. Why I chose IKEA as the battleground: because I like to troll my friends. Also, again, they had never played before and I thought it would make it easier to improvise if they were familiar with the surroundings.
I think it was a pretty basic labyrinth setup; mimics in the living room department, spiders in the beds, goblins in the wardrobes... I even nicked one of the 'find the alien' floor plans they give kids at the ball pit for reference. But of course I sprinkled plenty of IKEA references throughout.
I started the session saying it was a late evening after a sunday opening (we were playing on a sunday), and everyone present was still working when bam! blackout. When the lights came back on, all the customers still present were gone, but there was some furniture oddly carrying the same name where they once were. I made Ingvar (the founder of IKEA) appear Tom Bombadil-style (I mean, he's yellow and blue all over anyway) and explain that there were some bad angry customer vibes. Apparently this happens every now and again in IKEAs all over the world, and that after meeting Gary Gygax in the great beyond he'd come up with a system of eliminating this evil force by turning the IKEA in question in a temporary dungeon, turning all the customers temporarily into furniture and the evil energy into monsters that could safely (ahem) be dealt with.
My players were allowed any improvised weapons they could find. Pencils for darts were along the line I was thinking, but one of them collected every fire extinguisher he could get his hands on, and another rolled exceptionally well and got herself a nail gun. I also lifted the phone system from the podcast Dungeons and Daddies where they had to roll if they wanted to use them.
Many shenanigans were had. Mostly because I thought I had considered every short cut and secret passage known to IKEA workers - except for that VERY important one behind the showcase for the solar panels that heads straight down to the lower level of course.
At the cafetaria they could have a short rest, but to get there they had to answer three IKEA trivia questions from Geralt of Trivia (DaDaddies is a very good podcast okay). Once answered, they could get drinks with a variety of effects and get some more information where this evil energy originated from (customer service, duh).
Market hall was overgrown with evil vines. The floor was SNURRAD (tik-tok-hyped lazy susan for in your fridge) in a hall in the self service area, but if they conquered it they got themselves a fork lift.
After the cashline, at customer service, they got their first hint of what their goal was: one computer was still working, showing info on an item that has not been sold in many years: the DUVBO kitchen doors.
True story: this line was discontinued because of the bad quality. Guess which store they forgot to inform at the time? Ours. When did this happen? Right when they changed from FAKTUM kitchens to METOD kitchens. So anyone returning their doors not only needed a different kind of doors, but an entirely different kind of kitchen, because the new cabinets came in different sizes. This cost our store a LOT of money. Eldritch nightmare item: check. What did our companions find on the computer screen? That there was still one in the system in the depot.
Down to the lower levels they went. I nicked a puzzle straight out of Tomb of Horrors especially for them (relax - it only teleported them right back to the start) and had one of my player's girlfriend who also works at our store save them batman-style from a couple of rogue dishwashers. After retrieving the door from the shuttle and destroying it they heard a terrible scream coming from the customer service area above them - my magnum opus. My final boss. Penelope - aka the angry Karen.
Well, until my sorcerer rolled a critical succes on his charisma roll and calmed her down with a free coffee voucher.
Can't have it all I suppose. If only this worked in real life.
Anyway, it was a very fun night and I'm kinda sad I didn't record it because it was one-of-a-kind, but at least we had fun and now I find myself with a DnD group and apparently I just am a DM now.
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2024.05.18 21:06 rudexvirus [Publishing Derby] the 2024 Derby is open for Sign ups!

The Fifth Annual Inkfort Press Publishing Derby
Welcome to the beginning of the 2024 Publishing Derby! The signup link for this year's event is located below the recap of each phase. Participants are heavily encouraged to read through the overviews before registering.
Phase 1
Sign-ups
The registration form will open on Saturday, May 18th and remain open until we have approximately 100 entrants.
The full list of covers will be released for viewing on Sunday, May 19th.
Reminder: the pen names on the covers are required, as all participants will be asked to remain anonymous for the event. Please see the Official Rules and FAQs for further information.
Cover Ranking
Inkfort will provide a sheet for participants to rank the covers in order of preference. It is recommended that participants do at least ten, but the ultimate decision is on the individual.
The rankings are due Sunday, May 26th at Noon (EST). The sheet should be emailed to Inkfort Press with the author's name on it.
Cover Assignment
Once the sheets have been collected, the Inkfort team will assign every participant a random number. Then, we will assign each contestant a cover based on their ranking.
Example:
Nick gets assigned the number 3
Jane gets assigned the number 2
Max gets assigned the number 1
Max gets his first pick guaranteed since he is assigned a cover first.
Jane gets her first pick unless it was the same as Max’s. If it was, then she gets her number two.
Nick is next, and he gets number one unless Max or Jane got it, then we go down the list until the very first next cover is available, which in this case would be number 3, in the worst case scenario.
If someone doesn’t rank enough covers:
It is up to each participant to choose how many covers to rank. If a scenario occurs where there is no ranking to guide the assignments, they will be assigned one from what remains at our discretion. This assignment is not negotiable. ** Cover Distribution**
Once everyone has been assigned a cover, the Inkfort Admins will distribute the covers via email. This will include a digital copy of the cover, the title, and the pen name.
(Reminder that all participants will be asked to remain one hundred percent anonymous for the event. Please see the Official Rules and FAQs for further information)
Phase 2
Working Phase
The working phase is where participants will plan and write the book for their assigned covers, it runs from Tuesday, May 28th, to Thursday, August 1st.
The event requires a minimum of 10,000 words but does not have a maximum. Beyond the 10k, the size is up to each author.
While writing, keep in mind that all derby materials must meet the community standards of the event.
Participants are also allowed to begin marketing their books during this phase. Details on marketing can be found in Phase 4.
For more on the rules surrounding community guidelines, spending money, and marketing strategies, please see the official rules. As well, Inkfort suggests reading the Best Practices for tips on word count, as well as reader expectations regarding covers and content. Both of these documents and other information are listed at the bottom of the email.
Phase 3
Beta Readers
Beta phase begins Thursday, August 1st, and ends on Thursday, August 15th.
What is Beta Reading? A Beta reader reads a finished story and provides comments, questions, and other styles of feedback to help the author polish prior to publishing.
The Derby Beta Phase has two parts. In both parts, Inkfort acts as an intermediary for feedback, and all Beta readers (including derby authors who participate in this phase) remain anonymous.
Part One:
Inkfort Press emails a list of submitted books to their Beta Reader mailing list. The list will include the titles, short taglines, and blurb.
There is no guarantee that all books will receive feedback.
Part Two:
The second portion is an exchange exclusively between other Derby Authors. All books submitted in this portion ought to receive feedback from another participant, and each author who enters is expected to give feedback to one book.
The Inkfort Staff will compile the books entered and match them based on several factors, including, but not limited to, total word count and genre.
Part two is completely optional, but it is important to note that those who sign up and do not complete their assigned read may be locked out of the program in future events.
The feedback and questionnaires must be emailed back to Inkfort by Thursday, August 15th, at midnight. (EST)
Phase 4
Revision and Marketing phase.
The revision phase begins on Friday, August 16th.
Revision:
This phase is dedicated to revising the books based on feedback and self-edits. Participants are allowed to begin editing at any time, including during the Beta phase.
Marketing:
With the bulk of the writing finished for most participants, this is where the authors are encouraged to begin the bulk of their marketing. Authors are allowed to share details of the event as a whole on their main pages, but anything specific must be under the pen name.
There are two important rules for this portion of the event.
Each author must market under their assigned pen name.
Under no circumstances may an author use their pre-existing fanbase, family, friends, or social media during the derby. Only the author and Inkfort Staff are allowed to know who wrote each book during the event.
This also means authors can not use existing editing relationships, closed crit groups, or anything similar for the derby book. Anything used must also be accessible to a total stranger. It also means that participants should not be narrowing down the pool to those they know. No information about their individual book should be shared while not under the guise of the pen name.
Participants are not allowed to spend money on their derby projects during the event.
Authors can use the software they already own, such as:
Word processors
Formatting software
Rocket
They can not, however, spend money on things like:
Physical copies
Editing
Ads
Supplemental art
Pro-level of software
Phase 5
ARC’s
Arc submissions are due Saturday, August 31st. Arc email will be sent out on Sunday, September 1st.
What is ARC? ARC stands for Advanced Review Copy. These individuals get to read a polished copy of the book before it goes live and are often encouraged to leave a review as soon as possible.
Books that are finished and ready for launch may be submitted by the deadline. Those who do will be added to a list sent to the Inkfort Press ARC Readers list. Similar to Beta, they will see titles, taglines, and blurbs.
Phase 6
Publication
On Monday, September 23rd, all of the finished books should go live.
The following details are up to the authors, although the participants are free to ask questions and have discussions about them.
Pricing
Categories
Where to publish
Inkfort only requires that the pen name remain the only persona attached at this stage, as well as having the event mentioned in the back matter.
(The exact wording and nature of the mention will be given as that phase nears.)
The Ending
Categories of Recognition.
Sales information is due back to Inkfort by Firday, October 25th. . Please remember that each author is responsible for adhering to all local laws and tax codes for this pen name, where applicable.
There are three categories that will be given a shout-out at the end of the derby.
Copies sold.
Review score.
Community Choice.
Unfinished Books
If a book is not launched by the end of derby, the cover will revert back to Inkfort Press to be used during the next event. Participants may keep the story they wrote and find a different cover at the time they are ready to publish.
Sign Up!
To sign up for the Publishing Derby, please fill out this form: ttps://forms.gle/Ew4hXQddFBe7k47c8
Look Ahead: Dates and Reminders.
Sign-ups close: When 100 participants are reached
Covers release: Sun May 19
Rankings due: Sun May 26 at noon EST
Cover assignments: Mon May 27
Working phase begins: Tues May 28
Beta submissions are due: Wednesday, July 31st
Beta phase starts: Thurs August 1
Revision phase starts/continues: Fri Aug 16
Arcs due: Sat Aug 31
Arc phase starts: Sun Sept 1
Launch day: Monday, Sept 23
Sales due: Fri Oct 25
Links and resources:
Sign up form:
https://forms.gle/Ew4hXQddFBe7k47c8
Official Rules: https://www.inkfortpress.com/derby/rules
Best Practices: https://docs.google.com/document/d/16XgbwYOdroFP7Xc1gyPyDxqPqFrcZd7VnPfzt_GwLUY/edit?usp=sharing
Beta / Arc mailing list: https://subscribepage.io/InkfortPress
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2024.05.18 21:04 windkirby Animal Crossing Pocket Camp v5.6.0b Update

Animal Crossing Pocket Camp v5.6.0b Update
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Howdy, messy roommates. If you felt a bit tickled-pink-to-death by April’s roseate flurry of events, this year’s May just may have the cure with a foray into the airborne, outdoorsy, and adventurous. Thanks as always to Miranda, Bassieeee, and Ray for help datamining. We’ve got our airships, our kites, and our handheld birds, so let’s get our flight gear in check and take off our Zipper constumes (please I’m begging you guys)!
Twitter preview image for May 2024 in Pocket Camp

  • Version Codes
    • v5.6.0 was 61b5c, v5.6.0b is 45822.
    • This is a client-side update that should not require downloading a new version of the app.
  • May Seasonal Event – Village-Green Lazy Day
    • It’s with great embarrassment that Pete regretfully admits why there was no Valentine’s Day this year… Some troublemaking slingshotter hit clean through his mailbag, scattering all this year’s love letters in the snow! With Wilbur and Orville taking over, Pete is taking a little spring break sabbatical from all the stress… These breezy days are perfect for daydreaming about his longtime love, Phyllis. “Do you know what she said to me the other day? ‘What are you looking at?! Wipe that dopey look off your mug!’ Oh, my heart… Her billed lips are so beautiful when they speak such harsh words!” But while Pete relaxes, there’s still work to be done! This May, we’ll be participating in Harvey’s Colorful Picnic gardening event, the Kite Flying Fishing Tourney, and the Hide-and-Seek Scavenger Hunt to collect 30 wildflower bouquets from each for a total of 90 wildflower bouquets available from events this month. The more bouquets you gather, the more outdoorsy prizes you’ll receive through the planner including handheld foxtail and wildflowers, grassy napping spots, and the grand prize, the wildflower rest spot! We’ll need to forage deep in the woods to gather all the love letters scattered months ago… and hopefully even Pete’s treasured missives to his beloved would-be missus! (Not that she would ever agree…) May’s amazing, not-so-lazy days begin with Harvey’s Colorful Picnic a little early on April 30th GMT!
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  • May Terrain – Village Green
    • May’s new terrain set ushers a civic springtime atmosphere into your campsite with a verdant park square replete with striking fountains, blue flowerbeds, weirdly cubic trees, and a rustic clocktower standing watch. What’s more, this terrain’s middle ground will be given to all players—a little awkward without the foreground to complete the water path, but you can get a little creative and hide the rift with other water features or large-scale decorations. The background includes a homey albeit bustling, old-fashioned town and a blimp roving the airways while the sky adds fresh greenish, teal, and gold hues to your vista you might not often see. Your visitors might not exactly be green with envy considering everyone’s getting this terrain, but they can still park their rears to enjoy your campsite’s outdoor amenities when this terrain set of middle ground, foreground, background, and sky becomes available April 30th GMT.
Tip screen for the village green terrain; auto-designer images using the village green terrain and items from May's main three events; event preview image for Harvey's Colorful Picnic gardening event
  • May Gardening Event – Harvey’s Colorful Picnic
    • Harvey’s not sure why his beloved Harriet never responded to his thoughtful love letter a couple months ago… But he’s totally not gonna let it get him down! With the breezy, clear weather, it’s the perfect time for this free-spirited nomadic dog to have a picnic with his favorite pals… and put his aspiring photography skills to good use to document the event with a panoply of pics to post on social media. Harriet is bound to see it and know for sure that he’s not pining for her day and night! But for the picnic to work, we’ll need to plant daisy seeds to attract sandwichbees… The prospect of eating these creatures is a bit disturbing to stomach, but just think of them as lively kebabs! More importantly, sticking enough of bite-sized buzzers will earn fixings for a festive picnic including flag garlands, take-out drinks and sandwiches, and shaded picnic blankets! Completing this event in full will also yield 30 wildflower bouquets as part of May’s Village-Green Lazy Day campaign, so be sure to replant and exchange bugs with friends often! With outdoor hors-d’oeuvres and sportive knickknacks, it’s the almost-perfect respite between RV outings… Now if he could only get them to call him “Harv” like she used to… Stuff down your doggone feelings with a refreshmental health break when the groovy gardening begins April 30th GMT.
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  • Rudy’s Airship Cookie
    • Maybe it’s a resemblance to a certain reindeer, but Rudy’s always taken as much pride in delivering goodies as he does in his favorite pastime of taking to the skies with inflatable aircraft… He’s not especially careful aboard these dirigibles or hot-air balloons… but if he finds himself freefalling from these feline-friendly floats (and it’s happened many times before), he always manages to land on his feet. So when he spied a love letter addressed to Harriet lost in the brush on one of his airborne outings, Rudy saw it as his civic duty to trustily tend to its safe delivery… And to make sure his noble act of inspiration inspires as many as it should, he’s taken the opportunity to hire a bountiful brigade of blimps and balloons to celebrate the letter’s airborne journey, no expenses spared! For no other particular reason, it’s a raucous, helium-fueled festival starring an airship helmed by Boomer (who has no time for such foolishness but takes his piloting task with utter seriousness), and animals have come from miles around to watch the airshow as Rudy suddenly realizes how hard it is to make out Harriet’s address from the frankly indecipherable scribbles on the envelope. And what is “Harv”? Is that even a word? With refreshments from the balloon-fest food cart, viewers watch the proceedings through their handheld opera glasses as Rudy makes his grand pronouncements over the intercom of his 5-star balloon-fest airship. “Thanks everybody for all your support in completing our big mission. We were gonna hand-deliver this letter originally, but we figure there’s a pretty good chance this ‘Harriet’ is in the crowd somewhere, so we’ve made the decision to helpfully read it out loud for her own convenience, and also to, uh, save fuel and the environment. Ahem: ‘TO MY DEAR SWEET HATTIE. YOUR PRECIOUS PINK FUR IS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN THE FRESHEST MORNING PEONY. BUT THIS AIN’T NO PUPPY LOVE. YOU’VE TRIMMED THE UNTAMED HAIR OF MY HEART INTO A PERFECTLY COIFFED COAT THAT KEEPS IT WARM, AND NO OTHER GAL WILL ’DO! SORRY, I NEED TO WRAP THIS UP—THIS ANNOYING BIRD ON MY HEAD KEEPS TUGGING AT MY HEADBAND. FUREVER YOURS, HARV. PS: THIS LETTER IS FOR HARRIET’S EYES ONLY.’ Wow, well, that definitely wasn’t worth this big party... Uh, let’s go find some more lost mail to rescue, Boomer—mush, mush! Launch into the catmosphere to jubilantly help out animals in need with a spy-high view of all their business when this read-nosy cookie launches May 1st GMT!
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  • Airy Picnic Outfit Collection
    • You can carry your merry little derrière a little airier with this crisp attire featuring the colors of blooming spring flowers, comfortable blue skies and ponds, and even your favorite manilla folder. And even if you live in a pollution-ravaged landfill, you can still see the striking, verdant greenery of spring through the keen lenses of the green picnic sunglasses! Make sure life’s a picnic with this cookout-ready clothing collection served hot off the grill May 5th GMT.
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  • Blue-Sky Wall & Floor Collection
    • This expansive wall and floor collection might come in handy if you want to transform your cabin or RV into a well-kept city park or attempt an interior design that takes place entirely midair! We’ve had a couple sky and cloud wallpapers before but none before that featured a swarm of balloons like in that disturbing number from the Brave Little Toaster Mars movie. The vintage-style illustrations of the plentiful-picnic wall will also harken back to simpler days of rustled-up breakfasts on rustic vacations at the family cabin or on the open road. Look for these vagrant and free-floating designs when they release May 10th GMT.
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  • Grasshopper Goals
    • You have much work to do, young grasshopper. But it’ll probably be pretty easy. This misleadingly named rerun of an April 2022 goals event will see the return of Animal Crossing mainstay and Pocket Camp common insect long locust to Sunburst Isle, where you can find it hopping about the tropical grass—make sure not to step on one! They only sell for 10 Bells, so you might find them to be more of a nuisance than an asset after you finish catching enough for your standard Leaf Tickets and Rudy's airship cookie. But they’re sure to hop along when this goals event concludes after May 11th – 14th GMT.
  • May Fishing Tourney - Kite Flying
    • For May’s fishing tourney, we’ll be gliding over to Saltwater Shores to catch an ironically grim assortment of monochrome fish from tourneys past. String enough of these sable sea fish together to unfurl prizes you can let sail into the wild blue yonder like colorful stacked kites and a birdy parachute toy—perfect for May’s spring breezes. Handheld pinwheel toys and even colorful wind socks make appearances as well, likely as loving references to the Gamecube days where wind socks could be spotted in May and players could carry pinwheels around as rare handheld decor. Completing this event in full will yield 30 wildflower bouquets as part of May’s monthlong Village-Green Lazy Day campaign, so be sure to set up your rod, reel and string every 3-hour rotation you can. You might get a few bites… or a few kites to catch a gale of a tale! Turn your attention upward and decorate your campsite skies with this colorful assortment of draft-ready aircraft… And while we don’t have any stormy or windy terrain still (tragedy of tragedies), you can still pair this with items from last June’s Drizzly Daydream Scavenger Hunt with its windblown grass and trees to complete the picture of a windswept, fun day. And if there’s any animals bothering you, tell ’em to go fly a kite when this winding race to the skies kicks off May 12th GMT, ending May 18th GMT.
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  • Special Visitor Furniture – Pete's Petite Post Office
    • With collected letters fluttering back in, it’s not too late for Pete to roll up his sleeves and start sorting the retrieved mail in his simple post-and-beam treehouse… as long as Twiggy’s pet birds quit harassing him. With this special visitor furniture, you can install Pete’s rustic postbox in your cabin or at your campsite and listen to him regale you with lofty thoughts on the lost arts of mail and romance… You can even do some matchmaking by combining it with Pelly’s postal counter to see if Pete will be too busy mooning over Phyllis to notice the admiration of her sister down below… Clear up a mess of messages with mailman whose treetop cubby is as well-billed as its drama when this pillary, pelicanny post goes on sale May 15th GMT!
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  • Twiggy's Chirpy Cookie
    • With the muddy trail of Curly gone cold, Detective Beardo has had to return to field the mountain of requests on his desk for his P.I. services, but one lonesome plea stood out from a Java sparrow by thname of Peck… “You’ve gotta help me, crunch. I finally achieved my dream of a solitary bird sanctuary all of my own. Then the next thing I know, I’m getting kicked out by Lyle with a whole series of lawsuits, and this birdbrain named Twiggy moves in! I don’t like the way she’s looking at me, Beardo! She keeps calling me her super-cute pet and won’t let me leave—she says it’s too dangerous for a bird like me. Is anybody home in that hollow noggin of hers, crunch? These wings of steel can beat up anybody! Holy moly, and the racket around here! She moved in with eighteen flocks of the loudest birds alive. I’m lucky if I get two winks of sleep! Peck’s Peaceful Paradise is a thing of the past—now it’s Twiggy’s Tweedledeelightful Chirpatorium, and she says she’s opening a new branch of Flora’s bird and breakfast retreat! When I tell her how hard I’ve worked these muscles to get here, she says that’s ‘just the way things are’ and the ‘fortune cookie powers that be’ have this stuff all hammered out! I’m not afraid to say it, Detective—I really need your help! I’m starting to think there’s something a little sexist here about who gets to have what fortune cookies, but I don’t wanna ruffle any feathers.” With a sparrow in harrowing straits, and never one to turn away from fowl play, Beardo and his trusty sidekick Merengue book the first flight out to Twiggy’s brand-new bird haven… only to find that Peck is nowhere to be seen! They check every nook in the bird-haven birdhouse, try to interview bird-lovers lounging on the redundantly named bird-haven birdy sofa… but with all the colorful bird-calling and caterwauling going on around them, they can scarcely hear any potential leads! They meet with Twiggy at the 5-star bird-haven tree, but it leads to more chicanery than answers… “ISN’T THIS PLACE THE TOTAL BEST? IT WAS SUCH A SNOOZEFEST BEFORE I GOT HERE, AND NOW IT’S, LIKE, A CHIRPY CHOIR CACOPHONY DELIVERED STRAIGHT IN MY EARDRUMS! WHAT’S THAT? WHERE? PECK? UH—I GUESS ON THE CHEEK, BUT ARE YOU SERIOUS? I JUST MET YOU! TALK ABOUT CHEAPERS CREEPERS! OH, YOU MEAN THAT HIGHTAILED HOTTIE WHO WAS HERE A COUPLE MONTHS AGO? I HAVE, LIKE, NO CLUE WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM, BUT I CALLED DIBS, SO IF YOU SEE HIM, HANDS OFF!” There’s no trace of Peck to be seen, but just then, that’s when Beardo and Merengue spot it—a handheld java sparrow perching on Twiggy’s forewing! This seems a dark coincidence… Did Peck make a brave avian escape, or did this burly boy-chick meet a perilous fate as a pet?! Beardo and Merengue keep watch on every bird and bird-watcher in this pet-filled paradise, but mum’s the bird among the patrons and no one’s making a peep… Just a cuckoo commotion that they can’t help consider would drown out a Java sparrow’s cry for help… Try to reach the bottom of a cheep trick of bye-bye birdie when this birdcagey cookie makes some noise May 17th GMT!​
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Tip screens for Twiggy's chirpy cookie, the Bright Bird Outfit Collection, and the Birdy Wall & Floor Collection
  • Bright Bird Outfit Collection
    • May’s second clothing collection works as a companion to Twiggy’s fortune cookie. It’s bright, it’s birdiful, and it’s very LOUD with bird-emblem tunics and long cardigans in, ahem, very strong colors that will certainly make a statement flapping in your viewer’s face. We reached out to Robin for her thoughts on this collection’s bird bags… “So undignified. I can’t imagine people would be too pleased if I started wearing plastic people bouncing around my derriere, carrying my loose change, hm?” Being a crazy cat lady is so 8 months ago… Become a crazy bird lady (or a crazy bird lord!) when this collection flits in on May 18th GMT.​
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  • Birdy Wall & Floor Collection
    • This set of ravin’-avian designs will set the heart aflutter of anyone who has birds on the brain… (for anyone else… they’re not bad). You can capture the visages of birds forever in the bird-photo wall or cavalierly set them free with the bird-window wall. If you enjoyed last June’s lily pond wall but feel like it was just a little too beautiful, the park-pond wall here will do you nicely. Get a little cocky with these bold patterns for your cabin or camper when this flock of refurbishments alights May 18th GMT.
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  • Threadfin Trevally Goals
    • This oddly timed rerun of a November 2021 goals event will see the return of the threadfin trevally to Saltwater Shores in the form of tiny-size shadows (size 1 of 6). They sell for 400 Bells each at base price and are uncommon-tier when gifted to animal campers, so not a bad catch, but if your interest in this wispy fellow is dangling by a thread, or a fin, you can still nab some Leaf Tickets and an Rudy’s airship cookie for your trouble during this limited-time event from May 19th through 22nd GMT.
  • May Scavenger Hunt – Hide-and-Seek
    • For May’s scavenger hunt, we’ll be searching the very best hiding places around the various recreation spots to spy hide-and-seek gyroidites. And watch out for their extra foliage as camouflage… even their bushes might be hiding behind bushes! Ferret out enough of these stealthy sneaks to earn prizes for a recess-ridden recreational park, crammed with nooks where animals can hide for classic games of hide and seek… some of them more effective than others. (I’m looking at you, Al.) Judging by the Happy Homeroom classes, the most likely Leaf Ticket items are the hide-and-seek slide and jungle gym, and then either the hide-and-seek lightpost, pipes, or drinking fountain—just some speculation, though. Completing this event in full will yield the final 30 wildflower bouquets to complete May’s monthlong Village-Green Lazy Day campaign, so be sure to keep the hunt on even past sundown (and check out the quarry and your campsite animals too!) to finish off the month in sneaky style! This outdoor décor makes for a calmingly mellow ode to nostalgic days from childhood (and from Animal Crossing: City Folk and New Leaf!) that will make finding your campers for your daily chats more ~~frustrating~~ I mean fun than ever! Hunt for gyroidite and animals when this oxenfree-for-all begins May 20th GMT (ending the 30th GMT)!
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  • Curlos and Pals
    • While there isn’t technically much datamined here, this update did add an animal batch under the name of “Curlos and Pals” to the date of May 25th GMT. It seems this will be after the next update as map assets haven’t actually been added yet for this batch, but we do know that “Gwen and Pals’ Island” will be joining Curlos’s island, likely as part of this batch. With only 8 animals left— Benjamin, Biff, Curlos, Gwen, Sydney, Velma, Freckles and Mott—it seems likely this means they will be finished releasing all the animals at the end of this month, but as of now, this is unconfirmed.
  • Happy Homeroom
    • This update included the typical 3 classes each for Harvey’s Colorful Picnic gardening event, Rudy’s airship cookie, the Kite Flying Fishing Tourney, Twiggy’s chirpy cookie, and the Hide-and-Seek Scavenger Hunt, as well as 8 classes each for new normal Courses 53 and 54.
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And that’s all of May’s merriments! Our fellow dataminer Koopavocelot has also spotted a noteworthy notice that may be coming this month but no info yet on its contents… Hopefully it’s not some sort of end-of-times apocalyptic alert with the last of the villagers likely coming out this month. Er… right? As for June, we’ll probably get the Twitter preview in only a week’s time. June is often themed around seasonal rain or weddings as they’re what the month is known for in Japan, and given that we just had a windy-themed event this month, I’d expect more of the latter matrimania for next month’s events. But who knows? We might get some of both in a dewy bridal shower! (Or maybe something completely different.) I’ll aim to have that datamine posted for you fine folks when the update drops ASAP. Until then, thanks for reading, and remember, even if a bird is super-hunkalicious, that doesn’t make it okay to keep him as a pet!
—Woodsy
submitted by windkirby to ACPocketCamp [link] [comments]


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