Me and my mom were driving home late last night and saw an owl on the side of the road probably eating a mouse. She was inclined to turn the car around to go see it again since she didn’t get a good look of it while driving, but I said we should go home despite her wanting to fully turn the car around.
Once home a few hours later, she texts me saying that there is an owl perched on the roof of our house cooing really loud. At this point we both kind of forgot about the first sighting. I was nearly asleep but woke up thinking “I need to see this owl”, for some reason, and had my mom go outside to show me. The owl was gone at this point but I told her it can mean a sign of death (something I heard a long time ago).
We walked to my room while talking and she realized she put a small owl stuffed animal in my room, right on top of a shelf after cleaning out the garage yesterday. Then realized she put small owl figurines outside on the front porch too. And then pulled out a small owl salt+pepper shaker that she found that same day she was cleaning the garage and brought it inside as well as all the others. At the time she didn’t realize the owl theme because she was bringing in lots of other stuff. We were kind of creeped out and both had chills after she found the last one.
To top it off, I went to go to bed after this and was watching family guy and an owl was on the show. I know somethings just happen, but this was something that was basically begging to be noticed. Just the way that they were placed throughout the house without notice before, and the actual owls being so intriguing to both of us makes me wonder what this could mean. I have to take it as a sign just can’t figure out what it means.

Being a natural skeptic, this is a story I never thought I’d be telling. I grew up reading those short, half-edited horror stories that were so popular on the internet, scaring myself out of sleep too many times to count as a kid. These days, I’m still too scared to fall asleep, just like I was when I was 11 reading stories on boards I had no business browsing. This time, though, it isn’t typed words on my aging laptop that have my heart unable to beat calmly in my chest. It isn’t the long traded campfire story that has the hairs on my neck standing in unease.
It’s the envelope sitting on my desk, taunting me as I glance at it from across the room. The top torn open haphazardly, its contents situated neatly against the worn wood grain.
It’s the words that are typed so neatly along the page, bringing back every foul memory I can conjure.
“Thank you for donating.
Come back and see us again soon,
Mr. Weller.”
~
The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a golden hue over the endless river of asphalt stretching out before me. This highway, flanked by gnarled mesquite trees and sporadic billboards advertising the next southern baptist church, had become somewhat of a familiar friend over the years. It was the unofficial gateway between my life at college and my small hometown nestled on the border of Texas and Louisiana.
I adjusted my review mirror, catching a glimpse of my own tired reflection. Summer break was finally here and I had high-tailed it from the campus as soon as my last final exam hit my professor’s desk. Gone was the grueling cycle of exams, papers, and endless nights spent hunched over textbooks. Whoever said that the college years were the best of their life needed to find the nearest sharp object to take a seat on.
As I drove, the familiar scenery slipping by in a soothing blur, my phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. The screen flashed “Mom”, causing the involuntary roll of my eyes.
“Hey, Mom, I’m on the road. What’s up,” I spoke into the phone, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.
”Hi, sweetheart! How close are you to home?” Her voice was warm and overly sweet, exactly the tone she used when she was about to ask for an inconvenient favor.
“Probably a few hours out. Why?”
“Perfect! Listen, can you do me a favor and pick up a case of beer for your dad? He invited his friends over tonight and I don’t have time to run to the store with all the cooking-,” she explained quickly, probably sensing my sigh of annoyance before I could even take a breath.
”Mom,” I interrupted evenly, “you do realize there are, like, zero places to stop for miles, right? The last couple hours are practically deserted.”
“I know, but most gas stations always have the kind your dad likes. Just stop at the next one you see, okay?”
I groaned internally, glancing at my half full gas gauge. I had filled up the tank this morning specifically so I wouldn’t have to stop once on the drive.
“Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”
”You’re the best,” Mom sighed in relief, her tone calm again. “Drive safe, honey.”
With that, she hung up, leaving me to the rhythmic drone of the road and my dusty second hand CD’s once again.
I kept my eyes peeled for the next gas station, hoping to get the beer run out of the way sooner rather than later. About 20 minutes after Mom’s call, a rundown gas station came into view, its neon sky flickering erratically against the dusky sky. Like most gas stations in the middle-of-nowhere-south, it looked like it hadn’t seen a renovation since at least the 70’s.
Pulling in, I parked next to a rusted out pickup and stepped out, the heat and humidity immediately oppressive. The place reeked of old oil and dust, the air thick with the smell of mildew. I made my way inside, the crude “bell” over the door made of old fishing lures and soda caps jingling half-heartedly as I entered.
If I thought the outside of the joint was sad, the inside was plain pathetic. Dimly lit and cluttered with off brand snacks and outdated magazines, I wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been stocked since at least the 70’s. I quickly located the cooler, grabbing a case of Keystone Light and headed to the counter. I tried not to breathe the air in too deeply, a little afraid of whatever strange diseases probably lingered.
The attendant behind the counter was a greasy, wiry man with sunken eyes and a gaunt face. He glanced up from his equally disheveled book, watching me approach with an intensity that made me uneasy. Placing the beer on the counter, I fished out my license, hoping to make this transaction as quick as possible. He eyed me while I pulled my wallet out, his voice reeking of prolonged cigarette and cheap whiskey.
“Headed to Texas?” he gruffed.
I nodded slowly, trying to piece together how he knew. I was still at least an hour and a half from the border. “Yeah, lucky guess.” I chuckled uneasily.
”Not lucky at all,” he drawled out, “Saw yer license plate.”
I turned towards the glass door, seeing the direct line to my car.
“Ah,” I responded, not quite sure what else to add as I put down my drivers license next to the case of beer.
Is this how social interactions at gas stations are supposed to go?
The greasy man picked up my license, his gaze lingering on it a bit too long as he rang the beer up without glancing at the register.
“You’re an organ donor,” he remarked, casual, as if it were something he asked every day.
Nope. Definitely not a normal interaction.
”Uh, yeah. Just in case, I guess.”
He handed back the license and I fought the urge to wipe whatever strange grime he accumulated on his hands off my card.
“Makes you a good person,” he nodded, offering me a rotted grin.
I forced a smile, increasingly eager to get the hell out of this place. “How much?”
”Fifteen seventy three.” He replied, his accent catching over the vowels.
I handed over two wrinkled 10s, wondering if I should tell him to keep the change so I wouldn’t have to handle anything else he touched. Before I could decide, the man spoke again, peering back at the door.
”Yer headed the wrong way if yer trynna get to Texas. Should take the next left up ahead.”
I frowned, unable to keep up my polite mask much longer. “The road’s straight the whole way,” I argued, “I’ve driven it a hundred times.”
The grimy mess of a man simply smiled, a thin, almost predatory smile.
“Only bein polite. Suit yerself”
I took my change and beer, muttering a quick thanks before bolting it out of there. The encounter left an uncomfortable feeling in my chest, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of those piercing eyes on my back as I walked to my car.
Last time I do a favor for mom, I thought dramatically.
Once inside the safety of my car, I locked the doors and started the engine, eager to put distance between myself and that disgusting gas station. The man’s words and shit-eating grin echoed in my mind, but I dismissed them. The road home was straight, I knew that much for certain.
As the miles ticked by, I found myself turning the music up louder and louder, trying to shake off the unease from the encounter. I tried focusing on the familiar landmarks and the lyrics of the songs I’d heard a thousand times. Thankfully, it only took a few songs for it to work.
The sun began to dip lower into the sky, casting long shadows that stretched across the road. I figured I was about an hour from home at this point, my mind itching to be home.
It took me longer than I’d like to admit to see that something was seemingly… wrong.
When I glanced to the side, expecting fields of unkempt brush and patches of cactus, instead I saw short, twisted trees. My eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sense of the misplaced flora. I let off the gas slightly, slowing down the car to take in the patches of damp, soggy earth peppering the fields. I looked behind me, my brain desperate to rationalize the sudden change of environment. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, a knot of anxiety forming in my stomach.
This wasn’t right. I had driven this route countless times and the scenery had never changed so drastically. How in the world had I driven myself into a bog?
The road, usually straightforward and predictable, now seemed to wind and twist as my car crept along it, each bend revealing more of the eerie, waterlogged terrain. Doubts crept in, swift and harsh. Had I missed a turn? Was that psycho right after all?
The feeling of unease grew stronger with each passing mile. The familiar landmarks were gone, replaced by dense foliage and the occasional decrepit and rotted building. I glanced at my phone, picking it up in hopes of checking my GPS, but my heart sank when I saw the “no service” icon in the corner.
Panic began to set in, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I needed to find a way back to the main road, or at least to a road sign.
Just as the sense of dread threatened to overwhelm me, I spotted a building up ahead, its bright lights cutting through the encroaching darkness of dusk. Relief flooded through me. Whatever this place is, surely someone in there can tell me where I got turned around.
However, the sight before me only had my eyebrows furrowing deeper. A clean, well-lit, white building stood amidst the desolate landscape, almost cartoonishly out of place. It looked brand new, too pristine for its surroundings. Like a beacon of hope in a sea of… muck.
Desperation overrode my hesitancy of such a place, fueling my decision to pull over. I parked my car in the well-paved lot, comforted by the other vehicles sitting under the bright lights.
I made my way to the entrance, the glass doors sliding open smoothly as I approached. The stark white walls and sterile smell hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the humid smell of wood rot outside.
Is this some sort of clinic?
I paused as I looked around, my eyes landing on a front desk. A cheery looking woman with a bright smile sat behind it, her eyes already on me.
”Good evening! Are you here to donate?” she called out, her voice light and airy.
I turned back to the door for a moment, my instincts not quite thrilled being in such a strange place, but the idea of trying to get myself un- lost in the dark pushed me further towards the front desk.
”Uh, no. I’m actually lost,” I responded, giving the woman a weak smile. “I’m trying to get to Texas and I think I may have taken a wrong turn. Can you point me in the right direction?”
Her smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes. Disappointment? Annoyance? It was hard to tell.
”Of course, sugar. But why don’t you take a seat first?”
I glanced around to what I now assumed was a waiting room. The occupants were an odd assortment of characters, each making me more uneasy than the last. An elderly man in disheveled clothes sat closest, muttering to himself while looking straight through me.
A few seats down sat a young woman with stringy hair, as if she had just gotten out of the shower. Her eyes looked red and puffy and I could only assume she either was terribly allergic to bogs, or she had been crying for a while.
Next, a man with a little girl sitting beside him caught my attention. The girl clutched a small stuffed bunny, her eyes regarding me curiously. She seemed to be the only person aware of my existence and I threw a small smile her way. Her eyes shifted immediately, darting nervously back to the man beside her. The man had no reaction, continuing to stare straight ahead with a vacant expression.
Lastly, a businessman sat in the corner, his wrinkled suit and messy hair contradicting his aloof demeanor. He held a phone to his ear, checking his watch intermittently. The whole scene of the room reeked of impatience and unease, making my skin crawl.
What the hell is this place?
I turned back to the front desk, forcing a smile. “Listen, ma’am. I’m really just looking for directions. I don’t need an appointment.”
The woman tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering. “Mr. Weller can see you for a donation. It won’t take long.”
“I really don’t have time for that. I just need to get back on the road,” I insisted, the edge of desperation beginning to creep into my voice.
She ignored my plea, typing something into the computer. “Mr. Weller will be with you shortly. Please, take a seat.”
Frustration boiled over. I was about to argue further when I noticed the other patients had started to stare, their gazes heavy and expectant. The atmosphere in the room shifted to feel charged, almost oppressive.
Deciding I had seen quite enough, I muttered quickly. ”Thanks, but I’m going to pass,” and turned on my heel, making a beeline for the exit.
The nurse’s cheerful farewell followed me out, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in my bones.
I hurried back to my car, the clinic’s lights painting long shadows across the parking lot. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I locked the doors and took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The “clinic” had rattled me more than I cared to admit.
As I started the engine and pulled back onto the road, the clinic quickly disappeared from view, swallowed by the hungry night. My mind raced, grappling with the bizarre turn of events. The woman at the front desk’s insistence, the strange people in the waiting room, and the clinic itself…
none of it made sense.
Determined to put this fever dream behind me and find my way home, I refocused on the road ahead, hoping that with a bit of luck, I could retrace my steps and escape this unsettling detour. The landscape grew darker, the swamp closing in around me, but I pressed on, clinging to the desperate hope that familiar sights were just around the next bend.
The feeling of unease clung to me like an unwanted second skin as I drove further on, minutes passing with no change. Eventually, at least an hour passed, the monotony of the road broken only by the occasional curve and the distant croaking of frogs. I had long since shut off my radio, seeing as no amount of Lynyrd Skynyrd could make the situation better.
My eyes strained against the darkness, searching for any road signs or landmarks.
Yet as time wore on, familiar trees passing by, an alarming realization began to settle in.
Despite making no turns. Despite the road seemingly taking me far away,
I was back where I started.
Bright lights pierced the gloom ahead, the parking lot coming into view mocking my attempt to leave. My heart sank, a cold wave of dread washing over me the closer I got.
I was back at the clinic.

I hope this is an OK topic for a group that deals a lot in the actual language of Hungarian.. But I wanted to ask if anyone has played Snapszer before? If so, does your family have unique house rules? What are they? I am an avid player and my grandma has passed on her knowledge (she used to be undefeated, now loses more often than before because we have kind of mastered the game). I'm just curious if there are differences in play style. I am also curious if anyone has taught this game to anyone? I've had a fun time trying to explain the suits to them. "Hearts. Acorns. Green pepper. Squash. No, it's not like the French deck where you have your red and black cards too. Neither of these are paired like the reds and blacks of a typical deck... and yes the squash looks like a bell. I promise it's squash. No there is no 5 or 6. Why? I don't know. Maybe some folks were stuck in a cabin in winter with an incomplete deck and had to get creative?" I want to continue the family tradition of Snapszer long after my grandma and parents leave the world... and I want to entice my friends and chosen family to learn.
Előre köszönöm mindenkinek a commentokat ❤️

I am a 33F and ended up in the ER last night. Diagnosed with acute diverticulitis. My mom has had diverticulitis since she was my age. I got a referral to a GI. What should I expect next? More tests?
I have NO idea what caused this. I havent eaten anything out of the ordinary other than having more bell peppers and onions than usual. I did have some smartfood popcorn, but I have never had issues with popcorn before.
I'm currently doing a clear liquids diet for a few days, then I'll move to liquid, and low/no fiber until I'm okay.
When was your first instance of diverticulitis? Did you have more flares after? What triggers yours? Any information will help. TYIA.

I was thinking this as I was making a tuna mayo filling. My mom used to give me tuna mayo on a white breadroll for school lunches a lot when I was growing up. I absolutely hated them after a while, probably out of boredom, but I was never thrilled about the taste either.
Now it's a treat I make for myself every now and again (noone else in the family likes it so it's just for me) - tinned tuna, handful of shredded hard mozzarella, big handful of corn, big finely chopped red onion, plenty of freshly ground black pepper and salt, and then plenty of full-fat mayonnaise. Optionally some torn coriandecilantro. Great on a toasted ciabatta roll, or atop a jacket potato.
The other thing I hated was a haddock pie my mom used to make. Partly I hated having to look out for tiny bones, but I found the whole dish insipid. Now I make a version based on Jamie Oliver's everyday fish pie recipe every now and then as a quick and easy yet luxurious treat. Great for informal dinner parties as well.
600g/1.5lb mixed fresh fish (ideally at least one smoked either haddock or salmon, plus a white fish), some fresh raw shelled shrimp or prawns (not too big), some small scallops if you're feeling fancy, one large grated carrot, big handful of shredded mature cheddar, zest and juice of one lemon, two handfuls of baby spinach leaves, roughly chopped, two tomatoes chopped, light dusting of chili flakes, salt and pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil. Mix well, then press into the bottom of a casserole dish. Top with mashed potato (I'm lazy, I buy the ready-made stuff most of the time; it needs about 900g/2lb, more if you have a wideshallower dish) spread out evenly, and optionally a layer of shredded medium cheddar and some more black pepper. 30 minutes in the oven at about 180C/355F. So simple to prepare.

Lately, I was thinking about making a Bay Rum aftershave at home. I can easily buy one but why not make one when I already have most of the ingredients at home? Any fellow wetshavers here who have made one in the past?
I've run in to couple of different recipes online that list different ingredients. Some mention using cloves, allspice and vanilla while other mention black pepper and orange.
So far I'm decided to use bay leaf oil as the leaves are hard to get, cinnamon, cloves, allspice, orange oil, rum and ethanol/vodka. Any other suggestions?

-First- -Previous- -Next (on Patreon)-
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Hello again! This batch of chapters is looking pretty spicy, and I'm really excited to share them with you! Not really much else to say, tbh, other than that I'm once again really thankful for all of your patience and understanding when it comes to my upload schedule. I know it's tough sometimes to drop in and out of stories like this, and even worse to see the last upload date for a story you like being "100 days ago," but we're still making our way there slowly! Besides, the most tender dishes are the ones that boil slowly~
As always, I hope you enjoy reading! :D
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Fanart: The Brightest Star in the Night Sky, by u/Frostedscales
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Thank you to Philodox on discord for proofreading and editing RfD.
Thank you to Pampanope on reddit for the cover art.
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​
Memory Transcript Subject: Sylvan, Venlil Citizen
Date: [Standardized Human Time]: December 13, 2136
​
“Everything’s good to go over here, Kenta! How about you?”
“Fine on my end too boss! Though I still don’t know how to feel about how I’ve arranged the sandwiche– err… sylvanas. Cucumber salad next to blueberry? They kind of don’t match…”
“I already told you a million times, they look fine!”
“You sure…?”
“I’m sure! Now are you ready to start this thing?”
“Ready!”
“Then let’s go!”
I shut the door to the kitchen, making sure that I had not left anything behind that would be needed for the day, then began wheeling out the final cart of amenities. As I rolled it down the wooden floor of my emptied out diner, one long serving tray jostled back and forth across the surface top.
I looked down to recap my inventory. A motley of sylvanas cleanly cut into triangles lay in an ornate pattern atop a decorative bed of raw ipsom grain stalks, spiraling around the edges of the plate as it creeped its way closer to the center. The sylvanas were split into clear groups based not only on their filling, but of the colour of that filling as well, creating a literal rainbow of flavours to choose from. By all means, it was an absolutely marvelous display of art; a visual performance that I had no idea could be captured in something like a dish to be served at such a quaint event. Kenta, however, seemed to still be worrying over it.
Despite it apparently being part of the name according to my translator, the Terran fruit named “blueberry” was actually a deep shade of indigo rather than blue, especially when crushed into a form of jam. As a result, lacking any blue to connect the various green options of our rainbow to that of the very limited indigo, Kenta had ended up spending much too long worrying over such a minute detail.
‘What a dummy…’ I thought back to myself with a slight chuckle. ‘I guess he’s worrying about this just as much as I am.’
Hardly two or three steps remained between the food cart and the diner’s entrance. Hastily, I jogged up to the front door to prop it open. However, when I went to turn the handle, I felt it give way without even the slightest push. Someone was pulling it from the other side, causing me to be yanked forward and stumble. Looking up, I saw the rusty figure of Fehnel standing impatiently in the doorway.
“You almost done in here, Sylvan?” she asked in a hurried breath. “Here, let me help you with that.”
Before hearing my response, Fehnel had already grabbed ahold on the cart and began pulling it outside without delay. I let go and didn’t attempt to stop her, knowing full well the farm woman was likely much stronger than I. In a blur, she was already far from the door, and I began jogging after her in an attempt to keep up.
Just as the day before, the Inverter was powered on and running perfectly. The metal pylon let out a slight, continuous hum as it projected an energetic beam from its center, which split at the apex around the height of the Lackadaisy and fell down in a parabolic curve, creating a tangible anti-gravity field in its wake.
Just outside the field, it became immediately clear just how necessary this piece of advanced Federation technology was. Beyond the radiant dome, a thick rain riddled the sky and drowned the world it fell unto. A harsh wind howled and distant thunder roared, which combined with the rain to push against the field to no avail. Within, where so many confectionaries, decorations, and other preparations had been so carefully placed, not even the paw of Solgalick could disrupt us.
“You know this would be goin’ a lot faster if I could jus’ start grabbin’ the food ma’self,” Fehnel commented in a tone too preoccupied to be annoyed.
As I ran after the hauling Yotul, I tried to say, “Fehnel, I’d really appreciate it if you would–”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted back, seemingly distant. “You want me to ‘not go into the diner during the event.’ Listen Sylvan, I get that Kahnta back there is a fainter, but don’t you think that this is a tad extreme? We’re on a tight schedule here, y’know?”
“I know… it’s just kind of a golden rule. I can’t stress to you enough how important it is that nobody does so much as peak in there,” I reiterated as I jogged alongside the speeding Yotul. “And don’t worry. Once everything starts, then you can feel free to socialize and spend the day with your daughter. I’ll take care of restocking the food.”
“I suppose that’s awful nice of ya,” Fehnel breathed out. “Sure you won’t be tirin’ yourself out, hun?”
I shrugged. “Eh. How fast could people possibly eat? It’ll be fine.”
“Careful there. Don’t wanna be sprintin’ before your legs catch up,” Fehnel chuckled. “But I’m plenty thankful for the confidence. I’ll try to hold ya to your word.”
As we moved, I was able to take a brief second to look around. I began to marvel at how far the event had come since its initial inception. And under such short time restrictions as well! Through a combination of both the Lacakdaisy’s furniture, as well as a number of decorations that I had rented, we had ended up with something that I had truly considered exemplary. In traditional Venlil style, a forest of various greenery had been set out in a colourful array of paw-crafted pots and other containers. Small bushels, flowers, a few overhanging trees, and other vegetation stood proudly within. From each, incandescent ornaments of various hues emerged in a bright and brazen display. All of which combined to transform the normally secluded street atmosphere into one that was truly cozy, if not just the slightest bit packed within the bubble. In accordance with one of Fehnel’s initial requests, we had even arranged for a small wooden stage to be brought in, which fit neatly against… something that I would rather not look at…
Of course, decorations aside, one of the most enrapturing displays was that of the food itself. Positioned at various places all around the event’s area, tables upon tables of buffet items had been laid out. It was a marvelous display on all fronts. From the generously sized serving bowls of pasta, plates of still steaming gyoza, and the diverse types and variations of strayu laid in motley rows all throughout, the feast was like a colourful microcosm of everything Kenta and I had been working towards.
But what was even more impressive were all the new additions Kenta had made. Just as expected, my wayward chef had taken the original request and spun it on its tail, seemingly pulling no stops when it came to expanding our already diverse arrangement. From end to end, small, round discs of strayu called “Danishes” lay against each other down the side of one of the tables. Most impressively, the center of each had been filled in with various hues of jam, in a similar style to that of the sylvanas that I was currently wheeling towards it.
On the other side of the same table, a sundry of embellished wooden bowls sat parallel, each filled with various kinds of Venlilian-style salads. I had taken the time to teach him such recipes a good while back, but while at first these seemed to be rather unostentatious, a quick look revealed that Kenta had added his own twist to the otherwise typical mix of local produce. Tossed about each salad were dozens of small strayu cubes called “Croutons,” each baked until crisp and crunchy. What’s more, if the olfactory receptor in my mouth didn’t deceive me, I had even picked up the heavenly aroma of something Kenta had only introduced to me recently as “Garlic,” which had clearly been infused into the cubes.
On another table, steaming crocks of both soups and stews had been laid out for guests to self serve. But in lieu of a bowl, Kenta had elected to do something truly unique. It had taken me a moment to process his idea at first, but hollowed out husks of rotund strayu loaves had been left out for guests to grab, in which they were supposed to fill the “bread bowls” – as Kenta had called them – with the soup and eat them as normal. This even came with the advantage of being able to tear off small pieces of the now soup-soaked strayu, allowing one to enjoy the taste of both simultaneously. This idea, I had soon realized, would be the hardest to explain to any confused guests that might happen by.
As we approached the soup table, Fehnel and I began loading up the cart-full of sylvanas we had brought over onto a free area. We placed them right next to one other new recipe that Kenta had decided to share. A simple display of thinly cut slices of crunchy, lightly seasoned strayu, with a bright red sauce readied next to it that I instantly recognized as being the product of tomatoes mixed with oil. According to Kenta, these “Bruschetta” were a simple, yet simultaneously alluring appetizer, which would do well to pair with the soup he had stirred up.
Once the sylvanas had been laid out, Fehnel felt the urge to ask, “Is that the last of it?”
“Yes, for now,” I replied, absentmindedly stretching my back. “This’ll cover the initial rush of hungry people, I assume. But Kahnta’s already busy working on seconds.”
“Gotta say Sylvan, this is quite the impressive spread,” Fehnel said with a quick, delighted wag of the tail. “Y’know… When I asked for somethin’ new, I wasn’t expectin’ Kahnta over there to whip up so much.”
“Oh this isn’t the new dish you asked for,” I answered flatly. “That’s still being worked on.”
Fehnel froze solid, only her ears remaining seemingly automotive as they slowly shifted towards me. “Wait… what?
“Yeah all of this is just the appetizer according to Kahnta,” I explained, messing with a few arrant sylvanas that had broken symmetry. “There’s going to be one more plate of food that should be coming out shortly. And then dessert after that.”
“That’s… surely somethin’...” was all Fehnel could say. She opened her mouth as if to continue her train of thought, only to have something else pull her attention away.
Peering out into the stormy weather of the darkened town, an eye-catchingly large herd of people were making their way towards the bright dome that sketched our event’s area. Silhouettes of familiar patrons and wayward newcomers alike huddled under their umbrellas. All the while, an excited murmur hummed throughout the air, despite the noise of the rain around them. The guests were here, and they seemed excited.
I peered down at a small data pad. “Oh, second-sun already? Looks like we just barely made it on time.”
Fehnel simply wagged in acknowledgment, still the slightest bit flabbergasted.
I nudged her side, which seemed to knock her out of her trance. “Want to go greet them?”
Taking one look at me, then peering back at the ensemble of strange and alien foods behind her, one of Fehnel’s ears flicked a little. Then, she did the tail equivalent of a Human shrug, letting out a pleased chuckle. Whatever had been on her mind was apparently pushed to the side for now. “Heh, of course hun. Let’s treat ‘em to somethin’ special.”
With a newfound kick in her already hastened step, Fehnel began to proudly jog over towards the approaching crowd. By now, we could already begin to make out some faces, each looking more curious than the last.
In addition to the Brachistochrone Inverter itself, Jeela had also taken the liberty to have a reception area installed in the form of a metallic tunnel about the width of three Venlil. The tunnel seemed to fold and bend the anti-gravity energy around it, allowing for people to easily enter the repulsion field without having to tread through a torrent of redirected rainwater. Additionally, a series of hooks alongside the interior of the tunnel also served as a convenient area for the storage of umbrellas and coats, which our guests quickly began making use of the moment they started funneling through.
Fehnel and I stood at the side of the entrance, welcoming in guest after guest with the appropriate propriety. At first, many of them were stymied in their step, staring in awe at the sanctuary-like atmosphere that had been created in the middle of the street. But almost as soon as they got their bearings, most realigned their immediate priorities, and subsequently made a beeline for the buffet tables. That’s what they were here for, after all. Hopefully they’d come to appreciate the actual reason Fehnel was hosting this event soon enough.
As we busied ourselves, the voices of many excited guests made themselves audible.
“I’ve been looking forward to this!”
“Look at the decorations!”
“I feel like I’m in the Capital!”
“Are you sure all of this is free?”
“The ad said it was! Either way, I need to try some of this!”
Fehnel and I watched in delight as the crowd began to form around the tables, a number of plates I had left out disappearing as fast as the eye could blink. However, it was clear that a majority of the attention received had been focussed solely on the more familiar menu items already offered by the Lackadaisy.
“Think they’re gonna touch any of the new stuff?” Fehnel idly commented, her attention still fixed on the crowd. “It’d be a shame if any of it goes to waste.”
“Oh they will,” I answered without hesitation. “Just give them a moment. They’ll be all over it soon enough.”
Fehnel laughed. “You sound awful confident, don’tcha?”
“Oh please, this is hardly the first time I’ve served some wacky new thing to my customers,” I answered back with a chuckle of my own. “If anything, at this point I’d say I’m quite the expert. Just watch. You’ll see.”
Like clockwork, my precognitive claim had been proven true mere moments later. Some soul amongst the table’s crowd had seemingly been more curious than the rest, and ended up taste-testing one of the bruschetta. It was hard to make out from this distance, but if I had to guess, her ears had perked up and her eyes had widened in surprise. What was made clear, however, was their opinion of the new food, because only a few moments later could their voice be heard.
“You have got to try some of this stuff!” she practically yelled at anyone who would listen. “It tastes like the red stuff that’s on the pasta, but like… even stronger! It’s so good I feel like I died and am one with the Stars already!”
Like a Farsul unto a library, the crowd collectively swiveled their ears and began to gravitate towards the bruschetta with eager eyes. A few more voices piped up in glee, each more delighted than the last as paw after paw descended on the strayu until there was nothing scarce of crumbs left.
‘Guess that’ll be the first thing I’ll need to restock,’ I thought with a passive wave of the tail, before a sudden realization crept into my mind. ‘Ugh… Kenta and I might be busier today than I thought…’
It wasn’t long before the elation of trying something new, mixed with the sudden and devastating lack of bruschetta, had urged our party guests to move on to the other, never before seen options that laid out to fill their fancy. All at once, the wall of wool and fluff had spread out the slightest bit as fresher waters were explored. Plates were filled with various salads, despite the unfamiliar bits of crunchy strayu inside raising some skeptical ears. Helping after helping of the technicolour pastries were reached for as well, with the sylvanas not lasting much longer after that. And most impressively, it seemed that people had quickly begun to figure out the concept of Kenta’s cute “bread bowl” idea as well, even without instruction.
That last turn of events had actually caught me the slightest bit off guard. For the bread bowls being quite possibly the most unique aspect of the event – well, that I knew of – I found myself rather impressed by how fast people were getting the hang of it. Sure, it meant that I wouldn’t have to bother myself with having to go around explaining it to everybody, but in my eyes, there was a bit more to it than that. Perhaps it was a case of grasping at straws, but for the briefest moment, it made me wonder whether or not Humanity’s ideas had been affecting my people more than I had realized. Perhaps, if only in the slightest, Kenta had been opening their minds to more unique ideas than I had given him credit for. Without the slightest bit of hesitancy, the partygoers did well to experiment with more than the obvious, quickly wrapping their minds around something completely new and extraordinary.
I exhaled a short-breathed snicker, shaking the thought out of my head. ‘Calm down there, Sylvan. It’s just some soup and a piece of strayu shaped like a bowl. No need to get all philosophical about it. Still, I guess them figuring it out saves me some time. Good, cause it looks like I already need to start stocking the next round…’
I moved to grab my cart so that I could head back inside, only to have Fehnel call out and grab my attention instead.
“Sylvan, hun,” she began. “Before you go makin’ yourself scarce. I think there’s somethin’ about this here party that you haven’t explained yet.”
My head turned out to face her. “Hm?”
“Now, don’t get me wrong… What you did here is great and all. By all means, whenever it is that Kadew decides to show up here with that date of hers, I’m sure she’ll start coming around to the idea of my peoples’ Runnin’ Day. But…”
I now realized that Fehnel was completely focussed on something off in the distance.
“Oh,” I replied. “That…”
I had done well to ignore it up until this point. In fact, if I tried hard enough, I was even able to keep it completely hidden from my peripheral. But the truth was, no matter where I went or what I did to distract myself, there was no denying that it was there – that She was there.
At the opposite end of the dome, an onyx terror lurked over the ignorant, complacent masses. Its wicked enormity great, and the pressure about it even greater. The form it took was terrifying. An alien pose, unknown to the mind, originated from a people feared by many. Its peering eyes descended as domineering malevolence. And from its onyx chassis, a message rang clear as a day personally forged by Solgalick themself: Even if I couldn’t see her; if I shielded herself from my sight all day… No matter what, She could always see me.
“I’m gonna be honest Sylvan, I did not take you as someone that had a thing for Magister Jeela.”
I shot back quicker than a bolt of lighting. “I DO NOT HAVE A ‘THING’ FOR–” before stopping myself short.
Luckily, my voice had not been noticed among the now loud, chattering crowd about us. Which was good. I was pretty sure that my voice had cracked into an almost childishly high pitch. Taking a deep breath, I yanked my composure back, and stuffed an air of professionalism back into my voice yet again.
“I a-appologize…” I mumbled out, my head shrinking between my shoulders.
“No worries!” Fehnel replied. She couldn’t help but let a few chuckles pour into her voice. “I was just teasin’ is all. But seriously, you’re gonna have to whip up a pretty darn good explanation… Else I’m boutta start thinkin’ that what I just said was true.”
I took a deep breath, which soon shifted into a long-winded sigh. “Listen… It was part of the deal, alright? I’m not proud of it, but it’s there now, and unless you’ve got a herd of Mazic heavylifters at the beck and call, I can’t get rid of it.”
“Part of the deal?” Fehnel repeated.
“It’s my end of the bargain for us being able to have this Inverter during the event. And no, before you ask, it was not worth it,” I explained.
I could do nothing but feel immense shame for the inconvenience. To have something so overbearing, so shamelessly grandstanding placed in the middle of what was supposed to be a quaint event about cross-cultural understanding… It was beyond disrespectful to Fehnel’s original request. It took something that the poor woman had been planning for who knew how long, and brutally morphed it into a shadow of its former self. Into nothing but an ego trip for a politician that probably already surrounded themselves with weed biters and paw lickers.
“Listen…” I said, lowering both my tail and ears in respect. “Fehnel, I apologize profusely for allowing that thing to be placed here. I should have put my paw down and just hosted the event inside like we planned. But it’s too late now. I’m really sorry…”
But to my surprise, Fehnel had not been paying attention to my display of humility. Instead, her focus was still on that of the statue.
“I think it looks neat!” she said in a cheery tone.
“Y-you do?” I mumbled back.
“Well yeah!” She wagged her tail to assure me. “Sure it’s a bit, err… unconventional… But I think it’s got quite a bit of charm to it!”
“That’s… one way of saying it…”
“Besides, it might not be the worst thing to have somethin’ from the Magisters here with us,” Fehnel continued to think out loud. “Sorta gives this whole event a kinda official feel, y’know? Like it’s lettin’ everyone here know that the Yotul have got just as much right bein’ under the same heedin’ ears of the Governor as anyone else. Sure, dependin’ on where you are and who you ask, that may or may not be a good thing. But it at least means it’s harder to ignore us now. Heck, might even convince some of the people ‘round here to open up a little to the other parts of us.”
“Well… so long as you’re happy with it, I suppose?” I worded awkwardly.
If I had been completely honest with myself, I was expecting the slightest bit more… Well, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps anger? Annoyance? Unrelenting grief that invariably led to locking yourself in a closet, crying? But there was no sign of that in the rusty Yotul’s eyes. As she stared up at the onyx marvel, I couldn’t help but feel as though there was no sign of the negativity I had anticipated in the slightest. Instead, all that remained was that of a solemn pride. Maybe she was lying to herself. Like it was some sort of coping mechanism that helped her work around this unwelcome development in her plans. But regardless, the end result remained. And I was left feeling relieved at being able to avoid yet another hurdle.
‘Fehnel really knows how to look at the optimistic side of things, I guess… Good. I could really use some more of that around here.’
“Feel free to run along now, Sylvan,” she said, waving me a satisfied flick of the tail. “I’ll keep waitin’ here so I can greet the other guests. And I do hope you and Kahnta can bring out the main course whenever it’s ready. I wanna make sure everything’s ready to blow Kadew’s fur off whenever she decides to get here.”
I had to force myself not to flash a Human smile in return. She and the rest of the partygoers had no idea what was coming. And to a certain extent, neither did I. He did mention he had some sort of “surprise” coming, after all. But I always trusted Kenta for his word, and knowing what my chef was capable of, it never occurred to me once that it wouldn’t live up to the expectations. In fact, I was counting on him to exceed them.
I turned around and headed back to the kitchen. It was time to get the real party started.
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Do you guys ever tried this recipe ? I just started to cook it with olive oil, origano, salt and pepper and it's surprinsingly good !
Anyone who shares the same love for - tuna/cinnamon?

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Hello again! This batch of chapters is looking pretty spicy, and I'm really excited to share them with you! Not really much else to say, tbh, other than that I'm once again really thankful for all of your patience and understanding when it comes to my upload schedule. I know it's tough sometimes to drop in and out of stories like this, and even worse to see the last upload date for a story you like being "100 days ago," but we're still making our way there slowly! Besides, the most tender dishes are the ones that boil slowly~
As always, I hope you enjoy reading! :D
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Fanart: The Brightest Star in the Night Sky, by u/Frostedscales
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Note: This is a Fanfic of the Nature of Predators series by u/Spacepaladin15, that is being reposted from the NatureofPredators sub. Please support the original content.
Thank you to Philodox on discord for proofreading and editing RfD.
Thank you to Pampanope on reddit for the cover art.
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Memory Transcript Subject: Sylvan, Venlil Citizen
Date: [Standardized Human Time]: December 13, 2136
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“Everything’s good to go over here, Kenta! How about you?”
“Fine on my end too boss! Though I still don’t know how to feel about how I’ve arranged the sandwiche– err… sylvanas. Cucumber salad next to blueberry? They kind of don’t match…”
“I already told you a million times, they look fine!”
“You sure…?”
“I’m sure! Now are you ready to start this thing?”
“Ready!”
“Then let’s go!”
I shut the door to the kitchen, making sure that I had not left anything behind that would be needed for the day, then began wheeling out the final cart of amenities. As I rolled it down the wooden floor of my emptied out diner, one long serving tray jostled back and forth across the surface top.
I looked down to recap my inventory. A motley of sylvanas cleanly cut into triangles lay in an ornate pattern atop a decorative bed of raw ipsom grain stalks, spiraling around the edges of the plate as it creeped its way closer to the center. The sylvanas were split into clear groups based not only on their filling, but of the colour of that filling as well, creating a literal rainbow of flavours to choose from. By all means, it was an absolutely marvelous display of art; a visual performance that I had no idea could be captured in something like a dish to be served at such a quaint event. Kenta, however, seemed to still be worrying over it.
Despite it apparently being part of the name according to my translator, the Terran fruit named “blueberry” was actually a deep shade of indigo rather than blue, especially when crushed into a form of jam. As a result, lacking any blue to connect the various green options of our rainbow to that of the very limited indigo, Kenta had ended up spending much too long worrying over such a minute detail.
‘What a dummy…’ I thought back to myself with a slight chuckle. ‘I guess he’s worrying about this just as much as I am.’
Hardly two or three steps remained between the food cart and the diner’s entrance. Hastily, I jogged up to the front door to prop it open. However, when I went to turn the handle, I felt it give way without even the slightest push. Someone was pulling it from the other side, causing me to be yanked forward and stumble. Looking up, I saw the rusty figure of Fehnel standing impatiently in the doorway.
“You almost done in here, Sylvan?” she asked in a hurried breath. “Here, let me help you with that.”
Before hearing my response, Fehnel had already grabbed ahold on the cart and began pulling it outside without delay. I let go and didn’t attempt to stop her, knowing full well the farm woman was likely much stronger than I. In a blur, she was already far from the door, and I began jogging after her in an attempt to keep up.
Just as the day before, the Inverter was powered on and running perfectly. The metal pylon let out a slight, continuous hum as it projected an energetic beam from its center, which split at the apex around the height of the Lackadaisy and fell down in a parabolic curve, creating a tangible anti-gravity field in its wake.
Just outside the field, it became immediately clear just how necessary this piece of advanced Federation technology was. Beyond the radiant dome, a thick rain riddled the sky and drowned the world it fell unto. A harsh wind howled and distant thunder roared, which combined with the rain to push against the field to no avail. Within, where so many confectionaries, decorations, and other preparations had been so carefully placed, not even the paw of Solgalick could disrupt us.
“You know this would be goin’ a lot faster if I could jus’ start grabbin’ the food ma’self,” Fehnel commented in a tone too preoccupied to be annoyed.
As I ran after the hauling Yotul, I tried to say, “Fehnel, I’d really appreciate it if you would–”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted back, seemingly distant. “You want me to ‘not go into the diner during the event.’ Listen Sylvan, I get that Kahnta back there is a fainter, but don’t you think that this is a tad extreme? We’re on a tight schedule here, y’know?”
“I know… it’s just kind of a golden rule. I can’t stress to you enough how important it is that nobody does so much as peak in there,” I reiterated as I jogged alongside the speeding Yotul. “And don’t worry. Once everything starts, then you can feel free to socialize and spend the day with your daughter. I’ll take care of restocking the food.”
“I suppose that’s awful nice of ya,” Fehnel breathed out. “Sure you won’t be tirin’ yourself out, hun?”
I shrugged. “Eh. How fast could people possibly eat? It’ll be fine.”
“Careful there. Don’t wanna be sprintin’ before your legs catch up,” Fehnel chuckled. “But I’m plenty thankful for the confidence. I’ll try to hold ya to your word.”
As we moved, I was able to take a brief second to look around. I began to marvel at how far the event had come since its initial inception. And under such short time restrictions as well! Through a combination of both the Lacakdaisy’s furniture, as well as a number of decorations that I had rented, we had ended up with something that I had truly considered exemplary. In traditional Venlil style, a forest of various greenery had been set out in a colourful array of paw-crafted pots and other containers. Small bushels, flowers, a few overhanging trees, and other vegetation stood proudly within. From each, incandescent ornaments of various hues emerged in a bright and brazen display. All of which combined to transform the normally secluded street atmosphere into one that was truly cozy, if not just the slightest bit packed within the bubble. In accordance with one of Fehnel’s initial requests, we had even arranged for a small wooden stage to be brought in, which fit neatly against… something that I would rather not look at…
Of course, decorations aside, one of the most enrapturing displays was that of the food itself. Positioned at various places all around the event’s area, tables upon tables of buffet items had been laid out. It was a marvelous display on all fronts. From the generously sized serving bowls of pasta, plates of still steaming gyoza, and the diverse types and variations of strayu laid in motley rows all throughout, the feast was like a colourful microcosm of everything Kenta and I had been working towards.
But what was even more impressive were all the new additions Kenta had made. Just as expected, my wayward chef had taken the original request and spun it on its tail, seemingly pulling no stops when it came to expanding our already diverse arrangement. From end to end, small, round discs of strayu called “Danishes” lay against each other down the side of one of the tables. Most impressively, the center of each had been filled in with various hues of jam, in a similar style to that of the sylvanas that I was currently wheeling towards it.
On the other side of the same table, a sundry of embellished wooden bowls sat parallel, each filled with various kinds of Venlilian-style salads. I had taken the time to teach him such recipes a good while back, but while at first these seemed to be rather unostentatious, a quick look revealed that Kenta had added his own twist to the otherwise typical mix of local produce. Tossed about each salad were dozens of small strayu cubes called “Croutons,” each baked until crisp and crunchy. What’s more, if the olfactory receptor in my mouth didn’t deceive me, I had even picked up the heavenly aroma of something Kenta had only introduced to me recently as “Garlic,” which had clearly been infused into the cubes.
On another table, steaming crocks of both soups and stews had been laid out for guests to self serve. But in lieu of a bowl, Kenta had elected to do something truly unique. It had taken me a moment to process his idea at first, but hollowed out husks of rotund strayu loaves had been left out for guests to grab, in which they were supposed to fill the “bread bowls” – as Kenta had called them – with the soup and eat them as normal. This even came with the advantage of being able to tear off small pieces of the now soup-soaked strayu, allowing one to enjoy the taste of both simultaneously. This idea, I had soon realized, would be the hardest to explain to any confused guests that might happen by.
As we approached the soup table, Fehnel and I began loading up the cart-full of sylvanas we had brought over onto a free area. We placed them right next to one other new recipe that Kenta had decided to share. A simple display of thinly cut slices of crunchy, lightly seasoned strayu, with a bright red sauce readied next to it that I instantly recognized as being the product of tomatoes mixed with oil. According to Kenta, these “Bruschetta” were a simple, yet simultaneously alluring appetizer, which would do well to pair with the soup he had stirred up.
Once the sylvanas had been laid out, Fehnel felt the urge to ask, “Is that the last of it?”
“Yes, for now,” I replied, absentmindedly stretching my back. “This’ll cover the initial rush of hungry people, I assume. But Kahnta’s already busy working on seconds.”
“Gotta say Sylvan, this is quite the impressive spread,” Fehnel said with a quick, delighted wag of the tail. “Y’know… When I asked for somethin’ new, I wasn’t expectin’ Kahnta over there to whip up so much.”
“Oh this isn’t the new dish you asked for,” I answered flatly. “That’s still being worked on.”
Fehnel froze solid, only her ears remaining seemingly automotive as they slowly shifted towards me. “Wait… what?
“Yeah all of this is just the appetizer according to Kahnta,” I explained, messing with a few arrant sylvanas that had broken symmetry. “There’s going to be one more plate of food that should be coming out shortly. And then dessert after that.”
“That’s… surely somethin’...” was all Fehnel could say. She opened her mouth as if to continue her train of thought, only to have something else pull her attention away.
Peering out into the stormy weather of the darkened town, an eye-catchingly large herd of people were making their way towards the bright dome that sketched our event’s area. Silhouettes of familiar patrons and wayward newcomers alike huddled under their umbrellas. All the while, an excited murmur hummed throughout the air, despite the noise of the rain around them. The guests were here, and they seemed excited.
I peered down at a small data pad. “Oh, second-sun already? Looks like we just barely made it on time.”
Fehnel simply wagged in acknowledgment, still the slightest bit flabbergasted.
I nudged her side, which seemed to knock her out of her trance. “Want to go greet them?”
Taking one look at me, then peering back at the ensemble of strange and alien foods behind her, one of Fehnel’s ears flicked a little. Then, she did the tail equivalent of a Human shrug, letting out a pleased chuckle. Whatever had been on her mind was apparently pushed to the side for now. “Heh, of course hun. Let’s treat ‘em to somethin’ special.”
With a newfound kick in her already hastened step, Fehnel began to proudly jog over towards the approaching crowd. By now, we could already begin to make out some faces, each looking more curious than the last.
In addition to the Brachistochrone Inverter itself, Jeela had also taken the liberty to have a reception area installed in the form of a metallic tunnel about the width of three Venlil. The tunnel seemed to fold and bend the anti-gravity energy around it, allowing for people to easily enter the repulsion field without having to tread through a torrent of redirected rainwater. Additionally, a series of hooks alongside the interior of the tunnel also served as a convenient area for the storage of umbrellas and coats, which our guests quickly began making use of the moment they started funneling through.
Fehnel and I stood at the side of the entrance, welcoming in guest after guest with the appropriate propriety. At first, many of them were stymied in their step, staring in awe at the sanctuary-like atmosphere that had been created in the middle of the street. But almost as soon as they got their bearings, most realigned their immediate priorities, and subsequently made a beeline for the buffet tables. That’s what they were here for, after all. Hopefully they’d come to appreciate the actual reason Fehnel was hosting this event soon enough.
As we busied ourselves, the voices of many excited guests made themselves audible.
“I’ve been looking forward to this!”
“Look at the decorations!”
“I feel like I’m in the Capital!”
“Are you sure all of this is free?”
“The ad said it was! Either way, I need to try some of this!”
Fehnel and I watched in delight as the crowd began to form around the tables, a number of plates I had left out disappearing as fast as the eye could blink. However, it was clear that a majority of the attention received had been focussed solely on the more familiar menu items already offered by the Lackadaisy.
“Think they’re gonna touch any of the new stuff?” Fehnel idly commented, her attention still fixed on the crowd. “It’d be a shame if any of it goes to waste.”
“Oh they will,” I answered without hesitation. “Just give them a moment. They’ll be all over it soon enough.”
Fehnel laughed. “You sound awful confident, don’tcha?”
“Oh please, this is hardly the first time I’ve served some wacky new thing to my customers,” I answered back with a chuckle of my own. “If anything, at this point I’d say I’m quite the expert. Just watch. You’ll see.”
Like clockwork, my precognitive claim had been proven true mere moments later. Some soul amongst the table’s crowd had seemingly been more curious than the rest, and ended up taste-testing one of the bruschetta. It was hard to make out from this distance, but if I had to guess, her ears had perked up and her eyes had widened in surprise. What was made clear, however, was their opinion of the new food, because only a few moments later could their voice be heard.
“You have got to try some of this stuff!” she practically yelled at anyone who would listen. “It tastes like the red stuff that’s on the pasta, but like… even stronger! It’s so good I feel like I died and am one with the Stars already!”
Like a Farsul unto a library, the crowd collectively swiveled their ears and began to gravitate towards the bruschetta with eager eyes. A few more voices piped up in glee, each more delighted than the last as paw after paw descended on the strayu until there was nothing scarce of crumbs left.
‘Guess that’ll be the first thing I’ll need to restock,’ I thought with a passive wave of the tail, before a sudden realization crept into my mind. ‘Ugh… Kenta and I might be busier today than I thought…’
It wasn’t long before the elation of trying something new, mixed with the sudden and devastating lack of bruschetta, had urged our party guests to move on to the other, never before seen options that laid out to fill their fancy. All at once, the wall of wool and fluff had spread out the slightest bit as fresher waters were explored. Plates were filled with various salads, despite the unfamiliar bits of crunchy strayu inside raising some skeptical ears. Helping after helping of the technicolour pastries were reached for as well, with the sylvanas not lasting much longer after that. And most impressively, it seemed that people had quickly begun to figure out the concept of Kenta’s cute “bread bowl” idea as well, even without instruction.
That last turn of events had actually caught me the slightest bit off guard. For the bread bowls being quite possibly the most unique aspect of the event – well, that I knew of – I found myself rather impressed by how fast people were getting the hang of it. Sure, it meant that I wouldn’t have to bother myself with having to go around explaining it to everybody, but in my eyes, there was a bit more to it than that. Perhaps it was a case of grasping at straws, but for the briefest moment, it made me wonder whether or not Humanity’s ideas had been affecting my people more than I had realized. Perhaps, if only in the slightest, Kenta had been opening their minds to more unique ideas than I had given him credit for. Without the slightest bit of hesitancy, the partygoers did well to experiment with more than the obvious, quickly wrapping their minds around something completely new and extraordinary.
I exhaled a short-breathed snicker, shaking the thought out of my head. ‘Calm down there, Sylvan. It’s just some soup and a piece of strayu shaped like a bowl. No need to get all philosophical about it. Still, I guess them figuring it out saves me some time. Good, cause it looks like I already need to start stocking the next round…’
I moved to grab my cart so that I could head back inside, only to have Fehnel call out and grab my attention instead.
“Sylvan, hun,” she began. “Before you go makin’ yourself scarce. I think there’s somethin’ about this here party that you haven’t explained yet.”
My head turned out to face her. “Hm?”
“Now, don’t get me wrong… What you did here is great and all. By all means, whenever it is that Kadew decides to show up here with that date of hers, I’m sure she’ll start coming around to the idea of my peoples’ Runnin’ Day. But…”
I now realized that Fehnel was completely focussed on something off in the distance.
“Oh,” I replied. “That…”
I had done well to ignore it up until this point. In fact, if I tried hard enough, I was even able to keep it completely hidden from my peripheral. But the truth was, no matter where I went or what I did to distract myself, there was no denying that it was there – that She was there.
At the opposite end of the dome, an onyx terror lurked over the ignorant, complacent masses. Its wicked enormity great, and the pressure about it even greater. The form it took was terrifying. An alien pose, unknown to the mind, originated from a people feared by many. Its peering eyes descended as domineering malevolence. And from its onyx chassis, a message rang clear as a day personally forged by Solgalick themself: Even if I couldn’t see her; if I shielded herself from my sight all day… No matter what, She could always see me.
“I’m gonna be honest Sylvan, I did not take you as someone that had a thing for Magister Jeela.”
I shot back quicker than a bolt of lighting. “I DO NOT HAVE A ‘THING’ FOR–” before stopping myself short.
Luckily, my voice had not been noticed among the now loud, chattering crowd about us. Which was good. I was pretty sure that my voice had cracked into an almost childishly high pitch. Taking a deep breath, I yanked my composure back, and stuffed an air of professionalism back into my voice yet again.
“I a-appologize…” I mumbled out, my head shrinking between my shoulders.
“No worries!” Fehnel replied. She couldn’t help but let a few chuckles pour into her voice. “I was just teasin’ is all. But seriously, you’re gonna have to whip up a pretty darn good explanation… Else I’m boutta start thinkin’ that what I just said was true.”
I took a deep breath, which soon shifted into a long-winded sigh. “Listen… It was part of the deal, alright? I’m not proud of it, but it’s there now, and unless you’ve got a herd of Mazic heavylifters at the beck and call, I can’t get rid of it.”
“Part of the deal?” Fehnel repeated.
“It’s my end of the bargain for us being able to have this Inverter during the event. And no, before you ask, it was not worth it,” I explained.
I could do nothing but feel immense shame for the inconvenience. To have something so overbearing, so shamelessly grandstanding placed in the middle of what was supposed to be a quaint event about cross-cultural understanding… It was beyond disrespectful to Fehnel’s original request. It took something that the poor woman had been planning for who knew how long, and brutally morphed it into a shadow of its former self. Into nothing but an ego trip for a politician that probably already surrounded themselves with weed biters and paw lickers.
“Listen…” I said, lowering both my tail and ears in respect. “Fehnel, I apologize profusely for allowing that thing to be placed here. I should have put my paw down and just hosted the event inside like we planned. But it’s too late now. I’m really sorry…”
But to my surprise, Fehnel had not been paying attention to my display of humility. Instead, her focus was still on that of the statue.
“I think it looks neat!” she said in a cheery tone.
“Y-you do?” I mumbled back.
“Well yeah!” She wagged her tail to assure me. “Sure it’s a bit, err… unconventional… But I think it’s got quite a bit of charm to it!”
“That’s… one way of saying it…”
“Besides, it might not be the worst thing to have somethin’ from the Magisters here with us,” Fehnel continued to think out loud. “Sorta gives this whole event a kinda official feel, y’know? Like it’s lettin’ everyone here know that the Yotul have got just as much right bein’ under the same heedin’ ears of the Governor as anyone else. Sure, dependin’ on where you are and who you ask, that may or may not be a good thing. But it at least means it’s harder to ignore us now. Heck, might even convince some of the people ‘round here to open up a little to the other parts of us.”
“Well… so long as you’re happy with it, I suppose?” I worded awkwardly.
If I had been completely honest with myself, I was expecting the slightest bit more… Well, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps anger? Annoyance? Unrelenting grief that invariably led to locking yourself in a closet, crying? But there was no sign of that in the rusty Yotul’s eyes. As she stared up at the onyx marvel, I couldn’t help but feel as though there was no sign of the negativity I had anticipated in the slightest. Instead, all that remained was that of a solemn pride. Maybe she was lying to herself. Like it was some sort of coping mechanism that helped her work around this unwelcome development in her plans. But regardless, the end result remained. And I was left feeling relieved at being able to avoid yet another hurdle.
‘Fehnel really knows how to look at the optimistic side of things, I guess… Good. I could really use some more of that around here.’
“Feel free to run along now, Sylvan,” she said, waving me a satisfied flick of the tail. “I’ll keep waitin’ here so I can greet the other guests. And I do hope you and Kahnta can bring out the main course whenever it’s ready. I wanna make sure everything’s ready to blow Kadew’s fur off whenever she decides to get here.”
I had to force myself not to flash a Human smile in return. She and the rest of the partygoers had no idea what was coming. And to a certain extent, neither did I. He did mention he had some sort of “surprise” coming, after all. But I always trusted Kenta for his word, and knowing what my chef was capable of, it never occurred to me once that it wouldn’t live up to the expectations. In fact, I was counting on him to exceed them.
I turned around and headed back to the kitchen. It was time to get the real party started.
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Scrambled eggs with red onion and red bell pepper, vegan chorizo, sliced almonds, Greek yogurt and baby spinach on spinach tortilla.

I am located around this general area and I've got tomatoe plants and squash, cucumbers and peppers (bell, garden salsa, sweet banana) I have a few 1 gal potted perennials, 3 annual planted baskets and I am looking for what would be a really good spot for a generous amount of traffic flow and which area would be better to sell veggies and such?? I appreciate any and all suggestions please and thank you !!!

Hey there,
I'm looking for an "AI enhanced" tool to plan and manage my personal tasks like groceries shopping, activities (sports, meeting friends, hobbies) and similars. I saw that there are plenty of planners like these that are targetet towards work related appointments etc.
Now I'm wondering if there are similar tools that target the personal aspects as described above.
The closes that kind of did what I'm looking for is Trevor AI but they don't have a free iOS application which makes things uncomfortable (I could pay for the app but I don't feel like it's the 100% right fit, otherwise I would consider paying for the service ofc).
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To give you an idea of what I want to be abled to do:
Let's assume I have this repeating Task "Breakfast", every day at 7:30AM:
One cup of coffee is included with every breakfast
Selection by day of the week:
Monday to Tuesday: Overnight oats
Wednesday to Thursday: Oatmeal with banana and cinnamon
Friday to Saturday: Sandwiches made from rustic crusty bread with avocado, fried egg, tomato slices, and cucumber slices
Sunday: Chocolate banana quark

Overnight Oats Recipe

Prepare the day before and store in the refrigerator overnight Fill a mason jar in the following order:

• Rolled oats
• Chia seeds
• Nuts
• Fruits Then add cinnamon and cocoa nibs to taste Optional: Add 1 tablespoon of linseed oil Seal the mason jar Store in the refrigerator

Oatmeal with Yogurt, Banana, and Cinnamon Recipe

Prepare a bowl Slice 1 banana Add 150g yogurt Add 100g oatmeal Add sliced banana Sprinkle cinnamon to taste

Sandwiches made from Rustic Crusty Bread with Avocado, Fried Egg, Tomato Slices, and Cucumber Slices

Prepare the crusty bread Remove the avocado from the skin and slice it Crack eggs into a pan and fry until set as a fried egg Season with salt and pepper Slice the tomatoes and cucumber Spread butter or hummus on the crusty bread Place avocado, fried egg, tomatoes, and cucumbers on the crusty bread

Chocolate Banana Quark

Prepare a measuring cup Mash the banana Add quark and mix with mineral water until creamy Add cocoa and stir finally
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Given this daylie task, I want to be abled to setup a new task "Weekly Groceries shopping" which looks up this "Breakfast" Task which generates me a list of the products that I need to buy. Ideally with the gramms or amount needed for each product for one person.
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Another example would be this:
Let's assume I want to create this task "Prepare Breakfast". It's context should be the recurring Task called "Breakfast":
Prepare the meal for today's breakfast
It should understand that for example its "Monday" and there for the generated preparation steps should be those as described in "Overnight oats". It also would be a huge plus for me if I wouldn't had to describe the steps and rather get them generated by the AI.
I don't know if it's to much to ask for in an AI empowered planner but I feel like this is something it should be capable of, right? :D
This schema could be then used for different scenarios. For cooking, holiday preperations, meetings and so on.