The necropolis was gorgeous, for what it was. Its white outer walls hiding the darker Victorian Gothic interior. The tech that was hidden in the walls though was able to move bodies in their caskets from a designated place in the necropolis to the "viewing area" as the necropolians called it. This was where I waited for my, for lack of a better term, escort to take me to the mortuary. Since science has grown surprisingly fast our abilities for forensic sciences have also grown, and that's to whom I was headed. (S)He was an, unusual (wo)man to say the least. An expert in their field and about as learned as a doctor, if not multi-doctorate. If you ever asked them why they never pursued an actual doctorate, they would get angry and act all prissy while saying that going to school would've slowed them down and all they needed were the basic certificates for their work. The reality though, revealed to me during a drunken bout, they just never liked school and believed that it ultimately stunted a person's growth and ability to question the reality around them, that everything that you need to learn is already in books and in some form or another in digital content online. They were brilliant, if a little wacky. About five minutes after I had arrived and was sitting down in the viewing area, a little box rolled up to me making a couple of beeps to let me know to follow it and immediately started rolling towards the wall opposite of where it came from. When it looked like it was about to hit the wall, a hidden door opened up by the casket viewer, inside was a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. Stepping through the doorway I became acutely aware of sounds seemingly coming from all around me suddenly. It really is impressive, as though I just stepped from a tomb to a busy workshop, the sounds of gas escaping pistons, whirring, and clanking chains flooded my ears. I continued down the stairs following my helpful little box, which despite its size and shape would suggest was actually quite nimble on the stairs. It seemed to have wheels that would extend down to the next step as the edge rolled over it and once the back of the box was clear of the step it would drop back into its squat position, hiding its wheels as quickly as possible. It continued to do so the entire way. The box seemed to notice me watching it and made a kinda shrill whistle and its undercarriage light went from a comfortable yellow to a, is that... Peach? Is it blushing? My god I think it is! I let out a small chuckle and my little blushing box stopped dead in its tracks mid-step, its light suddenly going white, almost blinding me from behind and lighting up the hallway for a split second. Luckily both of my feet were solidly on a step so I didn't take a tumble or anything, but I couldn't help doing anything but laughing harder. After a second the little box crept up behind me and continued down, its status light continuing to show pinkish. I followed it slowly, the chuckle slowly dying in my throat as we reached Ceriths office. Well "office" was being nice. Morgue, mortuary, both of these fit just as well. Cerith was, for the most part, a recluse. We reached the door and the little robot continued through a little hole in the wall. I waited a second and knocked. "Enter!" Came the voice on the other side. I opened the door and stepped through. Along one wall set doors that normally housed the dead waiting to be processed. One out of dozens were open, its occupant missing from its silver slab. The middle of the room was brightly lit from a single overhead light. In the middle of the circle of light stood a figure, long Raven colored hair bound in a single braided ponytail, the rest of them bound in medical examination garb. They seemed to be engrossed in the corpse in front of them. The little robot rolled up next to Ceriths feet and made a little chiming noise. "Thank you Tabitha. That'll be all," said a voice that was neither male nor female from beneath the mask. Just sort of in the middle. "Tabitha? Never knew you to be sentimental," I said gently, the chuckle in my voice making itself clear. "I see you still find even the darkest things funny," Cerith quipped back. "My line of work Cer, you take the laughs where you get them. Look who's talking anyway, you're usually elbows deep inside someone 25/8. Even you have a seriously fucked up sense of humor." That got Cerith laughing, sounding like thunder and the whip crack of lightning at the same time. "You've got me there Julius," Cerith said after his laughter subsided. I think he suits him today. Which is both a good and bad sign. When Cerith is acting like a man, it usually means some grim news, but they are going to try to make it seem like not a big deal and laugh a lot. Plus they almost never call me Julius. Something was wrong. Very seriously wrong. As this realization hit me I got this odd tingle in the small of my back. Like someone had put several freezing needles under the skin and into my spine, something I'm familiar with from the anima-games from the cyber sphere. Halos: Divine Retribution If I remember right. Those Angels were sadistic bastards. I shuddered at both the memories from the game and the shockingly similar feeling I was experiencing. Dread, that feeling is dread my friend, the quiet part of my mind whispered to me. "Cer, what's wrong bud," I asked. He didn't say anything. For a long time. After a few minutes I was about to ask again, but then he spoke. And what came out will haunt me, quite possibly till the day I die . "This ones temporal lobes are gray matter. Nothing even close to being coherent. Just. Dead neurons. And he's not the first." Gone was the jovialness of the past ten minutes. This was Cerith the whisperer. In an almost dead tone they continued, "the others didn't fare nearly as well as this one. Most of the brain is intact here, which means that if they didn't deliver a massive shock or something similar to fully kill him he would have possibly lived as a vegetable with memory issues, but that's not what I'm looking for in this one here now. Now I'm trying to figure out what else the others had in common with him, and so far that's brought up all but naught. Well this one has a bit of liver damage. But that's about it. So Mr John was a drinker. Not much there." When Cerith is "whispering" the best thing to do is just let him be. But I couldn't help but prick my ears up at mentions of others with similar wounds, and the fact that this one had liver issues.... "Cer. You said... CERITH," I finally snapped out and caught his attention mid ramble. "Thank you. You said liver problems. But nothing similar to the others? No drugs? Alcohol? Not even a synth brain-pattern? You checked Everything?" "Well let's see, John here was a drinker that's for sure," Cerith said his hands never ceasing their work as he started to put 'John' back together seemingly satisfied that he found nothing else, " Mr Lombardo in chest 3 had cocaine mostly, and Mr Lei in chest 9 had opium. Although to tell you where it came from for both I'd have to do a molecular analysis and see what it compares to. Other than that, no. Absolutely nothing connecting any of them. As far as I can tell they are all unique cases completely separate from each other except for the damages to the brain. And I only found this by accident. During a routine scan I happened to look at the screen as it passed through the brain and noticed an odd density in his temporal lobes. Just slightly higher than normal. Hell to be honest with you it had the density of a fresh cutie, you know those little oranges?" I nodded, and he continued, "Right of course you do, who hasn't? Anyways it's just super dense compared to the surrounding tissues, and I take a sliver probe and drop it in like you do. And when I turn the damn thing on to look at the neurons the area all I see are dead cells packed on top of one another. Not natural decay death, but forced to die. Most of the cell walls were torn open like they had blown up from the INSIDE. That's when I called you." He finished up with 'John' putting the final few perfect stitches in place and sealing him up for good. Once he seemed happy with his work he called out to his seemingly empty morgue, "Grom I'm done! Can you put Mr John Doe here back in his room? Number 11 if you please." He turned away from the body on the table and removed the giant rubber gloves that went to his elbows. He walked into the dark calling out over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a sec I gotta scrub out, want a drink? I have beer, whiskey, vodka, I might have some Cognac somewhere, and bourbon. Your choice, just call out what you want and Tabitha will be there with it. Also have a seat! We have much to discuss." With that he disappeared from both sight and sound in the dark. It was a neat trick I have to admit, and it had something to do with how he had his morgue set up. Even the giant war machine that was Grom was absolutely quiet unless you managed to catch him through the gloom. I thought for the longest time the reason why I could never catch him sneaking around was from some sort of stealth program put into place, but when he goes up and down those stairs he's as loud as can be. So it was definitely not his program but the way the morgue was built. I'm confident in saying that because when I turned back to look at the table, or rather where it was, there was now a chair that looked like it had just grown out of the floor and the body was gone. Also the thought of something as big as a fridge just sneaking up on some poor combatants and snapping their necks as quietly as he walks in the morgue just gives me the heebies. As I sat in the chair a thought occurred to me. Considering how advanced the morgue seemed to be it would make sense that it had some sort of AI or integrated computer. "Computer?" I had been here a million times but I'd never had a chance to think about it nor try anything. But not even a second after I had said anything a response came. "Yes Detective Julius. My name is DANNA. Or Dynamically Actualized Neural Net AI. How can I be of service?" The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, slightly feminine and breathy, all service but no sex. Honestly I was just surprised that it worked. "DANNA, I was just wondering if I could take a look at the files that Cerith had mentioned? If it is as bad as they claim I think I might need to know anyway. Also if you can get those blood works done for me I'd appreciate it. Also something with whiskey or rum would be amazing." "Of course Detective. I will have Tabitha bring it shortly. And how would you like the information to be displayed? Desktop or dynamic?" That piqued my interest. "Dynamic please." No sooner than I had said a series of screens blinked into existence in front of me. It was some sort of Holographic display. I reached out and touched the display and was surprised that I got stopped by something. It was hard but surprisingly I found that I could push into the screen with my finger if I pushed hard enough. It kinda felt like... Oobleck. I also found that by pinching the corner I could pull the screens closer or further from me. I even found that I could grab individual pages of the reports off the screen and hold it. It felt like a thin sheet of plastic and responded like both a tablet and a singular document. If I switched pages the old one would appear back onto the screen and the next would pop onto it. This was about as slick a set up as I had ever seen and whistled my appreciation under my breath, I'm definitely going to have to ask Cerith about where they got DANNA from. "See something you like, big boy?" A very DEFINITELY female voice said in my ear from behind, soft and throaty, screaming come hither. I felt small dainty hands gently caress the tops of my shoulders before slipping down the front of my chest, pulling me back into the chair that I didn't realize I had been slouching in. "You know better than that, Jules. Your back is important and slouching will destroy the muscles and cause some to atrophy." The voice left no room for argument, and left me more than a little bit flushed. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back as far as it would go, the back of my head hitting something soft and warm, stretching my neck and back out. "Damnit Cer I thought you were scrubbing out, not completely changing." I hadn't realized it, but at least an hour had passed from when I started playing with the computer and working with the files if the clock on the computer was to be believed. "You looked like you were pretty into it so I decided not to disturb you. Plus you know how much fun it is for me to tease you like this. Especially after, well these..." One hand waved at the screens in front of me. The small hands' nails were painted the darkest black and almost made them blend into the void that existed outside of the screens. "I do Cer, and that's part of the problem, we both know that it's never going to happen. Least of all for you." She laughed a little, a clear beautiful sound and the body beneath my head bounced slightly telling me I was against her stomach. "Still I know you enjoy these little moments," she said, the pressure on the back of my head disappearing and was replaced by the voice right by my ear again as she whispered, "especially when we both know that's not at all true." At the last words she nibbled my ear gently. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her, in spite of my baser instinct rising to meet her VERY juicy insinuations. But for as long as I've known Cerith and as many times as we have both been VERY drunk, they have NEVER cashed in. I just assumed that it was a quirk of theirs. "Anyways," she said standing back up, "what are you thinking so far about the files? Spooky, right? Like I said, nothing that I can see connects them." Her hands gestured in front of me in an approximation of a shrug. She then clasped them together, wringing the knuckles and effectively trapping me in the chair and back against her abdomen. I scrubbed my eyes with my fingertips acutely aware of the growing headache that suddenly made itself known. "Your right from the medical side. I can't see everything you can, of course. I don't have near the knowledge that you have," which is true being that Cerith is at least 200 years old. I never asked directly, the old adage still holding about women and their age. Still though her answers to certain questions would lead one to believe her being her first adult car was a Bing Cherry 2201 Firebird GT with white walled hover trim and chrome accents. From pictures that I could find it looked like a slick piece. Looking back to the screens I couldn't help but feel that itch again. I couldn't explain it. That prickly feeling of ice needles again, this time in the back of my skull. As much as I'd hate to admit it. I think Cerith is right. I sighed heavily before saying "send me everything. I'll open a new case file and have the team start working on it first thing." She made a happy noise and bounced slightly, clearly satisfied with my decision to take it on. I reached out and to my left and a glass was placed gently into my hand by Tabitha. I hadn't even realized she had come over while I was working and was now ready for that drink. Room temperature rum and cola. The drink went down smoothly enough considering I drained the glass in one gulp, during which time I finally got a good eyeful of Ceriths current form. Or rather the underside of part of it. From what I could tell she was wearing a black T-shirt. That was it. I put the glass back down, it's job done without moving my head and said, "What a lovely view Cerith. I'm guessing you chose this to try to get a rise out of me?" I couldn't lie though it was affecting me, but I couldn't let her know that. Not when she's like this. Otherwise she'll continue to tease me till she leaves me with the absolute worst case of blue balls this side of the City. Her hands came up and cupped my chin almost lovingly, and her voice said "Of course Detective. Do you not approve? Or would you rather I change back to my medical examination form? Or something else?" Her words dripped with implied sex. I groaned, loudly, and said, "This is fine. Jesus Cer." Before we could continue our most scintillating of conversations there was a sudden PING! And DANNA said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a message for you Cerith. It says 'If you can get to the department Cerith, do so. We need you to explain your paperwork. And if Detective Julius is still with you have him come in too.' signed the Chief. Would you like to reply?" 'shit, I forgot the morgue kills all signals,' I thought to myself as I stood up gently (regretfully) prying myself from Ceriths grasp with a, "duty calls. Need a lift?" I stretched gently, the scales in between my shoulders clicking appreciatively for the stretch, and turned around to notice she was indeed, just wearing a black T-shirt that hugged her voluptuous figure closely. The scales in my back clicked shut in surprise. Cerith let out a small cute chuckle, "I see after all this time I can still surprise you," she said blowing a kiss my way, reminding me of a little Gothic pixy. I rolled my eyes away from her and willed my scales to relax. I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair, slinging it on and clicking the neck clasp shut under the cord that connected my scales to the unit in my head. I was awarded the cybernetics upon completing my training and getting all my licenses to have them. The force had allowed me to customize it, I had chosen top of the line. A dual unit with custom built AI. The individual scales were ceracoated titanium microprocessors all running in both series and parallel, and could move to expel heat or react. The main unit was the same except it was one solid unit that replaced a chunk of skull. Once that was done I zipped up the front of the leathers and ran the scales through the racer setting. They clicked and flattened against the outside of the jacket, securing it to my back. I shrugged making sure it was comfortable. "I'll take the fact that you're only in a t-shirt you'll be along shortly?" "Certainly detective." Her voice was filled with dismissive submission... And sadness? I looked back at her and noticed her makeup was gone. Or had she had any on in the first place? I gave myself a mental shake. There's no way. This was Cerith, veritable goddess of the necropolis. I put the last few minutes away for review later. Chief called. I have to go. On an instinct I thought long dead, I reached out and squeezed her hand. I felt a slight squeeze back. And then she let go with a, "Go on, be a good detective. I'll be along shortly." I left with Tabitha as my guide. Before Cerith disappeared into the darkness I thought I heard her whisper, "please don't leave." My scales raised in a saddened response. I couldn't be sure I heard her right though. If I heard her at all. I reached back and stroked them, knowing my ai probably heard her, and knowing it could feel me touch the scales. After a few seconds the scales settled down. 'I know buddy,' I thought to the AI. It couldn't respond like usual AI. The force thought that was too dangerous. What if it went rogue? What if it tried to kill the host and take over? The list went on and eventually they decided the basics were ok. When I got my unit one of the first things I did was jack it into a diagnostic to see what kind of hardware I was dealing with exactly because manufacturer specs from real use are sometimes different with AI if the bits and bobs are in place. When I did, all I got on the screen was 'Hello?'

Hi! My boyfriend (28M) and I (25f) have two male, neutered cats that are a year old. My boyfriend’s roommate got a kitten because their cat recently passed. They adopted her from a hoarders farm. She was the last one of the litter. Originally, we thought the kitten was a male, but found out she is a female since being spayed.
Since bringing her home, she has been terrified of everything. We keep her separate from our boys, but it has been a lot. When she is out, our boys have to be in my boyfriend’s bedroom and when our boys are out, she has to stay in the roommate’s ates bedroom. The bedrooms are fully equipped with everything they need, but I wish they all could just have full range of the house always.

1. How can I properly introduce the roommate’s spayed, female cat with our male cats?
2. How can I help the female cat become less afraid of everything? She has toys, a cat tree, a cat fountain, places to scratch, places to hide, etc. and she is still scared of everything. We have been playing with her using toys and she plays once she’s comfortable, but it isn’t sticking long term.
3. Could the roommate’s female cat be lonely and need a companion cat? I know that you’re generally supposed to adopt cats in pairs, but this was kind of a rescue and she had no other siblings left. We really can’t add another female cat into the house. Our 3 cats is the max. Will our male cats be able to socialize safely with the roommate’s female cat with time?
4. Any other advice would be helpful.

Thank you!

I tried looking for this last year but I gave up, he has too many videos 😂 But I thought I would try here anyway.
Can anyone help me find a song I heard in a Mark video? I only remember some details. I tried searching for it previously but youtube history tab is very unreliable.
-The game it was in was NOT cartoony.
-The song was playing on a TV in-game. It was a boxy TV in a dark room. That makes me think it could've been a horror type game, but can't say for sure.
-Unfortunately I don't remember how old the video was. I can only estimate like 1-5 years ago. So not one of his OLD old vids.
-The song had haunting/nostalgic/old timey vibes. Sort of like how Daisy Daisy gets used in horror games. It's a woman singing with piano. To give you an idea of the vibe, literally any Molly Drake song. It feels like a lady singing a lullaby. It's not super happy and upbeat, it feels kind of dreamy and times-gone-past.
-I actually DID go to the youtube video of the song, so it exists and has a video, although I don't know the origins of the video and whether it was made specifically for the song. The video was a family (man, woman, one kid) in a country setting. It was a ranch style house, I believe. They went on a picnic at some point, or maybe they only mentioned it in the lyrics? There is a part of the video where the wife and boy wave the dad as he drives off in a car.
-When I read the comments of the song's youtube vid, people said it was a poem a man wrote and his wife sang it. It was really sweet!
Any help is appreciated! I have a seriously poor memory so I hope this rings bells for someone.

I tend to have issues with both sides. Liberals tend to be idealist without recognizing practicality, like in terms of economics their arguments for their policies is just that they want a good economy with low poverty and a healthy middle class, but fail to explain how. I do have far, FAR more issues with the conservative end of the spectrum, particularly social conservatism.
There is no sugar coating it, the Conservative ideology is run on targeting a specific population, they want a scapegoat. Before the civil rights movement, conservatives believed that black people and women should not have the same rights as white men, and then made them the political enemy. In the 80s it became gay people, when HIV became a pandemic, and made gay people the political enemy. Now, it’s transgender people and folks with mental disorders. Of course this is very simplified, but it is true that conservatives hate transgender people.
It seems to be whenever a group of people gain new rights, conservatives go in and try to strip them. Nowadays it’s gotten way worse, because let’s face it, extreme conservatives are bullies.
I came across a conservative Instagram page called YAF (Young Americans for Freedom), and boy oh boy is it terrible. One thing they do is find videos of political enemies, often emotional, and just destroy them, but not in a clever way. They use memes to insult the political opponents. People with mental health issues and LGBTQ people show frustration with conservatives, conservatives will belittle their entire existence and say they belong in a mental institution. That is bullying at a large scale, and it is really hurting trans people. I don’t care about the “logically they’re XX or XY” when LGBTQ folks are committing suicide or getting murdered at a far higher rate than non LGBTQ people.
Unfortunately, it may be working. Trump is favored to win the election over Biden, and social conservatism is gaining lots of power. I fear if there is another Republican trifecta this fall, the following may happen in following years.
-Complete ban on trans rights -possible criminalization of homosexuality and gay marriage -Ban on birth control -Education freedom completely stripped/all schools are Christian -ban on the sales of electric cars -mental institutions brought back to widespread use to eliminate people who are socially inconvenient
Although these may seem like a long shot, I’ve seen some warning signs from really red states, and I fear if there is a republican trifecta that can turn the Supreme Court even more red, these are real possibilities.

Full disclosure: I do not speak Frisian or play guitar. I do not know very much about music theory or linguistics. This is just an observation I have made. If I’m using any terms incorrectly or misunderstanding something, please feel free to let me know.
When I say Frisian, I am referring to West Frisian. I haven’t listened to enough of the other dialects of Frisian to say if it applies to Saterland Frisian and/or North Frisian as well. To a certain extent, what I am saying about West Frisian also applies to Dutch, which has a number of differences from Frisian (fewer vowel sounds, for example) but is closely related to it and has a similar feeling.
When I say “mathy or twinkly emo” I am referring to the more energetic subgenre of midwest emo influenced by math rock and post rock that became more prominent in the late 2000s and early 2010s. Some refer to it as twinkledaddies. However, there is a more specific branch of twinkly emo that I believe shares the same feeling as Frisian. I am not talking about the more glum, atmospheric, and post-rock influenced twinkly emo. Empire! Empire! (I Was a Lonely Estate) and The World is a Beautiful Place and I am No Longer Afraid to Die do NOT sound Frisian.
I think Algernon Cadwallader is the best example of a band whose guitar work sounds like Frisian. I Love Your Lifestyle is a good example too. There’s something about the whimsical energy of these bands that can also be felt in Frisian.
With all of that said, it’s challenging to pinpoint which traits of Frisian and twinkly emo are responsible for this feeling they have in common. Even if we were to say that arpeggios, DAEAC#E tuning, or writing music in this or that key signature, that would not explain why Frisian and this corner of emo are connected.
English is closely related to Frisian and most Midwest emo bands are composed of people whose first language is English. I don’t find this to be a compelling explanation at all though. Countless forms of music have sprung from the Anglosphere that do NOT feel Frisian in the slightest. There are many examples of artists making twinkly emo or music that sounds very similar whose tongues do not descend from Hengist or Horsa. As much as I adore the English language, I don’t think it’s responsible for the similarities between twinkly emo and Frisian. Also, there was that one post about the guy from Uruguay back in the 80s whose guitar playing sounded really similar to today's midwest emo.
In all likelihood, this is a case of cultural convergent evolution. So far, I have not found any evidence that these early emo revival bands were going for a Frisian-inspired sound or have any connection to Frisia. Over the course of centuries, the Frisian language evolved to sound the way it does, and then later on this subgenre of emo independently captured the same feeling as Frisian phonetics. Were similar selective pressures placed on them to mold some deeper essence (what some might refer to as “vibes”) in both Frisian and twinkly emo into twins? There are some things in language and music that may always remain mysteries. The most well known example of convergent evolution is that things keep evolving into crabs/crab-shaped animals. Rather than analogous body shapes, this can be thought of as two separate cultural phenomena (music and language) developing analogous essences. To compare it to the phenomenon of carcinisation, it would be like if a proto-crab evolved into a crab and then a bird evolved into a crab-shaped bird. They are both animals and both crab-shaped but not related.
Perhaps the simplest way of putting it is that the essence of twinkly emo is shaped like how the sound of Frisian is shaped.
So, what do you all make of this? Have you noticed the connection too? Do you have any theories on which traits of West Frisian and the more energetic twinkly emo influenced by math rock their common essence/“vibe”? Do you have any theories on what caused it? Although I am not religious and therefore would find any explanations involving divine guidance or some other supernatural force hard to believe, please do not hesitate to share such theories if that’s what you believe. I always try to keep an open mind. I have no interest in disputing anyone’s faith in a higher power so long as it is not pushing them in the direction of blind hatred, violence toward innocent people, or pacifism in the face of a monstrous enemy. If you believe God played a role in this, I want you to feel comfortable sharing that but I also don’t want a conversation about music and language to turn into a religious debate. Let’s try to keep things on topic and civil.

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

Klaus Schwab is 'stepping back from his executive role' in the WEF ( https://www.cnbc.com/2024/05/21/world-economic-forum-davos-founder-klaus-schwab-to-step-back-from-executive-role.html )
He was used at the end of his position in a very strange way. All those terrible quotes and seeing him looking like an evil Darth Vader type... that was really strange.
I never could figure out how making WEF seem so villainous served their goals...
Now it's obvious they knew he could be used that way since he would be out before long anyway. But what was the point of it?
I've always speculated that the complete and total absurdity associated with everything related to "Covid" and the push for the vaccines was so they would target a very specific demographic:

• Gullible/naive people
• Unintelligent people
• Follower types
• People with no backbone or ability to resist peer pressure
• People who would harm themselves and their own families for 'the greater good'
• People who would turn against their own kind
• Weak people unable to withstand hardship
• Addicted consumers who would shoot up a needle directly in their body in order to keep consuming nonstop

Sorry, no one wants to hear that but if you think about it --- that was their target demographic. To anyone thinking and/or paying attention, they made it ridiculously obvious that those shots were a bad idea.
Here were some clues:

1. Widespread censorship of citizen thoughts and opinions
2. Widespread censorship (and worse) for people in the science/medical community
3. Constant assertion of easily disprovable lies
4. Insane & bizarre measures to coerce people
5. Economic things that made no sense
6. Sending sick people as young as 20 into nursing homes even though the hospitals had already been emptied (and then censoring anyone who showed others that the hospitals were empty)
7. Blatantly exaggerating risk in obvious ways (testing only sick people in order to claim a high IFR)
8. Pushing the PCR test to a whopping 45+ cycles (a test that will detect anything with a high enough cycle threshold)
9. Making sure we knew that the people on the inside weren't following their own orders (elite/politicians had large unmasked parties, non-stop footage of authorities not wearing masks but pulling them up for the camera and off right after, etc., newscasters peddling fear vacationing maskless around crowded pools in Florida and other places that reopened or never shut down) etc.
10. Pushing unhealthy lifestyles, division, and hate during a time we were supposedly in "the worst pandemic of our lives"
11. Using expected deaths to trick people into thinking the death count was unexpectedly high. (~80 years ago began a massive global ~25 year baby boom. You can't have a baby boom without a death boom later on -- it's simple math. Anyone that explained this was shamed, censored, and banned.)
12. Intentionally death protocols -- separating people from their families and then administrating medications that killed them
13. Blocking treatments that appeared to work
14. Encouraging people to go out in the streets and protest in crowds while simultaneously shaming others for stepping outdoors
15. Arresting people for harmless activities, like walking their dog, being alone at a beach, or fishing at a pond, etc.
16. Lying about the shots being "approved" when they never were, and when called on it they said, "Well the approved shots are the same as what's being given to people so that's good enough!" Without telling them that they would be excluded from the National Vaccine Injury Compensation Program(!) ... And for the few who bothered to look it up, they claimed there was a "Countermeasures Program" to
17. Bold, blatant lies, coverups, and censorship with regard to vaccine side efficacy, adverse events, and death.

I could go on and on... But if you were offended by my prior list, look through those 17 examples and just try to tell me the first list is wrong.
It's not. This is the sad truth no matter how upset it makes anyone. It is what it is, and we were all attacked from within by our own governments...
And there's something critical about the way Klaus Schwab intentionally played the part of a cartoon evil villain. They didn't cast him that way and dress him up like a Space Invader for nothing. That played a role in this psychological operation -- it's just hard to tell precisely what.
For those of us who pay attention, it will likely become clear later -- as most people (from the first list) are caught up in the next Current Thing. Those who haven't yet succumbed to the long term effects of what was done to them. One of the most profitable mass poisonings in history.
(You may have noticed Pfizer & Moderna heavily investing in treatments for cancer and heart problems. This is no coincidence.)
PS. For the coincidence theorists out there -- don't forget that in the court of law people are convicted based on 'coincidences' and 'circumstantial evidence' all the time. Here in California juries are ordered to treat circumstantial evidence on the same level as direct evidence. When a series of coincidences add up to form a pattern -- they aren't coincidences anymore. And we're WAY past that point now.
But will they ever be held accountable? No, the naive & weak who allowed (and even encouraged) them to do this would rather stand in their defense than to admit they were wrong and hold them accountable. And that is probably why they were targeted in the first place. "Useless eaters" as Klaus Schwab's right hand man called him. (Their words, not mine.)

This is my first reddit post and honestly it's a lot so please bear with me. I'm still trying to figure out how to process everything and make sense of it all. I guess we will start at the very beginning. My boyfriend,( we will call him michael) and I just passed 6 months together. Honestly, hes been great. We clicked pretty fast and have a great bond. I feel safe and comfortable around him and can communicate in a way ive never been able to before. It just kinda works. I definitely fell hard and fast for him and from what I could gather, the feeling was mutual. We had met on tinder in early October and went on our first date in November. We made it official shortly after our first date.
After we started dating, he had briefly mentioned that he had a friend who had a bit of a crush on him. I told him I didn't mind and I trusted him. As long as he kept things respectful to me, it didn't matter. He then explained that her crush was a bit obsessive and he actually wanted to push her out of his life and needed advice. Apparently, this friend, (we will call her beth) was pregnant and wanted Michael to be her baby's God Father. He said that she would follow him and got jealous when he was with other girls. I found this kind of odd but he swore they were just friends, so I told him the best way to let her down gently and let him do his thing. About two weeks later, he told me she was out of the picture. I didn't really care either way but the communication was cool.
Anyways, I pretty quickly forgot about all of that because it was irrelevant and I wanted to focus on our relationship. One night when we were hanging out, he got a snapchat notification. He turned away from me to respond to it but I didn't think much of it, just asked who that was. He said it was just a friend (we will call this one Jen) and they were catching up. I had never heard of her before but I didn't care, I just said cool and dropped it. Just like before, I quickly forgot about that conversation because again,it was irrelevant and I had better things to think about. I trusted him so why should I care who he talks to? He is his own person after all and I understand the importance of friendships.
Fast forward about another two weeks later, him and I had our first argument. I dont remember what it was about. Most likely something small and pointless because I had a stressful day at work but nothing too serious. We did not talk much that day. Later that night, I apologized and we talked it over. Everything was fine. He then told me that earlier in the day, an old friend that he had removed off social media readded him and messaged him. We will call her Molly. Apparently she had just noticed she was removed and was upset and wanted to know why. He told me that he sent her a message explaining that he didn't see her in his life long term and doesn't feel the need to keep someone around who won't be around forever so he didn't want to be friends anymore. He then removed her again. At this point I thought the way he acted was odd. I had never heard of molly before, he waited until he had already removed her before telling me about the conversation, she only came into the picture when we had our first argument and it got me thinking about the other girls who were just friends. I definitely started to over think a bit and was more than curious about who these people were and what their relationship to him was. But he swore they were all just friends. So I continued to believe him.
We went a long period of time without anything coming up so once again I forgot about it and moved on with my life. Him and I were doing great. We were young dumb and in love. I felt truly happy, something I hadn't experienced in a long time. I felt like I genuinely found someone who was right for me and I didn't need to second guess whether or not he was gonna cheat on me. He occasionally would ask to see my phone but I didn't have anything to hide so I allowed him. I had set a boundary with him that if he ever felt concerned or needed reassurance, he needed to bring it up to me first. After we talked it over then he could see my phone, but we would always go through it together. This seemed fair to me. My phone was never off limits, there just needed to be open communication. Anyways, he would always offer for me to see his phone in return but I would decline. I didn't feel the need to and I had learned from past experiences that if you go digging, you will most likely see something you can't unsee.
Then one day he needed to have his wisdom teeth removed. I dropped him off in the morning for his surgery and I was told I needed to hold on to his personal belongings and wait until the operation was over. No big deal. I know this is wrong and I shouldn't have but finally curiosity got the best of me and I looked on his phone. At first it wasn't malicious. I genuinely was just curious. But of course, I saw things I wish I could unsee. It started off on tiktok. In one of his conversations with a friend, he poured his heart out, explaining how he was still so in love with his ex and missed her like crazy. Of course it stung a little to see the things he said but I knew there was someone before me so it wasn't that surprising. That was until I saw those messages had been sent in mid October. So of course i was like huh.we started talking early October and dating early November. So clearly he wasn't over his ex when he met me. But I was willing to forgive it. It wasn't a deal breaker. But Instead of putting the phone down to protect my peace and his privacy, I kept looking. And boy did I find a lot. I found lots of old text messages from contacts that were not saved. Most of then were hard-core sexting and flirting. This dude literally acted like a dog.And yeah it was again hard to see but it was before me and he wasn't like that anymore. With me, he was gentle and respectful and never treated me like an object. Some people just go through a phase and that's okay. Again, it wasn't a deal breaker. But finally i found some very passionate, lovey, intimate messages with an unsaved contact. I was immediately drawn in by the kind words and heartwarming love messages. Whoever this was, they cared for eachother very strongly. I almost immediately felt heartbroken. Not because she was a past love interest, but because he had never spoken to me the way he spoke to her. I read all the way from the top of the conversation. Months worth of love confessions, paragraphs of strong feelings, longing to be with one another, etc. But finally halfway through in one of the paragraphs I see a name. Molly I was shattered. Molly was the girl who supposedly was removed months before him and I even met. The one that was "just a friend" who messaged him and he removed her because he didn't want to be friends anymore. Yeah clearly they were more than just friends. I was livid and felt crushed. Why did he feel the need to lie about something so unnecessary? I wouldn't have been mad if he had told the truth about who she was. But then it got me thinking. Was Beth truly just a friend? Was Jen truly just a friend? What was the actual relationship? I gathered up as much as I could but then the nurse came to the lobby to tell me he was awake and ready to go home. I kind of panicked and in my hurry, I forgot to delete the screenshots out of his phone.
We get in the car and I give him his phone, he's still pretty loopy. Obviously I had a million questions to ask him but I knew he wasn't in the right state of mind to have that conversation so I put my feelings aside and decided it could wait. Well he wanted to take pictures of his bloody swollen face and send it to his uncle. In the process, he sees the screenshots i had forgotten to delete off his phone and immediately screams what the f*** is this? I tried to talk calmly and explain that now wasn't a good time to talk about it and it could wait. He kept pressing "what the f*** did you do? Who the hell is this?" In my mind I thought "uh dude, you tell me." But didn't want to escalate it while he was drugged up. I decided the best option was to simply say that I wasn't mad , I stilled planned on taking care of him while he recovered and that we would need to have a conversation when he was in a better state of mind. He just started sobbing. Oh boy. I kind of ignored it as much as I could. I drove us to the store to get ice cream and other soft foods he could eat before taking us back to my apartment. I helped get him set up in my bedroom and he still was crying. So much so he started coughing out blood. It smelled awful and got everywhere. He was a wreck. I felt bad for everything. I felt guilty for going on his phone behind his back, for leaving the screeshots on his phone and for him crying. It took several hours but eventually I got him to calm down. I kept my word and continued to take care of him until he was recovered.
Finally when enough time had passed I decided it was time to sit down and talk about it. I explained that obviously I had found messages and i wanted an explanation. He told me molly was just a friend, and very clearly it was more than that. I also explained that I had a suspicion that he was not fully honest about his relationship with Jen and Beth either. He looked me dead in the eyes and said he had no idea what I was talking about and they were just friends. I remained calm and explained that I won't be mad at him or leave him. I told him I didn't want to fight. I just felt as though I deserved to know the truth if I was going to continue to be with him, especially since he was still in contact with Beth and Jen while we were dating. We continue to go back and forward for several hours with no progress. I decided then if he didn't feel I deserved the truth, I would find out for myself. I took the screenshots I had found and reached out to the contacts one by one.
Let's start with Beth. She was the quickest to respond. I briefly explained who I was and that I was hoping to ask some questions about my partner because I felt like i was being lied to and was hoping she could fill in some of the gaps. She texted back and simply asked "do you work at blank" I responded that yes, I did. She then asked if I lived at a specific apartment complex. I said yes and was creeped out. She knew where I worked and lived. She then asked if she could call me. I agreed. For some context, he told me that she was a friend he had met in school. He explained that she had gotten out of a rough relationship and he wanted to make sure she was okay when it happened. That's how they became close. He explained that they would hang out all the time and eventually she became obsessed with him. Well during my phone call with her, I heard a very different story. Yes, they met in school and initially started off as friends. But, slowly with time as they started to spend more and more time together, they started to catch feelings. He said I love you first. And she proved this with screenshots. She also sent me pictures of them holding hands and kissing. She explained that they never officially started dating but they definitely were more than just friends. Their relationship was much more physical and romantic than platonic. She also told me that they had hooked up about 3 times. She explained that they had eachothers location and pretty frequently they would make plans then he would last minute cancel. So she would see what he was doing and would see him at two very specific addresses. Visiting my work or my apartment. She eventually asked him where he was and he told her that I was his cousin and was trying to get out of a rough relationship so he was helping me. I felt sick. No wonder why she was "obsessed" he was borderline dating her, telling her he loved her, and then started to ditch her when he made things official with me. Then it killed me to realize that even though they never had an official title, he was dating the two of us at the same time. I didn't know what to do. I ended up apologizing to her for everything he did and told her I never would have agreed to be his if I knew he was entertaining someone else. Michael overheard this phone call between us and looked like he had seen a ghost after. All he did was started crying, said she was lying, and that she was only a friend. I asked "so....these screenshots and pictures are all made up?" No response. He knew he was busted.
I decided I needed to take some time to process that information and I didn't want to say something I would regret. I let him stay at my place because he had nowhere else to go and I went to stay with a friend. He kept calling and texting but I couldn't deal with it. I cried all night. I was a mess. I should have just accepted that I was cheated on and lied to but I couldn't leave. I needed to know the truth. So I kept reaching out. Next up was Jen. I never was able to reach her, but I found out through Michael and Beth that Jen was Beth's best friend. But even more than that, I found out the three of them had a threesome together. He had told me previously that he had never been interested in a threesome and would never want to have one. Then I found out not only did he have one and lied about it, but it was with two girls he told me were just friends.
I went back to my apartment the next day and tried to talk stuff out. He just continued to say they were just friends. I finally snapped. I screamed and cried and told him that I just wanted to know the truth. That I deserved the truth. He looked me in the eyes, pinky promised me no more lies. We talked for a while and basically he explained that he never had an official title with Beth. They were very close but he basically just used her to pass time because he had nothing better to do. He said he loved her because that's what she wanted to hear and he treated her like a partner without ever having any real feelings for her. He knew as soon as he met me that he wanted me but didn't want to hurt her so he just kind of pushed her to the side but kept her in the picture. I felt so sad for her. He used her. He led her on. He treated her like an object and then threw her to the side when he met me.I asked why he lied about having a threesome. He said he felt ashamed Apparently they started to do it and then he chickened out so he didn't really count it. That made sense to me. I was pissed that he lied but at least it made sense. Next I asked why he told me Beth and Jen were just friends instead of being honest about the relationship. He said he never had feelings for either and they never had the official title so he didn't think it was important and he did not want to scare me off. I explained to him that although I understand why he lied to me, I didn't forgive him. I warned him that I would not tolerate anymore lies and obviously for the time being I did not trust him. I told him I wouldn't break up with him but if I found out he lied again, he would lose me. I also told him I considered what he did as cheating since he was seeing us at the same time after him and I became mutually exclusive. After we concluded our conversation about Beth and Jen, I started thinking about molly and the messages I had seen. I asked him what their relationship was, he said just friends. I freaked and told him to give me his phone. I found their old messages and told him to read them. "Hey goofball, you awake? Well if you're not I have something impossible to say to you. You are my sun, my moon, and all my stars. I love you lots and want you to know that no matter what happens I will always care about you. To me you are perfect. Amazing. And attractive asf. You are also very sweet and caring and adorable. Don't think about the negative things about yourself that will drag you down. You are way more than that. This is an official goodnight and I love you goofball." This is just one of the MANY messages sent back and forward. He reads the conversation and just goes oh. He then says he didn't remember any of that happening. We began to argue and the story he tried to spin was that his life must have been so traumatic that his brain literally deleted his past memories and replaced them with false memories where he didn't do these things that he is ashamed of. He got caught in lies and after so long was just like...whoa I did that? I had no idea I didn't remember. Technically I didn't lie because I told what I thought the truth was the way I remembered it. I told him I wanted to break up and he cried and begged me to forgive him and stay. I listened.i tried to move on and make things normal again but I couldn't stop thinking about all the lies and what else he might have been lying about. Then randomly one day, Molly added me back on social media. She was the last and took over 1.5 months so honestly I figured I'd never get ahold of her. I was genuinely surprised to see her show up on my friend list and reached out. Once again back story, he told me that she lived in Wisconin and they had never met. He said he was also using her for nudes and to pass time, same way he used Beth. He had told me that he removed her off social media months before him and I even met and aside from that one night she reached out, he hadn't heard from her in forever. I found out from her that she did not live in Wisconsin, she lived in the same state as us That to her, they were definitely dating and in love. I also saw a messaged saved on snapchat where he had been texting her in October (after we met) and even sent her the same pickup lines he had sent me. he had cheated with not just one, but two (at least that I know of) other girls.
At this point I had been broken so bad I didn't even feel the pain anymore. I just went numb. I had no more tears left to cry and couldn't be bothered to care anymore. I stopped eating and taking care of myself. I just went to work, came home, slept and repeated. I had watched the man that I loved and adored, one that made me feel so safe and happy turn into a monster right in front of me. He wasn't him anymore. I finally could see him for who he was. But I still didn't leave. He told me that he had only ever slept with three girls. I later found out it was actually six. He told me he had never been in love before. I later found out he tells basically every girl he's ever talked to that he loves them AND genuinely was in love with his ex before me. He told me after his ex and him broke up, he had a rebound but he only hooked up with her once before ghosting her. I found out they actually dated for several weeks, hooked up several times, and she had taken cute couple pictures with him and posted them on social media. He said that he never wanted to take those pictures, she made him put his Hands on her and pose and if he didn't cooperate, she would throw a tantrum like a child. One last thing I think that is important to mention,when we went on our first date, I told him I don't do hookups. We stayed out late and hit it off really well so I offered for him to stay the night at my place. I said I was okay with cuddling and whatever but I did not want to have sex. He seemed okay with it. I went to bed and then when I woke up, my pants were off and he was inside me. He claimed he didn't know I was asleep and thought I wanted it because apparently my butt kept rubbing against him while we were spooning.
It's been about a month since all that and I'm still just meh. I haven't exactly forgiven him but I also don't hate him. Things are normal. I act normal we still do couple things. But I can't help but wonder if he is just using me the same way he used them. I mean after all, he lives in my apartment rent free and asked me to buy him a truck for his birthday. He says I should forgive him because he genuinely doesn't remember doing these things and he didn't mean to lie to me. He said he's so ashamed of who he was but isn't like that anymore. He doesn't associate with who he was and wants to be given a chance to show that he is different. But can I ever forgive him? Should I? Where do I go from here? I feel so lost and confused. I dont think I'll ever be able to trust his word again. I dont feel secure. He broke me so bad I can't even feel anymore. Am I crazy and somehow making this a bigger deal than it is? Can I ever have the man I fell in love with back? I'm sorry if this was confusing. I'm typing this all out in one sitting. Please help me because I genuinely am so lost and I don't want to tell any friends because I don't want them to hate him.
TLDR: My boyfriend cheated on me with at least two other girls that I know of at the moment and has lied to me about too many things to count. His argument is that It doesn't actually count as cheating because he technically didn't date these people and he didn't remember doing it.

I just had so much fun playing today that I absolutely have to share this.
Oh boy, this session had everything except romance, and the party was in the middle of a dungeon (and they still are) so I’m gonna go ahead and say that’s okay. There was intrigue, there was stealth and recon, there was a dragon, there was loot, there was teamwork, there was roleplay, there were shenanigans, everyone got their moment to shine and we ended on a cliffhanger.
And as the DM, I am proud to say that not a lot of this was my doing, the group just suddenly clicked and the stars aligned. I have been struggling lately in terms of enjoying the game as we play. I have a lot of fun planning the sessions and I have a lot of ideas after we play, but the sessions themselves have been more stressful than fun. Today was the complete opposite. I knew I had prepared well and had all the maps and handouts ready from the previous session so I just went with the flow and had an absolutely wonderful time.
There was a fight with an adult dragon, whose breath weapon recharged every turn btw, and it got very hairy for a minute. But there was a beautiful small redemption arc for the elven ranger whose failed stealth check initiated the combat, when they scored two critical hits and freaking CHUNKED my beautiful white wyrm. But I got to play around with fly, breath weapon, frightful presence and legendary actions, so I am very satisfied.
Two party members went unconscious, but the newest addition to the party (their previous character just died two sessions ago) happens to be a peace domain cleric so obviously they got their chance to shine.
The dragon tried frightful presence and flying away as a last ditch effort after being blasted by the aforementioned ranger, but the warlock managed to just get into range for a final strike.
The dragon’s hoard was raided, magical items were found, and their packs are now bulging with coins and dragon parts.
The party then proceeded to scout the rest of the dungeon, and managed to lure a minor bad guy from a previous dungeon (they managed to escape) away from the big bad of this section of the campaign and into a trap. Cue the hold person and an angry vengeance paladin, and it’s bye bye bad guy. The party is currently in a flying castle and they dumped his body from the sky. Great fun was had by all as we imagined the various scenarios that could play out when the body finally hits the ground.
The warlock then uses disguise self to make themselves look like the minor bad guy they just threw down, and boldly attempts to lure the actual big bad into the same trap. Cue the low deception roll from them and a high insight check from me, and the stage is set for a glorious cliffhanger. Big bad stares at them with nothing but hatred in their eyes, and begins to cast detect magic..
Now, I am fully aware that I am not doing a great job of explaining the epic nature of the session we just had (plenty of other things happened as well), but it was one of those sessions where the dice just simply wrote the story. There were critical failures and successes exactly when the story called for them - arcs were being bookended, started and finished left, right and center - and this feeling that I am currently experiencing is the reason this is the greatest game ever created. No amount of preparation or planning or writing could have resulted in a better scenario than what the fates had in store for us today.

For THH I’d have to say Kyoko is my favorite character. I usually love detective characters in any piece of media and I also really like her relationship with Makoto
My least favorite has probably gotta be Hifumi or Junko. Hifumi was annoying asf and expressed borderline predatory behavior at multiple points in the game
Junko was a fine mastermind in the first game though I still thought the hope and despair thing was pretty dumb and kinda cringe even the first time but she just kept coming back and as a result overstayed her welcome
My favorite case in THH is with no competition 1-2. It had so many twists and turns and memorable moments. The genocider reveal, Byakuya messing with the crime scene which was the first time we experienced antagonistic behavior from one of the students in the series, Chihiro being a boy and Mondo’s sad backstory. I loved the antithesis between mondo and chihiro. Also this case is unique cause the murder was done on impulse and wasn’t pre meditated, in contrast to almost all other murders in the series, which made this case even more real to me.
Worst case was 1-3. Because Celeste is just retarded here and so is the rest of the cast. I mean why would the killer want to show which order they killed the victims in with the numbers of the hammers? Celeste is extremely obvious as the culprit and I am convinced she wasn’t even trying to hide it. Throughout that entire trial whenever the cast figures out something Celeste just outright lies and denies it AND THEN GETS PROVEN WRONG. It’s just her who does this, even if she wasn’t the culprit I probably would have still voted for her for acting so suspicious. The name coincidence with Yasuhiro was super dumb and contrived too. What’s most offending though is that the game is trying to convince you even before Celeste gets executed that she’s a good liar. No dude she’s not a good liar, Gonta would probably be a better liar than her. I don’t really mind the unsympathetic motive weirdly, but the rest was awful
For SDR2 my favorite character is Fuyuhiko with Hajime and Chiaki as close 2nds and 3rds respectively. Fuyuhiko had such great character development and a really emotional trial. Even though he was a Yakuza he debatably was one of the most ethical characters in the cast. We stan Fuyuhiko
My least favorite would have to be Akane. Akane is just a waste of a survivor spot. She’s not useful in class trials, she’s not that interesting (yes I’ve played her FTE I still don’t like her) and her being hungry all the time was not funny. The survivor spot should have been given to Hiyoko who really really sucks as well cause she got no development and died a hatable little bitch. What’s worse is that she was gonna get development. And no it was not worth it for Akane to live for the sake of Nekomaru’s memory cause we already have Sonia being a survivor in Gundham’s memory. I am sorry I really don’t like Akane 🙃
Favorite trial is 2-4 I loved learning how that funhouse worked it was really unique and interesting. Also Nagito’s personality shift in this trial was really good too. Gundham was great here, sacrificing himself for the rest of the group while putting on the mask of the villain so they wouldn’t feel sad plus his relationship with Sonia was really cute and seeing her beg Monokuma not to execute him was heartbreaking. Also this was the only murder in the series which was basically consensual besides V3-2 since both Nekomaru and Gundham were ready to sacrifice themselves for the group
Least favorite is 2-3. I- I don’t think I even wanna get into this. The despair disease is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a video game. Literally if anyone else got Mikan’s disease they’d have killed as well, she killed just because she was unlucky. Hiyoko’s murder isn’t even discussed, it’s like no one cares and everyone just assumes the same person killed them both. Mikan who is the clumsiest character in the game pulls inhumane shit that makes no sense and on top of that they assassinate her character by the end of the trial. This is the worst case in the series, fuck 2-3
For V3 my favorite character is Kokichi, he’s my favorite character in the series and one of my favorite fictional characters. He’s so darn complex and interesting and embodies the themes of the game perfectly. I really don’t like how a lot of the fan base seems to mischaracterise him as either some UwU boy or evil incarnate cause the truth is he is very much somewhere in the middle, probably in the grey area but I’d say he’s leaning towards the good side more. I can literally write a 500 word thesis on why this little lying bastard is peak but I won’t get into it here. I also love Shuichi, Kaito and Maki overall they are my 4 favorite in the franchise. I love v3 if you couldn’t telll
As for least favorite I really don’t think V3 has a single bad character imo they were all used extremely well and are all memorable and unique in their own way but if I had to pick one it’d be Tsumugi. I know she had to stick around for the Mastermind reveal but she’s just so boring throughout the entire game which I know is the point but I still would have much rather have had someone else in her place
For my favorite case I’d have to go with V3-5, it’s my favorite in the series actually. This is probably the most complex case in the entire franchise and it pulls it off really well without feeling too convuluted. There so are many twists and turns and great moments here like Maki confessing her love to Kaito, Monokuma teaming up with you and everyone having to come to terms with the fact that kaito was the one who died. Also the fact that the 2 characters who liked each other the least cooked up a plan to defeat the mastermind, really epic plus it was cool to see that Kokichi really wasn’t all that bad in the end and wanted to end the killing game his own way even if that meant he had to go to extreme lengths to do so.
I really don’t think V3 has a bad case I quite enjoyed them all but if I had to pick one as the least good it’d be V3-3. Crazy how all my least favorite cases are chapter 3’s. But unlike the other 2 this one is not as bad. Yes, Korekiyo’s motive is extremely odd and weird but to me it felt kinda refreshing to see a student that was completely mad and done well, looking at you Celeste. If you do Korekiyo’s FTE you’ll understand why he does the things he does and the fact that he mistook his abusive relationship with his sister as love and as a result became mad. It’s pretty interesting, Kork isn’t just funi seesaw dude. He also killed some the 2 most annoying character in the cast so good on you Kork. Other than that even though I didn’t like Tenko I think she went out in a great way passing down her wishes to Himiko and ultimately making her a better and much more interesting character worthy of being a survivor. There are a lot of great emotional moments with Himiko here. The reason why this is my least favorite trial is because of the missed opportunity of having 2 killers. Before we get to that it should also be noted that most of the trial is spent on tenko’s death which is kinda weird seeing as it’s not the one that matters for the entire cast to survive. The fact that the game gets your hopes up for there to be 2 blackends and the fact that they may have to live with a killer among them is so darn disappointing when you learned that Kork killed them both. Overall even though this trial isn’t on par with the rest of the V3 ones I still think it’s a good one despite a lot of people not liking it

Hey there to those whom it may concern,
Long story short, the class's medium difficulty in terms of a more general scale. For a math person, it shouldn't be a problem at all. I took the class with Dias Plinio Bicalho (ended up with an A) and I'm just surprised at the low average of the exams while the content's pretty straightforward. Just make sure (for his class) you know everything on the PowerPoint and don't question anything even if they seem to make no sense to you in the first place — that's the way of living in the Econ domain.
You don't need STATA (although they recommend you get one) and I highly suggest that you don't get one. Because STATA is not important for the success of this class as long as you know the format of the code, and can read the STATA chart associated with linealogistic/etc regression & interpretations of which; it's there for you to experiment with, and clarify your knowledge (but if you are rich, nvm).
I do have to advise you that this class is VERY proof-heavy. Make sure you understand how each proof associated with a specific formula works around. You must be able to use secondary conclusions you derived from your previous proofs and how you can apply them to prove something new.
Exams (for his class) are much recitation with a bit blend of analysis. Make sure you know word to word the stuff he wants you to know for the recitation part (free points). For the analysis part, it's not hard either but requires a deeper understanding. There might be, occasionally, one or two real hard ones on the exams (proofs you've never seen or tricky questions) — well, bona fortuna.
Bicalho does give out extra credit but don't even think about it because it's psychological warfare. You can try to get the extra credit he randomly gives in class (by answering or asking specific types of questions that he thinks are worthy of extra credit). He might very likely give you an R-Studio assignment for a 5-point extra credit. But trust me, you don't want to spend too much time on it. It's just the equivalent worth of a multiple choice and it takes you like... 36 hrs min (idk I never did it)? You can use this time to actually learn and solidify your knowledge — know your tradeoffs!
Finally, a little tinge of info on the grading scheme (for his class): 25% midterm 1, 25% midterm 2, and 50% final. But if you did really badly on one of the midterms, you can also do the highest midterm 25%, and final 75%, depending on your performance.
That's it. All the best luck in your future endeavors.

Hi all, longtime listener, first-time caller. Please see my query and first 300 below.
My biggest question is this: 95% of the story takes place in 2014, but the book opens in 2020 when my main character receives a letter from the California Dept of Fair Housing & Employment informing her of an investigation into behavior at Chatpic. Receiving the letter spurs her to tell the story of what happened back then. The book checks back into 2020 in the middle as my MC tries to get more information about the investigation, and then it ends back in 2020 again when she decides what she wants to do about the letter.
The reason the story takes place in 2014 is because the time period--pre #MeToo/Donald Trump/the workplace reckoning of 2020--informs the decisions the MC makes back then, and she's looking back at it from a wiser perspective. If you've read The Rachel Incident, Caroline O'Donoghue does a similar thing as she retells a 2008 abortion story from the perspective of present day.
In the end, the investigation is not a driving force of the plot--so my question is how important is it that it's mentioned in the query? I ask because I've found that trying to add that piece to what I've already written starts to get convoluted, though obviously I can work at it. I think it's very clear once you read the first 300, but for agents who don't want a sample, is it clear in the blurb that this story is looking back to a time gone by?
Mostly looking for insight on this question specifically, but if you have further feedback about the letter for first 300, open to that as well. Thanks!
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear [Agent],
Thank you for the opportunity to submit my query for TERMS OF SERVICE, a true-ish fictional story about a young woman in a nearly impossible workplace a la UNCANNY VALLEY meets THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA (with shades of 9 TO 5). TERMS OF SERVICE is complete at 95,000 words.
It’s 2014 and down-and-out celebrity blogger Maggie Clarke is desperate for a fresh start. Not only is she broke in New York City, but at 31, she thought she’d be writing something a little less embarrassing than Justin Bieber listicles by now. When her longtime internet friend Aron York–recently named the world’s youngest billionaire–offers her a lucrative position at his massively popular social media app Chatpic that puts her at the center of his inner circle in Los Angeles, it’s exactly the step-up she’s been waiting for. As Maggie learns to manage the always-on hours, the slew of acronyms, and the unlimited access to free cold brew, she encounters another more complicated problem–the boys’ club. Except this isn’t the typical ham-fisted sexism she’s used to–this is the tech bro variety: insidious, inexorable, and infuriating. When she meets an ambitious young reporter who encourages her to speak out, Maggie has a shot at revenge. But in a world before mansplaining and microaggressions, is blowing the whistle worth the risk? And is anyone ready to hear it?
Like Maggie, I was also plucked from internet obscurity by the world’s (then) youngest billionaire, [redacted], to come work at his massively popular social media app, [redacted company]. I was a founding member of the company’s content team, and all I have to show for it is six footnotes in the [redacted company] biography [redacted title] and the brutal feminist awakening that inspired me to write this manuscript. Before that, I was a full-time writer in New York whose work has appeared on MTV, Rolling Stone and Elle. Currently I’m a content and editorial consultant in Chicago, and I’m also on TikTok where 21,000 people watch me rant about work and office culture. (It’s also where 2M people enjoyed my show-and-tell video about the “sentimental” stock certificates [redacted company previously mentioned] gave a few early employees–that were worth exactly $0.00.)
As the agent who represents [Author 1] and [Author 2], you have a strong list when it comes to complex female characters embroiled in complicated social dynamics. TERMS OF SERVICE would be a great addition to this track because, while similar themes of class and workplace are explored, my flavor of levity and sarcasm makes my work distinct from [Author 1] and [Author 2], bringing a new facet to your program.
If you are interested in reading TERMS OF SERVICE, I would be happy to forward a sample of any length you suggest. Thank you for your consideration!
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
First 300:
Chapter 1
2020
A lot of people might revel in the idea of receiving a letter announcing an investigation into their ex-employer.
One might, for example, envision draping themselves in a mink stole, lighting the cigarette at the end of their old-timey cigarette holder, and dialing the investigator’s number from a rotary phone atop a solid wood desk under shadowy, film noir lights. One might then imagine whispering I knew this day would come into the receiver between bursts of psychotic, hysterical laughter as they rejoiced in the long overdue arrival of the long arm of the law.
But me, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe because I didn’t have a mink stole.
No, I was crouched on the ground of my parents’ musky basement in Des Plaines, Illinois, knee-deep in piles of old diaries and CDs when I received notice of one such letter. It was month four of COVID, and Dad and I were only halfway through his cleaning list. He was already a germaphobe so a global pandemic was all he needed to justify a top-to-bottom disinfection of the entire house. And since my routine trip home in the middle of March turned into a hapless extended stay when the world shut down, it was the perfect excuse to put me to work. Just like the good old days.
We wiped down every square inch of the place. We soaked the faucet heads in lemon juice, we scrubbed the coffee mugs with baking soda. We vacuumed the damn fridge.
Reorganizing the basement shelves was a beast. Every box was like a Russian nesting doll of useless crap: old TV Guides, corroded double-A batteries, dried-out cans of paint primer, an unsettling number of hand saws. I made decent headway through the “tools” and “electronics,” but I lost all steam when I got to my high school stuff—faded Polaroids and folded-up notes stopped me in my tracks.

I have absolutely no idea what to do. I have nobody to rely on. I don't know what to do. I am 19f. My life is a complete shit show. I was bullied not only emotionally but physically throughout my childhood, primarily due to being neurodivergent, though I didn't know that at the time, just thought I was "weird" and nobody liked me despite being a kind kid. I was obsesssed with early childhood education, reading books by Maria Montessori and writing teaching philosophy statements at the age of 8. I was paralyzed for about a year at the age of 11 and suffered severe medical trauma in the hospital as well. I felt my autonomy was stripped away from me and various professionals there, looking back, were abusive and negligent. There in the hospital I remember wanting to die for the first time. When I got out, the bullying just got worse because now I had the whole being-in-a-wheelchair-thing going against me too. I ended up doing stupid shit to impress my peers and try to make friends, which just meant that I was constantly getting into trouble as a younger teen, which didn't help my mental health. I tried to kill myself at 13. My mom slapped me in the face while I was bleeding from my wrists and told me I was going to ruin her reputation and that I couldn't go to the hospital. I really needed stitches, I still have very visible scars from that day. She sewed holes in some long sleeved shirts for me to put my thumbs through to hide my arms at school and told me not to tell anyone. Things were never the same between me and my parents. I began at 14 seeking validation from adult men online. It was stupid and reckless, but it helped in the moment. I was kidnapped a week before I was supposed to start high school by a 33 year old man. He drove me to a different state 500 miles away, raped me, and tried to strangle me to death before police came. They treated me like a suspect and handcuffed me and made me sit in a cold car for 3 hours in the middle of the night. There was an amber alert sent out all over. I was put in a psych ward for about a week and then began 9th grade at a new school as "the girl from the amber alert" to everyone around me. Everyone was talking about it and asking for specifics and making jokes about what happened to me. It also made me a target for older boys who thought it was evidence that I was easy to manipulate. One of them ended up being the reason I had to leave school a month later. I did online school with my now emotionally abusive parents for several months before starting at a new school. But then, covid shut everything down again, and it was all taken away from me. My mental health was terrible and my parents opted for an unhelpful tough love approach. I became very hypersexual due to my trauma, which ended in me being assaulted more times than one. My parents blamed me and began to resent me, their words not mine. I entered a long term relationship at 16 with a boy I truly loved, we will call him K. K got me pregnant and I wanted to keep it, but my parents forced me to get an abortion with illegal drugs. It was traumatizing and I spiraled. A mentor figure who was a family friend betrayed me horribly. K got me pregnant again. I was on birth control, though everyone believes it was intentional, it was not. My parents said I could either get an abortion or leave home, so I moved out at 17. I got my shit together. For a while, things were good. I got an associates degree incredibly quickly and began a successful career in early childhood education as I had always dreamed. I worked my way up to a lead teacher at 18 and loved it. K and I were so happy. He proposed. The kind of true love most people never get to experience. Most of my peers drifted away during my pregnancy. I didn't care, I had K, my unborn baby, and my job. Then, while in labor, I found out K was cheating on me the entire time. I forgave him and we tried again, though I was postpartum and heartbroken. I stayed home with my newborn son while he worked, or so I thought. Really, he got fired or never went to every job I thought he had. He would drive there and turn his data off so his location was set there all day. He would stage pictures and talk about work. Really he was cheating, doing drugs, and playing video games while I was at home with our baby. His anger issues got worse and he'd get violent but not to the extent that I couldn't justify it to myself. His whole family knew. The cycle of him being caught and apologizing profusely and then doing it again went on for a while before he said that he needed to get out of his house where his cheater DV father was impeding his progress in getting better. I love him. It made sense, his dad was clearly where the behavior stemmed from. I left my housing program to get him out and we all 3 lived in hotels for a few months. I had to sell my body to afford a place for us to live. I was working full time as a lead teacher it just wasn't enough. He still couldn't keep a job but he wasn't lying or cheating. I got us a nice apartment all on my own. Things were good for a while. His anger issues would flair up at times but not as bad, and no lying or infidelity. We had so many heart to hearts. We got married. I did great at my job. He started doordashing for income. Things were going well. Then 6 months into our marriage, about 9 months after we moved out/7 months after we got our apartment, he sprung on me that he wanted a divorce. That was about 7 months ago now. We have been living together and I have been hoping to rebuild. In his vows, he swore so sincerely and in such great heartfelt detail to do better and be better and stand by me. And then he just through it all away. He has been so mean lately. Sometimes things are okay and it's like everything is the same. But he thinks I don't clean enough even though I try and he says I don't support him emotionally even though I really feel like I do. I also pay for everything, I even bought him an 800 dollar PC a couple months ago. I got really sick a month ago. Like vomiting 10+ times a day. I thought I had a stomach bug and didn't have money to go to the doctor over something so trivial that would clear up on its own. I made too much for medicaid but still not a lot. After only 4 days of being gone and feeling like shit, my work fired me. After another week or so of feeling sick and getting so weak I thought I was dying, I went to the hospital. They said all the vomiting had made me very dehydrated and I was lacking in a lot of vitamins. They gave me medicine and an IV. Turns out I'm pregnant and have HG. I'm pretty far along. At first K was supportive but now he acts like I'm trying to "trap" him with a baby, which doesn't even make sense. We were having unprotected sex and the only birth control was that I am breastfeeding, which he knew, so it isn't that crazy of an outcome. He has been so cruel and angry, saying terrible things. He threatens to leave when he gets mad so I beg him to stay because he knows I'd be all alone and I love him a lot. He has said some terribly cruel things and it's like every tiny thing I do wrong makes me the villain. Yesterday he blew up on me and it was scary and terrible. Today, I found out the few friends I thought I had hate me. One of them sent me the most cruel message I have ever received completely unprompted. I have no family support, no friends, my husband hates me, and everyone I've ever cared about except my son (who is different because he's too young to understand and he loves everyone and he is also a responsibility) wants nothing to do with me unless they are using me. I am so suicidal. I know a lot of people are suicidal but I am genuinely at a point where I am close to doing something I can't take back. But I can't because of my kids, both the 1 year old and the unborn one. And as much as I know I should be grateful for that, it feels so unfair. I've been having to do things I don't want to for money again. I have another great teaching job lined up but I don't start for at least a month. I feel like I should go to a hospital but I live in a state with a very high child removal rate even in cases of just mental health. I am a great mom, even though my husband and ex friends do not seem to agree. I can't risk having my fitness as a parent called into question over an unrelated mental health issue, especially since K's family and lots of people in my life would love the chance to lie about me to cps, and since I'm not employed right now, it doesn't look great. I don't know what to do. I feel so alone. I'm so so hurt. It feels like everything is falling apart. Not that long ago, I was a lead teacher, a wife, I felt like a respected and respectable person. Now I just feel like my train wreck of a life full of trauma has taunted me with this perfect picket fence life that I worked so hard for just to rip it away from me and leave me a useless unemployed incubator that everyone hates and is only holding on for her kids sake. The only people who talk to me or "care" just want to fuck me. Even the people interested in a relationship with me and seem like "good Christian men" are still driven by lust even if they disguise it to themselves. I have never felt so hopeless. I feel like I don't deserve this but everyone from my partner to my parents to my ex friends seem to think I do so maybe I'm just fooling myself.

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ACADEMIC TASKS MY TEAM AND I CAN COMPLETE:

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TOP 20 REASONS WHY I'M THE MOST LEGIT EXAM, HW, ONLINE CLASS TUTOR ON REDDIT:

1. Team of U.S. Academic Experts: I and my team of dedicated academic experts complete all types of academic coursework for students in most math, English, science, business, humanities, social Sciences, computer programming, and foreign language classes on a 24/7/365 full-time round-the-clock basis. This is not some part-time gig for me. It’s literally my primary source of income. I can regularly make myself available to help students with last-minute & same-day academic requests.
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3. 75+ Types of Academic Software: I am highly skilled & experienced in using over 75+ types of academic software and educational platforms including the following: ALEKS, Blackboard, Brightspace, Canvas, Cengage, WebAssign, ConnectMath, Crowdmark, D2L, Moodle, Pearson MyLab and Mastering, MyMathLab, MyStatLab, MyOpenMath, StraighterLine, WebWork, and Wiley.
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• Exams & Quizzes: Final rates for exams and quizzes depend on various factors including: whether or not there is proctoring, how many hours the exam is, total number of questions including sub-parts, preferred method of me delivering solutions, whether it's show all work or just the answer only, and whether the assessment has a flexible window of time to complete or a fixed & rigid start and end time.
• Full Courses: Final rates for full class help depend all the foregoing plus: total number of hw, quizzes, exams, discussion posts, and other academic tasks left that need to be completed, total number of weeks or modules left in the class to complete, and whether there is required multi factor authentication for logging in like Duo Push or text passcode.
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• Rationale for My Rates: I sincerely believe my rates are more than fair considering my education, skills, native born U.S. resident status, legitimacy, and the substantial amount of value, stress relief, and saved time & energy I’d be providing you in exchange for my valuable, irretrievable time, energy, and effort.
• Disclaimer About Rates: Completing someone else's exam, essay, or homework assignment is obviously NOT something you can just freely ask anyone to do, especially on the internet. Therefore, such help should be well-compensated. Services that are reliable and deliver high-quality results are difficult to find and are very high in demand. Thus, I expect to be compensated fairly for all the value, stress relief, and saved time & energy my services provide. However, I may be willing to negotiate rates if necessary.
• Payment Methods: I accept PayPal (required for all Canadian students), Venmo, Zelle, Cash App, and anonymous credit & debit card payments via online invoice.
• Payment Plans: I offer the following payment plans for my services: weekly (most expensive), monthly, half-now / half-later, and all upfront (least expensive).
• Money Back Guarantee: I guarantee the following grades for coursework completed: A+. A, A-, B+, B. and B-. However, I offer a 50% refund for C+, C, and C- grades, and a full 100% refund for D+, D, D-, and F grades.

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

• Engage in a Telephone interview: Speak with you on the phone and answer any questions you may have so that you have the opportunity to assess and analyze my tone, articulation, and accent. I’m a New Jersey-born Irish/Italian-American, but I have been told that I speak in an erudite & articulate suburban American accent with a “professor style” voice somewhat resembling the voice of actor: Ben Stein.
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• My Mission: Thank you for taking the time to read my Reddit post. I take what I do very seriously and I always strive to get the highest possible grades for all students who entrust me with their coursework.
• Closing Words: Please feel free to reach out to me if you're sincerely interested in having help you with your school work. I am available via text, email, and call almost 24/7/365.

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your comptia or any other WGU Exam or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
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When theorising in astrophysics, and more specifically the beginning and expansion of the universe (the big bang), the phenomenon of black holes and the mysteries behind dark matter and dark energy, we mistakenly use the two concepts interchangeably, they being 1. The philosophical zero, ie nothingness, and 2. The mathematics concept of zero, ie summarily attaching the philosophical concept of zero, with a numerical designation because it greatly assists the functionality of mathematic in the paradigm of our observable reality. Also please bearing mind the the math concept of zero allows negative values, unlike the philosophy, and when discussing space time, there is no place for negative numbers. Now that said and made clear, I believe it impossible for us to attempt to explain the unimaginable, without separation and distinction of the two concepts when infinity is brought into the conversation. Infinity, like zero, is a philosophical concept not all that dissimilar to zero, it has a mathematical conceptual basis also, but unlike the philosophical zero ie nothingness, it is given a numerical designation that more accurately relates to it philosophically, even though it is not strictly a number and cannot he used in any tangible calculation, mathematics certainly allows for its philosophical manifestation into mathematical equations.
I see this as a huge conflict, especially as it the very essence of big bang theory ie from nothing came infinity at the moment of the big bang. We surely cannot hope to solve this puzzle if the universe if we are conceptually flawed at he very starting point. 0 and infinity therefore cannot be used together in any calculation because we haven't yet reconciled the two conceptually. How can we look at this differently? How can we navigate passed mathematical dogma a concepts our brains are not capable of truly understanding on a practical level?
These are very tough existential and philosophical problems. So rather than just critise the current order and point out what I see as conflicts, but offer no alternative, may I suggest at least a starting point for discussion and exploration which may be found in the area of fractal science/mathematics. And a good place to focus the beginning of any theoretical discourse, in my opinion would be the work of, amoung others, Mandelbrot and the set named after him, the Mandelbrot Set. I suggest this because it mathematically the most relevant area of a field and is largely avoided by the popular culture's interest in fractals which is largely forcused on aesthetical beauty, particularly popular with the psychedelic subculture which I believe has a place and time to be investigated as a part of the whole discussion, but maybe for now should not be a point of focus in fear of contaminating a sterile discussion with with larger philosophically arguments about what is reality, due to the psychedelic substance insights of those schools. To incorporate any talk of altered states of consciousness, may be counter productive at this time. Hence my Mandelbrot suggestion achieves the mathematical parameters I believe are the best for theoretical mathematical support and cancels out the annoying noise that the fractal science field makes due to its attractiveness to non mainstream pop culture.
The Mandelbrot set is intriguing, not only because of the almost mindblowing graphical capability of AI, for as the Mandelbrot set seen by AI and then visualised for us to see, is nothing short of unbelievably beautiful. It also has an ability to provoke inner hought and discourse without one knowing the subject, topic or reason for the quiet peaceful internal discourse it inspires. I mention this, not because it can directly be incorporated in the radical discussion, but experiencing the astonishlng complexity if its beauty and the way it continues infinitely (or rather as long as it continues to be observed) because if the very self contained nature of the Mandelbrot set. After all, the mandelbrit set is simply a set of numbers, that when placed in the equation, do not spiral out into infinity. The equation value is always >0 or <2. So what as I see as irony, as the set was designed to avoid infinity in a sense, what it actually does is provide us with the best possible conceptualisation, in practice and theory, of a model demonstrating infinity. Even more bizarre is that the technology had only recently become available to show us visually by AI graphing. I'm not sure without the visual stimulus, could we have seen how beautifully fractal science demonstrates its potential unravelling existential and theoretical mysteries. I believe it lends itself perfectly to my proposed theory.
I think so because infinity is difficult for the human mind to grasp, some may say impossible. What is even more difficult for our minds to grasp is infinity of reducted values. Basically, if infinity can exist in an expanding sense, then it is not a stretch of conceptualisation to think it can infinitely get smaller. This breaks no rules of science. Searching for the building block of the universe has been crusade of quantum physicists dating back to the creation of the scientific theory. Much money and effort has been spent in search for smaller and smaller still subatomic particles. What they do is fractal science in its purest form, yet like with the study of Theoretical Astrophysics, quantum science theory is its self hampered by the concept if zero as a number, in my opinion. Even doing the work of factually reducing matter, they are blinded to its possible futility, should fractal reduction does forever decend in to fractal infinity or -ve infinity. For if that is the case, maybe quantum theory is in fact mankind's first exploration, albeit unknowingly, into what may well be a black hole. That is for a later discussion but certainly worth bringing to the attention for the purposes of this discussion.
So if we can accept that -ve infinity is as equally viable and logical as +ve infinity, what room in this discussion is left for the inclusion of zero? 1/r = 1/0 = infinity is a useless equation in understanding black holes. To say 1/r approaches infinity as r becomes closer to 0, is a much better way of phrasing it. It is in essence exactly what I refer to +be and -ve infinity and immensely helpful in understanding black holes, there's no equation that mathematics can put forward it's anywhere near as helpful because mathematics has to use zero and by its own rules and attempt to explain a fractal infinity is undefined.
I believe this leaves no room for zero in the same conversation as infinity. I am not suggesting zero should be stricken from mathematics. However I am suggesting that mathematics use of zero may, invalidate is ongoing use as an effective tool for measurement and communication, when the subject is beyond our ability to comprehend. Few people will argue that our 6 senses are significantly lacking the capacity to comprehend cosmological dynamics. Mathematics nothing more than an application of our 6 senses, to make sense of the chaos occurring all around us. Over hundreds and thousands of years, this is the best we have been able to do in terms of calculation and accurate prediction of future occurances. Even the concept of zero is less than 1000 years old. The Romans saw no use in incorporating it into their model, and to this day we wonder at their and other ancient civilisations ability for astonishing accuracy in measurement and prediction. Look at all they, the Egyptians and others managed without using zero in a single calculation. We can also break this down out of our conscious paradigm into nature. Numbers do not exist in nature (that includes the universe). It begs the question of do numbers really exist? Are numbers no more than part of our delusional reality? Who knows, but one thing is for sure, zero certainly doesn't exist anywhere outside of our consciousness. Not even in our own very bodies. How bodies clearly hold a knowledge that hasn't seemed to be passed over to our conscious, aware selves. Even on the smallest scale, without any intervention or guidance from any sort of intelligence, within our cellular membranes. Complex calculations are constantly being carried out. Consider cellular replication for example. In order for a cell to divide successfully, there must be a correct allocation of resources, let's just say primarily energy distribution for the sake of brevity. To split a cell but calculate the energy necessary to simply cary put the force of splitting. It must also calculate how much energy needs to be transfered to the new cell. This calculation must include how much energy for it take to replicate all cellular matter, how much energy is required for both cells to recover from the trauma, and how much energy on top of that, the new cell will require to become mature and begin its own replication. There are multiple complex calculations to be made there, and they then must be combined in to an overall and more complicated calculation again. All of this is done without intelligence and without using numbers ie mathematics. This same process can be observed all the way back to the very first beginning of not just life, but biochemistry in general. So I hope this demonstrates that the universe doesn't exist numerically. There are no rules in the universe. We created rules for our sciences, because if we didn't follow them the sciences would fail at unacceptable percentage of predictions.
So we make rules to overcome the shortcomings while waiting for future technologies or fixes. Mathematics and sciences are little more than a carefully ordered tapestry of rules, with too many exeptions for too many rules. We create rules and ideas to assist the conteived & malfunctioning intangible thing to not have to go to all the trouble of finding something that works better. We are just littered with examples through every field. Like 'zero', or Pi, or "bimdas" (brackets, indicies, multiply, division, addition and subtraction. I find this a good example, for not following this exact order of calculations, a correct answer to equation will nev a result) and thousands of others.
No rules exist in nature, it appears to be that it just is, always will be and always has been.
So in summary, given our restrictions on trying to understand the universe, namely intelligence, our 6 limited senses, our arrogance and our mortality, should we narrow the pursuits our restrictions can make us comfortable with? Thisbwilk lead us nowhere. By abandoning zero as the only accepted scientific approach to the universe, and allowing science to have multiple validating throeries for what is the same problem. The scientific community abhors divergence from dogma and academics are held to ransom with funding or being published, if their ideas are not with acceptable parameters.
But for the sake of this conversation, can we discuss the merits of looking at the big bang without reference to nothing ie zero, but instead +ve and -ve infinity.

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

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Chapter 168 – The moment to live and the moment to die
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„Jumping!“ an Ensign announced loudly as the Sun's view-windows very briefly flickered into a dark black only to go back to a full view of the ongoing battle basically instantly, having barely shifted the ship's position at incomprehensible speed. „Shot clear of allied ships.“
Vice-Admiral Kazadi tapped his finger on one of the armrests of the Commander's seat that still felt anything but comfortable for him to sit in as the tight grid of flashing lights reflected in his eyes within the twilight of the bridge.
“Fire,” he then ordered. Not even a blink later, a burst of colorful light broke into his view from the side of his very own ship, lighting up the entirety of the bridge even through the automatically tinting windows that absorbed a lot of the harmful light so the crew wouldn't flashbang themselves with each shot.
The relativity canon fire tore through the enemy ship at an almost literal instant with any travel time barely being conceivable to a mortal mind. In a large unload of energy that left almost the entire stern-side of the zodiatos ship as a molten mass of dispersing slag, the main propulsion was taken out. Simultaneously, the two accompanying cruisers had also taken their shots; with the 'Civil' taking out the engine of one more enemy vessel while the 'of the roses' had instead used its shot to disperse one of the enemy projectiles in order to buy their own hunter ships more freedom of movement. Those huge ones didn't go down easy from one of the hunters' smaller shots, so using one of the large canons to dispatch it took some of the heat off them.
Meanwhile, smaller targets on the enemy vessels, such as their own canons, were gradually taken out by said hunters, whose own fire – while able to be quite destructive if intended no doubt – could be used in a far more precise manner. With more and more of their canons failing, the protective volleys the coreworld terrorists could fire to hide themselves away also became less and less effective.
“Send the fallback-beacon,” Kazadi then ordered, since close quarter attacks became less and less necessary.
It seemed that the zodiatos had a hard time adjusting to the combat style of the human unkindnesses, however that didn't mean they should take any unnecessary risks. Even if a pilot could've been able to avoid all enemy attacks in a perfect world, he knew that his pilots were only human.
Casualties of their own had been comparatively minimal so far, however as if to prove him right about his thoughts, he could see on his surveillance screen how, just in that moment, one of their ships was taken out by an enemy craft.
He grimaced to himself and let out a mild sigh. One more family who would never see one of their own again...
It took a moment before all the ships were reached by the beacon. Due to the nature of their own combat strategies, as well as the particular nature of hyperspace, it was entirely impossible to effectively contact any of their ships directly while they were out in the battle. Therefore, the order to fall back had to be broadcast as a general signal, that each of the pilots could individually pick up as soon as they would keep still for long enough so that it could reach them.
By now, the battle was already won. None of the zodiatos' weapons were able to match the relativity canons in effective range and without the larger ships to back them up, their small hunters wouldn't be able to launch an offensive – shields or not. They could just stay back and fire until surrender now. As the signal was picked up, one of their ships after another disappeared in one last flash of hyperspace as they joined back up with the larger vessels in an enclosing formation.
“Prepare for the retrieval of some of those projectiles,” the Vice-Admiral then ordered as he hoped they would be able to track some of those spent shots their enemies had fired. They would have to figure out what kind of tech that was.
In such a small-scale conflict, it was more than manageable to face it. However, it could offer some difficulties in larger fleets – especially since they didn't know how far this kind of tech could possible be expanded and refined. It was quite possible this was just some form of prototype.
While that order was followed, one of his Lieutenants suddenly spoke up.
“Sir, we have an incoming transmission from the planet. Civilian. Not encrypted, but they seemingly had an access code,” they related quickly.
“Is the earlier interference cleared up?” he immediately asked back, to which the answer was positive. “Put it through then,” he immediately ordered as soon as he heard that.
He rubbed one of his tight braids between his fingers as he waited for contact to be established. Once the line was clear, things remained quiet for a moment.
“What are we best at?” he then asked the silent line, his chest tightening ever so slightly, even if he didn't have to wait long for a reply.
“Topping from the bottom,” a very familiar voice replied from the other end, sounding incredibly strained but most certainly alive.
The code phrase was an old in-joke about something that had been said back during humanity's first contact with the tonamstrosites due to a slightly choppy translation. However, it more than sufficed here to tell Kazadi that the person on the other side of the line was not only genuine, but also not in any immediate distress – at least none that was brought onto her by someone else.
“Good to hear your voice Ma'am,” he greeted the Admiral after taking a brief moment to allow his heart to settle.
“The pleasure is all mine, Celestin,” Admiral Krieger replied in between heavy breaths that sounded like a combination between being ready to collapse and absolutely willing to tear anyone's throat out at a moment's notice. “Excuse me for the unorthodox contact, my own means of communication have all been destroyed. Update me.”
A brief smile played on the Vice-Admiral's lips.
“No problem, Ma'am. Things are under control up here, but multiple allied coluyvoree ships were destroyed and we suffered some casualties of our own which I will take full responsibility for,” he quickly complied. “By now, the enemy crafts have been largely disabled and our fighters are falling back. What's the situation on your end?”
There was a bit of a grunt from the other side of the line that seemed unrelated to the ongoing conversation.
“I'm sure you did everything by the books,” Krieger then replied a moment later. “Down here the situation is precarious but momentarily under control. We have an unconfirmed number of casualties after an attack with an unknown weapon. All squads are either KIA or unresponsive. We took down six enemy combatants but can't confirm if there's more. I'm going to need clean up, rescue teams, as well as pickup for me and two large offworlders asap.”
Celestin nodded.
“We're in a stable position, so we'll jump teams down right away. Hold out just a minute more,” he assured her while already signing in the necessary order to the troops they had on standby. “How bad are your injuries?”
There was another groan of pain from Krieger's side.
“Crushed cranberries,” she replied after a long moment that sounded like she needed to catch her breath.
“Copy that,” Kazadi replied with a grimace. “Sending muti-team with the evac.”
“Copy that,” Krieger confirmed. “Krieger out.”
With that, the call was hung up. On his screen, Celestin could see how the preparations for dispatch of the requested teams was already well underway. Jumping towards a planet at FTL was generally discouraged by the Galactic Community. However, this was an emergency. They couldn't wait for normal re-entry.
After watching the reported progress for just a moment, his eyes returned to the ongoing battle. He watched the enemy ships as they hovered dead in space, unable to maneuver.
They seemed to have recalled their own fighters back in order to form some sort of protective wall around the 'mother ships' with their own small shields. Obviously it wouldn't be very effective, so it seemed like needless cruelty to make their own soldiers get in the way of the incoming fire. Something within Kazadi told the Vice-Admiral they weren't going to stand down.
“Sir, we're getting some strange hyperspace-readings,” his Lieutenant suddenly announced, making him look up.
“Weapon-grade?” he immediately asked, knowing they had less than a moment to react if it was. However, he also figured there would've been more urgency to their voice had it been so.
“No, Sir. Travel-grade,” the Lieutenant quickly replied. “However the readings are unusual. It seems like they are creating a stretch solely around themselves.”
Kazadi's lips shifted a bit as he took that in and he briefly ran a hand over his mouth in thought. “Prepare to collapse,” he ordered. “Maybe they will attempt some sort of running start. We can't let them get away.”
Right then, the light of what was happening had not yet caught up to the spacial distortion that their sensors were detecting, meaning the ships still looked perfectly normal – if damaged – when he looked at them. However, they were planning something. And that made them appear all the more ominous.
His mind quickly went through their own protocols. The U.H.S.D.F. employed hyperspace in nearly all its possible facets in their tactics. If it was even close to sensible, they would have something that was akin to the maneuver their foes were attempting to execute right now.
A bubble of hyperspace solely around their ships...a dodge? Hardly, there was nothing to dodge like that. An attempt to hide away? No, they knew human ships could collapse hyperspace from the outside easily.
Before him, the windows of the ship once again automatically dimmed, protecting the crew's eyes as the colorful light of the created hyperspace-bubble finally reached them.
“Hyperspace collapsed!” the Lieutenant then suddenly announced, causing Kazadi to blink in surprise as his eyes shot up to his screen. He hadn't given any order to collapse it yet. But indeed, it was gone. For a moment, he thought that the stress had caused his officer to use the wrong term in haste, however no, they had been completely right. It had not been dispersed in a controlled manner. It had collapsed.
In a mild 'thud', the Vice-Admiral's fist descended on the armrest, hand firmly clenched into a fist.
“Those cowardly ba-” he began to growl but then bit his tongue and released a low, almost grunting exhale while his fist quivered from momentarily clenching tighter. “Prepare to search for survivors,” he instead said in a much more controlled manner a moment later. “Preserve lives.”
“Yessir,” multiple of his officers echoed back as he looked out of the window, where he could still see the ghostly afterimage of the hyperspace bubble linger for a bit longer. It was always a strange feeling, seeing someone in the distance who was already dead...
–
With her view darkened and her goggles momentarily pulled off her eyes, Shida stared at the glowing bubble of impossible colors. Her sensors had already told her what was about to happen at any moment now, however her eyes still heavily constricted as they finally witnessed what unfolded themselves.
In what could be described as nothing else than a 'snap' , the light of the hyperspace-stretch instantly condensed down into its original size as the universe all at once remembered that the laws of physics were a thing that existed and brutally forced space to conform to them once again – no matter what may have been in between it and its original form.
Anything within the strange, round stretch was mercilessly ripped along with the convulsion, forcing all the injected warships and fighters into the single, small point that the stretch had been generated from. Though not even a faction of a second later, it all exploded outwards again as the megatons of mass realized that they could not all exist in the same place at once, since the energy of the event was not quite potent enough to press it all into a neutron star or singularity.
No longer recognizable blotches of undefined, white-hot matter were instantly scattered in all directions like some sort of micro-supernova that accentuated the sometimes still burning nano-stars that the earlier battle had created from the opposing fighters.
It was almost pretty...but still, Shida couldn't help but let her ears hang as she wondered how many of the enemy combatants had known about the decision to end things this way. Had any of them even been asked?
Even if it was the far more disturbing answer in a way, Shida almost hoped that this had actually been one mutual suicide-pact instead of the decision of one single commander to choose death over dishonor. Especially while sitting in a ship that was technically under the command of someone else herself, that was certainly the less immediately petrifying option – even if it would probably spell far worse things in the long run.
As she said there, the 'shockwave' of the collapsing hyperspace suddenly hit her, spreading out through space even without any medium to carry it and rocking her ship gently while also penetrating all throughout her body. Of course the earlier relativity fire had already caused similar ripples and she was therefore quite used to the feeling, however these ones sure felt a bit more severe than those of the U.H.S.D.F.'s own canons. It was like she felt her own body distort while also remaining perfectly in palace – almost like she was a stiff container full of water that someone had given a heavy smack from the side, riling up the liquid without it actually having any place to plash to.
According to everything they knew, this phenomenon felt incredibly odd but was entirely harmless to living beings – which was instinctively very hard to believe when one felt it on their own body.
However, her dwelling thoughts were, perhaps luckily, interrupted as she – or more precisely one of her scanners - picked up on a peculiar signature that one of the scattered debris pieces was sending out.
Well, it was 'peculiar' to her that there was a signal at all at first, however then she quickly realized what it actually was. This particular signal was hammered into any pilot's head six ways to Sunday, and so she reacted relatively quickly when she glanced at the grid and realized that she was the closest ship to it. Firing up her engines, she turned her ship on the spot in a slight drift before activating her generator and making a jump right behind the flying object.
Once there, she allowed her computer to take aim for a second before firing out a harpoon that quickly struck the flying debris and latched her ship onto it through a long cable, allowing her to pull the thing along with her after slowly using her backwards thrusters to disperse its speed little by little. Pressing the indicator of her communication, she then spoke up.
“Scratches to Sun,” she announced. “I just recovered a black box. Permission to return for inspection?”
The black boxes of modern ships truly were among the most ridiculous pieces of tech out there, in Shida's humble opinion. Built to withstand almost everything that would likely take a ship out through a combination of brilliant engineering and extremely flexible material that only worked in its indented manner on very small scales. Well, very small compared to the ships they were built into. The things were about half the size of Shida in the end. For many years, armies of scientists had attempted their very best to make this same sort of defense useful in ways that could maybe be used to protect actual people from catastrophic events – but to no avail so far. For now, the only thing those little marvels could allow to survive even something as ludicrous as hyperspace collapsing was information.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant-Commander,” the answer came almost immediately. “Return to hangar three.”
“Copy,” Shida replied. “Scratches out.”
With that, she moved her ship around and prepared for her jump back to the Sun. Hopefully this thing would give them some answers on what exactly this whole thing was meant to accomplish...
–
Far away in another part of the galaxy, a pair of mildly glowing red eyes was laser-focused on a large screen that was just one of many that had merged all over Nedstaniot-Station to broadcast the breaking news to anyone willing to lift their eyes at a slight angle to look at them.
An attack on a coreworld. And not just any coreworld. Gewelitten itself. Something like this hadn't happened in...well, Curi didn't even know how long.
Details seemed to still be incredibly fuzzy as the battle so close to the coluyvoree homeworld had either just happened or was still happening at the moment of the broadcast, however what few details were known were already repeated on end in an endless scroll of text that was meant to catch as many people up to speed as was at all possible through the medium of television. Obviously the same emerging details could already be looked up on the net as well to find them in a more digestible format than the endlessly moving text next to the not exactly top quality footage of the occurring conflict.
However, despite the speed with which it went by, Curi had no problem following the scroll as they stared at the screen intensely.
“Attack was unannounced. Multiple Gewelitten fleet ships destroyed. Official sources confirm: Humanity NOT the aggressor. Attacking ships presumed to be of zodiatos origin. Unknown weapon technology deployed during the attack. U.H.S.D.F. ships engaged in combat after aggression. Myiat delegation ship confirmed unharmed. Attack on government facility on planet simultaneous to spacial attack. Councilman-Candidate Aldwin confirmed unharmed. Status of U.H.S.D.F. General Krieger unknown. Status of Gewelitten Governor H. Cierrophai unknown. Status of Acting-Councilman Afuéhner unknown. Allied coreworld defense fleets activated and inbound. General alert level raised to 8. Hyperspace-travel shut down around the system.”
“Mother, oh no...” Mueen said with absolute shock in his eyes, both of his hands clasped over this mouth as his wide pupils quivered in fear from what they witnessed.
Curi could understand his worry. Though Moar had supposedly been with James, so she would probably be fine. The cyborg was certainly more than just a little relieved that James was already confirmed to be safe. Though the idea that Admiral Krieger's situation was unknown was more than just a little disconcerting.
Though despite the supposed lack of their commanding officer, it seemed like the humans had decisively won out in the battle outside of the coreworld's atmosphere; unknown technology or not.
Given the sub-par footage that some drone was likely recording from quite far away from the actual conflict, it was very hard to tell just what sort of weapon the unknown but presumed to be zodiatos attackers had unleashed there. It looked like some sort of emanating energy that destroyed what it came into contact with but also interacted with it as if it had a physical presence.
Curi had never seen anything remotely like it before – not even in their wildest theories – and their mind immediately wanted to go wild with speculations and ideas about how such a thing might work now that they knew for a fact that it was possible from seeing it with their own eyes.
However, the cyborg pulled themselves together and successfully forced the briefly almost overwhelming desire to focus on nothing else down as they shifted their gaze slightly away from the screen to look over at their other currently nearby company.
Then again, as much as they knew they couldn't let their guard down around him, Reprig's eyes were just as immovably attached to the large screen as Mueen's were as he witnessed the unfolding battle with quivering horror.
His trunk was wiggling wildly in his face and one of his hands nervously scratched over the plate of the table they were all sitting and standing at and on, right next to a piece of paper with a hastily drawn sketch of a spring-like mechanical leg that was inspired by what humans called 'running blades'. The Warrant Officer's weapon also laid on the table, pushed a but further away from his hand so he wouldn't be able to easily reach it.
Though despite his focus, Curi couldn't quite help but speak up after a moment of watching him. “A coreworld attacking another coreworld,” they said to the man, who they knew either had to know far more than they did about this – or would be far more invested in it unfolding. “This is unprecedented.”
Reprig seemed to notice that they were talking to him, however he still remained silent and stared a good few moments longer before finally pulling his gaze away from the screen.
As his eyes met theirs, he looked a bit sick. It almost reminded the cyborg of one of the first interactions they had with the man, back when they nudged him slightly to hand his spy-device back to him after he tried to hide it in James' cabin. Though this time, the cyborg was quite sure that they were not the reason why the man seemed like most of his blood was currently rushing into his stomach.
Could he actually be shocked about what was happening? Was this not part of the plan?
“Unprecedented doesn't even come close to describing it...” he mumbled and couldn't hold the cyborg's gaze for long, looking down to the table's plate instead. “And these aren't just any coreworlds. Osontjar and Gewelitten have been allied for an unimaginably long time. The thought that they would even think of attacking each other...what sort of madness could've caused something like this?”
Curi was the first to admit to themselves that they were far from the best at reading people. If someone with even a modicum of skill in acting wanted to make them believe something untrue about the person they were talking to, they would never deny that there was a good chance of that person succeeding.
Still, Reprig's reaction felt...genuine to them. As if he had actually never expected something like this to happen. Not in a million years.
Maybe it was just skillful acting. And Curi knew that they should have been suspicious like that. However, despite everything he had done, they couldn't quite bring themselves to suspect that he was lying at that moment.
“I know it is unlikely you will give me an honest answer, but-” Curi began to say, however Reprig was more than able to anticipate what they were going to ask and replied long before they were finished.
“No. No. Never,” the sipusserleng said, shaking his head heavily and standing his trunk up while making a denying gesture with his hand that was so brash that he actually knocked his crutch off the small outcrop in the table it had been laid down on. “This must be some absolutely deranged people, no two ways about it. To attack a coreword...”
Curi noticed Reprig's gaze briefly twitching down, his eyes jumping onto the personal assistant strapped to his lower arm as if he suddenly got the urge to use it for something.
Curi suspected he likely wanted to call someone; question them to make extra sure that they had, in fact, nothing to do with this. Though the sipusserleng suppressed the urge and pulled his eyes away, bringing them back up to the screen.
Just at that moment, the implosion of collapsing hyperspace suddenly lit up the footage moments before the glowing remnants of what once had been the zodiatos ships were scattered across the star-system.
Mueen mumbled something in his home's language as his eyes remained affixed to the screen. Curi couldn't even begin to guess what he was saying. However, his voice sounded pleading.
“Suicide instead of surrender?” Reprig meanwhile mouthed breathlessly as his nervous tick of excessively licking his trunk began to show.
Although he had often been otherwise employed in recent times, Curi could see it in the man's eyes that he was still, in a way, military at heart. He knew the general values and doctrines that were conveyed to the soldiers of the Communal Military, both inside and out. And the idea of someone choosing death like this...it seemed to rock him to his very core.
Slowly, he turned his gaze over to Curi. His eyes were almost pleading with the cyborg, even if they seemed to already know that his next question would be asked in vain.
“Could it maybe have been the humans and their-” he began, but this time, it was Curi's term to cut him off after anticipating what was coming.
“While humans very much employ the collapsing of hyperspace as a tactic in war, the process is not invisible – or even subtle. Had the human ships caused that collapse, it would've been noticeable,” they explained succinctly. “It could've still been a mere unexpected failure of the hyperspace generation, of course. However, with the rarity of such events, the timing seems...unlikely.”
“They weren't even trying to generate a real stretch...” Reprig concurred dejectedly and left his head hanging, his trunk also sinking down limply. “I can't even imagine- Well...I hope they will at least find peace now, away from the madness.”
Curi paused for a long moment, staring at the Warrant Officer some more. Admittedly, the cyborg was a bit confounded at something. They knew for a fact the man had put his own life on the line for his orders, with a very real chance that they would lead to his death, more than just once. And yet the idea of being ordered to die seemed to disturb him. They couldn't quite figure out the difference that led to the results in reaction being so incredibly different, however it was still very clear that there was one.
And it seemed to hit the man hard.
Self-admittedly, Curi didn't exactly pity the man. They didn't quite have the capacity to. They knew about so many horrible things he had done that simply seeing him distressed was far from enough to stir such deep empathy for him within them.
Yet still, they weren't left entirely cold by it either – and if it was only because he seemed to be affected by these events in the ways a, for a lack of a better term, 'normal person' would be. He was shocked at the sudden, seemingly senseless violence, and concerned about the people involved.
Granted, it was likely only because they were people he considered worth being concerned about, yet still, the reaction was so...'normal', in a way they didn't quite expect from someone with such a capability for unceremonious acts of cruelty and violence. Even this person who had tried to kill them, or at least had been entirely comfortable with them getting killed, was capable of such a reaction.
And Curi...wasn't sure if that made things better or worse, if they were being honest.
It felt better because there was the capability for empathy there, however...it felt worse because they felt how they had been and likely still were willingly denied said empathy.
He could have cared...he just didn't want to.
Curi shook their body heavily, causing mild sounds from the engines running their legs' movements from the sudden force as they tried to shoo away emotions that they really didn't want to be feeling at that exact moment.
The thing that mostly kept them from following up on some of their uncomfortably aggressive thoughts at that moment was the fact that Mueen was still with them, the worry for his mother written across his features like a deep engraving in a metal plaque. He did not need anything like that around him right now, that much was clear.
Slowly, they moved over to him and reached up one of their long legs to run it along his arm while he still covered parts of his large face with both hands.
“She will be alright,” Curi then assured the dark-furred rafulite, switching from their usual voice box to their more “melodic” one to put on a gentle, calming tone. “She is stronger than she seems.”
Inhaling deeply as his nostrils flared, Mueen closed his dark eyes and swallowed heavily, taking his gaze off the large screen for the first time in many minutes while slowly hanging his head down.
“Yeah,” he said, seeming to force hopefulness into his tone. “Yes, she'll be fine. She made it his far. This won't get to her.”
Curi nodded with their entire body and continued to run the tip of their leg along his arm.
“She will be,” they repeated, both to the man and themselves as their own eyes moved upwards, their gaze falling back on the battlefield riddled with burning remnants of matter. “I'm sure of it.”
–
Never in his life had James felt so drunk and so sober at the same time. His mind was entirely clear, running a light-year a minute as it desperately tried to simultaneously process all the admittedly little information that he had in his current situation AND to not absolutely freak out while doing so somehow – a task he was ludicrously failing at. And it did NOT help that his body could barely keep itself on his own two feet.
He had avoided completely fainting by a hair earlier after reminding himself that, instead of being terrified for Shida's life, it would be much more fair towards her to simply focus on trusting in her skills to carry her through. However, that was barely a little patch on an enormous crack in his facade as he couldn't help but go over and over and over the fact of how much worse the situation that she needed to jump into here had been for her simply because it was his damn birthday and they wanted to indulge over it. He should've stopped that, but noooo, he just had to go and let himself be swayed so damn easily, as if he was still that little boy following Koko around whenever she visited the compound to try and get some attention.
Of course, a quiet voice in the back of his head tried to politely remind him that Shida had, in fact, not only taken part in the festivities as well but also encouraged him to do so, however it was easily overpowered by the screaming rest of his mind.
He briefly glanced over at the only somewhat conscious Commander. When she said that they should match each other's drinks, that should've been the moment he stopped. She was like half his weight, what the hell was he thinking?
His mechanical hand shot up, heavily gripping a fist full of hair as he tried to force himself to focus. What's done is done. There's no changing it. He should focus on anything else right now.
Though as he painfully pulled on his hair like that, his eyes suddenly went wide as he noticed something. Or, more precisely, didn't notice something.
When had the alarm stopped? Just now? Or had it been out and he just hadn't noticed?
Letting go of his hair, he lifted his face and looked around. If the alarm was over, then that meant...
The uncoordinated movement of soldiers reaching for their phones and radios with different speeds went through the room, and after brief confirmation, the uniformed forces began to move, having seemingly gotten new orders other than guarding the safe-rooms. Apparently, the threat was over.
James quickly fumbled for his own phone, his barely coordinated hands struggling extremely with the simple task of trying to call one of his contacts – much to the frustration of his already cleared mind. His finger trembled as he swiped it across the screen, trying to get it to the right damn place to make a simple god-damn call.
However, he froze in the motion at a quiet sound that was immediately followed by a sudden stir behind him as multiple people seemed to move quickly. And after just a second, James was among them as well.
Nearly tripping over his feet, he damn near threw himself onto the sickbed that didn't stand too far away from him, his phone momentarily forgotten and eyes wide open as they stared over at an endlessly familiar dark face, that however had life in it for the first time in what felt like an eternity at that moment.
Slowly and twitchy, Nia's eyes fluttered open as she let out quiet groans while mildly stirring in place while her doctors and nurses hurried around her and quickly began to take her vitals.
After flinching heavily as a flashlight was quite suddenly shone into her eyes to test her photopupillary reflex, she began to move even more. Meanwhile, James and Tuya were basically pressed shoulder to shoulder close to the foot of her bed, the only thing keeping them from dashing right up to her face being just enough awareness to not get in the doctor's way.
Still, although her movements were very slow, stiff, and groggy, Nia eventually lifted up her head, looking around with still somewhat hazy and half-closed eyes. But that didn't stop her from smiling when her gaze fell onto the two who so nervously stood at her bedside there.
“Hey,” she said in a quiet, croaky, but still very much cheerful voice as her unkempt hair fell down both sides of her face.
Though James didn't see much more than that, because just about at that moment, his vision was entirely taking away by welling-up waters sweeping him along.

If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ASSESSMENTS I CAN COMPLETE:

• Online Courses (1 - 20 Weeks Long)
• Homework Assignments
• Exams Quizzes Tests
• Excel Projects
• Discussion Forum Posts
• Research Papers Term Papers Essays
• Employment Assessments

MY MATH SUBJECTS OF EXPERTISE:
I am very knowledgeable and proficient in assisting students in a wide range of mathematics classes. I can help students complete their homework assignments and other projects get an A on quizzes, tests, and exams (including proctored assessments) answer online discussion posts write essays & papers in MLA APA Chicago format and provide general overall academic help in each math course listed below:

• Advanced Placement Honors High School Level Math
• AP Calculus AB A.P. Calculus BC
• AP Statistics
• Biostatistics Bio-Statistics
• College Algebra Intermediate Algebra
• Business Calculus
• Business Statistics
• Business Math
• Calculus I Calculus II Calculus III (Calc)
• Geometry
• International Baccalaureate (IB) Maths
• Liberal Arts Math
• Logic & Reasoning
• Multivariable Calculus Multi variable Calculus
• Precalculus Pre-calculus
• Probability & Statistics
• Psychology Statistics Psych Stats
• Quantitative Reasoning Quantitative Methods Quantitative Literacy (Quant)
• Statistics (Stats)
• Statistics for Social Sciences
• Trigonometry (Trig)

STATISTICS HELP (MY BEST SUBJECT):

• I have a master's degree in Applied Statistics from a university in New Jersey, USA. As a result, I am very proficient in helping students with various types of Statistics courses including Biostatistics Business Statistics Elementary Statistics Probability & Statistics Psychology Statistics.
• I have extensive knowledge and skill with helping students get through various statistical concepts including all of the following in alphabetical order:
• ANOVA Bar Graph, Boxplot, Dot Plot, Histogram, Pie Chart Bias Binomial, Exponential, Poisson, Gamma, Uniform Distribution Central Limit Theorem Chi-Square Test Coefficient of Determination (R^2) Conditional & Relative Probability Confidence Interval Correlation Coefficient (r) Critical Region Critical Value Descriptive & Inferential Statistics Effect Size Expected Value Experiment vs Observation Goodness of Fit Test Hypothesis Testing Interpolation & Extrapolation Interquartile Range (IQR) Kurtosis Left, Negative, Right, Positive Skewed Distribution Logistic Regression Mean, Median, Mode, Midrange Multiple Regression Nominal, Ordinal, Interval, Ratio I Population Parameter Normal, Symmetric & Bell Shaped Distribution Null & Alternate Hypothesis One & Two Sample T-Test One & Two Sample Z-Test Ordinary Least Squares Outliers P-Value Pooled Variance (Equal Variances) Proportion R^2 Range Regression Regression Line Reject & Fail to Reject Ho Relative & Cumulative Frequency Distributions Relativity & Reliability Right, Left, One, Two Tailed Tailed Hypothesis Test Sample Statistics Sampling Methods (Convenience, Stratified, Simple, Cluster, Systematic) Significance Level (1%, 5%, 10%) Skewness Standard Deviation& Variance T-Score Test Statistic Time Series Type I & Type II Errors Unbiased Estimators Z-Score

ALGEBRA HELP:

• I am well-versed in helping students do well in Algebra 1 & 2 College Algebra Intermediate Algebra Pre-Algebra and I am very knowledgeable and proficient in the following algebra topics in alphabetical order:
• Absolute Values Circle Equation Domain Exponents Graphing Horizontal & Vertical Asymptotes Inequalities, Equations & Functions Inverse Functions Linear, Exponential, Logarithmic, Quadratic Equations Logarithms Maximum & Minimum Values of a Graph Number Lines One-to-One Functions Parallel & Perpendicular Lines Plotting Points & Ordered Pairs Point-Slope Form Polynomial Division Polynomials Radicals Range Rational & Irrational Expressions Rational Functions Real Roots Real Zeros Relations & Functions Slope Slope-Intercept Form Square Roots Standard Form of a Line System of Equations System of Inequalities Variables X and Y Intercepts

CALCULUS HELP:

• I am well-versed in helping students do well in Calculus I, II & III, Calculus 1, 2 & 3, Business Calculus, Multivariable Calculus, Vector Calculus and I am very knowledgeable and proficient in the following calculus topics in alphabetical order:
• Absolute & Local Maximum and Minimum Antiderivative Area & Volume Chain Rule Concavity Continuity Convergence Test Critical Points Curvature Curve of Rotation Curve Sketching Derivatives Divergence Test First & Second Derivative Test Fourier Series Implicit Differentiation Increasing / Decreasing Functions Infinite Series Integrals Integration by Parts Jacobian Matrix Limits L’Hopital’s Rule Maclaurin Series Mean Value Theorem Partial Derivative Product & Quotient Rule Reiman Sum Related Rates Simpson’s Rule Solid of Revolution Substitution Rule Taylor Series

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ATTRIBUTES THAT SET ME APART FROM OTHER TUTORS:

• I firmly believe that I have many attributes and skills that set me apart from other tutors. Below is a list of qualities that makes me an ideal fit to help you master your coursework:

I CAN AID STUDENTS TAKING PROCTORED ASSESSMENTS:

• Proficient in CollegeBoard AP Calculus AB, AP Calculus BC & AP Statistics exams.
• Skilled with International Baccalaureate Math Exams: IB Maths HL & IB Maths SL
• Can intentionally answer a few problems incorrectly at the student's request.
• Can text solutions to the student while they are taking a proctored exam.
• Upon request, can purposely obtain grades below an A (ex: B+, B, C+, C-).
• I can stretch out the time to a plausible length for timed exams and assignments before submitting them.
• Have reliable software that can change my IP address to match the closest major city near the student.
• I have exceptional multiple-choice exam-taking skills. I have mastered the various techniques to make calculated guesses for the correct option in standardized exams such as the SAT & GRE.

I CAN VERIFY MY ACADEMIC KNOWLEDGE & SKILLS:

• I have no problem with requests to solve sample problems upfront to prove my knowledge & proficiency of the course concepts.
• I can provide glowing references & strong examples of work done for past clients to verify my academic skills.
• I can also provide, upon request, complete detailed calculations with explanations for solutions to the problems worked on.
• I am quite skilled and adept in using multiple modernized educational platforms and software, including but not limited to: Brightspace MyStatLab D2L WebAssign Canvas MyMathLab Blackboard ALEKS
• Can format term papers and discussion posts in APA MLA Harvard Chicago Vancouver OSCOLA IEEE format.

I HAVE PAID ACCESS TO OVER 15 STUDY-HELP WEBSITES AND MATHEMATICAL SOFTWARE:

• I have multiple paid subscriptions to a wide range of academic tutoring resources, including Chegg, Quizlet, CourseHero, Brainly, Grammarly, Study. com, Bartleby, Slader, Transtutors, Slideshare, StudocU, Turnitin, Academia, SymboLab, WolframAlpha, and Scribd to help guide to solve exam & homework questions that I may not immediately know.
• However, I am smart enough not to blatantly plagiarize solutions online but instead write them in my own unique words, formatting, & mathematical terminology.
• I have access to a very sophisticated graphing calculator and various mathematical software that provides step-by-step solutions to complex mathematical problems within seconds, allowing me to provide exact solutions to the student in a timely manner.
• I have impeccable handwriting and a high-quality mobile scanner app that allows me to scan written solutions in very legible high-definition JPG, PNG, or PDF formats.

MY AVAILABILITY & RELIABILITY:

• Depending on my availability, I can accommodate immediate tutoring requests, 1-24 hour, and 1-30-day deadlines.
• I can schedule live real-time online sessions and meet deadlines in an impressively timely fashion.
• I can provide quick notifications and updates of progress made in the student's class via email text phone calls.
• I can also be available to tutor students for Fall 2021 Spring 2022 Summer 2022 semesters.

MY EDUCATIONAL SOFTWARE OF EXPERTISE:

• I am very knowledgeable and well-versed in a wide range of educational software to tutor students in including but not limited to: Acellus ALEKS APEX Learning Aplia Blackboard Brightspace Canvas Cengage CengageNow Connect ConnectMath Connexus CPM D2L Discord Edmentum Eviews Examity Excel Hawkes Learning Honorlock Khan Academy Knewton LimeSpring Lumen Maple MasteringChemistry MasteringPhysics MathXL (XL) MATLAB McGraw-Hill Microsoft Word Minitab Moodle MyAccountingLab MyEconLab MyITLab MyLab My Lab MyMathLab My Math Lab MyOpenMath MyPsychLab MySocLab MyStatLab My Stat Lab NCSS Open Source Software Pearson PERT PlatoWeb PowerPoint Prezi R Respondus Lockdown Browser with Webcam Sapling SPSS Stata StraighterLine Straighter Line WebAssign Web Assign Webex (Cisco) WebWork Wiley WileyPlus Wonderlic Zoom

SCHOOLS FROM WHICH I'VE HELPED STUDENTS IN :
As of 2021, I have tutored and helped students enrolled at the following U.S. universities community colleges county & city colleges schools for-profit institutions listed below in alphabetical order:

• A - C: American Public University System (APUS) Arizona State Ashford Brigham Young Brown Broward California State (Fullerton) Capella Chamberlain (Illinois) Colorado Technical Columbia Columbia Southern Cornell
• D - K: Dallas College Dartmouth DeVry Excelsior College Florida International Florida State Full Sail Georgia State Grand Canyon Harvard Houston Community College Ivy Tech Community College Kaplan Kennesaw State Kent State
• L - T: Liberty Lone Star College System Kaplan Miami Dade Michigan State CUNY State University of New York (SUNY) Northern Virginia Ohio State University of Phoenix (UOP) Penn State Princeton Purdue (Davenport) San Diego State San Francisco State San Jose State Southern New Hampshire Southern Nevada Stanford St. Petersburg Strayer Texas Tech
• UNIVERSITY OF: Alabama Arizona California (UC) Central Florida Chicago Cincinnati Florida Houston Illinois (Urbana-Champaign) Iowa Maryland Minnesota Michigan North Texas Pennsylvania Southern Florida Texas Toronto
• U - Z: UCLA Extension Utah State Utah Valley Valencia Walden U Wake Technical Western Governors Wilmington Yale

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
I OFFER FLEXIBLE PAYMENT PLANS:

• I offer several unique payment plans, including a weekly plan, a discounted monthly plan, a discounted half-now / half-later plan, and highly discounted up-front rates.
• I can accept the following payment methods for my services: PayPal Debit Cards Square Cash Credit Cards Cash App Venmo.
• Only people located in North America have access to Venmo Cash App Zelle.
• This is an excellent way to determine if the person you're dealing with is from the United States.
• Within reason, I offer a partial or full money-Back guarantee if the student is very unsatisfied with my academic services.

TUTORING AVAILABLE FOR OTHER SUBJECTS:

• For other subjects, you can reach out to me, and I can connect you with one of my tutoring partners who can provide general academic assistance for the following subjects:
• Art & Design: Art History Design Film Studies
• Business: Accounting (Acc) Biz Courses Business Administration (Biz Admn) Business Calculus Business Law Business Statistics Corporate Finance Economics (Econ) Finance (Fin) Financial Accounting Intermediate Accounting Intermediate Microeconomics (Micro) Macroeconomics (Macro) Management (Mgmt) Managerial Accounting Marketing MBA
• Computer Science: C C++ Computer Programming (Comp) Java Python R (Introduction & Intermediate Level Only)
• Humanities: Communications (Comm) English Literature Essay & Term Paper Writing, Editing, Proofreading Essays History Papers Philosophy (Phil) Religious Studies Theology (Theo)
• Mathematics: A.P. Calculus AB & BC Psychology Statistics AP Statistics Bio statistics Calculus I (1) Calculus II (2) Calculus III (3) College Algebra Differential Equations Discrete Math Finite Math Functions General Math Geometry Liberal Arts Math Linear Algebra Multi-variable Calculus Partial Differential Equations Precalculus Probability Quantitative Reasoning Real Analysis Statistics Trigonometry (Trig) Vector Calculus
• Science & Medicine: Anatomy & Physiology (A & P) Biochemistry Biology (Bio) Biostatistics Earth Science Environmental Science General Chemistry (Chem) Healthcare Medicine Nursing Nutrition Organic Chemistry Physics (Phys)
• Social Sciences: Anthropology Economics (Econ) Geology Law & Justice Liberal Arts Liberal Studies Political Science Psychology Sociology

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

• 1) Speak with you on the phone and answer any questions you may have so that you have the opportunity to assess and analyze my tone, articulation, accent, diction, dialect, regionalisms, pitch, vocabulary, word choice, intonations, and inflections.
• NOTE: I’m a New Jersey-born Irish/Italian-American, but I have been told that I speak in an erudite & articulate suburban American accent with a “professor style” voice somewhat resembling the voice of actor: Ben Stein.
• 2) Agree to do some homework questions of yours upfront with the work fully shown in real-time to prove my mastery of the course content.
• 3) Send you screenshots of at least five past scores I attained from completing exams & homework assignments for other students in the same type of class you need help with.
• 4) Send you full screenshots of written exam solutions I wrote up by hand for students in the past in the same course that you need help with so that you can see my neat handwriting.
• 5) Provide you with the contact information of students who have utilized my services in the past who would be more than willing to vouch for my skills.

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

• I certainly wouldn’t do it for such paltry amounts of money. (i.e., anything less than $1,000 per victim.)
• I certainly wouldn’t choose high school & college students as my “target audience” to scam, considering that most people without college degrees have abysmally low annual incomes. Why choose low-income victims when it would be much more profitable to target high-income, high-net-worth individuals earning at least six figures a year? I have knowledge in business consulting, and I promise you that a business owner would be a MUCH more lucrative mark than a low-income college student.
• I wouldn’t choose such a time & energy-draining method of scamming people. Also, communicating back and forth with potential clients is an absurdly long time sink since only less than 10% of all potential clients who reach out to me actually become paying clients of mine. This means that 90% of my time communicating with potential clients ultimately proves to be a colossal waste of my irretrievable time & energy.
• If you pay me to provide academic services and I don’t deliver, you can always dispute the payment with the payment app and easily get your money refunded. If I were in the habit of swindling money from people, then all of my payment accounts would have been investigated and be completely shut down by now. And I would have been permanently banned from opening new accounts. Therefore, the fact that all my payment apps have been fully active for years should be sufficient proof that I haven’t had people consistently disputing payments sent to me.

HOW TO CONTACT ME:
Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641

• I take my work as a tutor very seriously, and I always aim to do my best to help my students excel in school. I have a solid and sincere passion for academic achievement, and with my help, I am positive that I can help students obtain very high grades with minimal stress and effort.
• Please feel free to contact me if you're interested in my services and would like to learn more. I'm available 24/7 via phone call, email, and text. Again, thank you for taking the time to read my Reddit tutoring ad, and I hope to hear from you soon!

My contact details:
WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657
Call: +1 727 456 9641
Website: hiraedu. com
Email: [info@hiraedu](mailto:info@hiraedu). com
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