Turbotax state office depot

https://archive.is/gRT7s
A proposed tax on high-value real estate transactions to pay for affordable housing would add an estimated 3,210 affordable homes in Massachusetts over five years, according to the governor’s administration – a drop in the bucket of the state’s 200,000 housing unit shortage.
Despite only adding about 1.6% of the units needed to chip away at housing demand, the policy may be causing a delay in one of the biggest bills lawmakers are poised to tackle this session, which includes other proposed policies and capital funds that may do more for the state’s housing shortage.
Healey’s $4.1 billion housing bond bill – which she is marketing as the largest-ever state investment in housing in Massachusetts – includes the tax policy change in an outside section that would clear the way for additional local levies on property sales without any additional approval needed from Beacon Hill.
Under the proposed local option, any city, town or regional affordable housing commission can adopt a real estate transfer fee between 0.5% and 2% on the portions of a sale above a certain amount with a vote of their local legislative body. The threshold would be either $1 million or the median single-family home sales price for the county, whichever is greater. Revenue from the transfer tax would fund local affordable housing efforts and the preservation of existing public housing stock.
The administration’s estimate that this policy could generate 3,210 affordable housing units over five years is based on an assumption that 50% of Massachusetts’ cities and towns would adopt a 1% tax, then put that money toward subsidizing housing at about $350,000 per unit.
Based on fiscal 2022 transactions, the Executive Office of Housing and Livable Communities found that 53 municipalities in central and western Massachusetts had zero transactions above the $1 million threshold. Another 96 municipalities would have raised less than $100,000 in FY22 for each 1% levied.
Eighty-four communities could have raised over $1 million in fiscal year 2022 with a transfer tax, including a dozen between $5 million and $10 million. Revere and Somerville could have raised $10 million to $12 million, Cambridge $28 million and Boston $70 million for affordable housing with a 1% levy.
At least 11 cities and towns – Boston, Somerville, Cambridge, Arlington, Amherst, Chatham, Concord, Nantucket, Provincetown, Truro and Wellfleet – have sent the Legislature home rule petitions seeking permission to launch real estate transfer fees. Supporters say the measure is desperately needed to help more people to be able to afford to live and work in those communities.
Another policy included in Healey’s housing bill to authorize accessory dwelling units, or ADUs, by right in single-family zoning districts, would produce more than three times the amount of units across the state, compared to the transfer tax.
Supporters say ADUs, which are smaller buildings or apartments on the same property as a single-family home, offer additional housing for larger families with adult children or older parents, but they can be difficult to get permitted in some communities.
Officials said that based on adoption rates in New Hampshire and California, the permitting reform could lead to production of as many as 10,000 units in Massachusetts in five years. The bill includes other policies meant to spur housing production – including setting a new simple majority voting threshold for inclusionary zoning ordinances and creating a streamlined process for dispensing state land toward housing purposes – as well as unlocking over $4 billion to support production, preservation and rehabilitation of more than 65,000 homes, according to Healey’s office.
Still, House Speaker Ron Mariano indicated last week the controversial real estate transfer tax has slowed down deliberations on the bill that Healey filed over seven months ago.
Mariano said the transfer tax is “not as popular as I thought it might be” within his chamber.
“I’ve been listening to a lot of members. A lot of comments about the taxation issue, around the transfer tax. And so it’s slowed me down a lot,” the speaker told reporters last week. “I’m gonna have to really weigh the measure of where that would, what would happen in the chamber if we brought that up.”
The News Service asked Lt. Gov. Kim Driscoll for a reaction to the speaker’s comments about the transfer tax as she left the Mass Union of Public Housing Tenants lobby day on Monday morning.
“I mean, we really support the affordable homes bill, all of the policy provisions that are in it, and we look forward to working with leadership and frankly everybody in the delegation to try and get it over the goal line,” she responded.
Asked how she would pitch the transfer tax to representatives who may not be on board, Driscoll noted that the policy is local-option, so cities and towns would not be forced to enact the new tax.
“We think it’s a real tool for local communities who want to be able to invest in affordable housing within their boundaries,” she said. “Having these resources is critical to that, and we frankly really appreciate the flexibility that communities will have to choose to accept this transfer fee. It will be a local option for cities and towns.”
Housing and Livable Communities Secretary Ed Augustus emphasized that revenue generated from the transfer fee could also be used to preserve existing housing.
“We think it’s an important tool, and today we’re talking to public housing tenants,” Augustus said in an interview after the Monday morning Mass Union of Public Housing Tenants event. “We specifically said in the legislation that communities that decided to opt into a transfer fee would spend it on affordable housing creation, preservation or public housing. And we see in some communities that there are great partnerships with their local public housing, and they make capital investments ... So we think it can also be a way to preserve and improve the public housing stock in communities through the transfer fee.”
Senate President Karen Spilka sidestepped a question this weekend over whether she supports a local option transfer tax. Spilka, asked in a television interview whether she supports Healey’s pitch to allow municipalities to impose the real estate transfer fee, said her chamber is “still debating it.”
“The housing bill hasn’t even come to the Senate yet. The House is doing it first,” Spilka said on WCVB’s “On The Record,” which aired Sunday. “We are working on some pieces, but I think that we need to look at whatever we do with the eye of ensuring that we continue to build housing in every corner of the state and make it more affordable for residents.”
Spilka, asked by OTR host Sharman Sacchetti whether the $1 million threshold for the transfer tax proposal was “set too low” considering the volume of Massachusetts homes that are worth more than that amount, did not directly answer.
“That will be a big discussion and debate among the senators, so I’m waiting to hear from the Senate,” Spilka said. “We haven’t had that debate and discussion yet, so we’ll see.”

I’m applying for EB-2 NIW, but USCIS keep returning my applications with unclear reasons. I sent the I-140 and I-907 premium processing fee together to the USCIS office address stated on their website and their letter, for USPS courier, but they said they only accept stand alone document. Has everyone experience the same? Do we need to pay asylum fee in separate cheque? As they mentioned the payment is incorrect when I gave 2 separate cheques but it’s what I need to do as per their website.
Should I re-print all the documents and form and submit to normal I-140 submission and after got the receipt then submit the premium processing form? Or try to send both I-140 and I-907 together again through different office address (FedEx and UPS courier). Appreciate some advice :)

She was chatting with strangers from apps called Zepeto and High-rise. It went on for a week until I did a regular check of her phone. Two men were sending her really disgusting messages, images, and even video chatting with her on Google Meet. Please, no judgment. I already feel horrible about it. She's since begun therapy. I have an app called Bark on her tablet to monitor everything. I reported this to the Michigan State Police and they seized the phone with my consent to try and find those disgusting men. My daughter is upset that she hasn't had her phone for 12 weeks. While I understand and I am also getting impatient. Has anyone had any similar experiences? Every time I follow up with the officer, I'm told it's still in their digital crimes lab and is in the works to be downloaded. I feel like it probably hasn't even been downloaded yet. These men could have already targeted so many more girls. She is upset with me that I can't get it back sooner. I considered getting another phone, but I don't know if that will take away from the lesson that should be learned here. Plus, I don't want to pay for two phones at once.

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.

First Previous
"Heather has feathers but heath has teeth."
"Captain Hobbs!"
From above, Arran looks like a paradise, rich and green with ample water and perfect for settlement, it's only when you are on the ground that you understand why life had a hard time springing up here. Some time in the distant past, volcanic activity rose up from several specific areas of the planet and created an environment suitable for cyanobacteria which produced oxygen but can also make soils alkaline rich which happened on several distant worlds such as Earth. The volcanic activity on Arran produced great clouds, prevented an earth like environment to a certain degree but life began to rise from the planet, struggling with rocky terrain as well as acidic water, but refusing to gve up. Eventually plant life adapted to the conditions of the planets atmosphere creating a world of deep forests, fertile grasslands and bogs similar to the one Captain Hobbs had led his troops into.
Robert took his time walking through the field, letting himself calm down as the men pulled each other from the mire. He understood that it would take time and effort to adapt to this new world and had relied on the wisdom Brian McMurray had shared with him, regarding Arran, but it had already been two weeks since the furlough had ended and training had gone nowhere. Picking two plant stems, he approached The soggy Captain and his now exhausted and mud caked company.
"Let's review." Robert said tiredly, holding up the two stems.
"I don't do plants Robert." Hobbs said defiantly. "I get it and I remember it. Heather is higher than heath and heath grows on higher ground. Heather blooms in winter and heath blooms in summer, but none of that matters when the terrain is still shit."
"Heather blooms in summer..." Robert said, trying to hold back his frustration.
"Its spring asshole!" Hobbs interrupted. "The whole planet is a swamp and navigating it is going to be a pain in the ass. What isn't occupied for farming or goats is full of trees, mountains and mud."
"What would you suggest Hobbs?!" Robert shot back.
"I'd suggest you need to get laid again." Hobbs retorted.
Robert balled up a fist to strike Hobbs, but he let the anger and frustration go instead. Captain Hobbs had a point, the easiest land was occupied by agriculture and the moorland was too soft for most normal infantry tactics. A file could navigate well enough but a wedge formation would inevitably find a soft spot and both provided easy pickings for anyone paying attention. The mountains were equally difficult to navigate for their own reasons and the forests of the planet were damn near impenetrable.
"Round them up and head back Hobbs." Robert said defeated.
"What ever you sau, SIR!" Hobbs replied mockingly.
Robert dismissed the other companies in the same manner, none of them had faired well in the soupy terrain. The 449th made their way back to where their coaches had been parked, but Robert lingered a while longer, watching them load up and head back to town on the coaches. Things had changed in their short time on Arran, he felt distant from his men, like a chasm had formed between him and them, and the feeling he had let them down too many times weighed heavily on his shoulders as he starting his long walk back to Brodick.
/////
"Welcome back Colonel." Scarlet said brightly.
The local star had begun to set when Robert arrived. Clouds were painted in soft pastel colors by the falling star, further highlighting Robert's dark mood. He was thankful that the Laird had left the planet recently for a conference and wouldn't be back for a few more days, perhaps he could turn things around before the Laird returned. In his stead, he had left Scarlet and the butler who had suffered his abominable attitude. He would have to make it up to them soon.
"I take it training didn't go well today either?"
At first impression, the Butler of the MacSweeney estate always seemed to be in afoul mood, but nothing was further from the truth. His stoic disposition and rigid bearing was the result of a few years in the Terran Marines, but he preferred to be called Dean and shared his life freely over a finger or two of the local scotch when he was off duty. He hadn't been blessed with a wife or children, but made up for it by being a father figure to the staff.
"Thanks Dean," Robert replied, "it hasn't been a good day and I was wondering if I could pick your brain."
Dean's normally strait face cracked a little and he let out a small chuckle.
"Asking a butler for military advice? You must be desperate." He quipped.
"Asking a Marine what I'm doing wrong as an officer." Robert corrected. "A drink would be nice as well."
Dean led Robert into the staff dining room and produced a bottle of whiskey, pouring a glass for both of them.
"What seems to be the trouble?" Dean asked, holding out a glass for Robert.
"I don't know really." Robert confided. "I almost hit Hobbs today out of frustration and I don't feel like I'm a part of the unit as much as I used to."
Dean took a sip of the whiskey and rolled it around for a moment before swallowing. "May I ask why you almost struck a subordinate?"
"He can't figure out the difference between heather hand heath." Robert replied before knocking back his own glass.
"Couldn't stay out of the bog." Dean said. "Do you know that they are different?"
Robert looked at Dean with suspicion. "They look alike from a distance, but when you look closely they have a lot of differences."
"Heath is an Erica but heather is Calluna Vulgaris." Dean stated. "It was confusing for the early botanists on earth as well who thoughtthey were the same species for a long time." Dean said. "From a distance most people assume they're the same plant with the same needs. Heaths and Heathers native to this world require different things. If you were to clump them all into a single pot some would die."
"Why do I have the feeling this isn't about plants?" Robert asked.
"Because it isn't" Dean said before finishing his glass. "All of you have been clumped together for so long that even you think your all the same, and treating them like they are the same as you is already showing signs of trouble."
"Have any suggestions?" Robert asked as Dean emptied the bottle into the glasses.
"Two suggestions. First i would advise that you empty that glass." Dean said.
Robert did as he was advised, draining the glass in one go.
"I believe you have your men's ranks and positions in order correct?" Dean asked.
"For the most part." Robert replied.
"Would you be so kind as to retrieve them?" Dean requested.
"Sure, but.... whats the other thing?" Robert inquired.
Dean held up the empty bottle.
"It appears we are out of scotch."

In April 2024, I received a speeding ticket with code violation 22349A for driving 79 MPH in a 50 MPH zone. The officer mentioned I could attend traffic school to avoid affecting my insurance.
However, I believe the officer was mistaken as the suggested violation is 25 MPH over the limit. Traffic school is not guaranteed. Initially, I planned to pay the fine, attend traffic school, and move on without contesting the ticket. But now I am not sure.
Surprisingly, when I contacted the courthouse to discuss options with a clerk, I was informed that due to exceeding 25 MPH over the limit, a court appearance is mandatory, contrary to what's been shown on the Courtesy Notice (Court Appearance: Optional). The clerk also stated that a Trial by Written Declaration (TBWD) is not available to me. This contradicts with everything I have learned from my own research.
Here are my questions:

1. To pursue traffic school, should I just follow the clerk's advice and schedule a court appearance? Would hiring a traffic lawyer improve my chances of the judge allowing traffic school?
2. Should I proceed with filing for TBWD despite the clerk's advice and fight the ticket to the end? Could this increase my chances of being granted traffic school?

I appreciate your feedback and insights on how to proceed in this situation. While there may not be a definitive answer, I value your opinions.

I’m new to the area and just started seeing a local dentist. Yesterday the dentist gave me an estimated amount due after the dental work was completed.
Like I usually do, I said I’d pay my amount due after getting my EOB, since the EOB states exactly what I owe and is not an estimate. This is typical when you have good insurance through your employer and I’ve never had an issue doing things this way before.
However, this dentist (NEW ENGLAND DENTAL DANBURY) told me that they can’t let me leave until I pay “something”.
After going back and forth I was told by the office staff that they have to call their manager before they can let me leave. I was totally freaked out at this point and just walked the hell out of there after I told them they can’t stop me from leaving and to just send me the damn bill.
Today I get a call from their manager, some idiot named Nomi and I tell him how rude and unprofessional the staff was to try and hold me hostage over $120 bucks after the work was already done and I had follow up work to be completed.
He told me that although the process I explained to him was the law and standard in most medical cases under $5000, the guy said his office doesn’t have to follow the law ….wtf?!?
Then he started threatening me saying he will call the cops on me, send my information to the “credit companies” and that his office will let my employer know that I’m stealing because they have my employers info through my insurance (his exact words).
I’m gonna follow up with the BBB and Deartment of Public Health but I’m also curious, has anyone had a similar experience with this dental office or in CT in general?
I’m still in shock over the whole thing and I’m honestly ready to just go back to driving over an hour each way to my old dentist in Yonkers, NY.
In the meantime, I’m going to keep checking my insurance online to see when the claim gets processed and make a payment then. Sheesh what a crazy experience.
Fuck New England dental in danbury!

I have a medical condition that is well documented and has been getting worse due to working in the office. The HR team at my job reviewed the functional limitations and recommendations for remote work that my doctor wrote and stated that working remotely for these limitations were not reasonable. They also stated that my doctor's letter did not state it is required to be remote. I'm so confused about what they need.
I know HR is doing their job. They offered for me to submit more medical documentation and said they are not outright denying my request for remote work. The problem is they can't tell me what is needed, and my doctor also doesn't know what else more to provide. I'm struggling to go into the office due to my medical condition and cannot take advantage of any job-protected leave. I just want to do my job and be healthy. Any advice or feedback on this?

Roberson Alphonse
After several dozen flights funded by the USA to transport materials for the construction of the Kenyan forces' camp and to deliver armored vehicles for the PNH, Toussaint Louverture International Airport received its first commercial flight on Monday, May 20, 2024, more than two months after its closure due to repeated gang attacks.
"We received the first international flight today," revealed a source close to the headquarters of the PNH. The resumption of commercial flights, a turning point, comes amid notable progress in the security consolidation of this infrastructure, just days before the deployment of the first elements of the Kenyan police for the Multinational Security Support Mission (MSSM), learned Le Nouvelliste.
A delegation of Kenyans arrived in Haiti on Monday aboard a Sunrise Airways flight. The delegation is expected to stay in Haiti for the entire week and will meet with Haitian officials, it was learned on Monday.
Kenyan media The Star.co.ke earlier reported on Monday that a reconnaissance and advance team of about ten police officers left Kenya on Saturday night. Authorities indicated that the team was to assemble in Miami, United States, before heading to Port-au-Prince.
According to The Star.co.ke, Principal Secretary for Foreign Affairs Korir Singoei stated on Sunday that Kenya would deploy its police officers to Haiti in a few days.
The team that left Kenya on Saturday will pave the way for the deployment of a first group of around 200 police officers in the coming days, officials said. Kenya, which will lead the gang-fighting team, plans to deploy over 1,000 agents to Haiti to contribute to the mission.
The teams are part of the Rapid Deployment Unit (RDU), the Anti-Stock Theft Unit (ASTU), the General Service Unit (GSU), and the Border Patrol Unit (BPU). This is a combat-trained team that, according to authorities, can professionally handle the situation on the ground.
They have undergone training in various areas, including learning the languages spoken in Haiti.
Officials stated that they would be allowed to use, among other things, AK47 rifles for their operations.
"We don't expect them to use any other weapons they haven't handled in the past," said an official familiar with the plans, quoted by this Kenyan media outlet.
The team was expected to be in Haiti when Mr. Ruto arrived in the United States. Mr. Ruto left for the United States on Sunday evening for a week-long trip, according to this Kenyan media outlet.
The White House confirmed that President Joe Biden and First Lady Jill Biden would welcome Mr. Ruto and his wife, First Lady Rachael Ruto, for a state visit on May 23, on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of diplomatic relations between the United States and Kenya, according to The Star.co.ke.
USA Takes Center Stage
The United States plays a leading role in providing financial and logistical support for the deployment of the MMSS.
Last week, the head of the United States Southern Command, General Laura Richardson, said before an audience at the Woodrow Wilson Center in Washington, D.C. that not only was the deployment of the Kenyans on track but also that "we will be ready to go on May 23," as reported by the Miami Herald.
"We are working very, very hard," said Mr. Richardson, adding that the US military is also focused on reopening the airport and the main seaport, both of which were closed due to violence in early March. "I think everyone should have hope and be positive, and watch this (...) we will make sure that this time it is a success."
General Laura Richardson noted that the police and members of the Haitian armed forces successfully repelled attempts by armed groups to take over the airport, allowing Southcom to coordinate the arrival of dozens of American military aircraft in recent weeks to support the mission. Ms. Richardson declined to go into details, stating that she would leave it to Mr. Ruto and President Joe Biden to address the issue. The two leaders are expected to meet during Mr. Ruto's visit to the United States on May 23, which will include a state dinner at the White House.
Ms. Richardson, as reported by the Miami Herald, also made a revelation about the upcoming mission led by Kenya. There will be "a limited number of US personnel," she said, who will assist with mission logistics. Several countries in the region will provide police forces and training.
The Americans, who approved $70 million in security aid to Haiti, delivered equipment to the PNH. "The General Director of the PNH, Mr. Frantz Elbé, accompanied by members of the High Command of the PNH, received, this Sunday, May 19, 2024, at Toussaint Louverture International Airport, a batch of ten armored vehicles donated by the US Government, through the International Narcotics And Law Enforcement (INL)," the PNH noted via its Facebook page. "The reception of this batch of equipment took place in the presence of the US Ambassador to Haiti, Mr. Dennis Bruce Hankins. These (10) armored vehicles aim to contribute to strengthening the operational capabilities of the Haitian National Police to continue combating organized crime in all its forms," according to the PNH.
On May 11, 10 armored troop carriers were received by the PNH. "We are starting to receive equipment as part of substantial support from the United States to the PNH," said our source from the headquarters who did not want to go into details. "We are still in the preparation phase before entering the phase of dismantling the gangs," this source replied.
On Monday, May 20, the PNH announced that, as part of an operation on Sunday in Gressier, several criminals were apprehended, assault rifles and mobile phones were confiscated. The PNH shared a photo of two recovered assault rifles.
Challenges for the PNH
Meanwhile, gangs, through TikTok and other social media, swear they are ready for action. Yesterday, Sunday, the gangs shared images of destruction using an excavator at the Croix-des-Bouquets police station and the adjacent civilian prison, inaugurated in 2012 and built with funding of $5.7 million Canadian dollars. The gangs maintain their grip on downtown Port-au-Prince.
https://lenouvelliste.com/en/article/248249/heading-towards-mmss-deployment-and-efforts-to-enhance-the-pnh
​

A while back I was interested in moving to a slightly bigger apartment. Found a place nearby at a complex and toured.
I thought it was fine, then they told me I had to pay the $300 security deposit before looking at the lease. I thought that was weird but I was (at the time) very confident I wanted the apartment. So I paid the security deposit then looked at the lease. I made extra sure to note that this was the SECURITY deposit, and not a housing deposit, which I had already paid. It was like $100.
The lease had a few red flags I won't get into, but it also had the wrong unit number and was on the first floor instead of the second like I wanted. I tried emailing, no response. I tried calling, never got through. So I took the time to drive out there just so they could clarify. They basically told me they could write up a new lease real quick with the correct unit and the new rent. But the new rent was about $100 extra.
At that point I was pretty mad and I didn't want to pay an extra $1200 a year. So I told them no thanks, I won't be signing.
Later that day I emailed them and said yo give me my security desposit back, but I understood I'd lose the housing deposit. And they emailed me back basically saying the security deposit was not refundable "because I cancelled."
At this point I was BIG mad. So I emailed back citing my state's laws regarding security deposits and how they are to be used. Such as how they're held in escrow, are refundable based on certain conditions and all that. No response for a week.
After that week I printed out a letter threatening a lawsuit in small claims in 14 days if they don't return my security deposit. Mailed it to their office after double checking the mailing address.
Two weeks later I still had no response. I then filed a complaint with the state attorney generals office and then I sent one last email to them saying I would file suit the next morning. I finally got a response a few hours later and they said they'd mail me a check. I got it in the mail about two days later.
Why all that trouble just to return a security deposit? Are they just incompetent or is it malicious? It's silly that I have to threaten legal action just to get MY OWN money back.
TLDR: Apartment complex made me pay the security deposit before signing the lease, I said whatever and paid it, then I changed my mind and had to threaten a lawsuit to get the deposit back.

Chapter 1

Concept art for Sybil
Of Men and Ghost Ships, Book 1: Chapter 21
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As Carter walked onto the bridge, he was surprised that only the girl was present, but he decided to shrug it off. Maybe they were having fun observing their new toy ant colony or whatever the vixen would call the cockroach equivalent. Instead, he spoke to the Sybil who was present. "Well, now that everyone's settled in, so to speak, how do we go about unloading them?"
Instead of adjusting her glasses and launching into an analytical assessment as he expected, the girl looked at Carter with a raised eyebrow. "You want to get rid of them so soon? After being stuck with us for the last few weeks, I figured you'd be with them, enjoying some human company."
Carter shrugged. "This may surprise you, but despite seeking out the glamorous lifestyle of a solo cargo hauler, I'm not much of a people person. I'm not saying I'm a huge fan of empty halls and dust-filled rooms, but I'm not looking into making several dozen new friends, either."
The girl shrugged. "As you prefer, though these may very well be the last people you'll have a chance to get to know."
When Carter didn't say anything, she continued. "Well, unloading them isn't as easy as flying to a space station and dropping them off. It may have been a while, but I'm sure the local governments still have at least some record of all our pirate activity over the years. It might be better to wait until we come across a cargoship of some kind and drop them off there."
Carter laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure any captain would be delighted to take on a whole extra crew's worth of mouths to feed when they have little to offer in return. Not to mention the difficulty of even getting someone to stay and listen long enough to ask. Maybe the new guys never heard of you, but almost anyone who's been in the game long enough to become a captain will know of the stories and rumors about the Sybil. As soon as we show up, any sane captain will either run or shoot first and ask questions later!"
The girl smiled, though this smile would probably be more at home on the vixen's face. "Yes, that has been our general experience as well. So what is it you suggest, Captain?"
Carter stopped and thought about it a moment. "Well, you need to hunt ships to repair and maintain yourself anyway, right? If we take one in good enough condition, we could just give it to them and let them fly off on their own..."
The girl looked bemused. "Quite generous of you to just let them have an entire ship just like that."
Carter shrugged. "Listen, I'm not saying we give them a battleship or some state-of-the-art freighter, but pirates tend to convert anything they can get their hands on into some sort of fighting vessel, whether it's in good shape or a junker. We can probably find some old, beaten-down freighter that's not worth the resources to consume and let them have that. It won't be glorious, but it should get them to a nearby colony or station, and they can figure it out from there."
Now, the girl seemed inscrutable. "So, you want us to become pirate hunters now? Like some sort of do-gooders from a children's cartoon?"
Carter shook his head, then stopped and thought about it. "No... Well, not quite, anyway. Listen, I'm not looking to take on any more than we can chew, and I'm definitely not interested in risking life and limb for a bunch of people I've never met, but this way, we can satisfy everyone's needs and not take it out on a bunch of people who are just trying to get by same as us. It'll get you the resources you need, get the pirate the fight he craves, and let the vixen torment lowlifes to her heart's content. It's what we call a win-win...win."
The girl looked bemused again. "The pirate and...vixen..?"
Carter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Hey, I gotta call you all something other than Sybil. You might all share one mind and memory, but you're all very different people to me. What did you want me to do? Call you all Sybil? That would get confusing real quick!"
The girl laughed. "I suppose, given your... limited perception, that makes sense. So, what's your little nickname for this version of me?"
Carter wondered briefly if he was talking to the vixen in disguise, but despite her choice of words, it lacked the edge or condescension she usually had. Instead, he decided to just answer. "The girl, I suppose."
This time, the girl looked mildly offended. "'The girl?' Really? I'm almost surprised you didn't choose something really witty like four eyes or bookworm!"
Carter grinned. "I didn't know you liked books!"
It was the girl's turn to roll her eyes. "Not the point!"
Carter decided to take pity on her. "Well, what would you like me to call you then?"
That seemed to stump the girl. "What? Do you want me to come up with a name for myself? I already have one. I'm Sybil!"
Back where he started, Charter shrugged again. "Hey, that's fine. I respect that. But given my 'limited perception,' I still have to differentiate you somehow. I can just stick with the girl, pirate, and vixen if you prefer."
The girl shook her head. "No...I'll think about it..."
Carter grinned. "That's all I ask! For now, anyway. And while you do that, I'll go enjoy some 'human company' and have a word with our guests about what we're gonna do with them. Maybe they'll have an idea or two to offer."
-
Alen had just finished eating and was trying to think of some way to pass the time that didn't involve exercising, eating, or sleeping, which seemed to be the only three things available for the crew when Captain Carter walked into the mess hall. He looked around for a bit, then upon seeing Erik, Vanessa, and Alen, who'd taken to eating together, he seemed to brighten slightly and approach the table.
Unsure of what the Captain would want but nonetheless curious, Alen found himself interested, but after Carter laid out his plan, Alen was suddenly less interested. "You want to pick a fight with a bunch of pirates to get us a ship? Are you insane? There's got to be some backwater colony you can drop us off at!"
The Captain shrugged. "Any colony backwater enough to not have records on this ship or be a threat to us is gonna be too small to handle your crew being suddenly dumped on them without notice. Besides, this way, you all can sell the ship, and you won't be starting from nothing!"
Alen shook his head. "We won't be able to sell anything if you get us killed before you unload us! This just sounds like suicide the hard way!"
The Captain didn't seem dissuaded. "Listen, this ship has been feared for hundreds of years for a reason. We were running on fumes in that last fight and still gave them a run for their money. Next time, we won't be on the back foot. I think we'll have that ship for you sooner rather than later!"
Alen shook his head. This guy had clearly lost his mind.
Of course, that was when Erik decided to offer his two cents. "Will we be able to have any fun, or would you be doing all the fighting?"
Alen fought the urge to slam his forehead into the table. Of course, the viking alien wanted to fight. Carter seemed thoughtful. "Well, if we take any ship intact enough to give to you all, it'll probably have to be cleared out the hard way, so I imagine you'd get to get your hands a little dirty."
Erik laughed and slapped the table. "I LIKE this plan!"
Commander Reid, who'd been walking past, looked interested in their discussion. "What's this about a fight?"
Erik grinned at the smaller man. "The Captain here wants to capture a pirate ship to give to us! But we'll have to clear the decks once the Sybil has disabled it!"
The commander took a seat at their table. "What kind of weaponry and support can you give us? What kind of a ship are we talking about? What's the crew compliment?"
Alen felt the last shreds of hope fading. This was not what he'd signed up for. When he'd managed to secure an officer position aboard the Trader's Vigilance, he'd thought he'd lucked into a nice, steady gig that would give him the experience and training he'd need to one day be captain of his own trading vessel. However, instead, he'd gotten a ship full of pirate-hunting lunatics, recruited an insane alien whose whole definition of entertainment seemed to begin and end with pirate hunting, and ended up aboard a pirate-hunting ghost ship. He was in a giant floating insane asylum and surrounded by madmen. He could only hope his family would be able to find his life insurance policy and get some use out of it...
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Well, sounds like almost all of the characters have gotten to know each other. Now to see how well they all get along!
My Wiki has all my chapters and stories, including the short series and stories that I write for an occasional change of pace or style!
As a reminder, "Of Men and Dragons" Books 1 and 2 are available to purchase in e-book or physical form. (Both softcover and hardcovers are available!) Book 3 is almost done being edited, so I'll just have to get the cover art and formatting done, and it will be available to purchase as well! Hopefully, in no more than a month or two! (Barring more Amazon drama like last time... fingers crossed!)
OMAD Book 1: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09NCPP3PP
OMAD Book 2: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ7FQ1ZJ

TLDR: I'm expecting MPs any moment because I hit my democracy officer.
Do you guys know the old movie The Incredibles? I know, I know it's old and looks terrible in SEHD, but my daughter loves that movie.
As I was heading out she asked me about my cape and if I had to wear it, and ya'know, I never thought about it... But there's a thing in the movie where it shows superheroes dying because of their cape, so she asked me if I could just not wear the cape. She actually yelled at me
"NO CAPES!"
I think that's a direct quote from the movie, she seemed to be emulating someone, it was actually kinda adorable.
So I reached out to my democracy officer to inquire about the cape regulations, and I dunno what's going on in his life, but the meeting did not go well.
All I asked him was if I could not wear the cape. At first he pulled up the SEAF Publishing Directorate (I'll admit I never knew this existed) to look at the regulations and they do clearly state that all Helldivers must wear their full uniform at all times and the cape is listed in the description of the uniform.
He took this as the final word and dismissed me, and I know, I should have just accepted that and left but all I wanted to know was if there was any appeal process, or maybe a special dispensation one could use to avoid wearing the cape.
Well he stood up and started screaming at me that I needed to leave his office immediately. I couldn't believe how upset he got with a simple question so I tried to explain about the movie and my daughter....
Well... and then.... sigh... well, he said if he saw me out of uniform he would bring a treason charge against me. That really pissed me of, but then, ah geeze, then he said he would also have my daughter brought up on a civilian treason charge.
So I hit him.
I didn't think, I actually don't know what happened it was so fast. I was upset and getting more upset but when he threatened my daughter I just kinda blanked out.
So I called the paramedics, they came within 5 minutes, and I went home.
Now that I've had some time to cool off I'm pretty sure this has gone as badly as it could have, well he's not dead, there is that. But he'll be taking meals through a straw for the foreseeable future.
Anyway, if anyone knows a good SEAF Attorney I need one asap.
thanks.

From a former board member:
Good afternoon!
To all my fellow Ithaca residents, please make sure to take to the polls today, to vote in the Ithaca City School District Board of Education election. If you believe in public education, making sure our students, teachers and support staff are getting the resources and tools they need to thrive and succeed, you will make time to get to the pools, between 12pm and 9pm. If you don’t have access to transportation, I am happy to transport folks (send me a message on Facebook or email)
As many of you know, I spent 6 years on the Board of Education, until I made the difficult decision to resign two years ago. After receiving many Facebook messages, text messages, and phone calls in the past 24 hours from friends and community members asking me who they should vote for and if they should vote yes/no to the budget, I have decided to share my thoughts publicly so I can get back to my 9-5 job for the day . As a single mom of three and a homeowner, I empathize with the sentiment of people feeling like they can no longer afford to rent or own a home in Ithaca. However, Ithaca has been becoming unaffordable for quite some time, I say this as someone who has lived in this community for 21 years. This feeling did not start with our assessment that increased this past year or the rollout of the BoE budget. Voting NO to the budget will not change your assessment, it will not “stick it” to administrators, who will get their raises along with other unionized ICSD employees as part of contractual negotiations. Voting NO will punish and hurt children, teachers and supporting staff. Teachers and support staff will have less resources and support to educate and inspire our children if we have to adopt a contingency plan. And our most vulnerable students will suffer the most. “How a society treats its most vulnerable is always the measure of its humanity” – Ghandi. In this context, how ICSD cares for and educates its most vulnerable students is an indication of how well the school district fares in educating its school community.
As we have all read about four of our schools losing “Good Standing” status with NYSED, and our Black and Brown students feeling the impact of this the most; how can we as a community in good conscious, say that we will provide our children, our future leaders with less than they deserve to overcome the many obstacles that the pandemic has created. For all the caregivers, educators, mental health workers out there, we all know - no one is okay! Some of us were not okay before we were forced into a few years of isolation, so to expect our educators to be able to reconcile the damages that the pandemic created with fewer resources is setting our educators up for the impossible. And yes, taxpayers should not have to bear the weight of this alone when we live in a town with college/university campuses. So instead of glorifying the problem, why don’t we talk about structural solutions? How many of us know Anna Kelles and Lea Webb personally, socially or professionally? Why don’t we bring in our state representatives to help us think about structural long-term solutions of state aid and university contributions? And while we are at it, invite Governor Kathy Hochul who sits on the Board of Trustees of Cornell University to this conversation; why are we not thinking strategically about those who hold power to shift this paradigm? I know this will take time, and folks are concerned with the now.
What can we do now? We can do an inventory of what ICSD offers and provides our students and staff from academics to extracurricular activities. We can ask the questions of, what is the district allocating funding for and is it effective and for whom? The district has an Evaluation Officer, we need to hear from her on what are the impacts of our initiatives, programs, and the curriculum offerings. Our teachers and support staff have unions and union leaders. We need to hear from the union leaders, not just during budget season or when chaos is amiss, but throughout the academic years so we know how best to support teachers all year long.
I will be voting yes to the budget. Yes, it is a huge increase. But guess what folks? We have 12 schools in our very small city, and we are living during a time of high inflation so the services needed to support all these 12 schools have increased. A typical classroom in our building has many adults. I bring this up because I constantly hear the comparison of salary of ICSD teachers to teachers outside the district who are making more than ICSD teachers. 9/10 times these teachers in other districts are making more money because they don’t have co-teachers, teachers assistants, teacher aides, 1:1s, etc. I am in NO way making the argument to have less support in the classroom or to eliminate positions, I am pointing out that our district has a larger supporting staff than many other districts. Teachers and supporting staff deserve a HIGHER wage without question. But this is not an ICSD only problem, this is a nationwide issue. Our country has not put anywhere near enough funding into public education that is needed. And this is not an excuse for the Board or the highly paid administration team. But we have to be real about what are the root causes vs. symptoms of the problems. Give this article a read if you have time: Schools are bracing for widespread teacher layoffs. Here’s why CNN Politics
Now the tricky part of this post, who I am voting for. I am going to be brutally honest because that is just who I am. After attending the public forum with all seven candidates, I left with very very strong opinions of what I witnessed and heard. I plan to vote for Barry Derfel, Moira Long, and Eldred Harris. I know Barry Derfel very peripherally from sitting on the BoE, as well as when I worked for the Multicultural Resource Center, and he was supporting teachers with culturally responsive teaching as well as participating with the Talking Circles initiative. What I know of Barry, is that he is a supporter of equity and inclusion, meaning NO CHILD GETS LEFT BEHIND. Barry has been a teacher, an administrator, and is a parent – he understands the many facets of public education and how we are thriving as a district and how we are failing as a district. Two truths can stand side by side.
I was on the BoE with both Eldred and Moira during my tenure, and it was not always cordial and a walk in the park between us. But what I can say, is that in those behind the door conversations, heated debates, I rarely ever questioned their commitment to children and teachers and support staff. Moira has always championed for teachers and retirees; she understands their plight and struggles as a former teacher herself. Eldred and I both grew up in NYC (though he is my senior by maybe a couple decades) and understand the struggles of being hyper visible yet unseen, overcoming adversity, attending underfunded schools, and taught by teachers who were tasked with the impossible. I know Eldred to be someone who is going to champion for what is best for every child, someone who is going to tap into their radical imagination to think of another way forward, someone who has institutional knowledge and knows how far the district has come, and someone who is willing to ask the hard questions.
I’m going to close this long monologue by saying I believe in creating space for new voices at the table. However, some of these new voices are advocating for changes that will hurt specific populations of children, like candidates who are advocating to bring back policies such as "tracking", while research shows tracking has a disparaging outcome for students and frankly is a racist policy. I said it. There are also candidates who have flip flopped on their support of the budget, telling ITA they would vote yes and after receiving the teacher’s union endorsement telling community members, they would vote no for the budget. Misleading your constituents is never a good sign and not a good way to build community trust and engagement. If I had to vote for a fourth candidate, it would be Todd Fox. He was honest and transparent about his talents and his lack of knowledge of the processes within public education. However, he spoke with passion and authenticity when speaking about his experiences in the school district as a student, and the support he wished he had as a former ICSD student. What I hope for in a school board member, is someone is not afraid to ask the hard questions, someone who listens with compassion and empathy (even if they disagree), someone who takes the time to get to know their constituents and can be honest with themselves and their fellow board members when they are individually or collectively are missing the mark. And most importantly, someone who is is always thinking about equity, and who is at the table and who is not. Our district is in need of school board members who are looking beyond what their individual child needs and instead is looking at what all of our children need in order to receive an equitable education that allows them to more than survive but to thrive within ICSD.
(excuse my typos I don’t have the energy to edit this another time, apologies)
Nicole LaFave
Nicole LaFave Interim Director of Diversity, Inclusion and Belonging Office of Diversity and Inclusion Samuel Curtis Johnson Graduate School of Management Cornell University
Edited to add that I’m not the author, just sharing.

Guys and gals, I start an electrical apprenticeship (non-union) next week with a smaller company recommended to me by a construction project manager family friend. I’m coming from a solar background, but on the office side. I did some basic design work, like looking at site survey photos and determining the best point of interconnection (eg solar breaker tie in, line side tap, etc) and reviewing one line/three line diagrams before submission to the utility company. I did this for about 2 years before sales dipped massively due to NEM 3.0 and my company laid off 60% of the company with no warning.
So, I’m not completely dumb when it comes to electrical, but I’d like any advice you guys are think worth hearing for someone going into this with no boots on the ground experience.
I’ve talked to my new boss and he seems like an awesome guy, offered to buy me all the tools I need on day 1, and assured me I’d be learning from the best in the state, so I want to make sure I’m giving that same energy back from day 1.
Thanks.

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cxj7h8/comment/l52vtd5/?context=3
*****

The Palatini of Orias journey took nine grueling days of traveling down the peaks of Torness Mountain Range. But at long last, they reached the Coralus Valley. While the temperature was far below what the half-elf usually enjoyed, it was far better than the mountain peaks.
They traveled through the valley, trying to avoid the multiple hostiles, villages, and anyone else who could tip off their enemies. They had to take every tedious path imaginable to prevent possible contact with the enemy.
Staring at their destination, Fraeya Holiadon could not decide if she should be thrilled or distorted at the sight. "Is this the place?"
"I believe so," Raegel said. "The pattern of the structures matches my drawings and the map. See the remains of the two walls?"
"And the stone rings that direct out," Henness said.
"So, you have read the legends," Raegel said, surprised by the centurion's knowledge of the temple.
"I always prepare before a mission," Henness said. "Those half rings, are they stone or artificial?"
"They look like stone, so I think they used the ground stone and molded them," Raegel said.
Fraeya Holiadon carefully stared at the temple ruins. All she could see was the destruction—fractured stone buildings, walls, weed-infested stone pavement, and so on. While there were still many stone structures, most were destroyed. She could only see death, not the walls her father could see.
She turned to ask her father what he was talking about but saw Centurion Fionntan Henness pointing toward the walls and other details.
Watching the two communicate about the features of the temple, she realized how out of depth she was. Her father spent generations studying ruins like this, while Henness is an experienced soldier. For Fraeya, this was her first mission outside the academy supervision, and she realized how different the world was compared to the classroom.
As the two spoke, her elf ears overheard Henness mention that he saw green webbing. As the two men debated what creatures could create that webbing, she already knew based on the type of webbing. Being an excellent student, she recalled the topic regarding intelligent monsters. While many species produce a web, only one creates a thick green. Goblins.
"Father," Fraeya said. "I think goblins made those webbings."
"How could you possibly know that?" Henness asked, unconvinced by the theory. "It would easily be Rorgo or a Kipt."
Fraeya reached into her backpack and pulled out her notepad. She flipped through the pages and responded, "Kipt is more silk-like, while Rorgo is more for capturing prey. Both are white. Only Goblins make green."
"She is correct," Raegel said. "The green should have been a given."
"Alright," Henness said. "That complicates things."
"How so?" Fraeya asked. "The academy said they are weak. Adventures and local militia kill them constantly, so your men should be able to wipe them out with your weaponry easily."
"Goblins are weak in small numbers, but they are a nightmare in large numbers," Henness said. "And depending on the horde, they adapt to who their enemies are quickly. For all I know, we could be fighting a nest that is as heavily armed as we are."
Fraeya looked back toward the next with much confusion. She knew about the goblin's ability to adapt. However, her teachers never stated how formal they could be. Only treating them as barbarians is a functional civilization. "I would think the academy would mention something like that."
"If you are going to be out here in the world, you must understand that life is very different from the classroom," Henness said. "The difference between someone who lives behind a desk versus someone on the ground. Now, I need to get my forces ready for our attack."
Once the centurion left, Fraeya looked at her father. "I am starting to get the impression that my schooling wasn't as truthful as I once thought."
Raegel chuckled at the statement from his daughter. "That is what I said when I left my academy in Thali'ean," he said with a short chuckle before he spoke. "Henness was correct; there is a large gap between the classroom and out here in the world."
"I see. So, now, what do we do?"
"We wait for the legionaries to form a plan. Because time is not on our side, he will want you to assist with your magic. Do you think you can assist? If you are uncomfortable, tell me now, and you can stay here where it is safe."
Feeling a nervous chill creeping down her spine, she looked back toward the temple and breathed heavily. "I admit, I am scared, but I didn't come here to babysit the camp. I want to help."
She felt her father pat her on the back, feeling a sense of pride from his touch.
"That's my daughter."
After an hour of planning, the Palatini of Orias began their assault on the temple ruins. The plan was for a primary team to assault the temple directly, triggering a response from the goblin. The second team would remain on the high ground and pick off the horde.
Fraeya ended up on the right side of the group team. To her surprise, many soldiers were thrilled that they were finally getting into a fight. She wondered, after two weeks of crawling over the mountains and hiding like rodents, they finally got a chance to be soldiers.
The primary assault group she was attached to advance toward the temple once the signal was given. Passing one of the few remaining wall structures, they entered the temple ground. As they swept through the old temple's front sections, the goblins huddled around a fire pit, noticed them, and prepared for battle.
Three legionaries known as circilmen, from the palatini positioned themselves to engage the incoming enemy. Carrying a ranged projectile weapon known as a circiletum, they hid behind the front shield men and fired upon the incoming enemy. They picked off two of the three goblins as the last one quickly crawled under a piece of rubble for cover. Then, the palatini heard a painful screech from the hiding goblin.
Fraeya couldn't help herself but stand there noticing the two fresh corpses. She then watched as two of the swordsmen rushed to the hiding goblin. They reached in and pulled the little green monster out of its hiding spot.
Two swordsmen grabbed the goblin and dragged it from its cover, it jumped on top of one of the legionaries, stabbing its blade into its armor, unable to break through. With a short struggle, the legionary could slam the goblin onto the ground. The other legionary stomped on the body before thrusting his gladius into the monster.
Hearing another screech, Fraeya looked down the stone path and saw goblins popping out of every crack and corner.
One of the legionary officers ordered the unit to reform. The swordsmen took the front with their large scutum shields, creating a two-line protective shield wall. Behind them were the circilmen, taking cover behind the scutum.
The group of goblins charged forward. As they approached, the legionaries saw the raw, starving rage within their dark green eyes—a thirst for primal instincts of food and lust and nothing else.
"Fraeya, is it?"
Hearing her name, she turned to the commanding offer of this group.
"When I give the order, shake the ground." The lower-ranking Centurian said.
Fraeya acknowledged the order as she understood what he was planning.
Turning back to the incoming horde, she watched the three circilmen open fire. The circiletums cut down the forward group of goblins. The ones behind that row suddenly stopped from the shock but were cut down by a second volley.
"Now. Before they scatter."
Fraeya placed her hands together and chanted. The two tiny mana crystals on her gloves blew green as she felt a raw energy channel through her body. A moment later, that glow expanded to the point that it encompassed her hand.
Channeling the mana needed for the spell, Fraeya placed her left hand on the ground.
The stone ground beneath them shook the stone terra, stunning the goblins. Right down the center, cracks formed, and the terra broke apart. The road slightly uplifted into an elevation, forcing the goblins to focus on what was happening.
With the ground disinformed, it prevented the enemy from scattering in an organized manner, allowing the circilmen to fire another volley.
The front scutum marched forward and started cutting down anything that moved. The other line split into two groups. They were marching down the street in an almost synchronized manner. They held their shields high toward the ruins, protecting the circilmen from any incoming projectile. Arrows and magic.
Fireballs flew and impacted the scutum infantry, protecting the flanks. Some of the shields glowed from the impact. The flames engulfed one of the men's arms, and he started to scream from the pain.
The circilmen returned fire, and a firefight began. The sound of their weapons crackled throughout the surrounding area, amplified by the ruined walls. Above the sound of battle were the voices and cries of the wounded—the circiletum that were deployed on the ridge above rained fire from the suppressive team.
The Palatini of Orias pushed deeper into the temple ground as the battle continued. That was until the town began to be consumed by this thick haze, providing cover for the goblins, and restricting visibility for the Lat forces. While not educated to the standards of civilized races, Goblins were not stupid.
"It is a haze," Fraeya said. "They must have a mage somewhere within the nest."
Centurion Fionntan Henness approached their forces and began to regroup. "Can you counter it?"
"No," Fraeya replied. "I never studied Aeromancy magic."
"Nebulo," Henness said. "Our armor and weapons will be less effective."
Fraeya understood his concern. From what she recalled from her classes; goblins have sharp senses. Based on the density of the haze, it was clear even to her that they were planning to force them to huddle and expose themselves to be surrounded, making their ranged weapons worthless.
"We will just have to work around it," Raegel said.
As Frayea prepared herself, she felt a strange feeling throughout her body, almost like some field affecting her body. She saw a female legionary in light armor and a cloak checking over the wounded. One of the few women in the legionary, she could tell she was the unit healer specializing in Sanamancy magic. The women must have placed a barrier to help protect against any poisonous gasses lying within the haze.
Orias advanced through the haze; this forced the soldiers to clump together for safety. As the assault group progressed, they were hit non-stop by the goblin's arrow fire, spears, and fire shots from sling guns. Most of these projectiles caused minor damage thanks to the heavy armor legionary’s wear. However, this did not remove the damage as it brought discomfort and limited their progression to a crawl.
Barely noticing two figures on top of a rooftop through the haze, who were firing slingshots toward their position, she pointed her hand toward a piece of rubble and, with her magic, lifted the debris and projected it through the haze. The rubble temporarily formed a gap in the haze that increased the line-of-sight.
She then called out to the fire battle mage within the unit. The mage realized what was happening and fired multiple firebolts toward the tower. Five bolts impacted the building from different directions, engulfing the structure in flames. Everyone could hear the faint sound of goblins screaming as the building burnt.
With the tower collapsing suddenly, arrows rained through the thick haze, hitting the legionaries in retaliation. While most arrows bounced off the armor, some found exposed spots. Two more legionaries fell to their knees, with one vomiting blood, forcing the healed to focus on the sick over protecting the group.
It became clear that the goblins changed their tactics and poisoned their arrows. While worthless against armor, they could still puncture the underneath clothing and scrap any exposed part of the skin.
A luperca legionnaire picked up an old broken wagon and used it as a shield to protect. With the cover, the lower ranking commanders directed the circilmen to pick off any goblins that peaked above the surface.
Combined with the haze and change of tactic, this formed a strange stalemate between the two sides. The Orias was forced into a defensive; they were well equipped to deal with any goblins who dared to get within melee range. However, the goblins had surrounded and had the range advance as they could see through the haze, allowing them to snipe any legionary who adventured far from the group.
Fraeya saw a blob of acid impact a swordsmen's scutum. The scutum started being consumed by the spell, slowly falling into pieces. The man screamed as he felt his arm burn, desperately untieing the strappings to ditch the heavy shield.
"We need to kill their shaman before we are picked off," Raegel said.
"I agreed," Henness replied. "As long as this haze is here, my suppressive team is useless."
"If I recall," Fraeya said. "A Shaman should be nearby. Someone close enough to maintain this haze and give commands but not put themselves in danger."
"Then I know where it should be," Henness said. "Let's go half-elf."
She felt her ears perk up once she realized the centurion was talking about her. She looked toward her father and saw the 'it is time to prove yourself' look. Taking a deep breath and preparing herself, she gathered behind Henness and six of his men.
The assault unit left the main one and adventurer deeper into the temple grounds. As they reached what remained of an intersection, goblins stormed out of the stone buildings to ambush the legionaries.
With their disciplined reaction, the legionaries immediately adjusted their formation and sliced down the attackers. Henness stood at the center, holding his sword out as flames wrapped around the blade.
As the goblins attacked the swordsmen, Fraeya broke apart the ground on the right flank, knocking many goblins. The one that fell, she entangled them by summoning vines - which trapped the goblins and pulled them into the ground until their death or burial.
She then turned and lifted parts of the ground on the left flank, blocking some of the goblins. This prevented the legionaries from being encircled.
"Reform," Henness ordered. "We need to advance quickly. Stay close."
Once the path was clear, the unit moved toward the building where the goblins had fortified. Henness moved in front of her to provide protection. He held up his shield, deflecting arrows.
"Stay behind me," Henness said.
While not being a military woman, Fraeya quickly learned to accept the chain of command on this quest. On the battlefield, her father told her to listen to Henness as he was a man of war. She realized that the structure and safety of the city and the academy are vastly different in the countryside. Getting behind him, she followed him close behind as he pushed forward, arrows striking his shield, allowing her to get in range for her spell.
The legionaries stopped engaging the incoming goblins, allowing their centurion and the young mage to get closer. Henness reached around his scutum and pressed the amulet attached to the outer shell's center. Once pressed, the large shield briefly glowed before darkening, returning to the standard red with white lining design.
Up ahead, Fraeya saw in full display of the nest. Spikes, fortification, and green webbing filled the gaps between the ruined structures. Skeletons and decomposing bodies littered the areas of their past victims. The goblins were standing in the bunker sections, preparing for battle. With how heavily guarded it was, she concluded that this must be where the Shaman was.
"Fraeya, now!"
Fraeya moved around the man to cast her spell. With a quick chant, her hands glowed green again. As she channeled her mana, an acid attack impacted Henness' scutum. While the added hardening enchantment from the amulet increased the scutum resistance, the acid slowly ate through the large shield.
Stepping from cover, Fraeya aimed her hands at the nest. The ground trembled a little as the front of the nest collapsed on itself from the summoned sinkhole.
With the front entrance open, Fraeya saw the Shaman in plain view—a female, being one of the few within a goblin nest. The Shama looked scared as she looked around where to hide.
Fraeya did not give it time as she cast a spell that created a spike from the ground below the Shaman and pierced straight through the vicious monster, killing it instantly.
As the Shaman staff hit the ground, the haze started to disappear.
Believing that her work was complete after killing the goblin leader, her ears quickly heard footsteps surrounding them.
Noticing that the goblins were about to swarm their position, she took cover behind Henness to protect his rear. She took a deep breath as she felt exhausted from the battle and cast so many spells quickly.
Starting at five goblins that emerged from the ruins, Fraeya watched as they charged toward them. Before they got close, however, each one was sniped from the ridge-side suppressive team.
With a moment of confusion, she stared toward the cliffside and saw the suppressive team. Now that the haze is disappearing, they could snipe off the remaining goblins from their elevation position.
"Good job, half-elf," Henness said, slowly stepping back with a shield aimed at the flames, guiding Fraeya back.
"Stop calling me half-elf," Fraeya yelled. "I am out here risking my life with the rest of you, and don't give me that war is a male-domain thing! I am willing to see this through. Most of my kind would stay home and let you fight, so why do you keep degrading me?"
"Because ideals get people killed," Fionntan Henness replied. "Out here, you must earn that respect within the brotherhood of warriors, especially if you are used to living inside the city walls. People with a self-protected mindset usually end up as food for the worms or get my soldiers killed because they do not understand what it takes to survive."
The centurion then turned to the destroyed nest. "I will say, though, what you did here. It is a good first step for a half-elf." He then turned to give her an approving smile.
Not understanding the humor from the Lat, Fraeya accepted it. From her experience, Lats always had a strange sense of humor. Insults are sometimes seen as compliments while praising could be considered offensive. Saying one thing but meaning another is a common trait for them.
With the remaining palatini coming after clearing the remaining goblins, Fraeya saw her father. She rushed over and hugged him and teared up.
"You did good, my dear," Raegel said as he patted her.
"Is this really what it is like out here?" Fraeya asked.
"Sadly, it is," Fraeya replied. "That is why I never brought you around on my digs."
"I am sorry to interrupt," Henness said. "We are on borrowed time, so can we get at it?"
Fraeya looked toward the centurion with frustration as she wanted a moment with her father. After taking a deep breath, she realized that he was right.
After finishing her hug, she brushed off the goblin's blood and clothing.
"Then we better begin searching for what we came for," Raegel said as he reached for his bag. She watched as he pulled out a perfectly smoothed, pure black orb. By itself, it didn't look impressive. She had seen hundreds of these orbs at the academy or the many workshops within the city.
Raegel held the orb in one hand and activated it with his mana. The orb glowed light blue and fainted, barely emitting any energy. He then took it against the mountain and began scanning.
Not wanting to miss anything, Fraeya quickly pulled out her journal, skipping past all her notes until she reached a blank page. She then began documenting everything her father did, taking in every world and detail.
The palatini began walking through the ruins, heading toward the mountain wall. Raegel explained in his research that the temple extended inside the mountain, like a dwarf borrian. While others who came before him came up with this theory, they were still looking for a way to detect the hidden door markings and find it.
Raegel moved down the side of the mountain, holding the orb high.
"Why are you not using a door-detecting amulet?" Fraeya asked.
"Because people have been using that for generations and found nothing here," Raegel replied.
After a reasonable amount of time when nothing had happened, Fraeya began to wonder if everything was for nothing. Seeing the lack of progress, Henness inquired if the orb failed to work. As Raegel replied, the orb suddenly blimped orange for a moment.
Witnessing the sudden change, the group backed away as they did not know how to respond to the sudden glow.
Noticing a renewed excitement from her father, she followed him closely as they investigated the mountainside.
As they searched, her father noticed that the faint blue glow from the orb had changed to orange. It then disappeared and slowly appeared, like it was slowly pulsing. When they continued walking forward, the pulsing light increased in speed.
"I think it is directing us, father," Fraeya said.
"Possible," Raegel said. "There must be some type of link."
The palatini followed the direction the orb gave. As the group approached a mountainside wall, the pulse frequency increased until it looked like the orb glowed a solid color.
"I think we found it," Raegel said. He lifted the orb toward the wall.
As the orb drew closer to the mountainside, these blue lines appeared all over the rocky wall. The rough chips of rock melted away and turned smooth as the light traveled through the grooves, slowly creating what looked like a giant door of light.
Once the bright lights finished designing a massive door, Fraeya placed her hand on the wall, shocked at how the natural bulky rocks turned into a marble-like wall.
"I would step aside, Fraeya," Raegel said.
As Fraeya stepped backward, she watched her father open the door with a magical spell. Like most magical doors, the door brightened as she expected it would fold into the mountain. To her surprise, the door didn't fold away but melted into the ground.
"What happened to the door?" Fraeya asked.
Raegal placed his hand on his chin. "It seemed that the wall was not solid but some liquid matter. These people are impressive."
The wall began to shake as dusk from the cracks spread through the area.
A large opening formed as the door walls folded into the mountainside. A passage leading deeper into the mountain. The walls were black and smooth, while the floor had these textiles in perfect order, leading deeper into the mountain.
"This has to be a dwarven design," Fraeya commented. "Only they could do something like this."
"I'm not sure," Raegel said. "This is not a design I have seen from dwarves."
Fraeya understood what her father meant. Dwarven doors into the mountains took a lot of work to find. While there were many designs of such hidden doors and the means to open them, it was doubtful that anyone had ever seen a secret magical door like this before.
Raegel started to walk into the chamber but was suddenly stopped by Henness. Stating that he wanted his men to go first to ensure no trap, three legionaries moved through the large chamber. Once they gave the clear, the rest of the group entered.
While walking, Fraeya stayed close to her father as she took notes. The soldiers ahead of them set up torches to add more light. To her surprise, the walls and floor were smooth. The air was stale, probably trapped within this chamber for centuries.
As they walked inside, the room lit up. Everyone stopped as they looked toward the end of the hall. The chamber was empty, with only a strange-looking platform at the very end. Noticing that the orb was pointing toward the platform, they approached it.
"Is this it?" Henness asked. "It does not look that impressive."
"Not everything is based on size, centurion," Raegel replied, to which his daughter giggled.
Fraeya then analyzed the platform. It was smooth, almost marble-like. However, she doubted whether it was marble. The fundamental details that she noticed were a strange-looking blue crystal at the center of the platform and another in a hole on the side.
"This is interesting," Fraeya commented. The design looked surprisingly simple. This orb must act as some command orb for this device. They must be communicating in some manner."
"Assuming that the legend was true, the orcs were the ones who summoned the lats from Altaerrie," Fraeya said. "Maybe, when this place was lost of that time, it was never turned off. Being left in a state of slumber, waiting to be reawakened."
"Possible. It would explain why the orb directed us here. The orange pulse is now pointing down at a rapid pace."
"I think it goes into that hole, father," Fraeya said. "From what I can tell, the crystal in there connects to the one on top of the platform."
"I see," Raegel said. "The pulse is pointing toward it too. I recommend that everyone step back."
"Be careful, father," Fraeya said.
Stepping back from the platform, Fraeya watched as her father placed the orb into the hole. This was the moment her father had been talking about for decades, and it had finally come true. The Bridge between two worlds had finally been discovered.
As Raegel placed the orb into the platform, it glowed orange in a solid state, no longer pulsing. The blue crystal in the middle of the platform slowly lit up, like it was waking up after a long sleep.
The air suddenly chilled as the air flowed toward the platform. A bright light beamed out of the crystal and slowly faded away, leaving a light as if on standby.
To their dismay, the orb changed to red, dimming and brightening in a slow, tired pattern.
"What is it doing, father?" Fraeya asked.
"I have no idea," Raegel replied. "It must be waiting for something."