Right so by July 1st I’ll hit the fleet and become a LCPL. Pretty much done with training in this coming week and then it’s just admin for the most part. I understand there’s certs and side quests to accomplish on marine net.
I’d like to get swimming certs. Yesterday I made it to the pool and ya I still got it so what can I rack up onto that rap sheet? There’s apparently a scuba cert which I didn’t find out till yesterday is offered here .-.
I heard about the book reports too, I’m always reading or writing.
I understand my physical scores are big part of promotion competition too.
Besides all of that I’m looking for tips and how the actual promotion process works. Like how do I become a Cpl from step one to one million?

The dungeon master described the party stepping through the wizard's portal into the plane of Elemental Chaos. "Before you lies a tempestuous sea of ever-changing terrain and clashing elements. The portal has opened onto a planetoid floating in the sea of shifting energies. Standing a ways away is a giant humanoid figure that seems to be made out of some of the same energies."
"Giant?" Sara asked?
"Yeah, it's like fifty feet tall. Looking upon its face makes your gut wrench as its face is a pool of ever-churning distorted energies. Make a save versus fear."
The players snatched up dice bags. Twenty-sided dice were rolled all around the table, but Mary, sitting to the right of Sara, noticed that Sara hesitated.
"What did you call these things again?" Sara asked. "Primordials? I didn't really imagine that they'd be so ugly or terrifying... or big."
"Oh, fine," the dungeon master responded. "Ambriel the rogue can have advantage on this check. What is your roll?"
Sara picked up an extra dice, tossed them into the bowl on the table and squinted at them in the dim light of the basement. "I got an eight." she said, frowning.
"Sorry, Ambriel and anyone else that got below a ten is afraid of the figure and will be at a disadvantage for initiative. The figure lets out a scream that sounds like an avalanche in a hurricane. Roll initiative!"
"Nineteen!" the boy across the table said. "Fifteen!" said another after rolling some dice. "I have a plus two, and I only got a twelve." said Mary.
"What about you Sara?" the dungeon master asked.
"Um, I don't want to fight it. Can I try talking to it?"
"I guess so," said the dungeon master, frowning. "What will you try saying to it?
"Well first," Sara started, "Is it at its house?"
The dungeon master and the boys across the table erupted into laughter. The dungeon master managed to stop laughing and reply. "These things don't have houses. They just live outside in the chaos."
"Oh." Sara looked disappointed. "I thought they would have houses." and then quieter. "Maybe a family."
The dungeon master laughed again. "What are you going to say to it?"
"I guess I'll say: 'Greetings friend! Do you know which way it is to the Dark Wizard Malik's tower?'"
The dungeon master laughed yet again. "It doesn't seem to understand what you're saying. It screams again and then attacks. Do you have your initiative number yet?"
Mary had been glaring at the dungeon master. He finally noticed her expression and slouched down, a sheepish look crossing his face as if he knew he was going to be in trouble.
Sara frowned, rolled her dice, and then stated "Six."
The party proceeded to fight with the primordial and Sara participated but wasn't really enjoying the situation. After the beast fell the party raced to loot its corpse.
"What did we find?" the boy across the table asked eagerly.
"Nothing, of course!" the dungeon master announced with some glee in his voice. "The primordial's body has evaporated and merged with the endless chaos around you."
"Well that's at least one thing you got right." Sara said.
"What do you mean?" Mary asked.
"Oh, forget it." Sara responded.
The end of the combat signaled the end of the evening since it was already past eight. The friends scooped dice and character sheets back into their bags, cleaned up the snacks, and said their goodbyes for the evening. Sara walked up the stairs and into the front yard with the other two boys. Chris's mom was there to pick up him and Tyler. She waved at them as they drove away and then started toward her own house just down the street.
The walk was only five minutes, if she took her time, and she had walked this street a hundred times before. She was enjoying the breeze and the crisp night air and didn't notice when the footsteps behind her started. When she noticed them she'd picked up her pace but they grew uncomfortably close. Sara spun around and was faced with a figure in the shadows behind her. It was only a few feet away but she couldn't make out a face.
"What do you want?" She asked the shadow. It did not respond. It did, however, step forward into the glow of the nearby street light. Still, its form appeared like a pitch black hole in the world; a torn place in space the shape and size of a man. The shadow reached toward Sara and she knew that this was an undead being. It had been hoping it could claim the life force of a human this evening; to pull her into the shadow realm and keep her there till she had faded away and become another shadow. Unfortunately for the shadow, she was not a victim that could be claimed so easily.
Sara dropped her book back and grabbed the shadow's arm, glancing down the street to make sure it was clear. Then she released her human disguise and pulled the shadow closer. She stared into the colorless void where its eyes should have been and the shadow stared back into the ever-changing distortion that her face had become. Lightning arced across Sara's skin that now appeared to be made of a roiling mass of stone and waves of pure water.
Sara's outline blurred and her humanoid form faded almost completely, leaving a cloud of elements ever fighting for position, yet she didn't let go of the shadow. The shadow was in a panic now, struggling and desperately trying to free itself from her grasp, to no avail. Sara pulled the shadow inside her cloud and it was ripped and torn by every element until it was gone in just a moment.
Sara concentrated for a moment and reached a human hand out of her cloud of chaos, and picked up her book bag. She formed an arm and shoulder to put the bag on, then a head and some feet and finally squeezed the last bit of her cloud into the shape of a green jacket. "Was she wearing a blue jacket before or a green one?" she asked herself. "I guess it doesn't really matter." she answered, and changed the jacket to blue.
***************************
Sara, Chris and Tyler walked up the stairs out of the basement, leaving Mary and the dungeon master still sitting at the table. The dungeon master was shuffling some papers, his mind racing with ideas for the next session. Mary stared at him, arms crossed and after a moment she finally spoke. "That was mean, Brian."
Brian looked up from his papers. "What?" he asked defensively with a worried look on his face.
"The primordial we met tonight in the game. That wasn't cool." She mocked an imitation of Brian: "It just lives outside in the chaos. Its sooooo ugly and scary." She crossed her arms again and stared daggers at him. Brian was silent and just looked down at his lap.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought we were supposed to act like we didn't know..."
"You know she's not going to keep playing with us if you keep being an asshole, right?"
Brian frowned and was quiet.
"Don't you like her playing with us?" Mary continued. "She's a way better rogue than Johnathan was. If she leaves and Johnathan finds out we have room at the table then we might have to let him join the party again. Is that what you want?"
Brian shuddered. "No. I do like her playing with us. She is a pretty awesome rogue." They sat in silence for a minute. "I'll make it better next week. I have some ideas."
"Good." Mary stood up and walked to the stairs. "We'd better not be fighting a changeling or a dragon next week." she said with a laugh.
The outside air was cool and crisp; the twilight had faded already and the streetlights were on. Chris and Tyler had left already; their mom always picked them up. Sara lived at the end of the street. Mary looked down the street toward Sara's house and near the other end of the street she saw Sara, almost home. Mary shivered as she watched as a shadow approached Sara. Mary then watched as Sara discorporated into a chaotic mass of lightning arcs and flame over a roiling mass of rocks and water. In another moment she had absorbed the shadow and it was gone. Those shadows gave her the creeps and she was glad another one was gone. Mary's parents had told her many times how they were lucky to have the Smiths living on their street. "Good girl." Mary whispered as she watched Sara pick up her book bag and put on her human disguise for the rest of her walk home. Mary walked back into the house.
***************************
Sara reached the end of the street, hopped up the porch stair to her front door and walked inside, locking the door behind her. Inside, her mother and father were lounging on the sofa watching a reality TV show together. Her dad waved a friendly tendril of water at her and turned his attention back to the show. Sara's mom floated up and across the room, her pattern of fire and stone indicated concern.
"Is everything okay honey?"
"Well" Sara started slowly. "In tonight's game we finally met a primordial, but the party just killed it. The dungeon master thought it looked scary." Sara dismissed her human disguise, released a small puff of smoke and slouched a bit. "Are they ever going to accept us for who we are?"
Sara's mom wrapped her in a hug. "Your friends do like you dear. It doesn't matter that you don't look like they do."
"Yeah, I guess you're right mom. Thanks." She brightened up a bit, her waves of water crashing in a happy whirlpool. She started up the stairs to her room but halfway up she turned around and said "Oh yeah, I got another shadow on the way home." Her mom, who had already returned to the sofa, crashed a tiny avalanche of stone in approval and then returned to watching the show.

I have a login screen sheet which is presented as soon as app is opened on top of main view, I want the app to remember that user has logged in once and no need to show login screen each time
here are the project files, please go through homeView and help as I am beginner in SwiftUI

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

My pool guy tells me my pool is chemical locked & needs to be drained & resurfaced. Initially he suggested using pool epoxy & said it'd last 6-9 years. When I said I wanted to move forward with the epoxy, he that's. then said I need to save my money to replaster. With replastering, I need a $2900 pool filter & $1200 pump. He had me spend $700 on the filter two years ago & $200 to "recondition" the pump. Is my pool guy gaslighting me? Why have me spend $3000 two years ago to redo again?

I get my pool delivered this week and want to start setting it up. It is an Intex Prism Frame .rectangular 16' X 8' X 42". Comes with ladder, cover, pump, and ground cloth. I already have my ground leveled and weed barrier put in place (probably get rock landscape soon in future). Also have a saltwater pump on order too. Anyways, really new to pools. Some people say ground cloth is all you need, and then some people say to get a foam mat like a gorilla pad on top of ground cloth. Just looking for any insight that will educate me and help me setup pool. And then of course chemicals is whole other ballgame.

Time: 19:30 UTC Wednesday, May 22nd
Player Count: 0-2 more (Akuma pre-selected)
Duration: 1-3 hours?
Picks: ~18-24 hours prior
Communication: Discord and Roll20
Threat Level: Low
Location: Bellevue, Seattle
Theme: Investigation and Gang Skirmish
Style: Mirror shades
GM Style Sheet: Here you go!
Connecting to ShadowHaven BBS... Welcome to ShadowHaven.
“There have been people trespassing upon my territory and peddling tainted goods. I seek shadowrunners to stem the flow for the moment, so that my people are free to prepare a more thorough retort.”

• Yoshinaga-gumi

Please Respond with:

• Your character's role, wiki page, and some general summary + anything you think is relevant
• An answer to the IC Prompt and/or the Run Post
• Don't post top 3 dice pools.

IC Prompts:

• "How do you feel about drugs?"

Note: This is a normal, non-matrix run, so feel free to app anybody.

Hi,
Curious if there is a way to get rid of frogs in a pool. Big ass frogs. I have a waterfall and some stonework / landscaping on one side of the pool. Somewhere in that area, they can get in and out. I never find dead frogs, just happy, massive, frogs, living their best life.
My chemicals are good. I only use a pool guy to open and close. He told me that the pool is the frog's pool, not mine.
I guess I can share... but is there any way to get rid of these little suckers?
Kevin

I am at my wit's end trying to figure out how to get Foundry to work for me again. I have never had an issue loading in until recently (the previous two sessions - a week apart). All of a sudden, I get a black-ish gray-ish load-in screen that typically lasts from 5-15 minutes until it half-way loads in to 98/99% on the maps and stays gray - though does pop up the chat feature and I can click through and press buttons on my character sheet. This usually lasts 5-10 minutes before it will finally load in fully, and if in combat, the combat tracker is lagged until the start of the next round.
I have researched and tried the following tasks with nothing working:

• Restarted the computer (several times)
• Cleared cache on browser.
• Shut down everything except Foundry and Discord (even tried with Discord exited as well).
• Tried other browsers (chrome, edge, firefox)
• Untoggled, restarted, retoggled the hardware acceleration button.
• Lowered settings in Foundry itself when able to finally log in.
• Updated my graphics driver.
• Tried incognito mode.

I'm seriously at a loss and so frustrated. Nothing new had been added to the world or my computer (or taken away) in the past two weeks since it has been happening. No one else has this issue. I have a decent computer and good/strong internet (most of the time - today was good) . I do not know what to do and would appreciate any and all help.
Thank you so much!

Ok so I set my DB connection to this. I am trying to switch from SQLite to MSSQL, the SQLite code works, but after setting it up, I can't connect or make any POST query.

Microsoft.Data.SqlClient.SqlException (0x80131904): A network-related or instanc e-specific error occurred while establishing a connection to SQL Server. The ser ver was not found or was not accessible. Verify that the instance name is correc t and that SQL Server is configured to allow remote connections. (provider: Name d Pipes Provider, error: 40 - Could not open a connection to SQL Server) - System.ComponentModel.Win32Exception (53): The network path was not found. at Microsoft.Data.ProviderBase.DbConnectionPool.TryGetConnection(DbConnection owningObject, UInt32 waitForMultipleObjectsTimeout, Boolean allowCreate, Boolea n onlyOneCheckConnection, DbConnectionOptions userOptions, DbConnectionInternal& connection) at Microsoft.Data.ProviderBase.DbConnectionPool.TryGetConnection(DbConnection owningObject, TaskCompletionSource`1 retry, DbConnectionOptions userOptions, Db ConnectionInternal& connection) at Microsoft.Data.ProviderBase.DbConnectionFactory.TryGetConnection(DbConnect ion owningConnection, TaskCompletionSource`1 retry, DbConnectionOptions userOpti ons, DbConnectionInternal oldConnection, DbConnectionInternal& connection) at Microsoft.Data.ProviderBase.DbConnectionInternal.TryOpenConnectionInternal (DbConnection outerConnection, DbConnectionFactory connectionFactory, TaskComple tionSource`1 retry, DbConnectionOptions userOptions) at Microsoft.Data.ProviderBase.DbConnectionClosed.TryOpenConnection(DbConnect ion outerConnection, DbConnectionFactory connectionFactory, TaskCompletionSource `1 retry, DbConnectionOptions userOptions) at Microsoft.Data.SqlClient.SqlConnection.TryOpen(TaskCompletionSource`1 retr y, SqlConnectionOverrides overrides) at Microsoft.Data.SqlClient.SqlConnection.InternalOpenAsync(CancellationToken cancellationToken) --- End of stack trace from previous location --- at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Storage.RelationalConnection.OpenInternalAsy nc(Boolean errorsExpected, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Storage.RelationalConnection.OpenInternalAsy nc(Boolean errorsExpected, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Storage.RelationalConnection.OpenAsync(Cance llationToken cancellationToken, Boolean errorsExpected) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Storage.RelationalConnection.BeginTransactio nAsync(IsolationLevel isolationLevel, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Storage.RelationalConnection.BeginTransactio nAsync(CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Update.Internal.BatchExecutor.ExecuteAsync(I Enumerable`1 commandBatches, IRelationalConnection connection, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Update.Internal.BatchExecutor.ExecuteAsync(I Enumerable`1 commandBatches, IRelationalConnection connection, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.Update.Internal.BatchExecutor.ExecuteAsync(I Enumerable`1 commandBatches, IRelationalConnection connection, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.ChangeTracking.Internal.StateManager.SaveCha ngesAsync(IList`1 entriesToSave, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.ChangeTracking.Internal.StateManager.SaveCha ngesAsync(StateManager stateManager, Boolean acceptAllChangesOnSuccess, Cancella tionToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.SqlServer.Storage.Internal.SqlServerExecutio nStrategy.ExecuteAsync[TState,TResult](TState state, Func`4 operation, Func`4 ve rifySucceeded, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.DbContext.SaveChangesAsync(Boolean acceptAll ChangesOnSuccess, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at Microsoft.EntityFrameworkCore.DbContext.SaveChangesAsync(Boolean acceptAll ChangesOnSuccess, CancellationToken cancellationToken) at ArrivalRepository.AddArrivalAsync(Arrival arrival) in C:\Users\dongm\Deskt op\new projects\csharp test\harbour\Repository\ArrivalRepository.cs:line 27 at harbour.Controllers.ArrivalController.CreateArrival(Arrival arrival) in C: \Users\dongm\Desktop\new projects\csharp test\harbour\Controllers\ArrivalControl ler.cs:line 38 at lambda_method7(Closure , Object ) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ActionMethodExecutor.AwaitableObje ctResultExecutor.Execute(IActionResultTypeMapper mapper, ObjectMethodExecutor ex ecutor, Object controller, Object[] arguments) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ControllerActionInvoker.g__Awaited12_0(ControllerActionInvoker invoker, ValueTask`1 acti onResultValueTask) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ControllerActionInvoker.g__Awaited10_0(ControllerActionInvoker invoker, Task lastTas k, State next, Scope scope, Object state, Boolean isCompleted) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ControllerActionInvoker.Rethrow(Ac tionExecutedContextSealed context) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ControllerActionInvoker.Next(State & next, Scope& scope, Object& state, Boolean& isCompleted) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ControllerActionInvoker.InvokeInne rFilterAsync() --- End of stack trace from previous location --- at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ResourceInvoker.g__Awaited20_0(ResourceInvoker invoker, Task lastTask, State next, Sco pe scope, Object state, Boolean isCompleted) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ResourceInvoker.g__Aw aited17_0(ResourceInvoker invoker, Task task, IDisposable scope) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Mvc.Infrastructure.ResourceInvoker.g__Aw aited17_0(ResourceInvoker invoker, Task task, IDisposable scope) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Routing.EndpointMiddleware.g__AwaitRequestTas k6_0(Endpoint endpoint, Task requestTask, ILogger logger) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Authorization.AuthorizationMiddleware.Invoke(HttpCont ext context) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Authentication.AuthenticationMiddleware.Invoke(HttpCo ntext context) at Microsoft.AspNetCore.Diagnostics.DeveloperExceptionPageMiddleware.Invoke(H ttpContext context) ClientConnectionId:00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000 Error Number:53,State:0,Class:20 "DefaultConnection": "Data source=LAPTOP-TASD1111\\MSSQLSERVER01;initial catalog=TestDatabase;Trusted_Connection=True;TrustServerCertificate=True" 

These are my connection and error log.

I've put a good few hours into this game and I still feel like I've barely improved any on understanding how things are working. The following are a few bulletin points of points that I'd like greater clarification on.

• Rebels of a puppet you're attempting to annex , you win the war but the rebels break off to form a new nation, despite the fact you literally held both the rebel province and the original.
• Constant subject rebellions , becomes rather disruptive / annoying , preventing diplomatic plays as you have to go stomp out a rebellion that consists of a single disgruntled grandad.
• Naval invasions, seriously; is this just an issue with the game in the current state? When I have a Flotilla of 60 ships and I'm having my invasion stop because the same 5 ship flotilla keeps popping up with each ship having a crew of 5 people , it gets to be a bit clownish. You should be able to "force" a landing attempt if you have overwhelming numbers of ships.
  • Another issue : why are my naval invasions pausing because they psychically know that a flotilla is coming from literally the other side of the world, they seem to wait literal weeks or months to do with the above 5 boats.
  • Another issue x2 : Naval invasions seem to just .... pause ? at points , Naval units are unoccupied , the army assigned has relatively high morale and manpower and organization and yet they'll sit there for weeks before launching the invasion, if ever.
• Armies , is it better to have 1-2 (high rank) officers assigned with "Adamant Defense" / "Pillage" / "Heavy Barrage" , or is it better to just fill up all 4 slots? It seems like if you have multiple officers, whoever is the left most takes priority? E.G. I had an adamant defense and a pillage officer, but the army more or less never attacked, even on fronts where they had rather strong numerical advantage.
  • Armies 2 : Is there a "meta" strategy for handling big nations? I tend to just do adamant defense for a while, let them burn MP and then mop up the rest.
  • Armies 3 : Is there a such thing as an ideal army comp? I tend to just do 50/50 Infantry/Arty or 60-80/40-20% of both
  • Navy : Does the rank of the Admiral matter / does it let them bring more boats into a single engagement , and should I have three admirals, one for Intercept/Raid/Escort?
• Great Powers : Is liberating countries the best way to kneecap the great powers? E.G. Ukraine & Kazan from Russia , I've been liberating but it feels like it's a bit of a double edged sword as some of the countries released can be powerful in their own right and can go against you later.
• Italy : Why the fuck can it annex my Piedmont / Tuscany / Lucca / Modena etc. puppets without even a notification, with the above great power question , Italy just keeps reforming itself, it's incredibly infuriating.
• Conquering : Is it better to actually gain land, or better to puppet them and have them depend on your customs union and pay you a tithe? (Ignoring Infamy costs)
  • On this note , is it better in terms of less infamy to outright take land, or to puppet then annex, I know that annexing puppet's lands costs less infamy, but does the initial puppet cost combined with lowering autonomy etc. make the cost greater in terms of overall infamy generated?
• Economy : It's either nuanced, or I'm dumb or both. I spend a lot of my early game building a couple of construction sectors, Logging camps & Iron Mines , Gold mines if they're there and largely ignoring everything under the agriculture tab and letting the investment pool build farms in the assumption that it'll build things that I'm short on (grain, tobacco, cloth, etc.) ; the only exceptions to this are usually in the case of something like Afghanistan where opium goes brrt. Mid/Late game I tend to build a bunch of Govt. Admin for Bureaucracy for the institutions, and just a bunch of factories : Glass, Paper, Steel etc.
  • GDP Growth and spontaneous dips without any seeming cause , is this normal, am I doing something wrong? This is particularly worrisome to me when I try to play bigger nations : France/Germany/Russia/GB where I can be growing at a fairly steady rate then I just hemmorhage 10-20% GDP in a short fashion, bonus points if I applied a building upgrade that said it'd make money. (no supply shortages)
  • Upgrades to buildings : Seriously, this one confuses me extensively and I can single-handedly cause GB's entirely 200m GDP economy to tank to 80m in a few simple clicks because I decided to tell certain industries to use a steam donkey or sumt.
    • Tall or Wide for industry for EOS , should I just make a few super industrialized counties and just let immigration within the country handle it, or should I spread it out a bit?
    • Should I ever use rail transportation , it seems to have more cons than pros, sure it means less employees needed but in almost every case I've seen, it's not worth it monetarily and population tends to not be much of an issue. (Minus stuff like small nations without conquering or places like the sahara)
    • Refrigeration for fishing/whaling , Livestock ranches in general , anything better than harvesting tools for farms,
  • Trade : Tips in general , importing seems to cost you money even if it says otherwise, and exporting feels rather disconnected.
  • Shipyards : Rather annoying gripe as once you upgrade to Steamers from Clippers you might still need them , leastwise this is true in case you have junior customs members.
  • Arms / Artillery industry : Subsidize during peacetime or just let them sit there empty until war kicks off again? Micromanaging trade for these things considering how short most of the AI wars last, it becomes more tedious than anything.
  • Urban Centers : Do these things just suck? They seem to always be losing money and services even if taxed don't seem to really ever make these things require more than market stalls , let alone any lighting upgrade.
  • Fishing / Whaling : Does this just suck in general? I've barely ever seen these things turn a profit.
  • Treaty ports (Qing) : Do these just let you bypass embargoes?
• Colonies : Are they actually worth it? I like doing it just because it let's me paint the map, and Niger (Delta) can actually be rather useful from my experience as that region has a rather large amount of population and seems fairly easy to integrate into your country.
  • A lot of the small pacific islands under the oceania region feel utterly worthless, they're all very small, low population, have no real interesting resources and all need a port that'll just act as a money sink as the islands will never get enough population to staff them or make it a profitable venture.
  • Colonial administration pros/cons? They don't seem particularly good in general.
• Education : Does literacy matter much? It seems like if you have even a 50% ish rate, qualifications aren't very hard to get filled, secondly how many universities are too many? Should you bother making numerous in high pop states, just a few in say your capital for the innovation bonus (which seems to get capped off rather quickly?)
• Tech : Is it better to research all of a previous row's techs or does it not matter, I read somewhere that if you research a previous row fully, you get a bonus but I haven't seen anything to corroborate that.
• Assimilation / Conversion : How , aside from promoting national values decree?

I have ordered many clothing items from different sellers on Poshmark, all listed as like new and perfect condition. I would say 90% of the items arrive with an extremely strong chemical perfumy smell. I'm not talking about a mild smell, this is so obnoxious, it smells up the entire house instantly.
I have heard this is likely due to certain detergents, fabric softeners and dryer sheets that some sellers use. While reading up on these type of products it seems that many of them are also highly toxic. I understand sellers wanting to clean items prior to listing, but I don't know why anyone would use these stinky toxic products that seem impossible to remove. Seems to me once these products are used, the smells are baked in.
I've tried baking soda, vinegar, unscented oxy type cleaners, washing over and over and setting items on my deck for a week in the wind and sun. So far nothing has worked! Even worse if I wash the items with other clothes, it will make those clothes stink too! Dry cleaning just added another chemical smell to the existing chemical smell.
So far I haven't requested to return any items but I feel like I've wasted a lot of hard-earned money on some pricey items that are unwearable. I can't even hang them in my closet due to the smell.
If anyone knows ANYTHING that will remove these chemical smells, PLEASE let me know! Thanks :)

Please, please avoid at all cost! I worked there for a few months and this is what happens behind the scenes:
Management refused to properly train me or give me credentials to log into company software to monitor entry access etc... I literally worked a 6 hr shift without verifying anybody. (The member "scanners" are theatre... Management didn't even train the person hired after me how to read the access control software)...
Management allowed homeless people to sleep / camp out / have loud phone conversations in the Hydro Massage (Black Card) area. They also wouldn't give us (employees) proper authority or training to prevent literally anyone from just walking in (especially at night)... we had reports of homeless men walking into the woman's bathroom... Now they allow homeless people to sleep in the Men's bathroom (check recent Google reviews)... and worst they don't give proper training to employees to have authority to reject these people! Management is literally friends with these homeless men!
Management would intentionally hide proper cleaning chemicals needed to really clean and sterilize the bathrooms. Because we apparently "used to much and too quick". Management actually told me to clean / mob and horribly disgusting and sticky bathroom with only hot water...
The worst: the bathrooms... while I was there I actually took care and scrubbed, and sanitized the toilets and it was OK but the whole locker room stank. I brought this up with Management and they said "use the febreeze."...Then one day, again without any direction or training from Management, I powerwashed the showers... what looked like years of grit, funk, grime and God knows what else finally came loose... it took nearly 4 hours of near constant blasting from a power washer to make it somewhat presentable. I tried powerwash the drains and years of hair and who knows what else came spewing out. It literally looked like black mold. This was the week I quit, I can guarantee you those showers haven't been powerwashed or even lightly scrubbed since then (months at this point...)
Now I prefaced this by saying I used to work there, I quit because of these issues being ignored... it is unhealthy and unsafe.
I made an anonymous tip to health department.
Throwaway account due to possible retaliation.

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

Job Details
Postcard Bakery is looking for an experienced Head Barista to join the opening team and help manager daily operations.
This position is a hybrid with two shifts working as a Head Barista and ideally 1-2 additional shifts as a Barista. Shifts vary from as early as 7am to as late as 9pm.
POSITION SUMMARY The Head Barista is responsible for overseeing daily bakery operations including guest interactions, order taking, product quality, cash handling, ordering product, and Department of Health Standards. This position is specifically scheduled to open or close the bakery each day.
RESPONSIBILITIES Welcome and acknowledge all guests, upon entering our space Find ways to express omotenashi to guests and fellow team members Handle any guest complaints or issues in real time Process comps or voids needed during service Take orders from guests, ensuring 100% accuracy when ringing them into the POS Process guest payments accurately and in a timely manner Make all beverages to spec Interact with guests in a friendly, positive manner; making them feel welcome and assisting them with any needs Bus and reset tables as needed Maintain cleanliness of the bakery behind the counter and in guest areas throughout the shift by sweeping, cleaning windows and doors, arranging chairs, etc. Follow all DOH protocol set by management, practicing FIFO, labeling all product, using proper sanitizer, and food safety practices Complete DOH checklist daily and correct any issues in real time Complete opening and closing side work checklist for shift daily Set up and restock all stations as needed during and after service Accurately report cash and credit card tips and contribute to tip pool as applicable Reconcile all cash transactions Run closing POS report daily Complete daily shift log Update knowledge and skills by participating in further required training Complete other duties as assigned by Management
ESSENTIAL FUNCTIONS Able to speak, understand, read and write in English Able to comprehend and follow written and verbal direction Able to understand basic math Able to work independently or as part of a team Able to lift at least 30 pounds on a regular basis Able to bend, stoop, stand and perform extensive walking for 8-10 hours a day Adaptable in fast-paced and challenging work environment Organized approach to projects Able to take and give direction Able to approach their work with a sense of ownership and work with a sense of urgency Able to work nights, weekends and holidays and variable schedule, per the needs of the business Able to perform essential job functions under pressure, maintain professionalism when working under stress Maintain polished personal presentation; grooming meets Company standards as outlined by Employee Handbook Strict adherence to posted schedule and clock in/out at times Communicate information effectively and efficiently Maintain general knowledge of the restaurant, location, transportation, management team, etc. Maintain sanitation to Department of Health standards; Keeps work area clean and organized Inform Manager on Duty immediately of any DOH or OSHA/workplace safety violations
REQUIREMENTS Exceptional interpersonal skills and a passion for connecting with others Prior Barista experience or similar entry-level role in a bakery or cafe preferred Understanding of hygiene and food safety rules Multi-tasking abilities Ability to remain calm and professional in a fast-paced work environment
The company is an Equal Opportunity Employer, drug-free workplace, and complies with ADA regulations as applicable. Compensation Details
Compensation: Hourly ($20.00 - $25.00)
Benefits & Perks: Health Insurance, Dental Insurance, Vision Insurance, Paid Time Off, Commuter Benefits, Dining Discounts
Required Skills
Customer Service Skills
Cash Handling
Order Taking
Knowledge of Department of Health standards
Ability to Speak, Understand, Read and Write in English
Basic Math Skills
Ability to work independently or as part of a team
Physical Ability to Lift at Least 30 Pounds, Bend, Stoop, Stand, and Walk for 8 10 Hours a Day
Adaptability in a Fast Paced Work Environment
Organizational Skills
Ability to Take and Give Direction
Ownership Mentality and Sense of Urgency
Availability to Work Nights, Weekends, Holidays, and Variable Schedules
Ability to Work Under Pressure
Maintain Professionalism Under Stress
Maintain Polished Personal Presentation
Communication Skills
Knowledge of Hygiene and Food Safety Rules
Multi tasking abilities
Apply here
Via needabarista.com

hi, i am still new to Proxmox and am trying to attach a 250 gig drive that i created. its listed under hardware, but it is orange. when i go into the VM and go to disk management, it doesnt show up so i can bring it online and assign a drive letter, here is a copy and paste of the data in the log as it ran the task.
()Task viewer: VM 101 - Configure[Output]()[Status]()[Stop]()[Download]()update VM 101: -sata1 local-lvm:250 WARNING: You have not turned on protection against thin pools running out of space. WARNING: Set activation/thin_pool_autoextend_threshold below 100 to trigger automatic extension of thin pools before they get full. Logical volume "vm-101-disk-2" created. WARNING: Sum of all thin volume sizes (352.00 GiB) exceeds the size of thin pool pve/data and the amount of free space in volume group (16.00 GiB). sata1: successfully created disk 'local-lvm:vm-101-disk-2,size=250G' TASK OK
I know the thin pool wont run out of space. where do i go to set these. also it says that all volumes the thin pool size, but its a 512 gig drive. there is only 3 vms, one with the default 32 gig drive, one with a 40 gig drive and one with a 30 gig drive, so how can i have exceeded the total thin pool size when there are only only 102 gigs of drives between the 3 vm's.when i created the 250 gig drive, it even said there was 352 gigs available in the drive pool.