Hey PubTips! Just want to say an upfront thanks to everyone who posts and comments on this subreddit - I've learned so much already!
I'm hoping to submit to a competition in which the prize is feedback from an agent. The competition is being run by Spread The Word and Frog Literary, and you can find it here if you're interested in applying too! (https://www.spreadtheword.org.uk/submissions-call-out-applications-are-open-to-lgbtqia-writers-for-1-2-1-feedback-from-frog-literary-agency/)
In the submission guidelines they ask for a cover letter, and I initially took this as more of a standard cover letter but after feedback from an author friend, they suggested they might be looking for a traditional query. My autistic brain struggles with reading between the lines sometimes, so I emailed them to clarify and the standard query is what they're after.
Just for context, my manuscript isn't completely finished but there's nothing in the guidelines to suggest it needs to be finished to apply. If anyone has any feedback or insight they could offer me, I'd be super grateful! Thank you :)
Dear [Agent],
As you represent [LGBT+ romance author], I believe you would be interested in my LGBT+ contemporary romance, QUESTIONING, which will be complete at 80,000 words. It merges the exploration of a newly discovered sexuality as seen in Kate Davies’ In At The Deep End with the wholesome, diverse found-family cast of Casey McQuiston’s One Last Stop.
Lucy is happy to spend the rest of her life in Harrison’s shadow, but she isn’t content to be confined to their kitchen only making meals for him and his fancy friends. She wants to be a real chef. When she gently brings up the idea of culinary school with Harrison, his temper flares and he kicks her out of their shared flat.
Heartbroken and temporarily homeless, she knows that Harrison will eventually calm down like every other time he’s broken up with her. She reconnects with an old friend who gives her a place to stay and introduces her to Manchester’s thriving queer scene. There she meets Aaliyah, the eccentric artist whose confident and flirty nature stirs feelings in Lucy that are much more than friendship. She has to decide whether to stick with the straight-and-narrow life she’s envisioned for herself since she was sixteen, or take a chance on this side of herself that she didn’t even know existed before now.
As a disabled, bisexual woman living in a society where productivity and heteronormativity are the key metrics of success, I’ve always sought out ways to escape. This has inspired me to create narratives that others can escape into, where queer characters all get their happy endings. Queer joy deserves to be given more space within the literary canon and I want to be part of that.
After taking an online writing course and meeting women from similar backgrounds to me, I realised that being an author might be an achievable dream. In the years since I finished that course, I’ve watched hundreds of YouTube videos, listened to hours of podcasts and read any craft book I’ve been able to get my hands on. I also received a mentorship opportunity with the editor Nicky Lovick, who suggested Frog Literary as a good match for my book.
First 300
The smoke alarm cuts through the quiet of the flat like an air raid siren, interrupting my final rehearsal of the speech I’ve been planning for weeks. I rush across the living room, grabbing a tea towel from the neatly folded pile and frantically wave it under the screaming white box. The noise continues to pierce through me, my short arms useless in the face of the high ceilings. I pull a stack of my cookbooks from the counter and lay them on the floor.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter, stepping onto Marco Pierre White’s face with my bare feet.
With the beeping finally silenced, I have to contend with the source of the smoke. A trickle of grey leaks from the top of the oven, and I send a silent prayer to the universe that my bread is salvageable. I need tonight to go well.
Pulling down the silver handle, a thick cloud billows out from inside, fogging up my glasses and filling the space with the scent of scorched sourdough. I haphazardly wrap the tea towel around my hands and grab the searing hot tin from the oven, the thin material barely enough to keep my hands from suffering the same fate as my poor bread with its charcoal-coloured crust.
I throw the whole thing into the sink, tears pricking at the edges of my eyes, though that could just be from the smoke that’s hanging around the kitchen like I’m in Victorian London rather than 21st Century Manchester. Harrison will be pissed off if he comes back to a smog infested flat, so there’s no time to cry over burned bread. Instead, I crack open the windows to the maximum amount possible on the 27th floor without being a suicide risk and head out to buy a replacement loaf.
When I get home, the flat is back to normal, the neat surfaces and sterile black furniture all looking exactly as it should. I close the window, hoping that heat from the rest of the cooking will ward away the March chill that has seeped in.

I played a couple Greasus campaigns closer to release and they were tough but the units felt powerful. Flanking with leadbelchers tore up lines and crushers had devastating charges.
I tried playing a VH campaign yesterday and it was rough. Campaign went well enough until Tamurkhan declared war and then I had to pull 3 armies just to deal with his one stack. I tried everything I had access to.
Leadbelchers don’t seem to do enough damage anymore. At one point I had 6 units all firing into Tamurkhan and it took over a minute to bring him down below 50%. Flanking just doesn’t kill units fast enough for the ogre lines to survive anything.
Crushers are maybe bugged? Had one stack stop like they hit a brick wall by a fresh recruit exalted hero and then get chunked like they were fighting skarbrand.
Ironguts get shredded and barely do any damage.
For 2 turn recruit units they all feel extremely mediocre. I don’t remember it being like this before. Wtf happened?

Links

1. Today's Podcast
2. Ander Louis translation of War & Peace
3. Medium Article by Denton

Discussion Prompts via seven-of-9

1. In this chapter the focus is laid upon Pelageya’s reaction of the mummers instead of the reaction of the children. What do you think of this decision? Would you like to have seen the focus laid upon the children’s reactions or do you like it this way?
2. After Nikolai goes outside he sees laying on his path some stacked firewood which casts shadows of bare old lindens intertwining. The path leads to the barn which gleams as if cut from some precious stone. Do you think Tolstoy added this for any particular reason?
3. After reading the last line of the chapter, do you think they want to keep it a secret that they were outside together? And if so, why?

Final line of today's chapter:

... They ran to the barn and then back again, re-entering, he by the front and she by the back porch.

background: rising junior at an average t200 state school, non target
I was thankfully able to secure a SDE internship with a f100 company this summer, and I was wondering how recruiters would view a candidate like me during the next hiring cycle as opposed to others who may go to a way better school. I ask because I personally know a lot of people in my grade that go to a "target" school but unfortunately weren't able to secure an internship because of the market conditions.
The company I am interning at is definitely a non-tech company, but the tech stack that I'll be working with is pretty in-line with what's being used in the industry today.
edit: additional information

Im new to total war. Decided to get into it with the warhammer 3 game.
I have played a campaign with almost every single one and something has become extremely clear: I have no idea what I am doing. I have tried watching Zerkovich for some help and got a little out of it. I know the basics of building provinces atleast.
But I have no idea how to make a good army. The only battle difficulty I survive at is easy and then its near to no challenge but then on normal difficulty I drop absolutely dead at.
I also really struggle with battles in general, I have nearly no idea what to do. My only real understanding is missiles do damage and are far more powerful when they are concentrated and close. Hammer and anvil is powerful. Melee infantry hold the line. This leads to me playing in the very skaven way of fighting battles I simply know I will absolutely win and fighting a full stack against 6 units for any experience at all.
I also struggle with the levelling of heroes and lords. I just dont know what to do first.
Any tips or advice for someone like me would be heavily appreciated. Even if its playing a different total war as I heard Shogun is a good one.

This usually happens but I usually get past it by using my manual save option but this time all my autosaves and manual saves crashes when I try to load it in. I have made the stupid mistake of making one manual save of this world even tho I knew this happens. It might have to do this is a cracked version of the game I downloaded but I would like to try get my world back since I have around 130 hours in it :')
Crash Dump Text 0.000 2024-05-19 15:05:14; Factorio 1.1.101 (build 62011, win64, steam)
0.000 Operating system: Windows 10 (build 19045)
0.000 Initializing Steam API.
0.001 Program arguments: "D:\Desktop\GAMES\factorio\Factorio.v1.1.101\Factorio.v1.1.101\Factorio.v1.1.101\bin\x64\factorio.exe"
0.001 Config path: C:/Users/TyleAppData/Roaming/Factorio/config/config.ini
0.001 Read data path: D:/Desktop/GAMES/factorio/Factorio.v1.1.101/Factorio.v1.1.101/Factorio.v1.1.101/data
0.001 Write data path: C:/Users/TyleAppData/Roaming/Factorio [180355/475708MB]
0.001 Binaries path: D:/Desktop/GAMES/factorio/Factorio.v1.1.101/Factorio.v1.1.101/Factorio.v1.1.101/bin
0.008 System info: [CPU: AMD Ryzen 5 3600 6-Core Processor, 12 cores, RAM: 5757/16332 MB, page: 6886/17356 MB, virtual: 4256/134217727 MB, extended virtual: 0 MB]
0.050 Memory info:
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0.313 [Direct3D11] Display: 0, Output: 0, DisplayAdapter: 0, RenderingAdapter: 0; d3dcompiler_47.dll
0.586 Initialised Direct3D[0]: NVIDIA GeForce GTX 1660; id: 10de-2184; driver: nvldumdx.dll 31.0.15.5244
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0.586 [Local Video Memory] Budget: 5198MB, CurrentUsage: 23MB, Reservation: 0/2727MB
0.586 [Non-Local Vid.Mem.] Budget: 7501MB, CurrentUsage: 16MB, Reservation: 0/3878MB
0.586 Tiled resources: Tier 2
0.586 Unified Memory Architecture: No
0.586 BGR 565 Supported: Yes
0.586 MaximumFrameLatency: 3, GPUThreadPriority: 0
0.587 Graphics settings preset: very-high
0.587 Dedicated video memory size 5966 MB
0.639 Desktop composition is active.
0.639 Graphics options: [Graphics quality: high] [Video memory usage: all] [DXT: high-quality] [Color: 32bit]
0.639 [Max threads (load/render): 32/8] [Max texture size: 0] [Tex.Stream.: 0] [Rotation quality: normal] [Other: STDCWT] [B:0,C:0,S:100]
0.667 [Audio] Backend:SDL(default); Driver:wasapi, Device:Headset Earphone (HyperX Virtual Surround Sound), Depth:16, Channels:2, Frequency:44100
0.755 Loading mod core 0.0.0 (data.lua)
0.808 Loading mod base 1.1.101 (data.lua)
1.016 Loading mod base 1.1.101 (data-updates.lua)
1.135 Checksum for core: 905122912
1.135 Checksum of base: 1054619811
1.309 Prototype list checksum: 3034860339
1.362 Loading sounds...
1.502 Info PlayerData.cpp:78: Local player-data.json unavailable
1.502 Info PlayerData.cpp:81: Cloud player-data.json available, timestamp 1716116146
1.631 Initial atlas bitmap size is 16384
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1.680 Created atlas bitmap 2048x240 [icon-background, not-compressed, mipmap, linear-minification, linear-magnification, linear-mip-level, ]
1.685 Texture processor created (2048). GPU accelerated compression Supported: yes, Enabled: yes/yes. Test passed. YCoCgDXT PSNR: 35.83, BC3 PSNR: 33.82
2.280 Parallel Sprite Loader initialized (threads: 11)
8.983 Sprites loaded
9.017 Generated mipmaps (4) for atlas [3] of size 16384x5568
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9.250 Factorio initialised
9.270 Steam Storage Quota: 1233/1234
95.816 Loading map C:\Users\brian\AppData\Roaming\Factorio\saves\new.zip: 24943725 bytes.
95.861 Loading level.dat: 66668074 bytes.
95.865 Info Scenario.cpp:204: Map version 1.1.101-1
Factorio crashed. Generating symbolized stacktrace, please wait ...
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B275D22C)
00007FF6B275D22C (factorio): (filename not available): luaL_openlibs
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B203DC51)
00007FF6B203DC51 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B203DD57)
00007FF6B203DD57 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B203E3D2)
00007FF6B203E3D2 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B203E361)
00007FF6B203E361 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B188B847)
00007FF6B188B847 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B1D07710)
00007FF6B1D07710 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B1D06278)
00007FF6B1D06278 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B1E2F842)
00007FF6B1E2F842 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B1E2AABC)
00007FF6B1E2AABC (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B24229A0)
00007FF6B24229A0 (factorio): (filename not available): lua_gethook
ERROR: SymGetSymFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B1466DB9)
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B1466DB9)
00007FF6B1466DB9 (factorio): (filename not available): (function-name not available)
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FF6B2859178)
00007FF6B2859178 (factorio): (filename not available): luaL_openlibs
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FFE23337344)
00007FFE23337344 (KERNEL32): (filename not available): BaseThreadInitThunk
ERROR: SymGetLineFromAddr64, GetLastError: 487 (Address: 00007FFE253426B1)
00007FFE253426B1 (ntdll): (filename not available): RtlUserThreadStart
Stack trace logging done
96.239 Error FluidManager.cpp:474: connectionRecord.otherConnectionIndex < targetFluidBox->connections.size() was not true
96.239 Error CrashHandler.cpp:641: Received 22
Logger::writeStacktrace skipped.
96.285 Info CrashHandler.cpp:315: Executable CRC: 2602457318
96.285 Error Util.cpp:100: Unexpected error occurred. If you're running the latest version of the game you can help us solve the problem by posting the contents of the log file on the Factorio forums.
Please also include the save file(s), any mods you may be using, and any steps you know of to reproduce the crash.
98.037 Uploading log file
98.064 Error CrashHandler.cpp:266: Heap validation: success.
98.064 Creating crash dump.
98.200 CrashDump success

🚀👀 Hold the Line, Apes! FFIE’s Low-Key Stock Pile! 💎🙌 READ
So, here’s the scoop on FFIE: we’ve got big-time institutions playing a sly game by keeping the stock price in the gutter. They’re not just chilling there—they’re planning to stack up loads of shares while the price is dirt cheap. Why? Because they know something we don’t, or they’re betting big on future gains.
Now, think about the short squeeze as just the opening act. These savvy players want us regular Joes to lose patience and sell off, clearing the way for them to dominate the share registry. As we throw in the towel and the stock looks weak, these institutions load up quietly, building a massive position at basement prices.
When the good news finally hits—maybe it’s production kicking off or a killer new partnership—FFIE could skyrocket. That’s when the institutions that have been hoarding shares make a killing, as their massive stockpile becomes worth a fortune almost overnight. They planned this from the start, betting that we wouldn’t hold the line. But if we stick together, hold tight, and ride out the storm, we might just catch the wave right along with them. So, fellow apes, the question is: got diamond hands? Because this isn’t just a squeeze; it’s a full-blown battle for control, and we’re right in the thick of it! 💎🙌🚀
let’s take a deeper dive into the jungle of dark pool trading and see what’s brewing with FFIE. So, you’re noticing that there’s a ton of volume going down in the dark pools, right? This is where the big suits like to play away from the public eye. Here’s the lowdown on why this suggests the big institutional holders are actually bullish on FFIE and are sneakily loading up.

1. Dark Pool Action: Dark pools are where the big players execute massive trades without moving the market too much. When we see heavy action here, it’s a sign that someone big is either dumping or scooping up shares in secret. For FFIE, a lot of this activity being buying action suggests that the big boys are accumulating shares. 2. Why the Stealth Mode?: They’re doing it on the DL (down low) because they don’t want us—yes, the regular investing public—to catch on and drive up the price before they’ve filled their boots. By keeping it quiet, they get to buy massive amounts of stock at low prices without sparking a buying frenzy that shoots the price up. 3. Bullish Signs: If these institutional giants are loading up on FFIE in the dark pools, it’s a pretty strong signal that they see a bright future ahead for the company. They’re betting big money that the stock is going to pop off soon, and they want to be fully loaded when it does. 4. Cheap Prices, Big Stakes: By accumulating at these low prices, institutions are setting themselves up to profit big time if and when the stock price takes off. They’re playing the long game, betting that whatever is keeping FFIE undervalued right now won’t last forever. 

Alright, apes, here’s the grand finale on FFIE’s dark pool saga—it’s not just about a short squeeze; we’re looking at something legendary brewing beneath the surface. The massive volumes of dark pool trading suggest that the big institutional players are not just dabbling but going all in on FFIE, and they’re doing it while the prices are in the basement.
This isn’t your everyday pump-and-dump or a simple squeeze play; it’s a strategic accumulation by those with deep pockets and even deeper intel, signaling a bullish outlook that’s hard to ignore. They’re betting on FFIE’s future being bright, way brighter than most can see right now, and they’re positioning themselves to reap massive rewards when the true value of these moves comes to light.
For us, the play is clear: recognize the scale and implication of what’s unfolding. This isn’t just about catching a quick spike from a squeeze. Its a lot more than that. It’s about understanding that there’s a potential overhaul in the stock’s valuation on the horizon, driven by those who move markets. We’re witnessing what could be a seismic shift in FFIE’s market standing, and if we stick together, hold our positions, and stay alert, we could ride this wave to unprecedented gains beyond what would’ve been possible with just a short squeeze alone. This is truly a special opportunity.
apes, just a quick heads up: everything we’re chatting about here is just for kicks and info. This is my personal opinion. This isn’t professional investment advice. Markets are wild, so do your own research, consult with real experts if you need to, and always trade responsibly. We’re here to share ideas and get pumped, but remember, investing is serious business and comes with risks. Stay savvy, stay safe. 📈📉🙌💎

🚀👀 Hold the Line, Apes! FFIE’s Low-Key Stock Pile! 💎🙌 READ So, here’s the scoop on FFIE: we’ve got big-time institutions playing a sly game by keeping the stock price in the gutter. They’re not just chilling there—they’re planning to stack up loads of shares while the price is dirt cheap. Why? Because they know something we don’t, or they’re betting big on future gains.
Now, think about the short squeeze as just the opening act. These savvy players want us regular Joes to lose patience and sell off, clearing the way for them to dominate the share registry. As we throw in the towel and the stock looks weak, these institutions load up quietly, building a massive position at basement prices.
When the good news finally hits—maybe it’s production kicking off or a killer new partnership—FFIE could skyrocket. That’s when the institutions that have been hoarding shares make a killing, as their massive stockpile becomes worth a fortune almost overnight. They planned this from the start, betting that we wouldn’t hold the line. But if we stick together, hold tight, and ride out the storm, we might just catch the wave right along with them. So, fellow apes, the question is: got diamond hands? Because this isn’t just a squeeze; it’s a full-blown battle for control, and we’re right in the thick of it! 💎🙌🚀
let’s take a deeper dive into the jungle of dark pool trading and see what’s brewing with FFIE. So, you’re noticing that there’s a ton of volume going down in the dark pools, right? This is where the big suits like to play away from the public eye. Here’s the lowdown on why this suggests the big institutional holders are actually bullish on FFIE and are sneakily loading up.

1. Dark Pool Action: Dark pools are where the big players execute massive trades without moving the market too much. When we see heavy action here, it’s a sign that someone big is either dumping or scooping up shares in secret. For FFIE, a lot of this activity being buying action suggests that the big boys are accumulating shares.
2. Why the Stealth Mode?: They’re doing it on the DL (down low) because they don’t want us—yes, the regular investing public—to catch on and drive up the price before they’ve filled their boots. By keeping it quiet, they get to buy massive amounts of stock at low prices without sparking a buying frenzy that shoots the price up.
3. Bullish Signs: If these institutional giants are loading up on FFIE in the dark pools, it’s a pretty strong signal that they see a bright future ahead for the company. They’re betting big money that the stock is going to pop off soon, and they want to be fully loaded when it does.
4. Cheap Prices, Big Stakes: By accumulating at these low prices, institutions are setting themselves up to profit big time if and when the stock price takes off. They’re playing the long game, betting that whatever is keeping FFIE undervalued right now won’t last forever. Alright, apes, here’s the grand finale on FFIE’s dark pool saga—it’s not just about a short squeeze; we’re looking at something legendary brewing beneath the surface. The massive volumes of dark pool trading suggest that the big institutional players are not just dabbling but going all in on FFIE, and they’re doing it while the prices are in the basement.

This isn’t your everyday pump-and-dump or a simple squeeze play; it’s a strategic accumulation by those with deep pockets and even deeper intel, signaling a bullish outlook that’s hard to ignore. They’re betting on FFIE’s future being bright, way brighter than most can see right now, and they’re positioning themselves to reap massive rewards when the true value of these moves comes to light.
For us, the play is clear: recognize the scale and implication of what’s unfolding. This isn’t just about catching a quick spike from a squeeze. Its a lot more than that. It’s about understanding that there’s a potential overhaul in the stock’s valuation on the horizon, driven by those who move markets. We’re witnessing what could be a seismic shift in FFIE’s market standing, and if we stick together, hold our positions, and stay alert, we could ride this wave to unprecedented gains beyond what would’ve been possible with just a short squeeze alone. This is truly a special opportunity.
apes, just a quick heads up: everything we’re chatting about here is just for kicks and info. This is my personal opinion. This isn’t professional investment advice. Markets are wild, so do your own research, consult with real experts if you need to, and always trade responsibly. We’re here to share ideas and get pumped, but remember, investing is serious business and comes with risks. Stay savvy, stay safe. 📈📉🙌💎

Record temperatures, record migration, record emissions, record displacement, record PFAS……start building an ark.
Last Week in Collapse: May 12-18, 2024
This is Last Week in Collapse, a weekly newsletter compiling some of the most important, timely, useful, soul-crushing, ironic, stunning, exhausting, or otherwise must-see/can’t-look-away moments in Collapse.
This is the 125th newsletter! You can find the May 5-11 edition here if you missed it last week. You can also receive these posts (with images) every Sunday in your email inbox with Substack.
——————————
Flash flooding in northern Afghanistan killed 300+ people and destroyed 1,000+ homes. Hundreds of thousands of others have been affected. Last month, similar floods in the region killed 70+. Four died in Texas storms last week as well.
Venezuela is suffering from record wildfires, which so far this year have burned about 5M acres—almost the size of Sardinia. Some experts think indigenous people started the blaze as an attempt at forest clearance, which quickly got out of hand. “Institutional failures” compounded the disaster when the ailing government responded with an inadequate number of poorly equipped firefighters. Another study from last week examined the impact of wildfires on soil health.
Flooding and “cold lava” killed 50+ in Indonesia, injuring dozens and displacing several thousand. Cold lava is a mixture of water and rocks tumbling down the side of a volcano. Meanwhile, an actual volcano erupted in Indonesia, sending smoke & ash 5000m high; further eruptions are possible soon.
The Swiss Re Institute published a 37-page report last week about natural disasters in 2023—and how much damage, in USD, they caused. The largest catastrophe was the February 7.8 earthquake in Türkiye & Syria, which killed 59,000+ people and caused $163B+ in damage. The report is full of interesting graphics & data about natural disasters.

“Last year, economic losses from natural catastrophes reached USD 280 billion, meaning that 62% of the global losses were uninsured….the insured losses surpassed USD 100 billion for the fourth consecutive year….annual insured losses will grow by 5–7% over the long term…today’s insured losses could double in 10 years….There were 142 insured-loss inducing catastrophes in 2023, a new record. Most were of medium severity, which we define as events resulting in losses of USD 1–5 billion….Over the last 30 years, we estimate that natural catastrophe insured losses have grown by 3 percentage points more annually than the global economy (in inflation adjusted terms)...”

Flooding and heat waves are impacting Brazil’s oranges, responsible for about 70% of the world’s supply. One food analysts declared that the “era of cheap food is over”—in the UK, at least. That may be one reason why UK residents took record food bank packages last year. Madagascar is struggling to adapt to a future with far less rainfall.
France is growing more concerned about a dam on Lake Geneva, controlled exclusively by Switzerland. The Rhône River, which begins in Switzerland and flows south through France, is shrinking in summers as climate change melts Switzerland’s remaining glaciers.
The Tonlé San River has been dammed in Vietnam, lowering the level in Cambodia and sometimes drying the river downstream entirely. Meanwhile, China’s lychee harvest is getting blasted by rain, impacting the world’s largest source of lychee. And, once again, Saudi Arabia is suffering flooding in its inland regions. 7 dead in historic flooding in Iran.
The eminent climate scientist James Hansen posted that, since “human-made aerosols and their cooling effect are in decline,” the cooling effect of La Niña will be counterbalanced by these rising temperatures. He also identifies a “large anomaly of increased absorbed solar radiation at midlatitudes in the Northern Hemisphere” responsible for rising temperatures there. CO2 levels are rising faster today than they have at any point in the previous 50,000 years…and a study of millennia-old trees determined last summer was the hottest worldwide in 2,000+ years…
Record nighttime May temperatures were tied in the Philippines and Vietnam. A couple Indonesian cities broke records for May temperatures. And a number of southern African states saw more records drop. And Toronto saw a record tied for the number of days reaching 14 °C (57 °F). A heat wave has returned to Bangladesh. Flooding in Cali (pop: 2.9M), Colombia.
The University of Washington was ordered to stop a geoengineering project that scientists sere conducting from the deck of a decommissioned aircraft carrier. The experiment ejected aerosolized saltwater in an attempt to reflect solar radiation. A comparative study in Nature Communications of a number of carbon pricing found that, yes, carbon pricing does work to reduce the total CO2 emitted.
It’s that time of the year again. Wildfires in Canada grow, some of which are moving towards the tar sands—forcing thousands to evacuate. 39 of the total nation’s blazes are “out of control,” resulting in air quality alerts in the United States. Meanwhile, across the Caribbean, water shortages have become the new normal, and residents (and tourists) are finding their old consumption habits hard to change. St. Lucia has declared a water emergency. In Myanmar, water shortages worsen, particularly as related to the spiraling conflict.
At least ⅛ of Europeans live in a place at risk of extreme flooding—so says a 175-page report from the European Environment Agency posted on Wednesday. The number of people living in flood-risk coastal areas in the EU & UK is expected to jump 24% by 2050. The graphics-packed report also considers how flooding will impact healthcare facilities, mental health, wastewater treatment plants, the spread of disease, cyanobacteria, permafrost thaw, and much else.

“Europe has seen devastating floods following record rainfall, droughts of magnitudes not experienced in hundreds of years, continuing sea level rise, and increasing lake and sea temperatures….permanent water stress already affects 30% of people in southern Europe….since 2018, more than half of Europe has been impacted by extreme drought conditions….Climate change is expected to increase mercury bioaccumulation in the marine food chain due to rising ocean temperatures, ocean acidification and permafrost thawing….Depression, anxiety and PTSD may persist for years after a flooding event….Under the changing climate, northern Europe is becoming wetter in general, but drier in summer. Southern Europe is becoming drier, especially in winter. For central-eastern and western Europe, the trend is less clear…” -selections from the report

Milan suffered flooding last week, the worst May flooding in 170 years. Early spring in the UK has disrupted migratory bird species and their usual patterns.
A 74-page working paper which is not yet peer-reviewed claims that earlier estimates for how much GDP would be impacted by another 1 °C temperature rise is way less than it would be in actuality. The paper claims the real cost (in USD) is about 6x greater. They claim “global temperature has much more pronounced impacts on economic activity than local temperature” and that extreme weather is mostly behind the projected decline in productivity.
——————————
Epidemiologists are worried about how climate change in Africa may extend the life of disease-bearers like ticks and mosquitoes. Other epidemiologists are worried about how cattle may become a permanent reservoir for H5N1. Growing traced of bird flu have been found in wastewater testing in the U.S., but investigators think it may be runoff from infected dairy farms.
Obesity, high blood sugar, and high blood pressure rates today globally are 50% higher than in 2000—though researchers claim that air pollution still poses a larger threat. Of a study participants in Hawai’i, 75% had respiratory issues, probably from the Maui wildfires last year.
The 2024 World Migration Report is out, and its 384 pages are not as apocalyptic as one might think. However, internally displaced people are at their all-time highest. India, Mexico, Russia, China, and Syria lead the world in emigrants; another document contains the definitions for who exactly constitutes a migrant. Unfortunately much of the data relied upon ends in 2022. Data from this year, not included in the above report, indicates a 40% jump in traffic through the Darien Gap compared to the same time period in 2023.

“The last two years saw major migration and displacement events that have caused great hardship and trauma, as well as loss of life….There have also been large-scale displacements triggered by climate- and weather-related disasters in many parts of the world in 2022 and 2023, including in Pakistan, the Philippines, China, India, Bangladesh, Brazil and Colombia….disinformation tactics are increasingly being used by nefarious actors with negative impacts on public, political and social media discourse on migration….Forced displacement is the highest on record in the modern era…overconsumption and overproduction linked to unsustainable economic growth, resource depletion and biodiversity collapse, as well as ongoing climate change (including global heating) are continuing to grip the world….the risk of further conflict has not been higher in decades, as military spending reached a new record high of USD 2,240 billion in 2022…” -excerpts from the introduction

Another report, focusing on internal displacement, came out last week; its 69 pages show a cross-section of about 47M people displaced by natural disasters (56%) or armed conflict (44%). Most of the disasters were storms & flooding, and most of the conflicts were civil wars of some form. This report also provides detailed region-by-region analyses—with sub-Saharan Africa accounting for 46% of global IDPs.

“Conflict and violence triggered 13.5 million movements, the highest figure for the past 15 years….Disasters and conflict are presented as different triggers, but their impacts can overlap, often leading to repeated and/ or protracted displacement….Drought triggered 331,000 displacements in Somalia….Floods triggered 550,000 displacements in Ethiopia….Conflict and violence triggered 3.8 million displacements in DRC in 2023, a slight fall from the record four million in 2022, but still the second-highest figure globally after Sudan….nearly two-thirds of the internal displacements recorded in 2023 originated from Khartoum state. More than 39 per cent of the state's inhabitants were forced to flee, leaving entire neighbourhoods empty….Criminal and communal violence triggered nearly three-quarters of Nigeria's 291,000 conflict displacements….” -selections from the spotlight on sub-Saharan Africa

Experts are concerned about the mental health impacts that climate change has on our minds. Hotter temperatures reportedly increase depression & aggression. Wildfires and storms can cause PTSD. Workers feel stress and desperation as their usual industries are impacted. And air pollution influences ordinary brain processes in many ways.
Some analysts believe “Peak China” may be over, signaling a period of economic tapering-off, as well as a growing militancy. Increasing U.S. tariffs on Chinese goods are continuing to separate the two economies. The Netherlands finally formed a provisional government, though its proposed immigration & farming policies have set it at odds with the EU.
The Federal Reserve, the U.S. central bank, released a 46-page report on potential climate risks to the banking system’s resilience. As far as I understood, most of the risk lies in extreme weather events and the risk to insurance agencies.
Part of southeast England experienced an outbreak of Cryptosporidium, a diarrhea & vomiting illness, highly contagious, which can last weeks. At least 22 cases have been reported. Meanwhile, the CDC is issuing warnings about the more dangerous strain of monkeypox circulating in the DRC, although cases are currently limited to Africa.
North Carolina’s Senate voted to ban mask-wearing last week, under the reasoning that it would make police identification of protestors difficult. An fMRI study found lasting neurological changes in COVID survivors; they “had significantly higher cognitive complaints of mental fatigue and cognitive failure….even two years after recovering.” Experts say a summer rise in COVID cases is coming to the United States.
A study on The Canadian/American Great Lakes found that PFAS levels are increasing in the 3 largest lakes (Superior, Huron, and Michigan), while decreasing in the other two (Erie, Ontario). The study also found that precipitation is the primary means by which the Lakes are accumulating PFAS, since the chemicals are small & stable enough to move through the water cycle. Meanwhile, in England’s Lake District, a telecom failure resulted in raw sewage being pumped into England’s largest and most famous lake, Windermere, on-and-off for 10 hours; and a major British water CEO took a $4M USD pay package last year. And a look into the Chicago River’s health found that microplastics & trash are endangering health & biodiversity.
——————————
An assassination attempt by a lone wolf on Slovakia’s PM left him in critical condition, but likely to survive. 11 civilians were slain by cartel fighters in a few battles in Mexico. Violence continues to spiral out of control in Goma, DRC.
In Haiti, everything worsens indefinitely. Guns have reportedly entered from Florida, a phenomenon which officials call an “iron river.” Police have been put on the defensive against the growing might of the gang warlords.
A brawl broke out in Taiwan’s parliament. An Iranian plot was allegedly foiled to smuggle weapons into Jordan to destabilize the pro-U.S. regime.
Dozens more died in Sudan from escalating violence around Darfur. People are warning about “a disaster on top of a disaster” and the possibility of Sudan splitting apart. Others have called it “hell on earth” as 1,000+ refugees cross the Chad border every day. Disease and malnutrition are growing, while famine encroaches upon 9M helpless victims of the conflict—but the world’s attention is elsewhere.
The U.S. Army Engineers completed constructing the pier in Gaza to deliver humanitarian aid. Some 600,000 Gazans have been displaced from Rafah already, and fighting has escalated against Hamas militants in northern Gaza.
Taliban forces skirmished with Pakistani soldiers for about 90 minutes last week. Taliban attacks in Pakistan, and counterattacks have resulted in a kind of ambient disruption for the rocky border zone.
Violent protests—and counteroperations—are continuing in New Caledonia (pop: 270,000), a Pacific island part of overseas France. The riots, which have killed 6 people so far, began after metropolitan France proposed a plan to expand voting rights beyond indigenous residents. A state of emergency has been declared amid worries about a spiral of violence taking hold.
As the Sahel dries out, experts are concerned about the links to rising terrorism in the region. The Sahel accounts for over 40% of global terrorism deaths—according to the analysts’ understanding of “terrorism.” Mali in particular has reportedly become home to 41 new, different non-state armed groups (NSAGs) since 2007. A contested election in Chad resulted in the consolidation of the interim leader’s power.

“If governments are continually unable to solve regional issues, the people will be at the whim of any terror group that has a basic organization. It serves these groups’ interests to promote insecurity where they can and create security where they want. A “hearts and minds” campaign in the Sahel could lead to long-term and locally supported insurgencies in a land that is currently rife with civil strife.” -from the article

Some wargamers concluded that a Trump victory in 2020 would spell the end of NATO, or at least the end of its utility. Vladimir Putin replaced his minister of defense with a top economic advisor, just before going to Beijing to reaffirm their friendship with “no limits.” Some say Putin is planning on a forever war. Some say NATO is gearing up for one, too.
Russia made several gains in the suburbs of Kharkiv, seizing several settlements which some analysts doubt they will hold. Putin claims they aren’t really trying to take Kharkiv anyway… Russia also made small progress in the Donbas—although they suffered their largest one-day casualties since the start of the war. The U.S. allocated another $2B to hasten the delivery of weapons to the front lines. The next weeks will be crucial on the front. Switzerland has invited 160+ nations to send delegates to a peace summit intended to design a path to making peace in this War.
——————————
Select comments/threads from the subreddit last week suggest:
-Brazil’s flooding was really, really bad, judging from this post and its accompanying images. Across just one of Brazil’s 26 states, 600,000+ people have been made homeless, 100+ have died, and the storm season isn’t over yet. Some of the flooding isn’t expected to subside for another month.
-How specifically might climate change make humanity extinct? This thread crowdsources a number of plausible ways, from ordinary famines to nuclear war and even a massive deoxygenation process. I tend to think it will be a consequence of an eventual nuclear exchange, followed by extended famine and disease.
Got any feedback, questions, comments, complaints, upvotes, doom prophets to follow, hugelkultur guides, directions to off-grid bunkers, ark schematics, etc.? Check out the Last Week in Collapse SubStack if you don’t want to check collapse every Sunday, you can receive this newsletter sent to your (or someone else’s) email inbox every weekend. What did I forget this week?

Prologue

Hello and welcome to my post. I will subdivide this into two large parts. One will cover my thoughts, feelings, my hopes and dreams...While the other will tell you the specifics of how I pass the time, what topics interest me, what passions do I posses. I believe that at the end of this leap into my inner world, you dear reader, will have all the necessary information to judge whether we are compatible or not.

Part I
I am writing this in the hopes of finding something that I lack. Lately I have had this feeling, this tinge of melancholy within the dephts of my being, this yearning to find a kindred spirit, another Soul, much like mine, to form a bond with. Perhaps Loneliness is the right word for what is bothering me, but to use it seems to carry with it a connotation of ungratefulness. Ungratefulness for the people that I do have in my life, although none of them, of course, have the connection to me that I seek here.

I have found it increasingly necessary to seek in this Life a sort of purity of thought. What I mean is, I have began to undestand what ideas and concepts are ultimately compatible with my inner most Self, ergo what guidelines I have to follow to feel the most whole. Naturally I have likewise realised what I cannot add to my Self and what I will henceforth reject with all the power that I posses.

With this new context in mind, I now follow on the path of self improvement. I will now begin to mold my Self into my perfected idea of how the Self should be. This is certainly a significant undertaking, one that will not be easy to follow through on but one that I ultimately have to do. To me such context is essential. It is akin to a Guiding Star shining in the night. I will follow this Star for without it I am lost in the vast Darkness.

Looking back at my life, it was suboptimal, especially if one compares the way it molded me to how I will now mold myself. I suppose I must look on with a hint of regret at all that time which one might consider to be lost. Still... I try to stave off such decisively negative interpretations, after all, I have ultimately came to these conclusions. That means that somewhere along the line I had to have picked up on enough of such ideas for them to become so cemented in my consciousness. Well, either that or I was always like this, but in that case I can at least thank my life up to this point for not being able to supress such manifestations of my inner most Self.

To add to the topic of my life, I must admit that not all the battles have yet been won, not all the Demons vanquished, not every Mountain climbed. I want you to keep such things in mind when deciding whether or not to approach me. Many will shy away, I undestand that much, but the pursuit of true Companionship is just another such battle. Having said all that I do believe that being able to overcome hurdles together carries with it a certain appeal. That is to say, what's the fun in joining once the Game is already over?

I don't shy away from such challenges, perhaps to a fault. Certain troubles that I faced in the past carry with them a long shadow over my current health and well being. Still, I intend to change little in this regard other than the proficiency with which I will clash the current of my Will against the cliffs of Life.
Part II
In this part of my post I will tell you about my interests and hobbies, I will try to be thorough, commonality in this regard is rather important to build a relationship
History. I have had an interest in history for almost a decade now, it started back in school and developed from there. Well, now that I think about it one could argue that it started even earlier in my life as I liked watching the odd historic documentary or film aired on television but it wasn't regular back then, I never actively sought it out. I am mostly interested in European history in the period between the 18th-20th century but I sometimes branch out to other time periods and other parts of the world. I watch various channels related to history and read articles and sometimes books. I have recently got a few books on the German revolution of 1848/1849 and a historical magazine on the Thirty Years' War. Besides that I try to visit museums sometimes.
Literature. Especially old novels. I like to immerse myself in the Worlds of these books, I tend to read them while listening to thematically fitting music and take my time with them. One time you are following a troubled Youth in his quest for spiritual understanding of the world, another you see the aged and decrepit Doctor gambling his very Soul on the promises of abtaining satisfaction in earthy pleasures, then again your olfaction notices the most pleasant scent known to man even as the one eminating it has the appearance of a revolting Frog. These and many other stories open up to you once you decide to set foot into the literary World.
Languages. I know three, with one being a bit rusty. I am currently working intently on strengthening it. I believe that if I continue to apply myself in this regard then I should be able to finally conquer it. What language am I working on? Well, if you were to stack all the major works in it they would be as tall as a house... It is fun to go through different works in multiple languages, the same goes for film, games and such.
Games. I recently played Cyberpunk 2077. Well as recently as I played any major story centric game. Now that the dust has settled and the bugs mostly removed...It's not that bad. The main questline at least. Besides that I tried Fallout 76 (Very average, I'm dissapointed with what they made the "RPG" system) and I might give Deus Ex Manking Divided another spin (since it's somewhat similar to Cyberpunk when it comes to its aesthetics). Dark Souls is one of my favorite series, I still haven't beaten Elden Ring though. When it came out I wasn't in the right mindset to invest a hundred hours into it, with all those bosses and difficult locations. I think I'll only consider playing it if I am streaming it to someone. I am generally interested in either streaming games or having the person I am talking to stream them to me. To be specific I mean streaming to a single person while being on call. Besides that I'm a big fan of Paradox strategy games, especially Europa Universalis IV and Heats of Iron IV, I tend to only play single player since I find multiplayer with many people to be rather stressful but on the other hand I have nothing against a co-op game. I'm not the best player though, despite the ammount of hours I have in them. Another great game I would mention would be Dragon's Dogma. A very underrated RPG. I recently beat it again and it was an atmospheric and interesting experience. It is one of those games that feel like they have an endless ammount of depth and constant new secrets to discover.
Anime and Manga. In recent times my interest in them has waned but I still watch the occasional series here and there. Like Cyberpunk Edgerunners (Which I found to be rather mediocre) and the very good first season from the new arc of Bleach. Some of my favourite series include: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Death Note, Fate;Zero, Psycho Pass, Code Geass and Attack on Titan. I wouldn't mind if you were to introduce me to some new series, maybe based on the ones I mentioned. My favourite Manga is Berserk which I still follow, althought I am still not certain on the direction that the new author is taking. I suppose it really is a matter of contention whether a somewhat (or considerably warped) vision is better than an unfinished work. One could argue that a few novels remain unfinished and possess a macabre appeal to them as such.
Music. Classical music has a very special place in my heart. A few of my favourite pieces would be: Clair de Lune, Nocturne Op. 9 No.2, Devil's Trill Sonata, Danse Macabre, Valse Sentimentale, Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92: II. Alegreto (by Beethoven) and Suite from Swan Lake, Op. 20a: I. Scene. Moderato. There are more but these ones always invoke something in me when I listen to them. Besides Classical I also enjoy listening to Synthwave, old Western pop and J-pop, both modern and from the 20th century.
Esotericism. I am interested in things spiritual, mystical, magical and esoteric. I have read religios texts, magical grimoires, introductions to various schools of thought. It is interesting to me.
Epilogue
Hopefully I was able to cast the spotlight upon my inner World in a clear and unequivocal manner. I feel the need to add to the aforementioned that I am rather introverted, which means that I tend to dislike large social gatherings. I managed to condition myself to be able to endure the presense of large groups of people but it isn't something that I would seek out in most cases. Besides that I am neurodivergent and suffer from certain issues with mental health. I have to take medication to keep myself under control. They work well enough but certain days are harder than others. I respect the struggle that others have with mental health but in the context of a relationship I have my limits, no one with BDP for instance. I am also not looking for anything casual. I understand than one cannot demand depth and meaning from a conversation with an absolute stranger, that is akin to trying to build a sand castle right before the waves strike but I ask at least that you enter with a mindset that this might become something of significance. I also do want to say that I am completely Monogamous. My preference? The sickly, pale, intellectual who watches rain droplets slide down the window in Autumn. Lastly, if I enjoy the company of a person I tend to not want to let them go.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post and have a good day. I ask that you send a DM instead of a chat and that you give the English translation of my title as your own.
Goodbye...Or perhaps untill we meet again

Welcome to A1 Ascended, where an adventure awaits...
TLDR: PVE, community based ASA server that wants to progress through all the maps. Chilled back server, a place to grow with 6 or 7 active players.
Are you searching for a place to call home in the world of Ark? Do you long to immerse yourself in the game's captivating story? Whether you're a skilled builder, a seasoned tamer, an intrepid explorer, or simply a beach bob, we're all united here to revel in the game we've devoted so much time to.
Thanks to our dedicated server staff, our servers are meticulously optimized for players with lives beyond Ark. While we've ensured a smooth gaming experience, we've refrained from boosting settings to the point where progression loses its meaning. It's worth noting, we're in this for the long haul – together, we're progressing through the game's story arc. The majority of our player base is 18+, fostering a mature and respectful community.
If you're eager to establish your foothold, delve into creature mutations, unleash your creativity with elaborate builds, and relish in a server where progression is balanced, then you've come to the right place.
Though many of us belong to different tribes, we unite for events such as boss fights, poker nights, thrilling adventures, and trading of breeding lines.
Currently, we A1 host two servers: A1 - The Island and A1 - Scorched Earth, with plans for expansion when new maps are released.
Server Settings:

• 5x Taming
• 2x Experience
• 2x Breeding

Don't hesitate to drop by our Discord server and immerse yourself in our community. Feel free to ask around and get a sense of who we are.
[Discord Link: https://discord.gg/F5auGxk49P

Welcome to A1 Ascended, where an adventure awaits...
TLDR: PVE, community based ASA server that wants to progress through all the maps. Chilled back server, a place to grow with 6 or 7 active players.
Are you searching for a place to call home in the world of Ark? Do you long to immerse yourself in the game's captivating story? Whether you're a skilled builder, a seasoned tamer, an intrepid explorer, or simply a beach bob, we're all united here to revel in the game we've devoted so much time to.
Thanks to our dedicated server staff, our servers are meticulously optimized for players with lives beyond Ark. While we've ensured a smooth gaming experience, we've refrained from boosting settings to the point where progression loses its meaning. It's worth noting, we're in this for the long haul – together, we're progressing through the game's story arc. The majority of our player base is 18+, fostering a mature and respectful community.
If you're eager to establish your foothold, delve into creature mutations, unleash your creativity with elaborate builds, and relish in a server where progression is balanced, then you've come to the right place.
Though many of us belong to different tribes, we unite for events such as boss fights, poker nights, thrilling adventures, and trading of breeding lines.
Currently, we A1 host two servers: A1 - The Island and A1 - Scorched Earth, with plans for expansion when new maps are released.
Server Settings:

• 5x Taming
• 2x Experience
• 2x Breeding

Don't hesitate to drop by our Discord server and immerse yourself in our community. Feel free to ask around and get a sense of who we are.
[Discord Link: https://discord.gg/F5auGxk49P

I slept fine, I didn’t fall asleep so nicely. I don’t know why, I felt perfectly adequate all evening and then bam I cry myself to sleep. I don’t know how or why, and I didn’t even cry over anything in particular it was just any and everything. And I just kept crying and crying, like a baby. I had to switch pillows twice because I drenched it, but I got to sleep on my favourite pillow by the time I was almost asleep thankfully. I can be so picky with pillows, another thing mum tends to call me, even to this day - the princess and the pea. Or rather she likens me to her… I can’t entirely say I disagree tbh. I just like things a particular way, not all things, I can be relaxed about plenty, but there are some things I just to be just so. My pillows when I sleep for example, how the dishwasher top rack is stacked etc. Entirely inconsequential things really. But anyway. I didn’t fall asleep so nicely. I woke up feeling better, still a bit sad but nothing I couldn’t ignore.
It’s now 12:58pm and I’ve done next to nothing. I’ve been watching BT, I’m not writing the name of the show because I feel like that might be search heavy at the moment? So I’ve been watching that, I’m midway through the third episode now and there are four out so far. I’ve also painted some of my lil clay things with primer. And that’s about it. I really need to clean and tidy my room but the idea of it… ugh. I don’t want to :(
I’m loving BT so much. I like the stories and characters and stuff, but I mostly love the sets and costumes. They’re just so luxuriously opulent and uggghhhhhhh I want to just stare it all. Sometimes I wish they would clear out the cast and just give us a tour of the rooms and show all the details of the gowns. But like I learned in therapy, beauty is something I value highly, not in a vain way but in the way I utterly adore beautiful things whether it be a stunningly ornate wallpaper, a sparkly bead encrusted gown or even a leaf that is the perfect shade of green. I just love it all and it brings me so much joy, more than I realised now that I’m conscious of this value of mine. But the BT house itself, particularly the drawing room ommmmgggg. The blue? I think it’s called wedgewood blue from memory, with the creamy/white detailing. And all the light streaming through. It’s so dreamy. And it makes me love my blue and white bedroom more. And the gowns!!!!!!! I wish I could roll around in them, they’re so sparkly and detailed and beyond beautiful. Particularly the ones crusted in beading and with the luxurious silks and satins and velvets and taffetas and organza and all of it. And the colours! It’s all so dreamy. I don’t overly love the style of a lot of the gowns, that sort of empire line, mainly because it only looks good on women with fewer curves and a flatter chest, they can look gorrrrrrrgeous in them. But otherwise if you have any kind of cleavage it looks so weird and bleh. I love Penelope so much, she’s always been a favourite character and she honestly deserves the very best. And Colin definitely got a glow up prior to this season. His brown coat is so delicious. I’m beginning to wonder if I should read the series…? I do love a lil historical romance. Anyway I don’t even Penelope and Colin to end up together, I mean Lord Debling is so lovely and Colin is off sleeping with hookers… like? Then again I know I am wrong in how I think and feel about all of this. I know I have expectations ghat are unfair, I mean maybe not for everyone but if I’m nothing special and therefore not enough then can I criticise. This doesn’t make sense. Anyway. Actually nevermind I just watched the fourth episode and I am very much Team Colin. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!!!!!! But now I have to wait for part two in mid June :(
I’m going to the office tomorrow. I don’t want to. But oh well. I’m going to make a concerted effort to get back in twice a week - I’ve been slack with it and it doesn’t help me become better. Leaving the house more is important, so this shall be one of the ways. I’m also going to get some new sneakers and a walking jacket so I can go for walks more regularly. I’d like to go several times a week, but I’ll work up to that. I love my walks, I love them a lot but I just get filled with every negative emotion when I go for them around my house, to the point I’ll start having tears running down my cheeks or shaky trembly hands - it’s pathetic. I think environment is everything, and purpose. When I walk pups at my parents I don’t feel these things, I’ll be a little anxy but nothing I can’t manage. But here? It’s so hard. It’s so stupid I know. But I love walking, I feel better when I do it regularly, so I shall keep forcing myself to do it until I feel okay about it. I know this is what I have to do, but the way it makes me feel inside… it never feels worth it. To be 20 minutes walk from home and feel on the verge of a panic attack is NOT a good feeling and it only makes my panic worsen. So baby steps. I’ve been considering on and off moving to a different area, I think I would feel more comfortable in other areas, I don’t know why I don’t here but I don’t. But moving elsewhere is no different to running from problems so I will sort it out here.
I broke his little bowl. I didn’t mean to :( I feel kind of upset about it, it’s been two weeks in the making with time to shape, dry, prime and I was doing a final layer of primer pre paint and my stupid finger went through the base. So I guess it would never have been a good present anyway because it broke so easily. But I bought a really pretty coloured paint because I thought he might like it and I just feel upset. I showed him it, idk why, I just messaged him a picture of it now and I already wish I hadn’t. I shouldn’t have even made anything for him in the first place, he’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t care for homemade things - cards, presents, whatever. If he did like them he would comment on them, and he never does, so maybe it’s a good thing this broke. I just like sharing things with him, like when I draw and I like a tree I’ve drawn I want to show him, except I don’t because I’m utterly rubbish at drawing and it makes me look like a five year old. I at least appreciate his honesty, or transparency rather. It means I can understand what he does and doesn’t like. I just think his likes don’t mesh with my like of making homemade cards and presents. It’s not like I only give him that though. Anyway it doesn’t matter, plus it’s probably better for me to not share things like this given I don’t have any skill or natural talent with it. Just because you enjoy something doesn’t make you good at it.
I don’t feel so great this afternoon, mood wise.
I’ve done the absolute bare minimum with my room, and the bar was set very, very low today. I tidied the floor up a bit, I made my bed, did a lazy tidy of my vanity desk thing.. that’s about it. I’ll do more across the week.
I feel.. detached today. This afternoon, rather. I know I love my family, Andy, puppy… etc. I just can’t feel it. I know it’s all in there, but I feel detached and I can’t reach it. This isn’t unusual, I just always try to describe the feeling and always fail. I think knowing I care but not being able to feel myself care sums it up as well as I’ll ever be able to.
I found a little notebook of my early days of therapy, well with this current one, maybe not that early actually but idk. It was just me writing down who I am. The first is “I am a human” because I had to start with the basics. The last line is “I try my best to be friendly” - I think I will continue with this. No one really comments much on me so I will just write it as things feel write. From memory it was also a way to force myself to speak more kindly to myself, ie I am a woman vs I am a monster. And things like I’m generous, I love animals, I am quiet, I try to be patient, I love romance, I appreciate attention to detail, I like to care for others, I am a homebody, I love reading etc. And then scattered amongst it was some honesty, like I can be a control freak, I am quite particular about some things, I am indecisive, I am sensitive etc. And then next to I am a friend I have a question mark. But I want to continue writing these things, I think it’s helpful when I feel lost in myself to be able to read through a list of things I’ve written and be reminded. That sounds so silly to not know who you are sometimes, but sometimes I just feel so unbelievably lost and unmoored from everything, even myself. So I’ll write all the good things, and the bad. I’ll write things that I like, things that I don’t. I’ll write things I want in my life, things I feel like I should want but don’t, things I shouldn’t want but do etc etc etc. It’ll be a little tiny notebook of everything me. I wonder if sometimes it’s possible for me to get any lamer? Unlikely.
I’ve been thinking about stopping journaling here more and more. I get more out of posting it here, it feels like a release, like I’m letting all the thoughts go which is especially helpful with my negative ones, I don’t know.
It’s 5:23pm. I need to wash and blowdry my hair, as it’s still damp in the morning lately. I need to have something for dinner, I guess. I’ve been struggling with eating lately, I feel so ugly and it makes me not want to eat and then that sets off a bad string of things. I’ll have something little, vegemite toast maybe. I need to pack my bag for tomorrow. And that’s it.
I feel better after a shower and chat with Andy, I still feel not good but he perked me up on the outside. He makes me laugh so much :) It’s kind of weird to think I’ll be living long term in Australia, like I’ve always intended on living there - until my mental health and covid messed things up a little for me timeline wise. But to think I’ll maybe say Australian things…? That I’ll say thongs? And I definitely will because I cave quickly, like I was only in the UK two years and I said crisps and trainers and I still do to this day, which I’m actively trying to stop. I wonder what my accent would sound like after like ten years… I really doubt I’d ever lose my accent. It’s funny how I do probably sound a bit different when talking to him versus my mum. I just talk more softly with him, I naturally do anyway to the point I have people comment semi regularly on how soft spoken I am, but idk, I don’t even mean to speak to him a certain way, I just do? And then he hears me talking to mum and I probably sound like I’m wearing Jandals and stubbies while loading up the ute as I prepare for a tramp in the bush. Christ. I do love being from here though, in theory I would rather we live here than Australia, and never say never… but it makes more sense to be there. I don’t really have anyone here other than my parents whereas he has family and friends and his payments and all of it. I don’t really have any ties here. Anyway.
I get to spend time with him tonight :) Night night

Once the grisly hunt had ended, we waited until the hunters were over the hill and gone. As we sat in the Reina del Cielo, we processed everything. Not only were the Pullman-Seldano people here and messing up the place, but were going as far as to commit wanton murder on the wildlife. “Ok, guys,” Calderon said, breaking the tense silence. “I know that was awful to see - and take it from me, I’ve seen some shit across the world, all kinds of shit done to animals - but we’ve got to keep going. What if they come back?” We reluctantly agreed, and off we went, initially silently as we feared there may still be some people in the area. We continued northwest along the Yaku River, and as another hour ticked by, we found ourselves at yet another tributary. This time, the one that connects the Yaku, Utjawi, and Kasike Rivers. “Hold on, we gotta do a quick reorientation along the current here,” Calderon announced as he started to prevent the plane from drifting off down the wrong river. But then, as we started our cross, an explosion shook the water, and we were briefly tossed up into the air, landing back down with a tremendous splash. “What the hell? What was that?”
Then the whole river system started to shake, the water bashing against and spilling onto the shores like an overflowing bathtub. As this happened, over the sound of roaring, agitated water came the sound of stone crumbling. Then, as Calderon tried to maneuver to where the river continued to our northwest, one of the hydrofoils made contact with the shoreline, and we were briefly stuck. Once the hydrofoil was dislodged, then our whole right side began to sink, and we saw that the shoreline was collapsing, sand and silt falling into a large space below. With our left side in the air and the water pushing us, we found ourselves falling downward. We fell surprisingly not far down, only about 15 or 20 feet down. We landed in a pool of brownish water, and as the river water and falling sand and silt above followed us down, we looked around to see just what kind of cavity we fell into. Surprisingly (or perhaps not, at this point), it was manmade.
We had landed in a large tunnel dug into the bedrock. The ‘river’ we landed in seemed to be a stream of dirty runoff following the main path of the tunnel route next to us. The end behind us led on into blackness, and the end in front of us was shut away by a steel gate. 30 feet away sat a large vehicle next to stacks of steel crates. This vehicle resembled a massive bulldozer, with several clawed metal arms tucked on the side, giving it a somewhat insectoid appearance. The main blade was divided into two parts, which resembled enormous metal claws then they did a bulldozer blade. As my eyes wandered around the area, I noticed that the vehicle was restrained by chains, with a small sign nearby reading in big red letters: “OUT OF ORDER.” We reluctantly disembarked the plane to assess the damage, and while it wasn’t severe, it was yet another blow that stopped our progress. We had resigned ourselves to our little inconvenient fate when we heard a snarl above us. Looking up and peering over the edge was the head of a toothy gulper. The aquatic dinosaur clearly took an interest in us, and even though it seemed to be deciding whether or not to follow us down, the river made its choice for it, the water shoving the animal down with us, thankfully next to the plane instead of on top of it.
The enormous animal flopped around upon landing and tried to go for us. Running back inside the safety of the plane, we were shoved into the rock wall to our left, and Calderon and Missy aimed weapons at the creature, but didn’t fire yet. As this happened, the toothy gulper tried to wrap itself around the plane. “What are you waiting for? Fire!” Mary Ann yelled. Missy shook her head. “Not yet, it has to line up.” Mary Ann looked confused, approaching Missy’s station. “Now?” Missy shook her head. The creature was now bearing down on our right wing, its elongated body lining up to around the gate. “Now!” Missy exclaimed, and the electrical guns fired. The toothy gulper was shot backwards, flying back at great speed as it’s enormous body collided with the gate, bringing it down with a loud clash. With this came the sounds of further objects clattering. As the dust cleared, the path ahead was shown to be dimly lit, with a row of weak yellow lights along the ceiling. Shelves collapsed as tools and other objects rolled out into view. One of these was unlike the others: a yellow crystal that caught the light as it rolled out, with bits of stone still stuck to it. Then the appearance of the crystal made sense. Viracochite. This was a mine. And the smoking gun? The label on the vehicle not far away, and logo proudly emblazoned on various tools and other items spilling out? Pullman-Seldano.

Ladies and gentlemen, extraterrestrials, and sentient AI overlords! Gather 'round because Zane Zany is about to take you on a wild ride through the mind-bending, reality-twisting, coffee-spilling world of fractal art! Yes, you heard it right—fractals, those brain-melting, visually addictive patterns that make you question if nature's been watching too much sci-fi. Buckle up, buttercups, because we're diving into the recursive rabbit hole of fractal geometry, where Mother Nature herself is the original nerdy artist.
First, let's talk about fractals. Imagine you’re scrolling through Netflix, and instead of choosing between true crime documentaries and that new reality show where people date while hanging upside down, you stumble upon an endless loop of visually stunning, infinitely complex patterns. These, my friends, are fractals—the artistic equivalent of getting lost in the comment section of a viral TikTok.
Fractals are essentially shapes that repeat themselves on different scales. Think of them as the visual manifestation of your favorite TV show that keeps rebooting itself. One of the most famous fractals is the Mandelbrot set, which looks like a trippy explosion of paisleys on LSD. You zoom in on one part, and bam! There’s another paisley party going on in there. It’s like a never-ending series of Russian nesting dolls, but way more psychedelic.
Now, Mother Nature, being the ultimate overachiever, decided to use fractals to design some of her best work. Ever noticed how a cauliflower looks like a tiny, edible brain? Or how lightning bolts resemble the family tree of Zeus's illegitimate children? That’s fractal geometry in action, folks! Nature has been using fractals to show off her math skills long before humans decided to scribble them on their trapper keepers.
Let’s take a closer look at the wacky world of fractal art, where the line between art and science blurs more than my vision after too much screen time. Imagine digital landscapes that look like Salvador Dalí on a coding binge. Artists like Hal Tenny and Kerry Mitchell create these digital masterpieces that make your eyes pop out like a cartoon character seeing a pie on a windowsill. Their works are a mix of math wizardry and artistic flair, transforming complex equations into visual feasts that make you wonder if you’ve accidentally ingested something illegal.
But wait, there’s more! It’s not just digital; hand-drawn fractal art is a thing too. Picture an artist with the patience of a saint and the determination of someone binge-watching an entire season of "Stranger Things" in one sitting. These artists meticulously draw each tiny, repeating pattern by hand. It's like watching Bob Ross on speed, each "happy little accident" turning into a mesmerizing fractal forest.
One of the coolest things about fractal art is how it mimics the infinite complexity of natural forms. It’s like nature’s way of saying, “I see your doodles, and I raise you a universe.” For instance, the branching patterns of trees, blood vessels, and even the internet’s favorite—snowflakes—are all fractal patterns. These natural fractals are so precise that they make human-made fractal art look like a kindergarten drawing contest.
Now, let's get real for a moment and talk about the science behind these bad boys. Fractals are the product of simple mathematical rules repeated over and over. It’s like taking your favorite GIF and putting it on an infinite loop until your brain melts. This process, known as iteration, is the secret sauce behind those stunning fractal images. And if you think that’s nerdy, just wait until you hear this: fractals are used in everything from computer graphics to diagnosing heart disease. Talk about a glow-up from mere doodles to lifesavers!
Alright, my intergalactic audience, let's sprinkle in some contemporary pop culture because why not? Imagine if Marvel’s Doctor Strange teamed up with Picasso after a bender at a hacker convention. That’s the level of surreal you get with fractal art. Or think about "Rick and Morty" if they decided to explore the infinite realities within a single broccoli floret. Fractals are the multiverse theory of art and science—every zoom reveals another layer of mind-blowing complexity.
And speaking of complexity, let’s not forget about the applications. Fractals aren’t just pretty pictures; they have real-world uses that would make even Tony Stark jealous. For example, in telecommunications, fractal antennas are all the rage. They’re tiny, efficient, and look like they belong in a sci-fi movie. These antennas use fractal patterns to pick up a wide range of frequencies, making your smartphone signals stronger than my desire for a pizza right now.
But fractals aren't just solving tech problems—they're also helping scientists understand natural phenomena. Take the coastlines of continents, for instance. They’re not straight lines but jagged, irregular shapes that resemble, you guessed it, fractals! By studying these patterns, scientists can predict erosion and even help with environmental conservation. It’s like Mother Nature gave us a cheat code to understand her secret plans.
Now, let’s wrap this mind-bending journey with a bow, shall we? Fractal art is the glorious intersection where art and science have a wild, late-night party and invite everyone they know. It’s proof that math isn’t just for nerds—it’s the creative force behind the beauty of the natural world and the digital masterpieces that leave us awestruck. So, next time you’re out in nature or lost in a fractal video loop, remember that you’re witnessing the same principles that make your phone work, keep planes in the air, and help us understand the universe.
So, there you have it, folks! Fractal art: where geometry, nature, and a splash of human creativity come together to blow our minds. It's the ultimate nerdy art form that proves even the most complex mathematical principles can be stunningly beautiful. And remember, whether you’re a digital artist, a nature lover, or just someone who likes trippy patterns, fractals have something to offer. Until next time, keep your eyes peeled for the hidden patterns in life, and don’t forget to tip your server. Zane Zany, signing off!

"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.

I'm curious people's thoughts on this build. Goal being <250g all purpose ripper. I'm still pretty new to the FPV world so wouldn't be surprised if I've missed something. Also open to style/personal preferences, most of my selections came from Bardwell's <250 shopping list and NewBee's website since they're local. I'm still researching prop pitch, I've seen some of these builds using higher pitch props so not sure if the 3.5x2.0 are the best fit.
I'm also a massive tinkerer and data nerd so F7 FCs are kind of calling my name, but that might have to wait for a larger build where I'd have some more freedom to add additional modules.

		Weight	Qty	Price
Frame	AOS 3.5 V5	53	1	55.00
Stack	Speedybee F405 Mini	13.5	1	60.00
Motors	Xnova 1804 3400kv	15.1	4	60.00
Props	Gemfan Hurricane 3520 3	1.7	4	2.70
VTX	Moonlight Kit	38.5	1	189.00
RX	NewBee BeeCeiver ELRS Diversity	1.6	1	19.00
Battery	Tattu R-Line 550mAh 4S	60	1	14.50
		233.8		400.20

I am trying to make a coop with my family but whenever i finish creating my character then pick where i want to spawn, it gives me this error code ( this is in my console log)
ERROR: General , 1716096165230> 0> ExceptionLogger.logException> Exception thrown java.lang.RuntimeException: can't create player at x,y,z=6472,5271,0 because the square is null at IsoWorld.init line:2799.
ERROR: General , 1716096165230> 0> DebugLogStream.printException> Stack trace:
java.lang.RuntimeException: can't create player at x,y,z=6472,5271,0 because the square is null

at zombie.iso.IsoWorld.init(IsoWorld.java:2799) at zombie.gameStates.GameLoadingState$1.runInner(GameLoadingState.java:268) at zombie.gameStates.GameLoadingState$1.run(GameLoadingState.java:225) at java.base/java.lang.Thread.run(Unknown Source) 

I dont know what it could be because my brother can host it just fine with all the mods i have too.