Furniture sale cover letter

Must-Have Tips for Shoppers: Maximizing Your Shopping Experience

2024.05.19 16:07 aK1donn Must-Have Tips for Shoppers: Maximizing Your Shopping Experience

I’ve been honing my shopping skills and thought I'd share some tips to help you get the most out of your shopping experiences. Whether you're shopping online or in-store, these strategies can enhance your experience and ensure you get the best value for your money. Feel free to add your own tips in the comments!

1. Stay Updated on Trends and Deals

2. Utilize Shopping Apps

3. In-Store Shopping Hacks

4. Online Shopping Strategies

5. Leverage Loyalty Programs

6. Shopping for Specific Items

7. Seasonal Sales and Events

8. Sustainable Shopping

Maximizing your shopping experience is all about staying informed, being strategic, and knowing where to look for the best deals and highest quality products. What are your favorite shopping tips and tricks?
Happy shopping! 🛍️
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2024.05.19 16:06 SurviverWarior ChatGPT User Bags 5 Ivys

Demographics
Academics
Standardized Testing
Awards/Honors
Extracurriculars/Activities
Letters of Recommendation
Essay Summaries
Interviews
College Results
Accepted
Waitlisted
Rejected
Reflections:
I'm super grateful and happy with my decisions. I have committed to Princeton, and it definitely is the best fit for me. College results this year were very random, but I couldn’t be more thankful to get into the #1 undergraduate university. I was worried that since most of my application was MIT-related (Research, classes, Letters of Rec, Awards, Activities), other universities would think I was going there and reject me. College results were super random and stressful, but it worked out better than I could have ever imagined. It's funny how I got waitlisted and rejected from all my target schools (Vandy, UMich, USC) but then got into most of my reach schools.
Advice for Future Applicants:
Be authentic. There is no formula that gets you in. Sure, you have to do a couple of things like getting good grades and SAT scores and having some unique activities and awards, but especially for Top 10 schools, you just have to be unique and authentic. I didn't have any connections or background (like private school and college counselor) that provided me with opportunities. I was literally the first kid ever from my school to get into Princeton. I was authentic and hardworking, did stuff I enjoyed, and one thing led to another. I also spent a lot of time on essays and my application. 50% of the work is actually doing stuff, and the other 50% is showcasing it in your college application. Also, have balance in life. I had a lot of fun in high school and enjoyed the stuff I did. Live life with no regrets. Feel free to DM me.
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2024.05.19 16:00 BrodogIsMyName Frontier Fantasy - Chap 39

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Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!
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2024.05.19 15:53 Gazooonga [Diary of a Press-Ganged Saurian] #1

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.
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2024.05.19 15:49 AnonAccessoriesFS [WTS] Price Drop! KAC URX II and Colt SOCOM upper updated description

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NO CHATS! PM ONLY! Claim items by commenting dibs or I’ll take it BEFORE PM
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Once claimed you have two hours to get the transaction going or I’ll move to second in line.
I accept PayPal no comments dammit! F&F. All prices include shipping.
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2024.05.19 15:49 The360MlgNoscoper Would you rather have to clean a typical hotel room covered completely in poop or glitter?

Every surface of the room is covered in a thin layer of either poop or glitter. The furniture too.
It has to be cleaned completely. You'll recieve 10,000$ equivalent in payment, in addition to counseling and medical coverage for any harm you have sufferd if you finish in less than a week. You will recieve protective gear and equipment needed, but you're not allowed to destroy anything.
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2024.05.19 15:49 iescapeddd1 [LONG POST] i feel like there's foreshadowing to a sequel or at least a dlc?? + my thoughts

please share your thoughts!!!!!!!
alright, ive finished the game around a month ago but have spent the past month LIVING off of hl memes and ominis content, so i still remember most of the game vividly.
i think theres foreshadowing to a sequel, here's why:
-anne sees what sebastian has done to solomon, and this deathly sick (!!!) girl runs away to... where, exactly? again we get conflict that hasnt been resolved.
-less glaringly important but we get almost nothing about ominis. in the house cup bit hes just sitting down despondently because hes just lost his only friend and has to go back to his abusive family, who used crucio on him. also, ominis is quite vague about said family. leaves an open space that can be filled in with a sequel, because i would actually give my right eye to learn more about the gaunts ;)
-the MOST obvious plot hole - sebastian, in his usual delusions, seems to convieniently forget our emotional undercroft heart-to-heart about 'ill use ancient magic to save anne', before he goes and harnesses the power of a dark relic that causes only desctruction. (i ADORE seb but ominis is just so much better im sorry ;-; )YES i know theres the whole 'theyll become husks with no emotion if you take away pain', but sebastian hasnt been TOLD that. for all he knows, WE are the answer!! but nooo he must control the inferi because he is a teenage edgelord and nobody understands him. so yet again, unresolved conflict that could be saved for another time!!
-another huge plot thing - i personally went mostly goodie-goodie (except the unforgivables because come on!) in my first playthrough as a slytherin (going as an evil gryffindor next, lol). so this means i left the power of the resevoir alone. BUT! i have seen playthroughs where the resevoir is taken for the players own personal gain. is there any difference?... ...literally no. which is just ??? so maybe in additional gameplay, we could learn to 'hone' whatever new skills this grants us (more sequel-worthy than dlc-worthy, imo.)
-more a dlc thing, but quidditch. need i say more?
my thoughts:
there is enough material here to make a worthy sequel.
not only did hl DESTROY its sales expectations (even with the boycott), its been so popular that it has a subreddit with over 300k people (thats where we are now weee), which is kinda insane for a 'spin-off' game.
they would be stupid NOT to make a sequel or dlc, considering the absolute bank they made from this one + they now know what people want, meaning the next game would be even better.
the plot could be-
-if you didnt, seb is still here. he thanks you for all you've done, blah blah blah, and acknowledges the goblins innocence. hes worried sick for his sister who has ran away and wants to find her. you are dumb and havent learned your lesson (duh), so no matter what you say he'll convince you to help once you've found your feet in sixth year.
-ominis walks into your compartment. he looks terrible. you ask him if he's alright and he slips some gaunt lore about his family and on their.. ideas of fun, because come on i have a mad obsession with this dude, and if im the one writing this plot, we're getting ominis angst, suck it up. if youve handed in sebastian, itll just be you two. there'll be a train cutscene and boom, you're at school.
-this is where it gets tricky.
IF youve handed in sebastian. he'll be in prison. youll probably get some angsty moments and npc quotes along the lines of 'he seemed like such a good kid'.
if you HAVENT handed him in, the story gets weird, because a) more awkward time with seb because hes free and 2) he knows the goblins are mostly good. the actual hl doesn't have this big of a rift, so its hard to say what happens. however, its good because it gives us loads of choice, the lack of which in hl caused a lot of complaints.
-if he's in prison, sebastian escapes,(not azkaban, gotta keep with the canon. maybe because he is a minor he is sent to a lesser facility.) still blaming the goblins and holding such a hatred for them now that in his eyes, they escaped punishment and that it's his job to kill them all while extorting the cure for anne OR finding us to cure her.
-if he's free, we can either have a storyline of him NOT learning his lesson and maybe going to prison then instead of after he commits uncle-cide (dark magic go brr, because sister is gone) or some other storyline that would be more about our magic (!) and ominis' story.
-for the latter to happen, we'd have to have taken the resevoir's power. OR we can make up a rowling-worthy excuse of 'well MC was exposed to the resevoir power for too long so even though they left it alone it still diffused into them or something! [happy]'. i honestly dont know, this is why i want YOUR THOUGHTS!!!
-to make the selection pool shallower, lets go with the excuse. this will allow us to have seb's story, our magic story and also some ominis story (i am obsessed.)
-whether seb escapes or is already free matters, but in the end its the same result - hes not in prison. the only difference is that free seb doesnt hate goblins, and isnt on the run, and vice versa for escapee seb. both want to find anne and cure her. both now remember you have the capacity to do so (but they dont know about the taking-away-pain-turns-them-into-living-husks thing).
-maybe escapee seb finds us, and ropes us into the same 'help-me-find-anne' crap free seb does to us on the train. yes, that means we dont have a choice, but there has to be SOME adventure. the goblin-hatred would def play in somehow - its too specific of a thing to include in the endgame to just leave it be like that! maybe his hatred causes him to do unforgivable things to some innocent goblins and he has a 'mAyBe Im ThE mOnStEr' epiphany moment, who knows. maybe it ties in to something bigger.
-the main story would then be along those lines. im still brainstorming the climax and ending but nobodys gonna read this anyway lmfao
-main quests would consist of lessons, sebastian-is-a-little-too-obsessed-with-anne-quests, and honing our magic.
-side quests would be mainly ominis-centric regarding his family/the gaunts, with a decent lot of poppy and garreth. we've already resolved natty's entire life at this point tbh💀💀💀.
-id like to think there's a happy ending. idk what will happen to escapee sebastian, will he go to prison or not?? this is literally the equivalent of a crackfic in my head, i WAS NOT expecting to write this much when i started writing this.
SO AGAIN GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS. PLEASE. ON EVERYTHING FROM THE PLOT TO MY SEQUEL THEORIES TO FEATURES AND INCONSISTENCIES. THANK YOU!!
nowww some features!:
-romance? idk, not a romance person, this is for you sebastian fangirls to figure out for yourselves
-prejudice. literally what made harry potter, harry potter. there is like ONE audio with a negative view towards muggle-borns, and ONE that uses the word mudblood to my knowledge. everyone's just ok with everyone now? do malfoys and other death-eater's grandaddies not go to school here??? hello??????? this could and SHOULD be a topic for discussion in game or maybe even a side quest or side quest chain.
-extra but when/if seb escapes it should be on the daily prophet that ominis will show us in the undercroft or smth, i dunno
inconsistencies with my plot:
-itll be hard to mash everything in. but a half-assed plot is still a plot <:
-since its a continuation of 5th year, we already know many spells. there arent many useful ones left. HOWEVER!!! we can consult the fandom spell page, take offensive spells and stat boost them more than the 5th year ones >:) ALSO YOU LEARN ABOUT DARK ARTS IN 6TH YEAR, SO. ominis is not gonna have a fun time with those ones 💀
-because we'll be searching for anne, like the actual hl game, less school time, :( sorry
-everyones just ok with us disappearing (if seb is an escapee). someone should pull a hermione and go 'hmm, MC starts disappearing shortly after sebastian escapes, and they never say what they're doing.'
probably ominis or poppy because a) favouritsm on my part and b) ominis knows us best and i headcanon poppy as knowing us well and knowing the dark arts and how theyre used a tad bit more than she gets credit for.
-loads of other things i havent seen, SO

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE THOUGHTS, THIS TOOK ME AN HOUR TO WRITE AND I ONLY WROTE IT TO SEE WHAT PEOPLE THINK! TYSM. (I SHOULDNT HAVE WRITTEN THIS, I HAVE FINAL EXAMS TOMORROW 💀)

youre all amazing yayayayayaya
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2024.05.19 15:48 lightingnations I found my girlfriend’s secret Google account and it feels like our entire relationship was built on a lie

I met Luna on a train two years ago. I’d just escaped from a toxic relationship, so romance was the last thing on my mind, but then she sat across from me in the carriage and asked about the book I was reading. She had a copy in her bag and wanted to know if it was any good.
I'd never felt such an instant, effortless connection with anybody before. I took a chance and asked her to dinner, and by the time the waiters cleared away our desserts, I already felt comfortable being vulnerable around her. So we went on a second date. And a third. And next thing I knew, we were planning our second anniversary.
In all that time she never gave off any 'creeper' vibes. Until a few months ago, when I stayed the night over at her place...
She'd gotten up early to use the bathroom. I grabbed her laptop off the side desk so I could catch up on some work e-mails, and the incognito tab was just sitting there. My first thought was: either she's having an affair or she's got a secret fetish.
What I found instead was a Google account with a photo album called ‘Michael’s EX’. In it, there were 427 photos of my former girlfriend turned psycho stalker, Sadie. This included shots of ‘Sadie the stalker’ with her family, screenshots of her passport—the works. On Facebook, Sadie's latest post said Moving to the Philippines, and since then she’d become a social media church mouse, so how did Luna keep her under surveillance? And how did you even get PERSONAL ID from a person halfway across the globe?
Down the hall, I heard the bathroom door swing open. Quickly I closed the laptop and pretended to be asleep until Luna planted a kiss on my lips. “Wakey wakey Bugs.”
I faked a stretch. “Morning Lola."
(At school, the other kids christened me ‘Bugs’ because of my cartoonishly large front teeth; I called Luna ‘Lola’ because of her blonde bangs and heart-shaped face.)
“How about we grab a fry for breakfast?” Her smile didn’t seem genuine, more like she was wearing a mask.
“Crap. I forgot I’m doing overtime today, I’ve gotta get to work.” With that, I shot out of there faster than a bullet train to Tokyo.
Because I didn’t wanna believe the worst about someone I cared so deeply about, I didn’t contact the police (not that anybody could’ve guessed what Luna was up to) and made excuses whenever she asked to meet, delaying the decision whether to end our relationship.
At night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time a hedge rustled outside, I’d run to the window and pull back the curtain only to discover a black cat skulking around the garden. I put this down to my previous relationship leaving me with a mountain of unresolved PTSD.
Sadie the stalker also seemed normal until we moved in together. After that she started picking fights if she caught me talking to another woman, even just distant relatives or childhood friends. The screaming matches went from weekly to nightly, only ever ending when I conceded to her every wish and gave her full access to my phone and social media accounts. I literally needed to grab my clothes into a bag and run away one night, and then I started hearing noises outside my new apartment. And although I never found any evidence, I was pretty sure she’d broken in at one point because the books on my side table were suddenly out of order one day. What hurt the most was Luna knew all this and still acted the way she did.
Right as I reached my lowest point, my close friend Gertrude called and said, “The universe is telling me you could use a sympathetic ear.”
I told her the universe didn’t know the half of it.
I’d met Gertrude—aka my surrogate mother—on a flight to London. Passing over Wales the aircraft hit heavy turbulence, and the grey-haired hippie in the seat next to mine squeezed my hand so tight that my fingers turned blue. After we levelled off, she apologized and said, “So what’s calling you to London?”
“A job.”
A few glasses of wine from the service trolley later, she blurted out, “You know your aura is strikingly similar to my husbands.”
“Uhh, thanks. Where is he now?”
“Oh, he burned to death in a house fire.”
Gertrude’s eyes started welling up. To take her mind off the subject, I said, “I lied earlier. I’m going to London because I fell in love with a Londoner.” I pulled up pictures of Sadie (back in her pre-stalker days) on my phone. “We met in Italy. She looked flustered trying to read a map book so I offered to help. Next thing I knew, we were planning a trip to this place called Orvieto.”
“Michael, I need to know how this story ends. Gimme your number.”
Since then, we’d met two or three times a year.
I laid the whole mess out over pizza. It was the first time since finding the Google account I didn’t feel hidden eyes crawling all over me.
Just as I wrapped up the story, over in the corner booth, a family burst into a chorus of happy birthday. A waiter appeared carrying a chocolate cake, capped by a giant candle that looked more like a flare. Gertrude tensed up.
“So what do you think about all this?” I asked.
She looked back at me and said, “It’s possible your reaction has been a touch on the dramatic side.”
“DRAMATIC??”
“Well consider things from Luna’s point of view. Your last relationship lasted for, what, three years? Maybe she felt threatened.”
“I don’t believe this.” I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket, but Gertrude snatched it away.
“You know how I feel about you poisoning your lungs, Michael.”
“Don’t you start. I got enough of that crap from Luna.”
Gertrude always encouraged me to work through my romantic problems. Ultimately, I decided her love of fairytale romances clouded her judgement and ghosted Luna instead. But I couldn’t escape her shadow. She always felt close. In fact, it got so bad that at a friend’s costume party several weeks later, my eyes kept compulsively scanning the crowd as if she was there in disguise, ready to pounce.
I stood off to the corner until, over the sea of heads, I spotted a beautiful stranger dressed as Jarlath the Goblin King. I took a shot of liquid courage and made a B-line towards her.
Halfway across the crowded room, beer splashed across the front of my Ziggy Stardust outfit.
“I am so sorry,” a female pirate said, patting me dry.
“Don’t worry about it.” Every time I tried circling her, she moved to cut me off.
“I am such a klutz. Why don’t you come into the kitchen so I can clean up this mess?”
I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her out of the way. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
Approaching Jarlath from behind, heart slamming against my chest, I said, “Well this is awkward. One of us is gonna have to change.”
Jennie had bright blue eyes and dimples impossible to miss. Ten minutes into our debate about David Bowie’s greatest album, I said, “You know Absolute Bowie are playing the Half Moon next week. I could take you?”
“Sorry. I’m going with my boyfriend,” she said with a sympathetic smile. From beside the buffet table, the pirate stared daggers in our direction.
“No worries,” I replied, despite the fact I was brimming with jealousy.
The next day, as I jogged off my hangover, a brown-haired lady cut across my path and we both went spinning to the ground.
“Flip, sorry.” I rushed to pull her up by the hands. “I’m like a bloody zombie lately.”
She did a doubletake. “Ziggy, right?”
There was no mistaking those eyes. “Jarlath?”
“Well, Jarlath or Jennie. Eithers fine.”
“Right. Well, sorry again. Enjoy Absolute Bowie.”
Before I could jog away, she said, “Hey, so that guy I was seeing? Turns out he’s a total prick.”
Jennie and I went for coffee. Coffee morphed into drinks. Drinks morphed into a steamy make-out session on my sofa.
But as she covered my neck in soft kisses, my stomach turned. It felt like cheating. So, I put the brakes on things and said, “I can’t do this. I’m really sorry. You’re amazing, but I just got out of a serious relationship…and…it’s just…”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.”
We agreed we’d let our connection blossom in its own time.
Jennie had a playful mystique to her. Within a handful of dates, we’d developed inside jokes and could tell what the other was thinking. But Luna’s imprint was hard to shake, to the extent I almost mixed up the two ladies’ names multiple times.
To detox, I suggested Jennie and I spend a romantic weekend in the Lake District, because after two days of hiking and kayaking my ex would no doubt be a spec in the rearview mirror.
Hours before we set off, however, Luna’s mom called. She wanted to meet and wouldn’t accept any excuses.
“Look, it’s obvious why I’m here,” she said, sitting across from me in Starbucks. “Ever since you and Luna broke up, she’s been acting…different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“I call but she hardly answers. I go over to her place but she’s never there. Now she’s telling me she needs to find herself. Says she’s moving to Australia.”
Her fingers tightened around her cup. “I need to know what happened between you two. And I don’t care if that paints anybody in a bad light. I’m just worried about my daughter is all.”
I told her about the Google account.
“Did you confront her about it?”
“Hell no. I ghosted that crazy bitc—” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I just…stopped seeing her.”
She started crying so loudly customers at nearby tables paused their conversations. I touched her forearm, promised I’d call if I remembered anything else, then set off for my romantic weekend.
But while Jennie and I enjoyed all that fresh air and pub food, a thought nagged at me. Luna adored London, so why move to Australia? It seemed so out of character. Back at our rented cottage, I was so fixated on the thought I needed a smoke, badly.
“What the hell is that?” Jennie demanded, as she stepped onto the front deck.
I glanced at my hands. “Uhh, a cigarette.”
“Michael! Don’t be sarcastic. You know how I feel about those things.”
“…Do I?”
“Uhh, well it’s the same as anybody else. Quit poisoning your lungs and put that thing out.”
“Alright alright, geeze. Sorry Luna.”
“That’s okay.”
A knot formed in my stomach as she went back inside. I’d called Jennie Luna by mistake. And she hadn’t noticed. In fact, her reaction to me smoking was identical to Luna’s—even the snappy way she said the ‘poison your lungs’ line.
I followed Jennie into the lounge, where she’d curled up on an armchair with a Colleen Hoover novel. She was hiding something. What else did she know about Luna? Maybe I could trick her into revealing some details…
From behind, I started massaging her shoulders. “Sorry for being rude before. I know what you said came from a place of love.”
“That’s okay.”
I waited until her eyes drooped shut, then said, “It really is perfect here, huh? Maybe we should stay forever.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
Her little groans of pleasure, the rhythm of her breathing, it all felt so familiar. I waited until the tension in her neck dissolved, then I pushed my lips against her ear and whispered, “So how about we take this into the bedroom…Lola.”
“Hmm. Sure thing Bugs.”
My hands froze. Jennie jumped up. “Uhh, that felt so good, why’d you stop?”
“What did you just say?”
“What did you just say?”
“I called you Lola,” I replied, my arms frozen in midair. “And you called me bugs.”
“Like the cartoon, right? I thought it’d be a cute nickname. Anyway, I’m tuckered out.” She forced a yawn. “Why don’t we get some sleep?”
As her hand laced with mine, an image of me waking up drugged and gagged and tied to the bedposts flashed before my eyes.
I said, “Sure. I just…need to use the bathroom first.”
The second the door shut behind me, I flew out of the house, climbed in my car, and sped away.
Within seconds my phone started blowing up with calls, followed by texts. Where are you going? Is everything okay?
No, I wanted to reply. I’m onto your sick little game. Whatever it is, I’m onto it.
Luna stalked my stalker, now Jennie somehow knew Luna and I’s nicknames. How? Did all women take turns drawing straws and whoever picked the short one needed to become my girlfriend?
I couldn’t go home. For all I knew, my exes would’ve been there burning effigies of me. I needed a safe place. Somewhere I could lie low until I got all this straightened out.
“Of course you can stay,” Gertrude said over the phone. “I’m out with some friends, but I’ll meet you later. If you hop the side gate there’s a spare key under the kissing gnomes out back.”
Gertrude lived in a detached house in Wembley. It took a bit of foraging to find the gnomes hidden beneath the weeds in the brown, patchy garden.
I needed to shoulder the door open. Inside, a mountain of letters and flyers had piled up on the welcome mat.
Down the hall, a huge archway connected the landing with a lounge, where a bar sat against the far wall, surrounded by upholstered sofas, a low table, and tie dye sheets strung over the filthy carpet. Everything had a real elegant vibe, despite the musty air.
I’d drained two glasses of whiskey before Gertrude arrived.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough evening.”
I said we could talk in the morning.
“Not a chance. You can’t take negative energy to bed. Come on, confession is good for the soul.”
She sat on the sofa and patted the empty seat next to her. So, with a weary sigh, I shared a tale of deranged exes.
“Crazy,” she said.
“I sure can pick ‘em, huh?”
“No, I mean you’re crazy.”
“What?”
“Think about it. What’s more likely: that your ex’s are secretly in collusion, or you’re being paranoid? Look how bloodshot your eyes are. When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?”
She made a great point; teenagers on the street occasionally shouted ‘Bugs’ or ‘Thumper’ at me. Jennie might’ve come up with the nickname herself. I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning.
“Look, sleep here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll brainstorm ways you can make it up to Jennie.”
I fumbled through my pockets for a cigarette.
“Really?” Gertrude said. “If you insist on poisoning your lungs, can you at least do it away from my home?”
“Well if I can’t smoke, I’m gonna need a refill.” I shook my empty glass.
On my way toward the bar, a wave of wooziness hit me. My first instinct was to blame it on the alcohol, but there was something else.
It was her reaction to the cigarette. My finger ran through the thick layer of dust along the bar’s countertop. Why was it like the place had been abandoned? Why did Gertrude always pressure me to stay with my psycho girlfriends? And how come she always reached out, as if on cue, whenever my relationships hit problems? It couldn’t be coincidence…
I poured two glasses of whiskey and carried them to the sofa. “So, you’re really against the whole smoking thing, huh?”
“Of course. It’s a filthy habit.”
“Yeah. Plus, there was that mess with your husband. House fire, right?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Sure, sure.” I ignited the lighter with a roll across my trouser leg.
Gertrude grabbed a cushion and hugged it. “What are you doing?”
“Alright, cut the crap. What the hell’s going on? Have you been sending your friends to date me?”
“What are you talking about?”
I wrestled the cushion from her and held the lighter beneath it. “I want an explanation right now or I’m torching this place.”
This was an empty threat. I wasn’t some pyromaniac—I just wanted answers. Inch by inch, I raised the flame. “Last chance. Why are the women in my life acting weird?”
Gertrude grabbed for the lighter. As I swatted her wrists away, we both got scorched, and for a moment her skin went wild with spasms, a sensation I can only compare to reaching inside a bucket of wet, writhing maggots. My gaze whipped between her face and her hands, which vibrated like plucked guitar strings.
Before I could scream, she yanked me up, clamped a cold, wrinkled palm across my mouth, and forced me against the wall. I thrashed around, unable to move. For a lady old enough to collect a pension, she was crazy strong.
She waited until I ran out of breath, then said, “Michael, please. I’m not going to hurt you. Open your heart and listen.”
What else could I do?
“You were right before. I have been keeping a secret from you. The truth is, I’ve been in love with you since we met. I’d never flown before. And you were so so sweet. You started talking about this other woman, but I knew our energies were perfect for each other. And it’s like I always say, love makes us do crazy things. You can’t begrudge me that can you?”
She looked as if she expected me to respond, so I shook my head.
“But I think we’ve reached a point where our connection is so deep we can be completely transparent with one another.” She took a slow, steady breath. “Michael, all your ex’s, Luna, Sadie, Jennie. They’ve all been…well, me.”
I stared at her, confused.
She sighed. “It’ll be easier if I just show you.”
Out of nowhere her hand wriggled again, then her face tightened, as though the skin was being stretched over the bone. Wrinkles smoothed out and colour bled into her grey hair, turning it brown, and within seconds I found myself face-to-face with Jennie. Even her vintage clothes morphed into a green blouse and white slacks.
“See?” she said in Jennie’s voice, her now blue eyes locked on mine.
I screamed into the soft flesh of her palm.
“Sssh, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Watch.”
Her entire body jerked and twitched, the muscles spasming as she shifted from Jennie to Luna. “See? Think of these as costumes”—from Luna to Sadie—"the important thing is what’s underneath. And you’ve fallen in love with what’s underneath three times. Now I’m going to let go, but I need you to promise you won’t overreact. Understand?”
On the verge of a panic attack, I nodded furiously.
The second she pulled away I made a break for the exit. The thing posing as Sadie grabbed me and hurled me backwards against the wall.
Like a disappointed teacher, she put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been so patient with you, Michael. So very, very patient.”
She blocked off any hope of escape. I sidestepped around the outer edge of the room, towards the bar.
“All those years moulding you. Trying to grow you into the man I know you can be. I really thought we had it this time. For the record, I wanted to do this the easy way. But drastic times...”
I was so scared I slammed right into the cabinet and yelped. Glass bottles chattered together, and then something wet ran down the back of my shirt. It was whiskey, leaking from the overturned bottle onto the carpeted floor.
Speaking more to herself now, Gertrude said, “I’ll just have to keep you here until you love me as much as I love you. Of course, that means posing as you so nobody gets suspicious, but that’s no trouble. I’ll tell your dad you’re moving to Italy. You always loved Italy.”
Pose as me? She'd been killing my ex's and taking their place, I was just the latest in a long line. She’d keep me as a personal sugar baby if I didn’t escape, but how? She was impossibly strong, and the only thing that seemed to scare her was…
Snatching the bottle, I doused the remaining whiskey all over the carpet and furniture. As I flicked the lighter open, Sadie’s hands shot up.
“Bugs…darling…what are you doing?”
I took three slow, steady breaths. “Breaking up with you, you crazy bitch.”
I tossed the lighter forward. Within seconds flames sprung up all around us, spreading as far as the sofa. Sadie’s shoe caught fire, and as she stamped around, unintentionally fanning the blaze, her body writhed again, starting with the ankles. Fat boils climbed up every inch of exposed skin, milky white and with the consistency of frog spawn, like she’d had a killer allergic reaction to poison ivy.
She dropped to her knees, wailing like a wounded animal. This was my chance.
I made a break for the exit, giving the creature as wide a berth as possible. But as I got one foot planted in the hall something clamped tight around my ankles. My chin hit the floor, then I started sliding backwards.
I twisted onto my back. Where Sadie’s left arm should’ve been, a tentacle-like appendage stretched across the length of the room, a distance of over twenty feet. It reeled me toward her like a fish on a line. Whatever that thing was no longer looked human. It melted like an ice statue, with no bones or connective tissue inside, its lips nose and mouth becoming hideously elongated before dripping off in huge globs like melted candlewax. A fire alarm started wailing as the tentacle dragged me through the flames, scorching my arms and legs.
The loose mass of skin reached out and encased me like a mother bird sheltering its eggs.
“WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME?” all my ex’s voices screamed at once. Whichever direction I looked, silhouettes of faces rose and fell, as if trying to burst through. Parts of them dripped inside my mouth, disgustingly warm with a bitter taste worse than Vaseline.
I put everything into clawing my way out if there. What was left of the beast had the consistency of wet clay and came apart just as easily. I tore away chunks until there was a hole large enough to squeeze through. Then, I crawled along surrounded by black smoke.
At the far side of the room I risked a glance back and saw a bumpy, uneven hand reaching out of a puddle of ooze. Soon I was crawling over the bristly welcome mat, then fumbling for the door. All I remember after that are paramedics wrestling me into an ambulance…
A specialist officer came to see me at the hospital the next morning. They’d been unable to contact the homeowner, Gertrude Huyton, and through his line of questioning I could tell they hadn’t found her ‘remains’ inside the charred house. Like the wicked witch of the West, my stalker had melted. I told the officer she said I could stay the night, and that I probably started the fire by dropping a cigarette.
“In that case, we’ll keep trying to reach her.” He walked to the curtain surronding my bed and paused. “Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, her cat is missing.”
“Her...cat?”
“Yeah. The little black one. One of the firemen pulled it out of the wreckage. The poor thing had burns over its legs but it ran off before anybody could take it to the vet.”
I swallowed a gulp and thanked him for telling me.
And now I’m still sitting here listening while nurses rush back and forth, terrified any one of them might be Gertrude…
submitted by lightingnations to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:38 CantThnkofUsername00 Hydropool or Endless?

I'm wondering if anyone who compared these two brands could share what they ended up doing. I'm likely looking at the 14AX Trainer (it isn't much more than the Sport) vs. the Endless X500. I'm far from a high level swimmer, and the E500 seems like it would not be worth the premium to me.
I looked at Master Spa, but frankly the dealer did not give me a great impression. Seemed very "used car sales" there. Plus while they say they offer service in my area, my house is a good 2 hours from their show room. The Hydropool and Endless dealers are closer and have decent reviews. I do not see a lot of third-party spa maintenance/repair businesses in my area despite it being a major metro area. The one that came up in my searches is apparently now part of the Hydropool dealer's business.
The Hydropool dealer also sells TidalFit, but it seems like those are a step down. I can go checkout a Bullfrog, I like the idea of the "seat packs", but haven't read much about their swimming jets.
When I read about the Endless, it seems most are talking about the E500, which I don't doubt has a top notch swimming experience. There seems to be less on the X500 which is probably more akin to the Hydropool's swimming system.
I do like that the Hydropool has 4 hydrotherapy seats, but realistically it is jut going to be 2 in there 95% of the time. I like the hydrotherapy jet layout better on the E500 vs the X500, but again, probably not worth the extra price.
FWIW, I am planning build a covered deck around the spa. My understanding is that both of these should be "repairable" for 20 years or so. I don't expect it to run like a Swiss watch for 20 years, but as long as I can repair it, I'm happy. Otherwise I'd need to do some deck surgery to get a new one in there later on.
I've also been told the End to End rolling cover is as good as anything, so I'm going to get one of those for ease of use/storage when in use.
Anyway, appreciate any thoughts people have before I drop the coin on one of these.
submitted by CantThnkofUsername00 to swimspa [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:38 evrydayzawrkday [WTS] BCM BFH 14.5 Complete w/ BCG & Radian Raptor LT CH, Vortex Viper PST II + Unity FAST LPVO Mount

Timestamp
ITEMS FOR SALE
BCM (Bravo Company) BFH 14.5 Complete w/ BCG & CH - $600 USD shipped
What's Included
This does NOT include a muzzle device.
Vortex Viper PST Gen II 1-6x24 VMR-2 MRAD + Vortex SV-5 Throw Lever + Unity FAST LPVO Mount - $650 USD shipped
What's Included
  • Vortex Viper PST Gen II 1-6x24 SFP VMR-2 MRAD LPVO. This is spray painted, so like the upper you will either need to strip it or paint over, or keep it. Fully functional clearly as shown in the picture with super clear glass.
  • Vortex SV-5 Throw Lever, as sprayed.
  • Unity FAST LPVO that is NOT spray painted. 30mm rings as the Vortex Viper PST II is 30mm.
SALES TERMS
  • FCFS (first come, first serve). If you dibs it is for the price listed, and if you dibs I will hold an item for up to 15-20 minutes. If you do not pay within that time, I will move onto the next. I will be accepting PayPal Friends & Family, but if you like Goods & Services that is OK to, but you will need to cover all fees.
  • Please know your areas regulations prior to purchasing.
  • Comment below prior to messaging me.
Finally, if you want to buy all of this together, I may be able to work out a deal.
submitted by evrydayzawrkday to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:34 Impossible__Broccoli Help! Experience accepting a counteroffer? Can you still apply balance?

A seller counter-offered just $1 above my offer few hours later - odd since the item is $50.
I'm nervous to accept the counter-offer because I was trying to apply a $15 balance to cover part of it (from my own sales).
When I accept the counter-offer, will it immediately charge me or bring me to a new page with today's updated fees, ability to add balance, etc?
Thank you!
submitted by Impossible__Broccoli to Mercari [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:28 Unique_Fail_8783 I work for one of the major Grocery Retailer….

Hi, This is a throw away account, I lurk on reedit occasionally to see that's going on in Canada, and what left wing people and right wing people are thinking, etc, etc. I work for one of a major Grocery retailers in one of their warehouses to be exact. I’m not going to give any specifics of which company as they have been known to fire employees for making negative posts about them online.
To start the workforce of where I work has always been diverse, mostly a mix of European, Caribbean and Filipino(all are a mix of Citizens and Immigrants) Europeans being the largest. and I have never felt, until recently, that they favored any one group over another.
Over a year ago rumors started to spread about the company directly importing people from certain West African countries to work there. At first I thought this was just a warehouse rumor and kinda laughed it off, but I did some asking around and the rumor was fairy consistent. So I went and asked someone from the union to find out if it was true, so they confirmed that it was true and gave me some of the details about it, which differed from the rumors.
So The Company, The Federal Government and the government of the West African country had entered into some kind of agreement prior to covid to bring in workers from said countries and that The Company was going to provide some form of housing for the workers and deduct it off their pay(I don’t know how much is being deducted or what kinda living arrangements they have been given) and was supposed to start in 2020 but was put of hold because of covid. (On a side note The Company really started to push DEI sometime in 2019 so maybe this was some kinda prelude to mass immigration.) The Companies justification for this is the poor retention rate, which is true, however it started to improve over the last few years.
So a few months pass and a couple of West Africans start trickling in and it was only a handful and most of the newly hired were the usual assortment of people, and I thought the rumors at that point were kinda exaggerated(Conspiracy level stuff) until around last September. When the company pretty much stopped hiring white men, and the only time they would hire someone of European decent would be a women if they could not find a “women of color” to fill the position(DEI quota). At the same time work hours in the warehouse were being reduced due to a drop in sales due to inflation, yet they kept hiring more people(A lot of new hires would quit because of lack of hours). Not all of the new hires were from West Africa, A lot of Indians as well and I do not know if they are all from the agreement I mentioned above. This change also happened with a couple of third party companies that the company contracts, like for shunting and security, where they completely stopped hiring white people all of a sudden and replaced anyone who was white with Indians.
So back in January, there was a major labor dispute at one of the fruit processing facilities in the region I live in, I won’t give names but this company but it has had a long history being associated with Banana Republics in Central/South America. The strike was caused because the company would only give them a 5 cent raise over 4-5 years, which was only 5 cents above minium wage(I think it was 5 cents, might have been a bit more, but under 50 cents). The labor dispute resulted in the company closing down the facility 4 weeks into the strike. Some of the union reps went to participate in the strike in solidarity, and I was pretty shocked at some of the stuff they had heard:
Note these are allegations based on second hand information.
I suspect when said company opens up a new location they will probably be hiring only TFW’s or just directly importing people in under some other government program to avoid their worker from Unionizing, and I would not be surprised if other company's pull the same Banana Republic level shit as well, or maybe we are one, but we just don’t know it yet...
I have a couple of conspiracies theories of my own about whats going but I don’t see the Necessity to speculate when there plenty of damning evidence to begin with(Maybe some of the conspiracies are true, that's been a trend lately). And I have not even touch of my feelings about the cultural impacts of this subject as well, which are also just as important as the economic impacts. I’m really worried about the erosion of Liberal values in Canada, especially Women’s and LGBT rights, by importing millions of people from very Very VERY socially conservative cultures(Your average Conservative in Canada would be considered a Liberal in most places outside the West\Latin America).
Political action needs to be taken,I’ll most certainly be attending any protests against immigration, and its good to see people are starting to take initiative on this. I also stress people start writing their MP’s and MPP’s about this subject and keep an eye out for “town halls” hosted by your MP’s and MPP’s when parliament shuts down for the summer, and try to organize people to show up and express their concerns over immigration.
I use to support Canada’s immigration system, I remember back in 2015 all the problems Germany and Sweden were having with immigration and integration and saying “I’m thankful for the Canadian immigration system, because we bring in people who will integrate, and don’t have those problems” which was very true of the immigrants we brought in during the 70’s,80’s,90’s and early 2000’s. Or maybe we had those problems and the media was really good at covering it up… Who Knows?
If people try to call you racist or some kinda phobe, for standing up for your country, culture and people, just Smile and say “Whatever” and walk away.
submitted by Unique_Fail_8783 to takebackcanada [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:25 TheGangstaGandalf Discussion of the Diamond Handbook (Part 1)

Hey everyone, this will be my first attempt at a serious post on this sub. I’m not exactly practiced in articulating my thoughts (I’m more of a fiction writer) so please bear bull with any mistakes and please correct me if I’m wrong. The last thing I want to do is spread misinformation, I’m not an expert (or a financial advisor) on any of this. I'm here to learn, not to teach.
This post will be the first in a series of me reading through the entire Diamond Handbook (2nd) and just commentating on points I find interesting or discussion worthy. I will be asking questions as well as giving my own personal thoughts based on my understanding of the events that have transpired. I became an ape right after the sneeze, and followed a lot of the discussions back then, but have been zen for a while so I haven't fully kept up with a lot of the new developments.
I haven't actually sat down and read DD in a long time, so I decided to give myself a refresher and actually look at the Diamond Handbook (2nd) for the first time. I had read a lot of these posts as they had come out, so I had never felt the need to look at the full PDF before. For the apes that haven’t read it either, I recommend giving it a read. You can find the full DD library in the pinned post of this sub, and the Diamond Handbook is the first one there.
As I have been reading it, I’ve quickly realized that some of the stuff is a little outdated. That can’t really be helped since so much DD has been done between then and now, but this brings me to the two reasons for this post. The Diamond Handbook is likely the first piece of DD a new ape will be recommended; I want to spark discussion to clear up some things that are misguided or outdated in this handbook. The second reason is more of a personal challenge. Whenever someone denies the legitimacy of the DD, an ape usually responds by saying something like “Well, read the DD and prove it wrong”. The average MOASS denier won’t do this though, in my experience they just think it’s ridiculous on a conceptual level, and won’t take the time to actually look through all the DD available and construct a proper debate. I can’t really blame them for this though, spending so much time on something you have no interest in doesn’t sound like a fun time.
But I have a lot of interest in this, and I am an aspiring author who writes 400K word fanfictions for fun. I’ve got the time and the writing willpower. I am very big into trying to understand how a reader will interpret a piece of my writing, so I’ll be looking through that lens and will be writing this with the assumption that you have already read the Diamond Handbook (2nd). Please take the time to respond/correct what I say here, I want to learn.
With all that out of the way, let’s get started.
​
The Mother of All Short Squeezes (MOASS) Thesis, Published on May 26, 2021, by u(slash)HCMF_MACEFACE
Before we even get into the meat of this section I already see a bit of an issue. A lot of the language implies that MOASS is imminent, take this section for example:
*“If you don't believe me, just look at the chart of GME which our DD (Due Diligence/research/analysis) has been forecasting for a while now. The below pattern has only preceded massive spikes in price, but this time, those on the other side of the trade are going to have a much harder time suppressing the price like they did in January and March. Thanks to the activity on 5/25, we have entered the end-game. The MOASS is beginning.”*
I think most new apes will look at this, then look at the date of posting (three years ago), and think this is delusional thinking. They will say that MOASS did not ‘begin’ because it hasn’t happened yet. This would be pretty short sighted though, GME has always been a Deep Value investment, long positions are called long for a reason. ‘Buy and HODL’ is such a repeated mantra because that is the investment strategy most apes employ. Like most investments, it takes a long time to realize gains. Your retirement account will be growing for 40+ years before you cash that thing out, GME is my retirement plan so I don’t expect it to be much different.
Just because the sneeze happened in a week doesn’t mean MOASS will, in theory it should be a very long event as both the shorts and longs have a test of wills to see who caves first. However, the sneeze was the ‘beginning’ because it was exposed a lot of the fuckery that is going on in the market right now, I think that is the message that should be taken from this section.
*“These terms are key to understanding the theory and speculated value of a GME investment. Hyperlinks to Investopedia, "the world's leading source of financial content on the web", have been included for most market terms and concepts and it is recommended to check them out if they are not clear. We will be breaking down some of the more complex terms and concepts within the post and framing them within the context of GME.”*
After the introduction, this post does a great job of explaining all the concepts of the stock market that are relevant to the MOASS thesis. However, I do wish it mentioned some other stock terms for the sake of new investors. Since none of the DD is supposed to be financial advice, I can’t really blame them for these omissions, but at the beginning the OP does say they wanted the post to be good for newer investors, so I think some more pointing in the right direction should’ve been provided. I do appreciate the link to Investopedia, but this DD is already a novel, and the average reader might forget about that link by the time they finish it. So an additional link should’ve been provided at the end.
The two big concepts I see missing are Options and Wash Sales/Stop-Losses.
Options are interesting because they create a different type of buying/selling pressure compared to just buying/selling stocks regularly. There are concepts like gamma ramps and stuff that can be relevant when discussing catalysts for price movement. However, options are pretty scary for most investors, I’ve only ever bought one, and forgot about it so it auto-exercised for me (lol), so it’s not a concept I would call essential. I just think it’s better to be educated than not.
The much more egregious omission is that of Wash Sales and Stop-Losses. Wash Sales are extremely dangerous to new investors who still make decisions based on emotions and are not used to the volatility that comes with GME.
If you are unfamiliar, a Wash Sale is when a person sells a stock at a loss, then buys the stock again within a short period of time. As an example, let’s say you bought a stock at $50, then the stock goes down to $40.00 and you no longer feel comfortable with your investment. You sell the stock at a loss. You lost $10.00 on this transaction, but it’s not all bad. When you go to do your taxes, you can report this $10.00 loss to the IRS. This is good because if you make a $10.00 profit off another trade, you now don’t have to take taxes out of that profit, since the IRS will see this as you breaking even in the grand scheme of your portfolio. You didn’t actually make any money, so they aren’t going to tax you for it.
A Wash Sale is triggered when you buy back the stock you sold in a short period of time, this can even apply if you buy a stock in the same sector. So if you buy a stock at $50.00, sell it at $40.00 then buy it again. That $10.00 loss you took can no longer be reported to the IRS as an actual loss. So when you make $10.00 on some other trade, the IRS won’t see you as breaking even, they will tax you on that $10.00.
For a stock as volatile as GME this can be very dangerous, I know people who brought in the peak, then as the price went back down they triggered a Stop-Loss (auto-sale you can program to trigger when a price falls), only to then buy back in when the stock dropped even lower, creating a wash sale that fucked their taxes.
We say “Buy and HODL” a lot, but I think the ‘why’ of it has been lost in the meme. I personally buy and HODL because averaging down is a lot better for me than accidently triggering a Wash Sale. I fucking hate the IRS and don’t want any of that smoke. 
*“SPOILER: GME and \[Popcorn\] have tons of FTDs reported.”*
I just kinda don’t like the mention of the Popcorn stock here, it has never been a deep value investment. If you are unfamiliar with the Deep Value investment strategy, please take a look at the old Roaring Kitty livestreams. In summary, Deep Value investing is defined by looking for stocks that are extremely undervalued and unpopular due to no fault of the company. These external factors that are making the stock undervalued can be anything, shorting, COVID, stuff like that. But what makes it a Deep Value investment is always strong management within the company. If the company is not mismanaged in any way, then it is very unlikely to go bankrupt, and will have opportunities to make a comeback. GME has Ryan Cohen leading, a proven successful businessman that has already taken precautions to ensure GameStop never goes bankrupt. Popcorn just doesn’t have that. It is very short-squeezable, but it’s not deep fucking value.
*“Short sellers must eventually close, or cover, their short position.”*
Ok, but why ‘must’ they? This is another point I think has been lost in the memes. There are two problems with just saying ‘shorts must close’ without providing context. The first is the simple fact that there isn’t a due date. Unlike a common car loan or mortgage, a short position doesn’t operate on a time table. They can wait forever to close, unless they get margin called.
This next part I’m a little shaky on, I’m probably getting some things wrong here:
Ok, well how are they going to get margin called? The problem I see is that these Short Hedge Funds (SHF) are making a lot of money by selling naked shorts. It’s really hard to get margin called when they are literally printing money, and since they don’t have to report these their books just look to be filled with an infinite amount of cash.
So, there are a couple solutions to this:
1, Government regulation. If the SEC puts a stop to naked shorting, these SHF can’t print money anymore. Eventually the interest from their positions will eat them alive, and they will get margin called. Unfortunately, MOASS has the potential to destroy the economy like in 2008, so they probably aren’t too keen on just doing this without creating some kind of safety net. So I can’t really count on them to help, because the government has a vested interest in keeping MOASS from happening. It’s just not something I believe will be the catalyst. Although they might just do it on purpose given the right reason, like pinning the economic collapse on a scapegoat, or by GameStop forcing their hand by exposing the fraud somehow. I’ve seen a lot of apes hoping for one of these reasons to come to pass, but for me, I don’t see enough motivation from the participating parties.
2, A price run-up. If the price of the stock can unbalance the books of the SHF enough then they could also get margin called. I’m not counting on this either, since the price is manipulated by the process of naked shorting. Sure, they are digging a bigger grave when they suppress the price like this, but it can also help smaller SHFs with exiting their positions with OTC stuff. Over-The-Counter trades are trades made off the lit exchanges, historically it was intended to kind of simulate a transaction between two individuals, like buying a video game from a buddy off the books, no taxes, no regulation. Unfortunately, this is abused by institutions and can’t even be used by individuals, making dark pools of trades full of fraud and undermines the free market. Smaller SHFs that are more at risk of getting Margin Called due to their lack of collateral, can make OTC trades with the big naked-shorting market makers to ‘close’ their positions using fake shares. Of course, this only passes the buck so to speak, but it’s a viable strategy for them since the big SHFs that take on these ‘bucks’ are less likely to get margin called. A lot of historic short squeezes happen because a small SHF gets margin called, then drives the price up and causes a bigger SHF to get called, and so on until they’re all in the grave. This is why I don’t really give a shit if the price goes up to $80 in a week, it’s not enough, the buck has been passed. (To be clear, I don’t have proof that this is the reason for the uptick in OTC transactions, it’s just a theory. If a smarter ape than I can get on this that would be great.) But, even if a price run-up itself doesn’t cause MOASS, it may give motivation for the true trigger:
3, Interest Rates. Here is the big one that I look at, that I believe will be the true cause of MOASS. Now please, correct me if I’m wrong again, I am just an ape who dropped out of college. So, from what I understand a Short institution has to pay a certain amount of interest to the people they borrow the stocks from. This is the cost of borrowing and is how these Lenders make money. For a long time, the interest rate was at like 1%, this means that selling one naked short could cover the cost of the interest 100 times over. However, let’s say that the interest rate becomes 110%, sounds crazy, but this would mean that borrowing the share would cost more than the share. This would destroy the balances of the SHFs and ensure they get margin called. Why would this ever happen though? Because these lenders want to make money. These lenders are the real winners of MOASS, and they aren’t talked about enough in my opinion. Lenders can’t sell the shares they’ve lent out, their income is in the interest rates, there has to be a balance here between it being more profitable to lend the shares or to sell them. If Lenders start to think that lending their shares aren’t making them more money than the alternative, they will raise interest rates to make these profits until SHFs can’t pay them, then the SHFs have to return the shares, causing MOASS with the massive buyback, then lenders can just sell the shares on the way down. Lenders have a monetary business interest in causing MOASS, so they are the most likely cause of it in my opinion.
*“This is the GME MOASS thesis. GME is a stock that stands to hit an unprecedented price point due to the fact that manipulators of the market have failed to bankrupt GameStop thanks in huge part to the Legendary Keith Gill AKA* u(slash)DeepFuckingValue*, Ryan Cohen, and all of the GME investors who took part in this saga. It may not be today, this week, or even this month, but one day soon, these toxic participants have no choice but to buy the stock to close out their short positions.”*
I don’t think this is necessarily inaccurate, but I think it’s misguided, and the language here is a bit to emotive for my taste. I think the reason the company didn’t go bankrupt is because of the strategic share offering made by Ryan Cohen to build up more cash than the company’s valuation (at the time). All the other stuff was just dressing, DFV and retail did not make RC do this, this move by RC is what ensured the company literally can’t go bankrupt, until then (and at the time this was posted) it was still a risk in my opinion. So this huge thanks feels kinda like a pre-cum celebration, and I've never really liked putting Keith on a pedestal, he's just an individual investor, just like the rest of us.
​
FAQ, Published April 12, 2021, by u(slash)BYE_TRIANGLE
*“Why does Holding do anything?”* *“They need your shares to cover their short positions! They got greedy. Thinking GameStop would fail, the short sellers started Naked Shorting the stock. Long story short they created synthetic stocks with their special privileges as Market Makers. But they can’t cover a short with a synthetic share. So because of the Naked Shorting, the Short Sellers, multiple large greedy money managers, and Hedge Funds need a total number of shares greater than the number available to purchase. THEY NEED EVERY SHARE, EVEN YOURS CONAN!”* *“aRe YoU GuYs MaNipuLatIng THe MaRKeT?!”*
Holding does something else that I think is really important. It proves that retail is not responsible for the manipulation of the price. You see it in the mainstream media every time the price fluctuates, they say that retail and Roaring Kitty is driving the price up for the memes, and that the ‘meme stock craze is dead’ whenever the price falls, claiming that retail is selling. However, it quickly becomes clear to anyone with the willingness to research that retail holds. Holding doesn’t move the price at all, so they literally can’t blame this sub for the fuckery that happens.
Now, on the flip side, I know people on the old sub to buy and sell with these fluctuations, they did it during the sneeze and I’ve seen comments claiming to do it last week. I think this is why Roaring Kitty really had to speak to congress about this, because a legitimate-seeming argument could be made that retail was buying and selling at high volumes. The loss and gain porn on the old sub could be presented as evidence. Here though, apes hold, we glaze purple doughnuts.
So when MOASS does happen, the massive price increase will be only due to buying pressure from SHFs, so they are the only ones that can take the blame for what happens next. 
*“No one knows how high the squeeze could take the stock price. The best rational reasoning says that these numbers \[500k per share\] are possible through the laws of supply and demand. Furthermore, it is likely that the Short Percentage is a lot higher than reported, with many suggesting that the short-sellers, cumulatively, need more than 100% of the float to cover.”*
A lot of naysayers will claim people are insane for thinking that phone number prices are possible. They will cite that it would make the company’s valuation higher than the amount of money in the world, which is true. However, with the nature of fraudulent naked shorts being fake, the price is fake too, and the valuation of the company doesn’t necessarily mean that the whole float will be sold at those prices. Yes, it shouldn’t be possible, by all accounts it wouldn’t make sense, but it is possible due to the naked shorting. Also, institutions that own shares likely won’t HODL out for the phone number prices, they will sell when they think it’s safe, and when they won’t get in trouble with the SEC for destroying the economy. The infinity pool (the shares that will be sold at these prices) will be a small fraction of the total amount even among retail investors. So the argument that I see against the possibility of this doesn’t hold a lot of weight.
Keep in mind that even though ‘buying pressure’ moves the price up, someone has to be willing to sell in order for someone to buy. So as the price creeps up from $100 to $1000 to $100000 to $8675309 someone will be selling on the way up to get there.
*“Synthetic long positions could be used to disguise their short positions as well, the mechanisms behind this practice utilize the options markets and could explain some of the crazy options activity that we have seen in GameStop the last few months.”*
So uhm… I don’t understand ‘Synthetic Longs’ at all. Could an ape with more wrinkles elaborate on this? From what I can extrapolate, this may refer to an institution purchasing a naked shorted share from someone else?
*“While at the same time they employed the use of social engineering to slowly depress the positive sentiment for the stock on Reddit and elsewhere.”* *“You may have been called a Shill for one of a number of reasons. This community is very inclusive and open to everyone, but because of the blatant attacks this forum has suffered a lot of people are understandably paranoid. (Myself included). Please, unless you really are a shill, don’t take it personally.”*
I want to address this, because there is a lot of misconception about SuperStonk. A lot of people will claim that this sub is just an echo chamber cult that can’t handle anyone questioning the narrative. This may seem true on the surface, but I think the reality is just that we’ve become hyper sensitive to the social engineering the old sub fell victim to, and I remember this sub being attacked with that as well. So whenever we see a post that has extremely emotive language, we become skeptical and down vote it. Emotions have no place in investing, that is a common rule touted in even the oldest investing books, so posts that try to incite an emotional response are shot down. Apes aren’t about to be manipulated again. That being said there are emotive posts that still get upvoted, ones with positive hype-filled narratives. Since these get upvoted and the negative ones don’t that sometimes gives the impression of an echo chamber. This is because the facts do support the MOASS thesis, so a hype title and opening paragraph is just more agreeable with the facts-based narrative. Some people are just scrolling on their phone and don’t have time to read the whole post.
However, if you go into the comments of these posts, there are apes investigating the profile history to determine if posters are bots, regardless of the pushed narrative. If you look past the upvote counter, apes are very skeptical of any post that isn’t based in fact or harmless memes. The comments rule the post, and I have to say I’ve very proud of this sub for staying vigilant in the wake of Reddit restricting moderation tools. 
*“Ryan Cohen clearly believes in Gamestop, to the point of announcing that he will be taking equity as compensation. In fact, as of writing this all of the new Gamestop board members are going to be taking equity as compensation. This is seen as an incredibly bullish sign of the company's future success.”*
This is one of the principles of Deep Value investing, I wish this was elaborated on more of why this is bullish. This means that the board, and more importantly Ryan Cohen, is tying their individual self-worth to the company. Due to this tie, they will essentially ‘go down with the ship’ if the company goes down. This means that the board and Ryan actually have an interest in the company doing well, instead of having an interest in making money off the company. You may think this sounds like the same thing, but it’s not. If RC cared more about money than the company, then he could destroy the company to make money (this is what’s happening to popcorn), but by tying his worth to the shares, the only way for him to become richer is for the company to flourish.
I don’t really like the language being used here, stuff like ‘clearly believes’ ‘seen as incredibly bullish’ are all pretty emotive and doesn’t actually explain why these are positive growth signs for the company, they are just saying it is ‘bullish’, the average new investor isn’t even going to know what that really means. Even though GME is extremely manipulated, causing Technical Analysis to become increasingly difficult to depend on, the investment is still rooted in fundamentals of deep value. 
*“Below is a shortlist of some of the potential catalysts people are speculating about:*
-A Stock Split, or some similar move from Gamestop that recalls shares
-Gamma Squeeze
-Gamestop’s Q1 Earnings Call
-Some speculate Gary Gensler (Newly appointed head of the SEC), may make some move that sets things in motion
-DTCC rule changes taking effect
-Appointment of a new CEO”
Yeah… this feels bad man. I’ve talked about this already, but we can rapid fire down this list.
The stock split didn’t work out, since those in charge of distributing the splits did it fraudulently. Gamma Squeeze is the kind of thing that could trigger a smaller hedge fund to get margin called and cause a domino effect, but I’ve shared my theory of the OTC action. Earnings are nice, but public sentiment has always been more tied to the media manipulation than actual facts. Fucking Gary.
On the subject of bringing in new talent, I do feel like a big move will happen soon. We’ve already seen a lot of job offerings from the Corporate side of GameStop so this could be the next phase of the plan. I really think that RC has spent these last few years taking precautions to make sure the company can’t go bankrupt, the last thing he wants is to turn out like Toys-R-Us. A lot of downsizing happened, so now he can start thinking about upsizing again.
I’m not necessarily saying that these things can’t trigger the squeeze, but I am saying that depending on something to start it is just inviting disappointment. I think the ‘no dates’ rule has been sorely forgotten lately with all the hype and speculation around Roaring Kitty’s tweets and stuff. I am a zen ape, it happens when it happens.
*“First of all, it is incredibly important to note your potential biases when determining if someone is just a shill trying to spread FUD. Not all FUD is invalid, someone may bring up a solid point against an otherwise great DD, and that could scare you. Remember that just because you do not like what someone is saying, doesn’t make it invalid. It is important users here work with constructive criticism to refine their theories.”*
Damn, wasn’t I just talking about this? This critique isn’t going to just be wagging fingers, this is really good stuff that still applies today, and from what I’ve seen apes are doing a great job of distinguishing between FUD and legitimate criticism. I also want to take a second to thank the mod team, especially after their tools were restricted, they’ve been a great help.
*“…but since then retail investors have been buying on every single dip in the price… That's more than two whole months of buying-the-dip. Now, I will not speculate on numbers here, if you want to know more you will have to read the DDs on that.”*
This is pretty outdated now. Apes have been buying for three years now, and with the advent of Direct Registering we have a much better idea of how much apes hold. I can say with confidence now that retail owns a floats worth of shares. Since there is so much naked shorting, a lot of institutions probably own their own floats too.
I glaze those purple doughnuts, yum.
​
Citadel Has No Clothes, Published March 14, 2021, by u(slash)ATOBITT
Ohhhh, this one is special to me, I read it when it first came out, first time I was there on release night. Let’s see how it hodls up.
*“TL;DR - Citadel Securities has been fined 58 times for violating FINRA, REGSHO & SEC regulations. Several instances are documented as 'willful' naked shorting. In Dec 2020 they reported an increase in their short position of 127.57% YOY, and I'm calling bullsh\*t on their shenanigans.”*
58 times. I don’t actually know how much that number has gone up, but I’m sure it has. I am reminded of an old saying, that if the punishment for a crime is a fine, then it only a crime for the poor. The crime being done to GME is class warfare, it’s nothing less. 
*“$295,347,948,000 of that is split into options (calls & puts), while $78,979,887,238 (20.52%) is allocated to actual, physical, shares (or so they say). The rest is convertible debt securities.”*
This is why I’m skeptical that it’s even possible for Citadel to get margin called by a normal price run-up. Let’s do some math here. GME’s float is at 232 million-ish shares, let’s say they shorted 300% of that, just to be conservative (lmao), so that’s 696 million. To take what the first post said, Margins don’t get called unless an entities’ collateral becomes less than 80% of what they’ve borrowed. If they use their entire $384,926,232,238 portfolio as collateral, then GME would have to soar to a price of… divide by 4, multiply by 5… $691.32 per share. That may sound relatively reasonable, but I don’t think a normal catalyst would be enough for that. I really think interest rates are the key, think about it, if they have to pay like 30% interest on all of those shares, their portfolio will be reduced by that much (kinda) and we can find a much more reasonable midpoint. Now brace yourselves, I’m about to spend an unreasonable amount of effort on something that is probably wrong because I don’t know shit about fuck about margins or getting called (I have a cash account and I lack rizz).
In order to calculate that we gotta do one of those double equation variable bullshit things we all hated in school, I forgot what they were called but I remember how to do them.
So, we have a few variables:
C = Citadel’s Portfolio = $384,926,232,238
S = Shorted Shares = 696,000,000
I = Intrest = 0.30
X = Price Per Share
Y = Citadel’s new portfolio amount after paying interest
So, X and Y are undetermined, but we have two equations to work with
C – I(X*S) = Y
This one calculates how much money is going to be in citadels new portfolio after paying interest, we calculate the interest by multiplying the cost per share, by the amount of shorted shares, and multiplying that by the interest rate, then subtracting it from their total portfolio.
Y * 1.25 = X * S
This one calculates the total amount those shorted shares have to be in order for Citadel to get margin called, by multiplying their new portfolio by 5/4 and calculating the total cost of the shares.
X * S has a direct value; we can plug the left side of the second equation into the first to get
C – I(Y*1.25) = Y
Now we just gotta isolate Y on one side of the equation.
C = Y + 0.3(Y*1.25)
C = 1.3Y * 0.375
C= 0.4875Y
C * 0.4875 = Y
Y = $187,651,538,216.03
Now we gotta find X, we can just plug in the other stuff.
(Y* 1.25)/ 696,000,000 = X
X = $337.02 per share for shitadel to get margin called on 30% interest.
Holy shit, now that’s what I call reasonable. See how much interest can completely fuck a portfolio? They lost almost half of their portfolio value to a 30% interest to this. This is why the whole market will bleed red on the run up to MOASS, they will have to sell half of their portfolio just to pay the interest.
Citadel is probably not a good example of this, since they print the naked shorts themselves... so they would be paying interest to... themselves... when they borrow them? Citadel is so fucked up, I don't have enough wrinkles for this.
But hey, I think the concept of what I said is fine. High interest rates can reduce collateral and cause margin calls. Hey, just out of curiosity, how much is the borrowing interest rate looking now?
16.5%
SHF are fucked.
​
Anyway, I’m writing this on a Wordpad document so I’m not sure if I’ve come up on the character limit, but I think I’m getting close so I’ll end this part here. Please let me know what I’ve got wrong or any insights you want to share, I’ll be sure to talk about any interesting comments when I do a part 2!
TLDR: I am reviewing the Diamond Handbook (2nd) and seeing what has changed in the three years since it’s been compiled. I have a bias in thinking that high borrowing interest rates are what will cause MOASS, and that is shown here. This is not meant to be an impartial analysis, just my thoughts. Not financial advice.
submitted by TheGangstaGandalf to Superstonk [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:15 LoneWanderer2277 Interviewed under caution for flytipping - almost none of it is mine

Hi,
I just received a letter interviewing me under caution for flytipping, which I absolutely did not do.
I live in a block of ~150 flats, and we have a binstore that has a door that goes directly out into the road. Since the day the flats were built in ~2017, people have tried to get in, and one of the doors has visible wear and tear. There have been repeated reports of homeless people and others breaking into the binstore, but it is still the place for me to dispose of all my rubbish.
I just got a letter interviewing me under caution for flytipping. The stuff out there is all garden furniture or large bits of wood, apart from a small carboard box with my name on it - I don't remember the exact box, but I get online deliveries most weeks so it is definitely from something I bought. However, none of the rest is mine, and I didn't leave the box outside - I left it in the binstore as always.
The letter asks me 16 questions - excluding the personal details, they ask me if the rubbish is mine, how I normally dispose of rubbish, where did the rubbish come from, how and why was it left there, did anyone give me permission to leave it there, and what did I do to prevent it being left there.
I'm freaking out a bit as, as part of my career, I need to get security checked and they always ask if I have been cautioned (or maybe even if I have been interviewed under caution). I worry that this - on top of a deeply unhelpful £400 fine - could impact my future career.
I am not sure if there is any evidence that I didn't do it, because the only thing I can think of is security cameras and I don't know if there is any. But equally, beyond the box with my name on it - which I suspect was either moved there accidentally by someone breaking into the binstore, or accidentally by the people emptying the bins - I don't know what evidence they could have to lead to me having done it (because I didn't!)?
Very grateful for any advice as to how I should proceed, and if there is any way I can clear my name. I need to respond to their questions by the middle of next week I think.
submitted by LoneWanderer2277 to LegalAdviceUK [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:13 feoen Your favorite video game conspiracy theory?

There’s long been the theory that Nintendo tries to make people gay.
A famous example is the cover art for Super Mario Galaxy. If you isolate the letters on the title that have a shining star it spells U R MR GAY. On the sequel Super Mario Galaxy 2, the stars spell out YA I M R U?
One that I’ve heard that I think is a particular stretch is that the game Pikmin is supposed to be a subliminal command to “pick men” aka be gay. I don’t think this one has any credence since the Japanese name Pikumin is both a reference to “ippiki” which is a counting word for small objects, as well as “piku” being short for picnic and “min” being short for mini.
Another one I’ve heard is for Baldur’s Gate 3 that Astarion’s name specifically is pronounced “ass tear”, subliminally programming people to think about gay male sex. Given the heavy marketing push with Astarion and appealing to that crowd, this one feels more believable.
Which ones have you heard and which are you favorite?
submitted by feoen to KotakuInAction [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:12 toleste [QCrit] QUESTIONING, LGBT+ Contemporary Romance, 80k, first attempt

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.
submitted by toleste to PubTips [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:07 Formal_Chance_3840 Job Applications

It was summer. He needed money to pay for school next year. He decided to get a job. He needed to apply to different places. He first made a resume. He then made a cover letter. He walked around his neighborhood.
submitted by Formal_Chance_3840 to u/Formal_Chance_3840 [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 15:02 Hotpot-creations Short story - Science fiction: Synthetic Memories

Short story - Science fiction: Synthetic Memories
Image by Hotpot.ai
Synthetic Memories Story and image by Hotpot AI
The sun was setting over the city skyline, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets below. As the city lights flickered on, the world seemed to come alive with a sense of excitement and possibility. But for one man, the setting sun only brought a sense of unease and confusion.
His name was Daryn, and he had just discovered that his entire life was a fabrication. Memories that he thought were his own were actually implanted, and those that he cherished were nothing but a product of someone else's imagination. He was a pawn in a game he didn't even know was being played.
It all started when Daryn stumbled upon a small, nondescript office building on the outskirts of the city. The sign read "Memgen: Your Memories Are Our Business." Curiosity got the best of him, and he decided to step inside. Little did he know, this decision would change his life forever.
The receptionist greeted him with a smile and asked if he had an appointment. Daryn shook his head, but the receptionist insisted that he speak with the CEO, Mr. Greyson. Daryn was hesitant, but something about the receptionist's demeanor made him feel at ease. He followed her to the elevator and was whisked up to the top floor.
As he stepped out of the elevator, Daryn was greeted by a sleek and modern office. Mr. Greyson sat behind a large desk, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hims. He offered him a seat and began to explain the services that Memgen offered. They were the leading corporation in the memory industry, able to implant and erase memories at will. It was a booming business, with people willing to pay top dollar to relive their happiest moments or forget their darkest secrets.
But as Mr. Greyson spoke, Daryn couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt like he was being watched. He quickly brushed it off as paranoia and continued to listen to Mr. Greyson's sales pitch.
After a few more minutes of discussion, Daryn was about to leave when Mr. Greyson stopped him. He handed him a small device and told him it was a complimentary memory implant. He was hesitant at first, but Mr. Greyson assured him that it was completely safe and would enhance him life in ways he couldn't even imagine.
Daryn left the office feeling both excited and apprehensive. He couldn't wait to experience his new memory, but a small voice in the back of him mind warned him that something wasn't right. As he walked home, again he couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. He quickened his pace, eager to get home and try out his new memory.
But as soon as he entered his apartment, he knew something was wrong. The walls were a different color, the furniture was rearranged, and there were pictures of people he didn't recognize. He frantically searched through his belongings, trying to find something familiar, but everything seemed foreign to him.
Panic set in as he realized that his entire life was a lie. Memories flooded his mind, but he couldn't tell which ones were real and which ones were implanted. He remembered a childhood that had never happened, a family that didn't exist, and a job he never held. He was a stranger in his own life.
Determined to uncover the truth, Daryn returned to Memgen. He barged in and demanded to see Mr. Greyson. He wanted to confront him about the memories that had been implanted in his mind. But as he entered his office, he was met with resistance. Men in suits surrounded him, blocking his path and demanding that he leave the premises.
Daryn refused to back down. He knew that Memgen was hiding something, and he was determined to find out what it was. He investigated the company's operations, digging through files and hacking into their system. What he discovered was beyond his wildest imagination.
Memgen was not just a memory corporation, it was a powerful organization that controlled the memories of the entire world. They had the ability to manipulate people's thoughts and actions, erasing and implanting memories to suit their own agenda. And Daryn was just one of their many victims.
As he continued his investigation, Daryn realized that he was not alone. There were others like him, people who had their memories stolen and replaced with false ones. They were all pawns in Memgen's game, and it was up to Daryn to put an end to it.
With the help of his newfound allies, Daryn launched a full-scale attack on Memgen. They exposed the corporation's secrets to the world, causing a global uproar. The victims filed a massive class-action lawsuit against them as well. Memgen's stock plummeted, and their operations were shut down. Daryn finally had the answers he was looking for, but at what cost?
As he sat in his now-empty apartment, Daryn couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. The memories he thought were his were gone, and he was left with a void that could never be filled. But he also felt a sense of freedom, knowing that he was no longer under Memgen's control.
submitted by Hotpot-creations to HotpotAI [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 14:53 talkaboutluck Husband attacked and assaulted at work and then fired?

My husband was attacked and assaulted at work by a coworker. He was punched in the face, jumped from behind, choked out, and stomped on. He was lying in the floor for who knows how long before regaining consciousness and reporting to HR. He filed a police report and sought medical attention. The company did an internal investigation and fired both my husband and his attacker. The attacker was later arrested and has felony assault and battery charges.
This incident occured at the tail end of March and we received a letter from their insurance company today that makes me pause. My husband has called countless lawyers and many of them say that he has a case for a civil suit. But we can't get anyone to call us back to go forward with filing. He also filed for workman's compensation, but was told it would probably be denied because our state doesn't cover assault. When we were told this, we were given the number for my husband's previous employer's insurance company, so he called them and they did not have much information. They only knew that there was an incident. My husband let them know what happened, including the fact that this man had been hired and fired from the company before for trying to attack someone with a hook before getting rehired and attacking my husband. The lady we spoke to wanted to take a recorded statement from my husband and had me send over the injury photos, police report, and medical bills. When I sent them, they weren't able to open the Google Drive links I sent and I had to re-send everything, so she wasn't able to review them before the scheduled call to take his statement. She still hasn't taken it. Yesterday we received a letter from the insurance company with some forms to fill out and I'm wondering if we should even be talking with these people since they cover the company. The lady we spoke to on the phone even said she couldn't speak with my husband if he had retained a lawyer, which he hasn't yet because we can't get a call back.
We are at a standstill with this right now. I am a stay at home mom to two little boys and my husband is still unemployed and healing from injuries sustained in the attack. We have had to use every resource in our state just to get by and let me tell you, it's not much. We are multiple payments behind on our mortgage and car and we have received disconnect notices from utilities. We have been utilizing food banks. This is not how we want to live. My husband is a hard working man who just wants to make an honest living and provide for his family, but we have no idea what we need to do or if he needs to wait for a workman's compensation decision before trying to get a job, a job he can't even really work because again, he was injured and has not fully healed yet.
Does anyone have advice for how to navigate this? I have applied for mortgage assistance and utility assistance, am in the process of applying for food stamps, and calling our auto insurance company and bank for the car loan to try and see if we can be given a grace period. Nothing has been working out well so far, including getting a lawyer to get back with us. It's a big waiting game and we are really struggling. What in the world do we do? Located in Arkansas.
submitted by talkaboutluck to legaladvice [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 14:36 ExoticCupcake1653 How to apply for I140 from abroad?

I am self applicant and I have 2 questions, first one related with the possibility of my application:
PhD in theoretical physics (BSc physics and Mathematics) 2 postdocs 2 papers 30 cites 8 years of experience lecturing in university (teaching courses in physics and math) Several experiences to teaching to both STEM careers and bussines Salary above the average Other's work evaluator
But aside from having some international events as a speaker, all of my experience is in Mexico.
The proposed endeavor is related with STEM education: postgraduate studies, college and science outreach.
  1. Do you think the profile has possibilities?
  2. I am living in Mexico. How to apply from Mexico for I140. Can I send my application directly to the USCIS office in Texas or consular process? I understand that if I get approved I will need to do the the CP for the GC... But what about the I140 application? It doesn't appear in the Mx USCIS office webpage.
I have everything almost written, it's just metter of writing the cover letter and where to send it. Thanks in advance!!
submitted by ExoticCupcake1653 to EB2_NIW [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 14:34 Less-Reindeer333 Digital Marketing Courses In Janakpuri

1. IIDE – The Digital School
IIDE (Indian Institute of Digital Education) is a top destination for digital marketing education. Its practical, industry-aligned courses cover email marketing, social media, content marketing, and SEO, designed by industry experts. With a strong focus on experiential learning, IIDE offers unmatched placement opportunities through its extensive industry network. Experienced mentors, modern facilities, and a cutting-edge curriculum ensure students are prepared for successful careers in digital marketing.
Course Name: Advanced / Professional Certifications in Digital Marketing & Strategy
Mode of Learning: Online (Campus Immersion Optional)
Course Duration: 4-6 Months
Recommended for Students, Working Professionals, and Entrepreneurs
2. Expert DigiPro
Expert DigiPro in Janakpuri, Delhi, offers top-tier digital marketing training for entrepreneurs, professionals, corporations, housewives, students, and job seekers. The hands-on courses help individuals secure high-paying jobs and empower business owners to increase sales. They provide practical knowledge to ensure students excel in digital marketing.
3. Digiperform
Digiperform is a top digital marketing training institute offering practical courses for students, professionals, entrepreneurs, and job seekers. With a focus on SEO, social media marketing, and more, its industry-designed programs prepare graduates for successful careers, supported by strong industry connections and placement assistance.
4. Lone Star Academy
Lone Star Academy Janakpuri is a respected educational institution in Delhi, known for its quality academic programs and student-centred approach. It offers a range of courses tailored to promote academic excellence and prepare students for future success.
submitted by Less-Reindeer333 to u/Less-Reindeer333 [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 14:29 Blueredreditor Advice for Prospective NUS Business Student

Congrats on choosing and making it into NUS Business School! I previously wrote here: https://www.reddit.com/SGExams/comments/118r7cg/all_about_studying_business_in_nussmuntu/ on what are some factors when considering between NUS, SMU and NTU business school. For better or worse, you'll be stuck here for the next 4 years so here's some broad advice on making the best out of it.
1. Put in effort to draft out your own Study Plan; Future you will thank you
What is a study plan? Essentially, it's an outline on what modules you'll be taking throughout your 4 years in University. Especially for a business student, a study plan should go beyond "what majospecialization/double majominor". Yes, figuring what major (or majors) that you want to eventually take is the first step. The next step is also considering whether you intend to take a gap semester (i.e. leave-of-absence) to do internships (which is becoming increasingly more common place; maybe not 1 gap sem but possibly even 2!). The unfortunate truth is that many biz student realize late in Year 2/3 that they might not be as competitive as their peers and usually then seek out LOA internships and end up delaying their graduation (whether its a good or bad thing is debatable). Besides gap semesters for internships, there are student who do credit bearing internships (which counts for some credits/MCs) or even do a part-time internship during the semester while studying (Do modules on Mon and Tues, FT work of Wed, Thurs, Fri). Not every student get's their desired summer internships, and often student have to compensate by applying for Off-Cycle LOA internships.
In your study plan, you would also have to take into consideration possibly going on overseas semester exchange or even the 6M to 1 Year long NOC program if you're interested! Overloading more modules earlier in your Uni (Y1 and Y2) gives you more flexibility to adapt to changes in the future. Of course, you need to gauge yourself whether you're able to cope with the workload. (Overloading in earlier sems, mean being more free in later sems to do internships/explore other modules or minors).
Additionally, most higher-level modules have pre-requisites (mostly ACC1701). If you delay taking these pre-requisite modules, your whole study plan can be delayed by a semester. My advice is to take ACC1701 (and consequently FIN2704) earlier rather than later, because these two mods open up the other majors/specializations available to you. You'll also figure out whether you'll want to to take the finance major after taking these two modules.
  1. CCAs
There's a ton of CCAs available NUS-wide or Business School related. I strongly encourage you to take multiple CCAs (importantly taking into consideration what you can manage and your workload) so that you're able to meet new people and learn new skillsets. NUSC/RCs/Hall activities also count here. The unfortunately truth is that portfolio does matter in business school, and simply being good in academics (which can be competitive in itself) isn't enough. Your GPA/CAP allows you to have your foot in the door; your portfolio and experience allows you to enter it. Consulting CCAs in general are great an improving your eye for aesthetic and detail which I recommend. You'll be surprised that many biz kids are outright bad and atrocious at making PowerPoint slides even at Year 4... I would say that the CCAs you join do shape your uni experience in a large way.
  1. Group Mates
Find good friends and group mates! Those in NUSC/RCs/Halls have an easier time for this. For most of your basic core 1k modules, you group is usually randomized and you have no say on who you're working with. It is during these randomized group that you'll figure out the pain of having poor group mates, and things get worse if you're taking higher level and tougher modules alone. On this note, try to find friends that will do various modules together with you! Having friends doing the module together with you is a huge advantage, from extra resources, dead line reminders, doing quizzes/tests together etc. 5 brains working on a problem set is always better than 1 brain by itself, these 5 ppl will often get a better grade than the one hardworking individual working alone. Implicitly, those who stay on campus have a huge edge over those who don't.
  1. Business is ultimately not a technical degree
Controversial to some, but business school at the end of the day doesn't really teach you much. The only thing that it does teach is showmanship (and even then sometimes not taught well enough). Business School arguably teaches you how to carry yourself well, make fancy PowerPoints, use some excel, working with people (?) etc. Many of the more relevant things you learn, you learn them in your internship and your own experiences outside of the classroom e.g. CCAs. To me, doing well in Biz School is focusing on everything outside of academics (ensuring that you have some baseline CAP/GPA).
5. Figure out early whether you prefer Excel or Power Point.
The corporate world only runs on two applications, Excel and Power Point. Dabble in both, figure out early which application you prefer more and find a relevant internship/role/job that you enjoy decently that uses one over the other. Truly, Excel and PPT are the only takeaways when you leave the university. Great consultants are adept at handling PPT, navigating through them quickly with many templates in their desktops. Finance peeps do a little more excel work and have to do them well, fast and creatively. Even at the end of uni, there are still many students who can't use excel proficiently at a high level.
6. Internship Hell is real for those who care
Internship application period in itself can be a full-time commitment (for those that care). When internship applications open, you can be going through your own interview prep, doing several recorded interviews, applying to new internships etc. Many moving parts to juggle and a lot of ground work to be done. From preparing for interview questions, writing cover letters, tailoring your CV etc alot of the hell you experience in Biz school actually comes outside of academics contrary to popular belief (as Jean-Paul puts it, "hell is other people", bad group mates im looking at you). For those applying to more technical roles, you might also need to prep extra for technical questions e.g. IB 400 questions, consulting cases, market sizing brain teasers etc.
7. Not so much of an advice, but rather a plea from me to you
I really hope business students can be more code literate and savvy i.e. being able to read (and to a lesser extent implement) coding e.g. python or SQL. ~90% of the biz population are code illiterate (having only taken just 1 "coding module"). In a normal corporate workplace, you'll never have to code. But being able to think computationally, knowing the steps you can take to automate your task, time and workflow brings you more benefits than you can imagine when most corporate work that people do are typically administrative.
In conclusion, do your best in biz school. I think effort correlates strongly to how well you do here. You don't need to be smart (it makes life easier) but with enough forward thinking and future planning, you'll be able to grow through the next 4 years (and hopefully be worth it).
Feel free to ask any question in the comments, or for any seniors to elaborate and share their own experience! Left out a lot of controversial views not wanting to trigger anyone or NUS. Edit: I'm a graduating student from Biz, later they dont let me grad how? jk
Some extra links:
  1. An event calendar regularly updated by NUS Careers, usually has lots of interesting and relevant events, competitions, webinars (if that's your thing): https://nus.edu.sg/cfg/events
  2. Grading rubrics to apply for SEP, there is an actual rubrics to secure an SEP, please refer for those wanting to go: https://bba.nus.edu.sg/wp-content/uploads/sites/37/2019/07/SEP-Place-Allocation-Grading-System-2018-10.pdf
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