Norton immediate care center near me

Hello. I just passed the 600 mile "break in" period on my 23 ninja 400 and wanted to see if my opinions are warranted/similar to other people's experience. I legitimately could not stay below the 4K rev limit for 600 miles as my home is surrounded on all sides by 65 MPH highways. I rode the bike as normal (no redlining) and can confirm no engine damage was done, however I didn't whip out the bore mic to check cylinder wear.
My first bike was a 99 honda shadow vt1100, my second bike was an 01sv650, and the ninja 400 is my third bike.
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1. Engine is very strong. Power delivery is similar to the SV650 albeit less HP.
2. Transmission is kind of crappy compared to my sv650. Its very sloppy and has a tendency to false neutral going from 5th to 6th. I have to be a lot more deliberate with my shifts which does make me a bit nervous on track, but I've learned how to manage it. Clutchless upshifting is easy and my preferred method on track. When I get some extra money, I will probably completely upgrade the transmission with the Norton Kit
3. Paint chips easily. My Sv650 would scratch were the ninja 400 would chip. It might just be me, but I felt Kawaski had a very minimal amount of paint on the tank.
4. Shocks are very soft, but to be expected. I did the ninja 750 rear shock swap and improved the rear end feel alot, I just need to swap in some K tech or Ohlins in the front and the suspension will be solid.
5. I broke the plastic fuel rail taking off the tank. be careful when doing that. recommend taking the fuel line off first, but its difficult to unclip the fitting with the tank on. I will probably add the Spears racing metal fuel line
6. Not a fan of the rear axel nut as its a bit low profile, but whatever...
7. Seat is awful, I rode 300 miles yesterday and my nuts went numb 30 minutes in. I will be doing the Norton seat upgrade in the winter.

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Overall, for the money, great bike. definitely more of a budget bike considering the price point, but still the best bike for its class. 10/10 recommend.

hello, this is going to be a LONG one so sit tight. I unfortunately have no friends to turn to for this advice and every member in my family are either divorced or have no room to give relationship advice.
I met my husband when i was 19 & he was 21. I was able to meet him through my best friend who is in the military as is he and we just hit it off. I had ended a prior relationship & this was his first one. The first three months of our relationship was long distance as we lived in different states but covid allowed for me to take the chance to move down here with him, after visiting him twice, for good as college classes moved online. Shortly after we tied the knot, & i’d like to think him being in the military had no influence on this decision but i know deep down it was the best thing to do to provide means for us both. The first year of us being together was what many would label the “honeymoon stage”. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic and always considered that every stage of the relationship should always be the honeymoon stage. But i guess that’s just unrealistic. These past two years i’ve noticed a significant change in the way our relationship is. For example, There would be times we would get into arguments and he would immediately go to comfort me if i were to get emotional but now he has no problem with just leaving me alone to cry, heck there have been countless of times where i would be crying alongside the bed beside him while he slept. There have even been times where events, such as my birthday christmas or the military ball, i would be crying because of an argument and he wouldn’t even care to apologize or comfort me. Even when he should apologize & attempts to he turns it into, “well if you didn’t do x then i wouldn’t have done y and you wouldn’t be crying right now.” Or, as juvenile as it may sound, he would buy me chocolates and flowers on my period and now i literally have to beg to even receive flowers. His excuse is that he can’t afford $5 flowers but he has no issue buying $100 worth of pre workout every month. I’ve always been a “if he wanted to he would” type of girl and i know it may seem trivial but how hard is it to get your girl some flowers even if it’s plucked from the side of the road. It’s just the thought that counts, i want him to want to do these things for me and not because he wants something in return. The last flowers i got was because i told him he could do what he wanted with me if he got me some and then what do you know i have flowers now. Stuff like that just genuinely upsets me. I just want him to love me the way i love him. I’ve talked to him about this things multiple times but i feel it falls on deaf ears because it keeps happening. He keeps telling me he’ll change but he never does. I think what made me want to write this was last night. I finally found a group of girlfriends to hang out with and i was at their apartment. It was two girls who were roommates and we all had a fun genuine times together. It kind of made me think of when i was younger how i’d imagine my life to be in my 20s, I’m 23 now my husband 25, and it made me mourn the life i’ve never had. Living on your own with friends having your own space. & how i’d meet someone who will love me the way i deserve. what’s even worse is that i got a text from him asking when i’d be home and it kind of brought me back to reality. I’ll never experience the life i’ve imagined as a young girl, heck i didn’t even experience a proposal or a wedding. we just went to the court house. A part of me feels like a bitch for even complaining because i know he goes through a lot at work and i try to talk to him about it but he doesn’t open up. He always throws it in my face how he has it worse in life so i shouldn’t complain about things i have going on in my life and he’s also thrown in my face how this is “his apartment” since he pays the bills and it’s like really after three years of marriage and it’s yours not ours? I guess i’ve just come to a point where i don’t know if i’m even happy. i like to imagine my life living with roommates experience the life i wanted and meeting the person who my hopeless romantic side likes to believe is still out there, but then the other part of me wants to stay and try to work things out but it’s like an never ending cycle. I really do love him, when i think about leaving it breaks my heart because i can’t imagine him being with anyone else and i think about how much i’ll miss him. But i just don’t think i’m happy anymore, i always picture myself being the one in a sappy romance movie or novel because it’s lacking in my relationship, & it shouldn’t be that way. i don’t even like being intimate with him anymore because i don’t feel loved by him. our kisses feel empty to me. I don’t know if this is something people experience and have worked on, i am only 23 and i don’t want to call it quits on something that is so important. One thing that does constantly play in my mind is the “three loves theory”. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

Hi all,
Thank you for reading. I’m currently on holiday and I have bad Wi-Fi connection so I hope this post will be able to be posted which is why I have to go immediately to the point.
I’ve been dating my BF, John, for 2,5 years, living together for 1,5 years.
As soon as we moved in together, John changed a lot. He struggled with depression, was often very mean to be (calling me names, insulting my capacities in bed, my appearance, my character). He also refused to come to any family events of mine, often telling me that they weren’t fun and throwing a whole fit about it on the way there.
During all of this, last summer, John told me he wanted an open relationship without rules, which I didn’t. So he got very mean about that and just kept it too ‘If we ever feel attracted to someone we should go for it and explore that’.
Starting December 2022, John became a bit more himself. Thanks to seeing a therapist and working on himself, he still repeated that if we ever felt attracted to someone else, that we should explore it and often talked about how he was not jealous at all.
In February 2023, I joined a gay soccer team with some friends. One of the guys, Ben, and I got along immediately. I told John, who was immediately jealous because he knew Ben was my type, going so far as throw fits about it and being very jealous. So I stopped going, however I was still in a messenger group with my friends from the soccer team and Ben. Sometimes we posted memes in this, all very innocent.
In March, my mom got a diagnosis that she was dying. On the day that I got back from the hospital, John announced that he has been applying for jobs in Italy, cause he doesn’t like the weather where we live (Germany) this upset me a lot. In the meanwhile John was still very jealous about Ben and called it suspected that I stopped going to the soccer games.
We argued a lot and John and I agreed on taking some distance from each other. He wanted me to move out cause he preferred to stay at our place alone to think while I had to go back to my ill mother who lives 3 hours away.
During this period of no contact with John, my soccer friends and Ben were there for me, they texted, called and really cared a lot.
When my mother was taken to the hospital, I texted John, who immediately asked me to come back. But upon arrival he was cold and told me that it bothered him that now his thinking proces was bothered by me coming back. This hurt me and while he did try, I went back home.
Ben and the others were very caring and still called me, they gave me advice about John and my mom’s situation.
With Ben in the friend group we started to make jokes a lot and we talked a lot. But both of us were in relationships and we talked a lot about that too.
At a certain moment it seemed like John and I would break up and Ben even helped me find houses.
However things took an unexpected turn and John and I tried to work things out. I had told John about the fact that Ben was my type and that I had felt attracted to him. Ben asked me to cut contacted with him which I was already doing.
So I told Ben everything. He told me that he d an had felt attracted too but that this could be just through texting and that he had sometimes wondered what it would be like to date me. I told him that I had thought about that too but that I was with John. And we decided to cut off contact.
A few days later Ben texted me asking to meet up to talk about it, cause maybe we could just be friends. I agreed an when we met up, we talked and decided to just not be in contact cause there was an attraction still.
I did not immediately tell John about having seen Ben but when I did, 2 weeks later, he asked me to block him everywhere, which I did.
My BF accuses me now of ‘cheating’ which I don’t agree with since he was all for open relations etc and I never acted on that. Could you give me your advice ?
Tl;dr: BF (32M) accuses me (28M) of cheating, how to move on from this?

PREVIOUS
In the following week there was much work to be done. I left Eric in bed most mornings and had breakfast sent to my room for him. He needed time to recharge the energy in his leg so that he could walk properly again. That was never a specific limitation I imposed, it was simply that no magic is without limitations. Nothing is endlessly powerful, although some creatures come close.
It was the day after Eric returned that I received a letter from the enforcers and I opened it with trepidation. Only twice before had such a letter ever arrived, and neither of those times had I been the one to deal with it. Unfortunately for me, it stated that I was to meet with one of them in a very short time.
“Of course.” I muttered to myself. They’re an impatient species. When fae make plans it can take months, years or decades before we follow through with them, afterall time moves differently for us than most. But when the enforcers decide on something, it must happen immediately. I would hardly have the time to dress appropriately.
As it was I was still buttoning my vest as I left the castle grounds. Rarely do we permit other species to enter the castle, especially not when we are not familiar. Because of this there is a temple in the woods, just beyond the castle shield, that is a traditional place of negotiation.
I arrived shortly and trotted up the marble steps making no effort to conceal my presence. The temple was clean and well maintained, human monks are responsible for its upkeep. They are not more than a small group, but they understand well that we exist.
“You’re late.” an unfamiliar voice chastised me the moment I entered.
“I was given unreasonably short notice. It’s fortunate I saw fit to come at all.” I replied dryly. I hadn’t even told anyone where I was going, perhaps that wasn’t wise.
“Watch your mouth, Faeling. Where is Lazarus?” Ahead I could hardly make him out from the darkness of the temple. He was a dark, feathered creature hiding in the shadows with an array of glistening eyes and mass enough that the tips of his wings touched the ceiling.
“My father is no longer responsible for these territories.”
He paused for a moment, as if contemplating, “...Very well. Then you are the one responsible for maintaining discretion within your territory. As such, you should be aware of an incident on your northern boundary?”
“I’m afraid you will have to be more specific, the northern boundary is extensive.”
“Two from your castle attended the scene. A small town was decimated.”
My heart began to race, I hadn’t sent anyone out, so he must be referring to Eric and Charles. “Yes. I sent peacekeepers out to investigate, as per treaty laws; all instances of mass human interaction must be investigated and settled. There were no witnesses, and I have already begun implementing cover up steps.” I lied calmly.
“Are you aware of its cause?”
“...No.” I admitted reluctantly. If I were to lie in that instance, it would be easily disproved.
“So then it would seem you don’t know everything.”
“I have never claimed omniscience.”
He chuckled, it was a deep reverberation that rattled my vertebrae. “It seems the old ones have returned to the area. Ensure all matters regarding species confidentiality are handled appropriately, failure to do so will result in unpleasantries.”
“That is inequitable. We cannot be held responsible for the actions of another species.” I argued firmly.
“If they are on your lands, it is in your best interest to do so. Otherwise, we may have to investigate further into your operations, there’s no telling what we may find then.”
“All of Dunkel’s activities are within treaty terms. You are welcome to review the paperwork yourself, if you wish.”
“That won’t be necessary at this stage.” he replied calmly, “Keep a handle on your territory, little fae, or else.”
He vanished without allowing me the opportunity to respond. ‘Or else’, if I didn’t understand that it was a genuine threat I could have laughed at the irony of it. Gradually I realized I had been holding my breath, and I let it out slowly. It’s not often that I’m reminded how little my power is compared to ancient beings. The last time they were near was in 1926.
I only remember it because it happened close to the borders of Dunkel, and our father was concerned enough to visit. It seemed the old ones had been destroying towns haphazardly across the north, until they reached a mining town. For whatever reason they left a single witness alive, an elderly blind woman, and that broke treaty laws.
From what I was told, the family responsible was eliminated entirely in a single night. No man, woman or child was left. They were used to set an example. Before that the last time the enforcers needed to step in was the witch trials.
***
I returned to the castle quickly and began making arrangements immediately. The first step was to understand what human authorities knew of the matter and compulsion would grant me the records easily. Second, I needed to ensure the narrative of what happened was ‘nothing unusual’ as far as humans were concerned. That was easy enough, I sent out a small publicist team. They had handled such things before.
After that I sent word to all alliances, and more reluctantly a letter to my mother at Leúchtend. It was not because I wanted to speak with her. Rather that despite my personal grievances, she was still the current leader of our sister castle and needed to be informed regardless.
Next I needed to secure the borders of our lands better. We needed to know the moment something crossed the boundary, and for that I would need to coordinate with the spell writers. Although I was sure Tóru would be more than happy to express her skills, she almost never let it rest that she wished to do more.
Of course the additional work this incident created was only compounded onto my usual responsibilities. Infirmary reports, construction progress check in’s and permissions, maintenance and repair requests, deliveries and orders. I was grateful when my brother took care of the interpersonal requests, contracts, marriages and so forth.
However when the human interaction documents came in I was ready to quit. Reports from law cases, correspondence from the publicity team - Achaicus could have the castle. I almost didn’t care.
Admittedly most of it is as simple as signing it. Still it all at least needed to be read. It’s important that I know about everything that’s going on both inside and outside of the castle. Unfortunately, when I at last remembered the time I realized I had missed dinner, again.
I sighed, rubbing my eyes, the paperwork was never ending. I would have to come up with a better way of handling it. Achaicus had arranged all the documents so neatly that I couldn’t find anything anymore and I was sure I was going to be the first fae to need glasses at this point. Our eyes aren't designed to focus so close for so long.
“You missed dinner.” my brother commented as he came to stand in the doorway.
“I had realized as much.” I replied bitterly without looking over to him. So when he pushed aside the paperwork and set a plate down in front of me I was caught off guard. “Oh… Thank you.”
“Of course, if you starve, that means I have to take up all the paperwork again.”
“You don’t have to do anything, assign it to someone else, abandon the castle. You’ve got options.”
He ignored me, commenting instead. “You know you missed your appointment with Markos as well. And Jórn has been requesting and audience with you.”
“I’ll see Jórn tomorrow, that matter is unimportant.” I muttered, Markos was going to be pissed with me though.
“And your appointment?”
“I’m fine. I don’t even need it.”
Achaicus sighed exasperated, “Fine. What of your pet then?”
“What of him?”
“He didn’t make any appearances today, is he away?”
“No. He’s probably just still in my room.”
“Your room?”
“Yes, he sleeps there and he needs time to recover from his work.”
He was quiet for a moment, as if deciding something before he spoke more gently. “Brother-..” he began but I cut him off.
“Not you as well.” I groaned.
“Are you and he…?” he continued regardless of my objections.
“What does it matter?”
“If you prefer men-”
“I don’t prefer men.”
He rolled his eyes and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “Whatever, I don’t care what you prefer. However, you could have anyone you wished. Choose someone else, anyone else, choose a thousand others, Nathaniel, just not him.”
“What is it that you have against him? There was a time where you rather enjoyed his company.”
“I only enjoyed his company because he would drink with me without chastising me for it. But that doesn’t mean he’s a good person.”
“Tell me then, which one of us are ‘good’?”
“He will hurt you, and I cannot bear to see it.”
“Eric has never hurt me.”
“He will betray you.”
It was difficult to place the feelings of simultaneous irritation and pure astonishment that he would even dare speak to me about this. “He won’t.”
“How can you be certain? I implore you please, listen to reason. He has a thousand reasons to hate you and he is not the type to forgive.”
“I am certain because I know what betrayal looks like.” I stated coldly and my brother paused. I could see him connecting the meaning behind my words as I continued. “You betrayed me to father, several times. Do you not remember holding a blade to my throat? You wanted to kill me so badly I could see it in your eyes. I loved you most of anyone. When Father sent you away it hurt me so deeply most days I could hardly breathe, and when you returned all you felt for me was hatred. If you believe that didn’t break something in me you’re mistaken.”
“You know how deeply I regret that… You’re my brother, I could never hurt you.”
“That didn’t stop you from trying.”
“Brother I-”
I held up a hand to silence him, “It’s fine, it’s in the past. Which is entirely my point. I trust you regardless of your actions and your intent. It’s not men I like, it’s only him.”
“It’s not real, it’s a trickery.” he insisted, “Believe me, he can make you feel any way he wishes you to feel about him.”
“He’s just a man, how exactly do you believe he has any way of compelling me to feel anything about him?”
“Because I know it!” he exclaimed exasperated, “Because he has used the same charms on me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you remember the night you came to find him drinking with me?”
“Yes.” I answered simply. That had been the night Eric had kissed the palm of my hand.
“It was as if I were under a spell. I told him a great many things that not anyone but you or I knew. I told him how I had tried to kill you, and that we had switched. I told him how father killed Raisa and your manticore… I told him everything. I wanted to tell him. There is no natural reason for that, and before I knew it I was on the floor with him.”
“You and he slept together?”
“...No. He left before it got that far… I don’t know where he went from there.”
“Why did you not tell me of this before?” I muttered annoyed.
“Because he was not my property to be doing such things with… I feared you would be mad.”
“I am mad. You were so drunk you couldn’t keep from telling him secrets others were not meant to hear! What else did you tell him!?”
“N-nothing else…”
I felt ill. Those were things I never wished for anyone to know, especially not for Eric to know. “Get out.” I warned coldly. I was just like our father. When I was upset I wanted to hurt something and my temper was rising. As if I hadn’t dealt with enough things that day.
He left as requested and I chose to sleep in my office. Partly because I didn’t want to see Eric knowing what he knew about me, and secondarily because I didn't want to take my anger out on him. The amount of times I had almost hurt him previously were too numerous, how could I claim to have changed only to revert to the same behaviors?
***
In the time that followed I did my best to maintain a certain level of composure. Our mother, sister and two of our nieces arrived with their escorts not all that long after I had sent the letter. With them they brought word of more attacks near to their borders and with that information we were able to track a path downward from Leúchtend toward us.
“It’s almost as if they’re testing the line.” Alvíss commented looking over the map.
We had gathered in the war chambers to discuss the matter and had been doing so for some time. My brother and I sat across from one another while Markos, Alviss, Baltzar and Killian sat down the length of the table.
“Or they could just be traveling in that direction.” Baltzar countered. They had been politely disagreeing for hours, it was clear they didn’t like each other all that much.
“All this speculation is useless.” Markos spoke up at last. “If they are testing the borders, they would strike next beside the lake, if they are simply traveling south they should cut the corner toward the west boundary.”
“If I send guards toward the lake townships, and station look outs near the west border, would that be advisable?” I asked, trying not to sound as tired as I was.
“Yes, I believe that would be wise.” Alvíss agreed and Baltzar nodded. If they were in agreement, that was wonderful. Now this dreadful meeting could end.
Each day had been just as exhausting as the day the enforcer visited. My brother still treated me with unnecessarily apologetic behavior, though I had tried to assure him that it was days ago and I had already resolved it. There’s no point harboring unpleasant feelings and quite frankly, no time for it.
In the early mornings I trained with Charles, and in the afternoon I handled the paperwork. I received notification that Tougo wished to investigate the matter independently from us and I granted the request. While Sofie from the fae to the south replied with a curt letter stating that whatever our troubles she wished no part in our affairs. It was thankful that I heard nothing more from the enforcers at least.
Eric was still unable to find his cane and, after seeing how much distress it caused him to be unable to walk, I had Jórn make a simple wooden cane for him. It was not as fine as his original, nor did it hide a sword within it, but it was enough to settle his complaints.
Unfortunately that did not settle his mood of late. Since returning he had been particularly on edge. He woke in the night more than once sitting straight up in a cold sweat and instinctively reaching for his sword.
“Eric.” I complained groggily as he disturbed me. That was another reason I hardly slept, he could not make it through the night without waking and I had half a mind to order that he leave to his own room.
“Go back to sleep.” he muttered, pushing the hair back from his face as he gradually calmed.
“This happens too often.”
“It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.” he snapped back, irritated. Exhaustion was getting the better of him as well and it took everything in me not to give in to anger. Yet still he refused to tell me what was causing him such distress.
I allowed myself a moment to breathe out slowly before I pulled him closer to me, wrapping my forearm across his eyes as I did. “Nathaniel..” he complained half-heartedly trying to push my arm off before settling.
“Relax… nothing will harm you right now.”
“…You can’t know that..”
“But I do.” I assured, he was so warm against me and I was almost asleep again.
I couldn’t say how much time passed before he spoke again, “…Are you still awake?” He asked quietly. I thought I answered, however I must not have for he continued, “Do you think you could ever forgive me..?”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, or what he meant. I wasn’t even sure I had heard him speak, or if it was nothing more than a dream. However in the morning he was still beside me, and I assumed I must have misheard.
During the day he no longer attended training with Calla and Charles, instead he disappeared each morning until evening. I hadn’t asked him where he was as I was doing my best not to be so controlling, however, as far as I was aware, no one knew where he went.
Still he was in attendance at dinner each day, so I supposed he wasn’t going too far. Perhaps the most disturbing thing I noticed was that he didn’t speak to Calla, and she didn’t look in his direction. After dinner they went their separate ways and Eric no longer secretly took any additional sugar cubes from the table.
Of course I approached Calla about it. By this time it was clear something was wrong with Eric and it had gone on long enough that I needed to know, “Calla, might we have a word?”
“Yes.” She answered with a small curtsy, “How may I be of service?”
“What's going on between you and Eric?”
“Nothing.” That was a frustrating answer.
“Why are you not speaking to each other?”
“Because there is nothing to say.”
I got the feeling she was being purposefully blunt with me. It was almost rude, and it’s not often that Markos’s well trained doll acts out. “Is there nothing to say, or is it that you don’t want to talk to him?”
“It is both.”
“Why..?”
“He’s not who I thought he was. He cannot be trusted.” she stated simply. For Markos or Achaicus to say it was one thing, but for her to say it gave me pause.
“Did Markos ask you to say that to me?”
“No. May I be excused?” Her eyes met mine and I felt uncomfortable. I recognised the expression, pure deep anger, covered over by a complete lack of caring.
“Yes…” I agreed more softly and she left without another word.
I had enough on my plate, Eric somehow pissing Calla off wasn’t what I needed. Perhaps Charles would know better what was going on. Naturally he was the next person I tried to speak with. However I was interrupted as Jórn approached.
“Lord Nathaniel!” He greeted me in a jovial manner and far too loudly. He is slightly shorter than I, and well built from centuries of forgework. His hair is a long tangle of braids woven into one single larger braid down the length of his back. His eyes are deep purple, and he is older than most, perhaps my fathers age.
“That’s unnecessary.” I complained and he smiled
“I have completed the task you assigned me.”
“It was a request, not a task-”
He hardly allowed me the time to correct him before he presented two velvet boxes to me. I will admit the rings in them were beautiful. Rather traditional upon first glance they appeared to have a simple elegance, but as Jòrn insisted I look closer I noticed fine details.
The groom's ring was traditional; a single ring, with engravings on the inside and subtle textures across the surface. While the bride’s rings were a set of two intended to interconnect and had the same inscriptions.
“The diamond is natural, almost flawless, and all rings are made from the same gold nugget.” He began explaining eagerly, “You can see here, the tiniest inscription for the spell. So long as there is love in their hearts for the other the rings will remain a comfortable warmth and if there is deceit in the union the rings will turn ice cold. Are they to your liking?”
“You’ve outdone yourself.” I assured, of course I realized by now he wanted praise.
“I’m sure your lady will be very pleased. I’ll admit I had heard no word that you were with anyone. Can we expect a wedding? Children?”
I couldn’t help but smile tightly. He was fishing for information, I knew it well and it was exactly why I disliked speaking to others. “They are in fact not for me. But I appreciate the time and effort you put into them nonetheless.”
“Who are they for then?” He demanded more irritably.
“A close friend of mine. I’m sure you will learn who in a short time.”
He folded his arms unhappily. Jórn values tradition and has worked at Dunkel for several centuries. Like many of the older generation he is irritatingly nosy and dislikes being incorrect in his assumptions.
“Fine. They had better admire my work.” he grumbled disapprovingly.
“I’m certain they will be able to appreciate it even better than I. Thank you.”
Jórn nodded gruffly before allowing me peace. Claire was going to owe me doubly for that.
I found the time to give the rings to Miss Walsh shortly after receiving them and did so by dropping the boxes on the table beside her. Just as she had dumped herself on me when she asked I have them made. Initially she looked up from her sewing confused, then seemed to understand and a broad smile spread across her face.
“Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!” she half stood, reaching up without hesitation to wrap her arms around my neck and pull me into an uncomfortable hug.
I suppose I should have expected as much by now as I struggled to push her off. “Claire-” I began disgruntled but when she kissed my cheek I froze.
“Thank you so much Nathaniel, you’re a gem.”
“Please control yourself.” I muttered in response and she gradually let go of me.
“I’m not sorry, oh, and I haven't forgotten I know I owe you one now. Ahhh just nothing, like, horrible yeah?”
“I never agreed to that.”
“Well, if it’s horrible I’ll defer your favor.”
“That’s not permitted.”
“Did you put it in writing?” she countered and I clicked my tongue in annoyance. She’d spent far too much time with Markos it seemed. However, with my silence she continued. “Do you think he’ll say yes?”
“How should I know?”
“You’re friends aren’t you? You talk? Does he ever say anything about me?”
“No, usually he prefers to scold me instead.”
“That’s just because he loves you.”
“Yeah, alright. Don't lose your rings.” I muttered dismissively. Her endless cheer was simultaneously irritating and becoming. Whatever she thought, whatever emotion she felt it all poured out of her without any filter. I supposed she was good for Markos in that way, no way he could mistake anything she wanted or needed with his overthinking.
[NEXT]()
Chapter List
I'm waayyyy too nice this week.

Decided to play summon necro as it was rated bottom-tier by basically everyone.
To preface, are summon necros as bad as people say it is? Not really, I cleared the campaign in WT2 with only a few instances of minions dying too easily. But when it happens its pretty painfully bad, there's no recourse. Nothing you do generates enough corpses and since you put all of your eggs into the minion basket, you can't really do that much damage on your own to start getting them back up.
My minion kit is:

• Skirmishers with the Crit buff
• Frost Mages with Vuln buff (+blizz lege power)
• Blood Golem with damage buff

That being said, there's still some glaringly huge problems with minions that need addressing:
-- Minion Health
Even fully invested in all minion passives, running the priest 24/7 every chance I can, even with the latest buffs, there are some mechanics that simply decimate your minions and you have absolutely no control over it. It's better, but clustered elite packs once you hit WT3 will kill your minions, and if you don't have corpses handy, you're screwed.
No one else has this problem, it is unique to summon necros, there are conditions in which we become fully unfunctional and there has to be some way to deal with this. It's not like we're crushing damage meters and blowing up the world so this weakness is warranted, it's just another nail in the coffin of a kinda bad build.
Suggestion: Either increase the base healing of the priest or tie it to a passive to heavily improve how much the heal does. 2% life per second doesn't cut it when minions are taking 30% of their life every hit, the passive that makes it heal them for 60% of their life after 5 seconds is great, but it requires so much forethought and setup in a game where an elite minion might just spam AOE's and instakill your dudes, there is no reactive way to save your minions. Which seems like something we need.
​
-- Minion AI
Minions are dumb as hell. In fact part of the reason they die so much, I think, is that they often just stand there getting beaten to death while doing nothing. They seem to get locked onto enemies and then, if there's other enemies in their way, instead of changing targets, they just stand there or try to run around to get to it and fail to do so.
Skeleton Mages sometimes lag so far behind that they don't engage enemies with the rest of your minions.
Golems suffer this the most. Their activated ability has to make them ignore enemy colliders, they should rush to the location you used it, trigger their ability, and then go back into a normal state. Currently, the number of times I've used a golem ability and honest to god had no idea where my golem even was is way too high. I walked past a group of enemies, used my golem to try and force move him past that first pack, and it took him in the realm of 10-15 full seconds before he actually got to me. Not to mention, if you use the golem's ability on top of certain monsters, like towers, they run in circles around it doing nothing for like 30 seconds.
Suggestion: Please improve this, make them more aggressive, make the golem not such a complete moron. Minions need something, like ignoring each other's colliders, or being able to walk through enemies, something. They get stuck in packs and stand there like idiots all the time.
​
-- Minion Damage
Of all the things, this is the best part. I absolutely melt bosses and single targets. Getting to the boss in WT3 Nightmare Dungeons is the hard part, the boss basically dies in a couple seconds. They suffer in packs because none of them really have AOE besides the golem, so I supplement them with Bone Spirit to clear most trash out and let them focus on the elites.
That all being said, it is insane to me the hoops summon necros have to go through to upkeep their keystone passive and some other passives that are huge contributors to minion damage. If I get hit, by anything, I lose 30% attack speed on my minions. I have to not take damage for 3 full seconds, in a screen full of bullshit, to get my keystone passive. There are fights I never even see this, because of the sheer amount of projectiles floating around.
And then...you want me to stay close to my minions to give them a 30% damage boost. And then...you want me to stay about 70% hp to give them another attack speed boost.
So I have stand in melee range of enemies with my minions, not get hit, and not take too much damage, or literally all of these huge buffs to my minions go away.
Suggestion: Rework all of the big damage passives. For minions to already be this weak, with this many problems, to pile on that you basically need to stand next to them and not get hit by anything, is completely insane. All the other keystones either don't have conditions or have extremely minimal conditions that are easy to satisfy, why is so much burden put on minions?
​
-- Army of the Dead "Ultimate" Ability
I cannot stress how painfully bad this skill is even after the buff. Unless this does giga-damage then it'll be a perpetually awful ability because it mechanically is bad. If it didn't rez my minions and if there wasn't a legendary power that made it a 7 second long 140% attack speed buff to my minions, I would snap remove this from my bar.
Army of the Dead spawns skeletons far away from you, near the edges of the room. The skill clearly targets any targetable thing. Not enemies. The overwhelming majority of your skeletons are lost to: blowing up on boxes, crates, jars, or just blowing up in the middle of nowhere on nothing. Very few skeletons actually make contact with an enemy.
Suggestion: Rework Army of the Dead to specifically only target enemies. Like monsters. Not boxes. And make sure they actually get to their target before exploding. Also, why only a 15% chance to spawn a corpse? It's a 70 second long cooldown, just let it drop bodies.
​
-- Enemy AI
Enemies don't seem to care at all about my minions, and that's insane. Rarely do enemies actually target them. The Butcher, for instance, does not target your minions, ever. And as a necro, you can't kite him, he runs faster than you do, and you can't tank him or at least I can't. I managed to kill him once because he got caught in a ring of my minions and they just beat him to death while his AI struggled to reach me (re-iterating again, the AI in Diablo 4 is bad). When he did reach me, I took some hits, popped blood mist, healed up, and tried to get him bugged into my minions again. It works, it's just extremely tedious, and my minions seemingly stop hitting him regularly because they seem to struggle with targeting moving enemies.
This creates an interesting problem, where I have seen on multiple occasions enemies basically funnel through my minions to gang up on me. And as much as I try to kite back, expecting any of them to engage any of my minions, they refuse to do so, meanwhile--because my minion AI is so god damn bad, they are in a constant state of trying to figure out where to walk and what to do, that they just slowly die from AOE's and don't really kill anything.
This doesn't always happen, but when it does it's infuriating.
​
-- Summary
The minion build is fairly fun, keeping up the damage buff, using the golem, watching army of the dead wreck a single target is all great--when it works. But the consistency in which it doesn't is overwhelming. I don't think it's crazy far off, but there are mechanical changes that need to happen to make minions really function, the pathing issue is so painful on the golem it absolutely kills me.
Also, why can we see the HP and damage of the golem, but not skeletons? This would be very helpful and appreciated.
Thanks.

I’m about to die.
I’m going to die and the family that just adopted me are going to be responsible.
Right now I’m locked in a room waiting to be taken to surgery where my organs will be harvested and god knows what will happen to my body.
I’m not supposed to even have a cell but I have to get this message out.
If not for my sake, for the health and safety of countless orphans that are out there and will be used for these people.
They aren’t my real family.
And maybe I was never meant to have one anyway.
But one thing for sure.
The Orphan Lottery is a lie.
If you had told me that exact phrase four days ago, I would have said you were crazy.
I’ve been waiting to have my name called all my life.
My name is Derek, and yes I’m an orphan. I grew up in a residential center in south London alongside about a dozen other kids just like me. We all had different stories about how we got here, disasters or disease or something in between. The world has changed and it hasn’t been kind to us.
For me it was a fire. I lost my family when I was seven and it burnt half of my body.
When I was placed at the orphanage they said I was lucky.
“We have a special program here that helps children like you called the Orphan Lottery,” the Headmaster said.
It was a horrible name but as she explained it, the way it worked made sense.
“There are literally millions of families that want to adopt. Unfortunately for the most part everyone wants to have a newborn, an infant. They want a child that they can call theirs. Older orphans are usually swept under the rug. My predecessor felt this was unfair, wouldn’t you agree?”
Before I could even voice a response, they just kept rattling on about how great the program was.
I have to admit I was impressed especially with the accolades they gave it.
“The lottery is designed to counteract a cruel world. Precisely once a month when a family comes to us for adoption purposes we pull a name from random for the selection. These families are more… well to do, they donate more to our programs and they understand that every child we take care of here deserves a fighting chance to get to live a normal life.”
I got to see how the lottery worked less than a week after coming to the orphanage.
All of us were huddled into a small assembly room where we normally had breakfast and told to pick numbers. Then we sat and listened to an intercom broadcast of the local news and weather like normal, before finally a number was called out.
It was a young girl about three rows in front of me. She leapt up, waving the number excitedly from side to side. Then two men in white coats entered the room and congratulated her before our normal duties resumed.
It was a simple and clean process but for someone like me, that was sure I was going to be trapped in the orphanage for life; it was profound.
Winning the lottery was going to be my only way out of here.
There were some skeptics, and I wish dearly I had listened to them before my name was called. A close friend of mine, Peter, wasn’t sure about any of it. Some of us made jokes and called him paranoid Pete. How I wish we had actually listened.
“It’s odd that we don’t get any testimonials from people that have been adopted isn’t it? They can come and tell us about how the families are taking care of them, how the lottery benefited them and stuff,” he said. Peter had been there since he was five.
“You’re just mad your name has never been called,” someone said.
“I hope it never gets called. Something about all of it is fishy.”
But I didn’t want to doubt.
I knew it could possibly be too good to be true, but I didn’t want it to be.
I had to wait two years before my name was finally called. It can be hard to just toss aside your hopes and dreams after that long.
But when my number came up during the morning routine, I felt someone shove something into my back pocket as the two men entered to escort me to what I thought was freedom.
I didn’t get a chance to realize it was a cell phone until I was well away from the orphanage.
The family that took me in seemed nice enough at first. Not very chatty because even when I asked them what I should call them, neither the man or woman bothered to respond.
They did quickly introduce me to their son though, a boy about my age named Andrew.
Andrew was on oxygen and looked to be in severe pain every time he took a breath. He gave me a look that told me he was suffering.
“Everything will be taken care of on Friday, dear,” the woman said, kissing his forehead.
No red flags went off yet. But the second night after an awkward and quiet dinner, Andrew snuck into the guest room where they were keeping me.
“You need to leave,” he rasped.
I sat up and ruffled my hair. “Why would I do that? I have wanted this my whole life.”
“You want to die? Because that is what will happen to you if you stay here,” he snapped.
His voice was trembling and I asked if he was okay.
“Don’t you get it? My parents selected you to give me your lungs. They are going to hire a surgeon and kill you!”
I almost laughed at the insane notion. But Andrew was dead serious.
“You’re just trying to scare me,” I said.
Then he pulled out his phone and showed me a video of a girl. I recognized her from the orphanage. She was already dead in the clip, her eyes removed. And another child was being given surgery for those exact optical implants.
“This is what the lottery is for. They don’t want to give you a chance at family… they want to give other families a chance at life that has been taken.”
I wanted to think it was a lie and I even got angry and shoved him. His parents came in, took him away and locked me in my room.
That was yesterday. I have been waiting ever since.
The father came in one time to… I think he wanted to apologize for what was about to happen?
“You must understand that the chances of adoption for an orphan dwindle away every single year. Families are content, we are taken care of and peaceful these days. We have no need for wastes of oxygen in society. And I’m sure you agree that you don’t want to be stuck at that dreadful place all your life…”
I’ve been trying to think of what to say and how to make it clear to anyone else out there what is happening; but I’m not sure anyone will believe me. I’ve used the internet and checked everywhere I can think of, no one has heard of the orphan lottery. It’s been a huge lie that was only told to us.
I can hear them coming now. Please, if you do believe me… save the others.
Give them that hope that has been maliciously stolen.

Sunny is going to bring back Mari, but there is a problem? They have to go to his Headspace to find a key component on Mr. X machine.
https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/312158558-deep-sixed
One day, Sunny was sleeping, and he got a phone call from his mom, after a long time.
*Sunny's POV*
*Sunny's phone rings*
Aubrey: Sunny, would you turn off the phone?
Sunny: It just rang in the middle on the night, what's going on this time? *Checks phone* It's my mom.
Aubrey: You mean our mom?
Sunny: Oh, technically yes. *Picks up call* Hello?
Sunny's Mom: Oh hey Sunny, it's been a while since we talk to each other. So how's Aubrey?
Sunny: She's fine, but why would you call me in the middle of the night?
Sunny's Mom: I have something to show you. Come at the coordinates that I'm going to send you to the messages.
Sunny: Ok. *checks the image in the messages* Here? Why?
Sunny's Mom: You'll see, and I think you will be happy when you see it.
Sunny: Ok, I love you mom.
Sunny's Mom: I love you both. *Call ends*
Aubrey: So what's going on with your mom?
Sunny: I think she wants us to go there. I think something's wrong.
Aubrey: Why don't we go, we never see her since for a while.
Sunny: Well, let's go tomorrow.
The next day, we went to the place where my mom wants us to go.
Aubrey: So, this is where she wants us to go, right?
Sunny: I think so, we followed the map.
So we went into the door, and we found Sunny's mom, waiting for us.
Sunny's Mom: Children, you're here!
Sunny: Yeah what do you want us here?
Sunny's Mom: Come this way, this should make us happy for all.
Aubrey: I'm scared.
Sunny: I know, she has been through so much, which includes us.
As we enter the room, a voice of someone we never heard of.
????: Hello Suzuki family, you finally came. It's time to act the plan together Ms. Sunny.
Meanwhile....
Molly and Jonathan, just hang out like they usually do.
*Molly's POV*
Molly: So, what are you going to do for your third year of college?
Jonathan: A lot of self improvement, and then try to research on how do I became a human again.
Molly: I don't think that's possible, but why don't we ask Omega Domino to do so?
Jonathan: We just can't request Domino to do that, we need to do something worthy just to do it.
Molly: Oh, well that sucks, but don't worry, I'll be here whenever you need me.
Jonathan: And you will be the person that I would never, try to hurt you.
Molly: Awww. Well, so what are we going to do?
Jonathan: I don't know, maybe you have something to do?
Then I got a phone call from Mr. X.
Molly: Mr. X, wazzup?
Mr. X: I need your help, and bring some people with you and some weapons to fight.
Molly: Ok? *Call ends* Jonathan, were going on an adventure. But first we need to bring in some people and some weapons.
Jonathan: What?
Few hours later...
Sasha: So Mr. X called you and told us to come here?
Molly: Yes, and I don't know why. Maybe they manage to make the portal stable?
Dorian: Who is Mr. X?
Jonathan: A bald person who works in the government and made crazy inventions.
Dorian: I wanna see that guy.
So we reach the place where Mr. X runs a lab, which is where he created a portal that supposed to lead us to Amphibia.
Mr. X: Hello kids, seems like you brought some extra help.
Sasha: I don't trust you. One time you got us stuck in a different dimension for a week.
Mr. X: I know, but now we fixed it. We just need to set a target location on the other side of the portal where it spawns, and the test subject voluntarily sets it in the White Space on his mind.
Dorian: White Space?
Molly: Uh oh, I think I know who the text subject is... SUNNY!
So we ran to the room where the portal was located, and we saw Sunny's body in a contraption, where there is a dead body right next to it.
Molly: Oh my gosh, what did you do to Sunny?
Aubrey: I'm so sorry, there's a reason why we did it. There is something in Sunny's mind that we just need to do this.
Molly: Do What!?
Aubrey: That one.
So the dead body that was right next to Sunny is her used to be his older sister. Mari, and Mr. X found a way to revive her.
Sasha: Oh my gosh, who's that?
Molly: I think, it's-
Aubrey: Mari. It has been 24 years since she died. When Sunny shut himself in, his mother met Mr. X, who was young at that time and he wants to donate her body to him, just to do an experiment. Thanks to cryogenics, she's intact, although a lot of the process has been made.
Molly: Process, what process?
Mr. X: Repairing her spinal cord after internal decapitation, which is the cause of her death. It took a lot of effort to repair the spinal cord with the help of the doctors from around the world secretly. That took 14 years to do it.
Jonathan: That was so damn impressive that you managed to do this, but why didn't you want to show it to the world?
Mr. X: It's too long, so we need to find another way. And this one is experimental that is too risky and the legal and moral problems that it needs to face in society.
Molly: So what are you going to do to her?
Mr. X: Were going to revive her.
Molly: Using Sunny's soul?
Aubrey: No, we use something to our imagination and bring it to reality.
Sasha: That seems dumb.
Aubrey: No, it's not. A long time ago, Sunny made a headspace from the first four years during Mari's death. His headspace was a place to survive during is shut in phase on his life. When I lived with him, we both filled in with crazy headspace plans that can help Sunny's future outside life. And then we came up with a plan to revive Mari by trying to create a life jam, which is called the Ultimate Life Jam that can actually revive a dead person, not a toast of bread after defeat. Problem is, this was on his mind and there is no way to replicate it in real life. Right now, he hasn't gone back to the headspace for a long time and we forget where we put the Ultimate Life Jam.
Molly: Who's plan was this?
Sunny's Mom: My plan. I spent so much hard work that I rarely interact with Sunny during his 4 years of shut in. I tried to help him by giving things he needed to survive, until we moved into a new place where Mr. X's base was near me.
Molly: Ms. Suzuki?
Sunny's Mom: I know. We were grieving a lot, and I'm the only one who can't recover at all.
Jonathan: I'm not sure if this should work, but I want to see what Sunny's headspace looks like.
Mr. X: Well that signs it. So what weapons did you bring?
We show all of the weapons that we brought to fight something in headspace.
Mr. X: Molly, why did you use a violin as a weapon?
Molly: It has Nokia strength, and I have calamity powers to back it up.
Mr. X: Sasha just brought a sword. You could have a cooler sword just like what Jonathan has.
Sasha: It was forge on Amphibia you know?
Mr. X: Jonathan, you are having a hard time using the sword, right?
Jonathan: I know, but this sword can float mid air.
Mr. X: Ok? So Dorian, you bought-
Dorian: A glock?
Mr. X: 45 caliber bullets? This seems fine. Do you have extra rounds?
Dorian: Yes, 200 ammo, and probably more lootbox in Sunny's mind.
Mr. X: Hmmm, I think you're all set and Sunny is in a state of controlled coma, which has a 24 hour time limit in our time to retrieve the jam, but we can wake him up if you finish it early though.
Molly: I won't disappoint you.
Jonathan: Uhhh, I think 24 hours will not be enough to find something in his headspace?
Aubrey: I have to remind you, time runs 48x slower in headspace, so you have a lot of time to go around and explore in the headspace.
Dorian: 48x slower, so that means we have 48 days. That's cool but we wouldn't waste it, right?
Jonathan: I'm skeptical.
After this, Mr. X reactivated the portal again, and it all leads to Sunny's headspace, or I like to call it, his infraverse.
Mr. X: Terri will keep you in touch on your headspace adventures.
Molly: Got it!👍
Mr. X: Alright, the portal will be activated in 3, 2, 1. *Portal activates*
Dorian: ... Ok, so we go in?
Jonathan: Of course we go in.
Then we went into the portal, and it landed us in Sunny's headspace, which was the most central part of his mind.
Molly: Where are we?
Jonathan: Were in Sunny's mind.
Molly: According to me, you will see his inner version of himself.
Sasha: This feels creepy.
Molly: Of course, it used to be scarier during the first four years, but as the time passes, he said that it gotten less scary since he managed to control himself to not let his alter ego take over his mind.
Dorian: Alter ego? Who is it?
Then we saw Sunny, in his inner form of his mind, panicking.
Molly: Sunny?
Sunny: Oh my gosh! How did you all get in my mind? I didn't plan to make you all in my headspace.
Jonathan: We used Mr. X's contraption to travel into different places, and he sets it to your mind and you have something to do about it, right?
Sunny: Oh, you mean the Ultimate Life Jam? Well you can take the jam, because I can't get it out on my mind. But since you weren't, you can bring it into the real world.
Sasha: Oh, I now the context on what Mr. X wants us to do: Find the life jam thing in Sunny's mind and bring it out in the real world using Mr. X portal.
Molly: He said that he won't open the portal until we get the jam or the time runs out. By the way, what's the problem?
Sunny: Look.
So he sent us to the control room in the White Space, which is where everything in his mind was controlled.
Sunny: So this is my headspace control room, and this is where my world is controlled. Normally, before I wake up, I must shut the headspace down to avoid incidents in the headspace when I was gone. However I forgot to turn it off one day and left it for NEARLY A DECADE!
Molly: So, is there a problem after leaving it for a while?
Sunny: Well, based on the map.... 4/10 headspace sectors are in serious situation right now. First is the Otherworld is in constant war with the Infinity world, which they are constantly suppressed by each other, then In Sweethearts Castle, there is a huge issue because Perfectheart deposed Sweetheart and it didn't go well for the townspeople, then someone breached my prison that I made for Dreamworld Kel from Dankistsn.
Sasha: Dreamworld Kel? Who's that?
Molly: Did you just imagined Kel as a prisoner?
Sunny: I just locked him in because if I set free one of the main 3 Dreamworld destroyers, Omori will come out and destroy me, including my mental health.
Jonathan: Oh no, we can't just go on and let Dreamworld Kel do destruction, I want to showcase the pain now?
Sunny: Well, we should get out using one of the doors that leads to outside White Space.
Molly: Can we go now? I want to see what is the rest of your mind be like?
Sunny: Ok, ok, let's go.
So we go outside the White Space and explore to save the Dreamworld. This is where the new adventure starts.
Snake: Sunny? Who are these guys?
Sunny: Oh, these arent in my mind, and they came from the real world.
Snake: How?
Sunny: Some portal contraption made by a bald scientist.
Snake: Hmmm, I'm gonna ask them. Hey blonde girl with a dye on her hair, why are you here!?
Molly: I'm Molly, and we are going to find the Ultimate Life Jam to revive Mari, in real life!
Snake: Sunny loved her so much... He wants her back, right?
Molly: Most likely yes, according to his accounts.
Snake: It's true. The sun shined brighter when she was around, but one accident was enough to send her into her demise.
Molly: I know the story, he accidentally pushed her down stairs and framed her death as a suicide, not realizing she was still alive.
Snake:... Did you tell that story to her?
Sunny: Yes. She also wonders what she was like when she's alive.
Snake:... Hmmm, that seems great, because we have a replica of her when she was still alive. He uses her to talk to his problems out
Molly: I want to see her!
Snake: Go for it. Sunny, here's your allowance, 30 clams to go around the world.
Sunny: Thanks snake.
We went outside White Space, and we're in the Vast Forest part of his Headspace.
Sunny: Welcome to the Vast Forest, be careful of hostile sprout moles, they are hostile when they are lost.
Sasha: How hostile are they?
Sunny: Very hostile...
So there was a path that leads to a playground, which was now abandoned after 15 years of stagnation. In the abandoned playground, a treehouse was built on the center of the playground itself.
Underneath the tree, we saw Mari, and acted like what she could have been when she was still alive.
Sunny: Mari, I'm back!
Headspace Mari: Sunny!
Under the tree...
Headspace Mari: Where have you been?
Sunny: Focusing myself in real life. A lot of things has happened. Getting a job, having a wife, and raising two kids.
Headspace Mari: Oh my gosh, that's a lot, but who are those guys? Did you programed it up into your imagination?
Dorian: No, were real humans, we came from real life.
HeadspaceMari: Oh, thats what happened.
Sunny: And I forgot to shut the headspace down when I was gone, and now there is chaos in some places and I need to fix it with the help of them.
Molly: So you're Mari, before you died, right?
Headspace Mari: Yes. I'm basically a replica of real life Mari, and I'm aware the real one died after accident.
Jonathan: Listen here, we're going on an adventure in this place and we're looking for the Ultimate Life Jam.
Headspace Mari: Ultimate Life Jam? Oh the life jam that can revive anyone that didn't die as a toast. I don't know where but it was being abandoned for a long time because Sunny forgot to shut the headspace down when he left.
Sunny: Yeah it's my fault and now there are some places in Headspace that are now suffering from humanitarian crisis and I decided to ask them for some help.
Headspace Mari: Oh, well if you need to fight, then here are some food and items that can help you in battle. You already have weapons right?
Everyone in my group: *raises all of their available weapons*
Headspace Mari: That's a, lethal weapon choice. That can work.
So we analyzed the food and items that she gave us. She gave:
- 5 toast - 5 hotdogs - 3 life jam packets - 2 Banana smoothie - 5 rubber bands - and a disposable shield, which helps to negate damage.
Dorian: Life jam packets? I don't think we need to go further.
Sunny: Those aren't Ultimate Life Jam though, but they function as a way to revive in the battle.
Headspace Mari: So, are you ready to tackle your own world after more than a decade of working in real life?
Sunny: Well, I'm ready. Guys, are you ready too?
Jonathan: Is it ok to cause as much damage as possible?
Sunny: Well yes, you can.
Molly: LETS GOOO!!!
Sasha: I have a bad feeling about this...
Dorian: Just let them enjoy, seeing these two side by side is pretty entertaining because Molly and Jonathan's dynamic is somehow worth it.
Sasha: Yeah, it should.
Headspace Mari: Also meet Headspace Basil when you are going around. He is somewhere though.
Sunny: Got it! 👍
Then we go around the adventure to fix Sunny's Headspace Humanitarian Crisis, then find the Ultimate Life Jam to be given to Mr. X

Hello :)
As the title says, I'm looking for a long-term discord friend. I'll say right away, I'd prefer if you are someone that enjoys voice chatting. It's just better to get to know someone, but also overall more fun. :D I'm not interested in keeping up a text only friendship. Text friendships just lack a 'human element' that I need in a friendship. That being said, we don't have to voice chat immediately if you'd prefer texting a bit first, but I'd like us to move towards mostly voice chatting for sure.
Beside that, I'm sure most of you would like to know what interests someone has prior to messaging them, so I'll tell you my main interests. Those would be listening to music, reading, playing the piano, songwriting, going to the gym, tv shows and animal rights. If some of our interests align, that'd be neat, but it's not necessary that they do.
What I look for in a friendship is mutual interest in each other and mutual care, so I hope you aren't just looking to fix your boredom, but to actually make a friend. I don't mind if we don't work out, but please just have the right intentions. Also, I guess some people would ask, my account is new because I haven't been here for a long time and the friends that I usually talk to have been rather busy lately. So I remembered this place and thought to give it another try :)
Anyhow, feel free to message me with a short introduction if you are interested in being friends

i’ve only ever told one professional, and it went really badly. like, think of the worst thing that could happen and maybe it’s 2 degrees lower than that because there’s a lot of really bad things out there. my point is- it was BAD. ever since then i’ve been terrified to open up about it. i now have a therapist i really really like and we’ve connected on every level, she’s completely understanding of all my struggles i’ve shared with her thus far and i have a good feeling about her, she seems to genuinely care and want to listen to me which is something i never experienced before.
the reason i’m so scared to mention anything is multifold, i suppose. for one, i don’t want her to think differently of me when i tell her. i feel a lot of shame due to my tendencies even though it’s something i want to work through with her support i’m still embarrassed to talk about it, especially when the prime component of my ed is different from what most people would expect. it’s just embarrassing. i feel so ashamed of myself every day. but that’s what i want to change, i realized today why it happens and i want to tell my therapist and maybe see if she can help figure it out fully for me.
my primary concern is that she will take it too seriously and suggest i get treatment somewhere else. i don’t want to share explicit details but my past experience, i told my psychiatrist about behaviors i had when i was THIRTEEN (19 at the time of this story) and she recommended me to a mysterious ed clinic (that she never gave me any info on before completely dumping me as a client) based off of that even tho i told her i didn’t participate in those activities anymore since i was very young. i’m scared of an extreme overreaction when all i want is someone to understand where my pain & struggles with food are coming from, because it’s not about my weight!!!!! it never has been about my weight!! i know what caused this and i know what can help, i’m just so scared of not being listened to again and immediately dismissed. i’m drafting an email to her right now i’m just so stressed because i really really like this therapist and i feel listened to for the first time. i don’t think she’d do anything like that to me but at the same time i have ANOTHER bad experience with a therapist i won’t even go into bc it’s still traumatic for me, she was the first and until now the only therapist i trusted so i’m so scared to lose this connection i’ve made with my new one:(
TLDR: it takes me so long to find non judgmental mental health professionals and i don’t want to jeopardize this by saying anything dumb. but i don’t know how else to get help. did any of you talk to your regular therapists (not psychiatrists or doctors or anyone who can diagnose) about any ed’s or symptoms of ed’s? did it go well for you?

On the morning of December 8th, 1941, enlistment offices all across the United States began to be filled by young men eager to enact revenge for what the Empire of Japan had done at Pearl Harbor. The offices would stay busy for a long, long time. It was a dangerous job, with life and limb at serious risk, and many more young men would join the Army and Navy by conscription. Lesser celebrated, and likely they’d have it no other way, were whole second armies of support personnel. These would be nurses, middle-aged clerks too old and or fat to fight, surveyors, engineers, and merchant sailors.
Some would be spies or intelligence men working for the Office of Strategic Services. Others were mysterious ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels who were very good at the procurement of various goods. Some would be anthropologists and translators, eager to help obscure native communities deal with the technologically advanced war tearing the island worlds asunder. Some would be entertainers for the USO, there to help with morale, doing what they were best at, whether it was telling jokes or dancing beautifully. Others might be war correspondents, to communicate, in a highly censored way, what was going on to the folks back home. Then there were the bean counters. Everybody overlooked the bean counters.
Many of the combat veterans, and even some of the non-combat personnel, would never make it home again. Others made it home, but only after being maimed and scarred in body and mind. Yet most would make it home. All of them would have stories to tell, though many would never tell their stories. There was a culture of silence during the war, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ It wasn’t just a catchy phrase, people took it to heart. It became a habit. Even long after the war was over people kept their lips zipped shut.
And yet, there were still millions and millions of stories, and some of them would be recorded. They might be memoirs committed to paper years later. Then again, many of these people kept diaries. They would write home every chance they get. Officers as a regular part of their duties were constantly writing up reports. Every single one would end up being read by someone, somewhere, and passed up the chain depending on its importance, or filed away if the chain ended there. With every battle won or lost, extensive analyses were conducted on what went right and what went wrong, and how we could do better. Actions of bravery were written up for recommendations for medals or promotions. Every serious infraction meant a court-martial, and court martials left transcripts. Bitter denouements and protests were written when it was felt officers weren’t living up to their duties, and in these cases, the lips were zipped especially tight, but the reports themselves were poured over. Every location where the U.S. went, whether it was the location of a battleground, a ranging area for artillery, site for a depot, or a road used to transport was thoroughly mapped and described in detail.
Then there were the bean counters. How many 20 mm shells does it take, on average, to knock down a Val dive bomber? How many pints of A-positive blood should be stocked in a forward field hospital? How many gallons of ice cream are needed to keep a company of Marines in good fighting spirit? The bean counters might not know, but they recorded everything down just in case you wanted to sift through the data, and a lot of people did. The data would end up having a massive contribution to the war effort.
Last were two groups of material that were never meant to see the light of day. The sort of thing that ought to be recorded, but then hidden away only for the purview of top men. The first is information you might expect would cause classification or a cover-up. Disastrous friendly fire incidents. Accusations and or confessions of war crimes. State secrets involving intelligence on enemies and allies both.
Then there’s the other tranche of material. The stuff that defies explanation. Secrets from the hidden corners of the earth that were never meant to be revealed until some young farmboys from a country far away showed up in places where they were never supposed to be.
The following provides an example.
Excerpts from the personal diary of Second Lieutenant Yvette Morgan, Army Nursing Corps, 231st Hospital Group, Normandy region of France, July and August 1944. Aged 20 at the time of writing.
Note: Most American personnel in WWII were restricted from keeping personal diaries for counterintelligence purposes. It was not uncommon that this restriction was flaunted, particularly among personnel with the luxury of a little bit of privacy. Lt. Morgan seems to have understood the purpose of the restriction, and so the redactions in the following excerpts are her own. A careful eye will note she’s made a couple of errors, which is why censorship should be left to the professionals.
July 30th, 1944- Just got off the truck and finally made it back ‘home.’ Just spent all ‘day,’ helping set up the field hospital. We’ve commandeered a high school in the little town of St. A. I think it’s going to work out pretty well. There’s a gym with a tall ceiling and high windows, which means good natural lighting, so we’re setting that up as an operating room. We’ve got about six beds in each classroom, which is just about the number you’d like. The corridors are nice and wide enough to handle gurneys, and there’s plenty of room out front for the ambulances. I don’t think we could have found a better location outside of a purpose-built actual hospital.
The real work starts tomorrow. Well, today, I guess. They ought to be taking patients right about the time I’m writing this. I drew the short stick, and now I’m stuck with the overnight shift. That’s my luck for you. Back home that would have meant at least it would be pretty quiet, but I don’t think that’s going to apply to this kind of duty.
“Home” is actually this nice little old cottage they’ve set me up with, and four other girls. It’s in the tiny commune of L. It’s actually about ten miles from the hospital, not far from the sea. Every shift they’re going to drive us back and forth in these trucks. Seems like an awful waste of gasoline to me, but what do I know? The whole reason they’re doing this is because the hospital’s technically in range of German artillery, and they like to keep staff like us out of harm's way when we’re not needed. I suppose we won’t be in range much longer anyway. That said, Capt. G says the front line’s been stalled out for a while. He says it’s slow going with all these enormous hedgerows they grow everyplace around here. I never knew they could grow so big, they must be hundreds of years old. I thought the poplar windbreaks they started growing back home after the Dust Bowl were impressive, but they’ve got nothing on these things. We can still hear the guns, though. They’re a long way off, and kind of sound like thunder, though you can tell they’re not because the sky is perfectly clear. At least, I hope, they’re mostly our guns.
The morning’s still a little chilly, but it promises to be a warm day. I’m going to have to get used to sleeping through it. After long last summer is really here. The cottage itself is lovely. I can’t help but wonder about the people who really make this home. There’s a delightful flower garden in front and just the most precious herb garden right outside the kitchen window. When I get married and we have a home, I’m going to insist on one just like it.
The other girls? Well, what can I say. 5 of us all sharing this little place, at least we’ll be working different shifts mostly. I’m sure we’ll get by swimmingly.
July 31st- Just got back and finished breakfast for dinner. Part of me still wishes I were at work. If I were at a civilian hospital I still would be. Funny how the military insists on sticking to the scheduled shift and they order me to go home and get some sleep. I might get used to such regimentation.
I say this as if I’m not completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I’m sure I’ll sleep tonight. Today, whatever. As I’d suspected, we had our first wounded in during the morning shift. Most of them had been through the Mobile Advanced hospital and had been at least looked over by a doctor. Plenty had already gone through an initial surgery, just to stabilize them, close gaping wounds, and tie off arteries. It was really crude stuff, but I suppose that’s the point. Our doctors opened them back up and fixed them up properly. There were a few walking wounded, shrapnel wounds, and nasty burns we were able to help out too. I feel glad to be part of such a great team. I spent the first half of my shift assisting in two different surgeries. Then the last half attending the wards.
I had hoped that would be more peaceful. Our boys are so brave, even when you can tell they’re really broken up over what they’ve been through. And yet it wasn’t meant to be.
I mentioned that St. A.’s was within range of German artillery. Well, there was an attack last night, early this morning, I’m still not used to the schedule. They didn’t hit the hospital. They hit the other side of town. It was loud enough to shake all of the windows, and even the ground shook. It scared the daylights out of me. Some of the boys yelled too. A couple of them fell out of their beds and tried to hide underneath. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that a second time, let alone time after time, day after day like our boys.
I was just starting to get things settled down and everything squared. Then there was commotion. A bunch of orderlies, then nurses, then doctors running around the front main hall. We were expecting wounded. They’d hit an old medieval church on the other side of town. The Church of Saint Adalthred. There had been a platoon of soldiers sleeping there. Now they were bringing the survivors in.
I had never done triage before, though I remembered my training. You divide the patients into three groups. The group that needs surgery absolutely immediately if they’re going to live. The group that can wait for surgery. And then there’s the group that will die regardless.
There were two young men that were in the last group. The first had a massive open head wound. The strange thing was he was perfectly conscious and capable of speaking, despite the injury. There was just nothing that we could do for him. He was alert for about an hour, and then he simply passed away. Is it horrible to think that was something of a mercy?
The other suffered terrible burns, and apparently some of the blast as well. After the triage, I was assigned to care for him. The doctor had estimated over 90 percent of his body suffered burns in the third degree. The kind of amount that really makes you question your faith. I’ve seen burn patients, but not when they get first arrive like this. His eyes and ears were gone. A strange thing was, he wasn’t screaming like we’d expect burn patients to do. The doctor said his vocal cords were burnt out, but his lungs were relatively free of smoke damage, and he didn’t have that horrible cough. The doctor said it was like “he’d inhaled flame.” He was simply silent. He’s not expected to last the night. Day, I mean. I suppose I won’t see him again. I suppose that’s mercy too.
I mentioned yesterday that I think a school building serves as a fine hospital in a pinch. I’m not sure about that anymore. It’s the ventilation. There isn’t any in the school. Fumes from the ether linger everywhere. So does the stink of infection, no matter how much we fight it. And that last patient. It was like he was roasted. Literally. I thought I’d be sick.
August 1st- The truck ride back is starting to become my favorite part of the day. This one was a long one, despite being the exact same length as all the other shifts. We’re really packed now. The minute we get one patient ready for transport back to England, another takes his bed. They say the war might be over before Christmas. I hope. Don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up this pace for so long.
The little old priest whose church got blown up by the Germans came around to volunteer at the hospital. Poor old thing has nowhere else to go. He’s helping us roll bandages, working the autoclaves, and helping the chaplain out with the prayers. He seems to be helping with morale, god bless him. Particularly the chaplain’s. The priest doesn’t speak English and the chaplain doesn’t speak French, but they both speak Latin well enough to get by. I’ve never heard it spoken before. I grew up Lutheran, and it seems so strange. I’m a long way from home.
The burn patient is still alive. I was really surprised when I got in and found out. Apparently so are the doctors. Of course, I’m attending him again and was asked to change his bandages. Most of the rest of his skin that hadn’t already sloughed off last night did so while I was changing them. I didn’t see any sign of infection yet, though of course, we all know what’s coming. Other than that there wasn’t much I can do. He’s started letting off this low moan. The doctor said he was not really conscious. I can’t imagine he would be, he’s still getting so much morphine.
He was already bleeding through before my shift ended, so I thought I’d do the next shift a favor and take care of it a second time on the same shift. This time the doctor had me place his arms over his chest and belly, and bandage them all together. Also, he had me bandage his legs together. The doctor said that if there’s a miracle and somehow he manages to pull through, it will be because he somehow beat the infection. And if he’s going to have any chance at all then we’ll need to minimize his contact with bandages until can receive grafts. When I was done he ended up looking like a mummy, right out of the pictures. I don’t think it will matter much, and neither does the doctor. But we have to keep trying.
August 2nd- Just got back. The burn victim is still alive. It’s so strange. It’s all I can think about now. When I first got in I went straight to his room. I was absolutely shocked, it was gruesome. His bandages were positively soaked through. There was more red than white. I was just about to chew out the girl on the shift before me. I thought that nobody had changed the bandages since my last shift, but then she told me that she’d just changed them two hours previously. I couldn’t make head or tales of it. So I just got to work changing them myself. It felt so odd, the way the other patients in the room were looking at us. Like they knew there was something off about the whole thing. The patient’s moaning is getting louder too. It must be so unnerving to the others sharing the room.
Then, of all things, Maj. P and Col. S came in to observe. I haven’t seen either of them since we started setting up the hospital. They don’t usually stay up so late. They were washed up and decided to help me bandage the patient. As if they weren’t just there to observe me, but wanted to be a part of it too.
Sure enough, after only a couple of hours, the bandages were soaked through again. I’ve never seen such terribly bleeding. I asked the doctor if it could have possibly been hemophilia. It’s something I’ve only heard about but haven’t seen. He only shook his head like he was sure that it wasn’t. Yet he also looked even more confused than I was. We’ve been giving the patient transfusions. But at this rate, I just don’t know where it’s all coming from.
I know I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing down, but the doctor confided that he’s thinking of reducing the morphine, maybe the patient will be more lucid. I don’t know how the doctor expects him to communicate with his vocal cords destroyed, or what he could possibly have to say even if he could talk. Well, it’s not my place to decide. I think he knows more about what’s happening to the poor man than I do.
It was all just blood too. In the bandages. No pus at all. I don’t know how he’s not becoming infected.
August 3rd- There’s a great deal of strangeness happening at the hospital. I saw the General’s staff car the moment our truck pulled around to drop us off, the little flags on the front gave it away.. Instead of starting my shift, they asked me to come back to Col. S’s office. My first thought was that I was in trouble, and they’d somehow find this diary. Both Maj. P and Col. S. were there, along with Gen C. who’d driven down from Corps HQ with a couple of his staff. There were also two men from what might have been regular Army, except they wore two long dark coats. I didn’t get their names.
Apparently, they’d all been there for hours and were wanting to debrief me. Well, it sure was intimidating, but they just wanted me to tell them what I’d seen. Fair enough. The patient was burned all over his body. He probably should have died the first night but hasn’t. There’s an awful amount of bleeding which I can’t account for. There’s also no pus or smell of infection, which also didn’t make sense. I told them about how he’s been given large amounts of morphine, though I didn’t say what Cap. H had said about reducing it. No, he had never been capable of speaking since brought in. No, he hadn’t been wearing his dog tags, but between the blast, and the length of time he’d been burning, he must have stripped everything off. Surely they were back in the rubble of that church. Then they thanked me and told me I could go back to work.
Well, I’d just about had it. I stood up and demanded that if they knew something about my patient that they weren’t telling me and that if they did I could take better care of him, well then they had better tell me. I think I even swore though I didn’t mean to. Maj. P almost laughed and Col. S just gave me that stupid patronizing smile. Told me I was already doing everything that I could, and that they were proud of me. He’s a good man, but I’m getting really sick of this Army “that’s on a need-to-know basis” crap.
Rest of the shift was just the usual. Strange how it's become the norm now. No, there was something else. The burn patient was in his room by himself. They’d moved the other beds out. They didn’t tell me why. Probably because his moan’s getting worse. And raspier. I still don’t think he’s out of the morphine stupor though.
Alright, it’s later the same day, the second. I’ve just woken up and had a serious chat with Kathy, the nurse from the second shift, and she’s had a lot to talk about. Rumors are swirling. I don’t know how much of this is true. My gut instinct? It’s all true.
Those men in the long coats? The rumor is they were Army Intelligence. That didn’t make a lick of sense to me at first, but then it started to come together. It turns out there were supposed to be 30 men, including the C.O., in that church that night it got shelled. Nobody else. Except when they added up all the survivors (who’ve moved on to the front), all the wounded that were taken to our hospital, and those who died, which took a while to count, then it all added up to 31 men. So somebody was there who wasn’t supposed to be there, and nobody knows who it is. They think they’ve got all of the dog tags accounted for, which might have been why they asked me about it when I came in later that night. And the one person they can’t account for seems to be the burn victim.
So they didn’t know who it was. Nobody from the St. A.’s was missing. None of the French Resistance were around that night (apparently Intelligence asked them? How else would they know?). So it's really suspicious and they were worried he might be some kind of spy or infiltrator. They still don’t even know why that church was shelled in the first place.
So they started asking questions of that poor old priest who’s been volunteering. We know because they let the chaplain sit in with him, but it seems both of the intelligence guys spoke fluent French. They asked him if there were any kind of acolyte or initiate or whatever sort of junior clergy he might have could have been there. He said no, and anybody who might have was accounted for and healthy. He asked if there was anything valuable that could have been stolen, or maybe he feared could be looted (would our boys do that?). Well, he didn’t think so. There was the holy font, which was an antique, but there were many like it and it was hardly easy to move. There was the Bible at the altar. It was very old and had great sentimental value, but again it would have no value to thieves. There was the tomb of St. Adalthred himself, which was priceless to his community but was a part of the church itself. Why the church had been built in the first place. Impossible to steal.
Then they asked the priest to come and view the patient. Perhaps seeing his proportions, perhaps it might have helped him recollect a similar person he’d seen lately. I understand why they did it. He, the burn victim, does seem shorter than any soldier I’ve met, skinner too. I wish they hadn’t, though. The chaplain said the priest had cried over seeing all those bloody bandages. There wasn’t a point, because the priest said he didn’t recognize him. The strange thing was, the chaplain had said that the priest's behavior seemed really strange. Like they got the really strong sense that the priest was being cagey, and lying to them. Not that he recognized the figure per se, but that he was thinking of something that he wasn’t telling them. He also insisted on saying a prayer over the burnt figure before he left, and they let him.
When I asked why they’d moved all the other beds in the room, Kathy said a little while after the priest had left the burn victim had started screaming, really bad. The other patients asked if they could leave the room, and because of the mystery, Col. S. agreed to it so they could isolate the burnt man. He was only calmer when I arrived later because they’d given him more morphine. When Kathy told me how much my jaw hit the floor. That part has to be baseless rumor.
August 8- I’m back in England. I’ve been too worked up to write, and worried, of course. After it happened, they put me in a truck, drove me to L. to pick up my things, and then I was on a Skytrain back to Cornwall. I guess we stopped at the cottage as a courtesy, it was on the way to the airfield. I was worried they’d find this diary, but they never searched. I don’t think they know what to do with me. I’m not sure what they should do either. They might just send me home, I suppose. I wouldn’t protest that. I just want to get on with things.
So. That night. The 4th.
I’ll start when I get off the truck. That moment when you hit the ground after jumping out of the bed is so sharp like it just sets your whole day. Like a starter pistol at a race. Something about it seemed off just as I was walking towards the door. Now I get in, and the front gallery, ever since that night of the triage, is a pretty empty place. But somebody was waiting for me, and it was Col. S. He came right up to me the moment he saw me. What an upside-down experience.
He starts leading me down the side hall, towards the back of the hospital/school where his office was. So of course I expected he needed to talk to me about something in his office. Only it turned out it wasn’t his office anymore. I thought something was off when I saw two armed guards on either side of the door to his often. Almost as soon, I heard the screaming.
I have just enough time to puzzle together what’s happened when Col. S walks right in, me in tow. They’d moved the burn patient to Col. S’s office, and he’d cleared out. The reason was obvious. The patient was screaming. Really, really loud. It hurt my ears in such a small office. The office was as about as far removed from the rest of the patients as they could move him. His bandages were soaked through, totally bright red. Jet red? Is jet red a thing? If you saw him, you’d say it was. It looked like they had been in the middle of starting to change his bandages, or just about to finish. Because there were parts of his flesh that were exposed. I didn’t realize it at first, and could only tell because of the texture.
I was just staring at him for a while. Jaw wide open. Then I looked at Col. S. He had been watching my reaction. He had such a sympathetic look. I asked him “How long has he been like this?”
“For hours,” he said. Like he was apologizing.
“How much morphine did you give him?” I asked. He was a doctor in his own right, of course. He didn’t get a chance to perform much surgery now that he’s the administrator, but I don’t think that ever leaves you.
He looked like he was about to cry.
“Lethal?” I asked.
“More,” he whispered.
We stood there silent for a few moments. Then he explained the situation. The only people allowed in the room would be doctors. Myself, and he explained I was the nurse with the most experience with him, and that I was the one he trusted the most. I’d have no other duties this shift. The chaplain was allowed in, and the priest. Also, the two guards out front, and that was it. He told me “The men from intel will be back, and a couple of spooks. We’ll figure it out then.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I just nodded.
Well, the chaplain was there, though he looked a total mess. And it turned out the priest had stayed late but had gone home, exhausted.
So I did my duties. Changed bandages. Changed IV bottles. There were two chairs in the room, one for me and one for the chaplain. With only the one patient sometimes I’d wait. We couldn’t really chat. The screaming was too loud. I don’t think either of us got used to it.
I suppose it was about 3 AM. Mom used to call that the witching hour. Around three it started to change. The screaming that is, the cadence of it. Is that the right word? He started screaming words. Very garbled, but words. That was when I remembered the doctor had said his vocal cords had been destroyed. Had he been wrong? It had to be. Both I and the chaplain were standing over him then. The chaplain whispering prayers. Sometimes we’d look at each other like maybe the other knew what was happening. There were no answers.
The words started getting clearer. Not that we understood them, but they kind of sounded like they were French. Both I and the chaplain thought he, the patient, was becoming lucid. The chaplain opened up the door and told the guards to get the colonel, also to send somebody to find the priest. I suppose anybody could have translated, or so I thought at the time, but getting the priest sounded right.
Well, the colonel wasn’t in, but Maj. P. was. He spoke a little French, but he couldn’t understand the words. I’m still glad he was there. As a witness. I’m glad me and the chaplain weren’t the only ones. It was like the patient was chanting.
It was, maybe ten minutes after the major arrived. The screaming just stopped. No words. Just heavy breathing. Hyperventilating maybe. It occurred to me then that the bandages had become soaked through again. I’d been there the whole time. Watching. Only now had I noticed. He was glistening. The bedding was bloody too, of course. It was everywhere. And then…
Then it happened.
I had been facing another direction. But there was a sound. Like a massive, loud inhalation of are. There was this bright light, like when a lightbulb is about to short out. Except I felt the heat, and I turned. The patient had burst into flames.
I screamed. I think the chaplain and major did too. The two guards ran in. Maybe they sent somebody else to fetch the priest. They just yelled and weren’t able to do anything else. In a normal circumstance, I think somebody would have fetched an extinguisher. Except the patient suddenly sat straight up in his bed. We were positively paralyzed. He was screaming again, and all we could do is watch. His bandages and bedding all burned away. Only then he stopped.
There was this man before us. He had no skin. No eyes. Glistening red, and patches of black where the ash still clung to him. He looked at us. Looked at me. There were two black holes in his face, above the hole for his nose, and his mouth, lips burned away and teeth missing. But the holes for his eyes… I could feel him looking at me despite having no eyes.
Then he spoke. It was French again, at least I thought. I couldn’t understand it. Full sentences. Raspy, but clear. No sign of pain or duress. Yet it was authoritative like he was in full command of his faculties.
I don’t think it lasted long before the priest came rushing in. The priest said something like “sortie” and then the Major told us to get out, the chaplain and I.
We did and closed the door behind us. The two guards were further down the hall, clearly rattled.
We could hear the priest and the burned man talking. Clearly, through the door. The burned man was distinguishable by the rasp in his voice, the commanding tone. Yet as we listened, there was something off. The burned man’s French was different than the priest’s French. It was like they didn’t understand each other. It was like they were speaking two different dialects, and I didn’t realize until I heard them both being spoken next to each other.
There was a pause of silence. And then the priest started speaking in Latin. I saw a look of relief on the chaplain’s face when the burned man responded, also in Latin.
The two spoke, the burned man and the priest. They went on and on, me not understanding any of it. The burned man seemed to calm, the priest becoming more anxious as they went. Then I turned to the chaplain again. His attention was totally focused on the closed door, but he was listening to the priest and the burned man talk.
He was shaking, and pale as a ghost. I’ve seen men shake. I’ve seen them shake from the effects of blood loss and shock. I’ve seen them shake because they’ve been mad from war. I’ve seen them shake from hypothermia and hypoglycemia and drug overdoses. I’ve seen no end of fear in their eyes. Fear as they’re going under anesthesia, or having their limbs removed, or knowing they’re about to die from their wounds.
I’ve never seen a man so afraid or shaken than that chaplain on that night. And all because he was able to follow that conversation in Latin.
The door suddenly opened. The priest waved us aside, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him. We pressed ourselves against the wall to get out of the way. The burned man followed him. Silent. Walking. We watched them walk down the hallway. The guards turned and fled. Then the priest and the burnt figure turned the corner, and that was the last that I saw of them.
I remember looking back into the room and seeing the Major, slumped in a chair, hands covered his face. The smoke from the burning bandages and bedding still hung in the air, sweet and strong and foul due to the lack of ventilation.
The two men in the long coats showed up. There were also a couple of men in suits. Civilians, I guess. They sort of took charge. Then they just put me on a truck, didn’t even ask me any questions.
And that’s what happened.
I’ve been on this base for a couple of days. They seem to be giving me a lot of freedom, they let me go into town yesterday. I went to a library. It wasn’t a very big one, but I guess it didn’t need to be. I found a hagiography. Or, I guess, a sort of encyclopedia on the subject of saints.
There was a very small entry on the subject of Saint Adalthred. Very little was known about him. He’d been a saint in early medieval France. He’d preached to royalty. The Marrowvingians I think it said, I don’t know what that is. Like all saints, he’d performed three miracles. Like all saints, he’d been martyred. He’d been burned at the stake. His last miracle had been his own resurrection.
I don’t know what to do with this diary. I never should have started it, and yet I think it’s important that I did. I think I’m going to turn myself in and give it to them. I suppose they’ll court-martial me over it, send me home. I don’t want to go home, but maybe I deserve it. At any rate, clearly, there are higher powers than me at work here.
-End copy.-
All of the documentation by the U.S. during the war was massive. All of the officers, nurses, spies, bean counters, and everybody else contributed to the pile. This was long before the digital age, or even microfiche, so the sheer scale of the paperwork is hardly conceivable. It could have been measured by the cargo holds of liberty ships.
After the war, the Army and Navy needed someplace to store it all. Any of it could have had unforeseen value, and destroying it was never an option. In 1951, with the Korean War raging and threatening to exacerbate the document problem, the Department of Defense decided to build a massive new warehouse archive to store it all. In 1956, the Military Personnel Records Center was finished. Ostensibly the archive was meant to store personnel records, but the military being the military, and the warehouse being of such a huge scale, it housed other records as well. Records such as the nurse’s diary, records of things unnatural. Supernatural. Only to be seen by top men.
One of the items discussed during the facility’s construction was the inclusion of a sprinkler fire prevention system. There was a concern that such a system could leak, and cause water damage to all the important documents. So the archive was built without one.
In 1973 the building burned down, taking millions of documents with it. The cause was never officially determined. At the time, and for many years after, the biggest problem was the bureaucratic nightmare it caused for millions of veterans and collecting the benefits they were entitled to.
To a very small community, namely us, the damage was a travesty. That’s the purpose of this project. To retrieve the documentation, study, and catalog it, this entry is only the first example. Naturally, the question arises- how do we retrieve these files if they were all destroyed in the fire? Well, that’s on a need-to-know basis, Lieutenant, and you don’t need to know.
​
Author's Notes: The War Files is meant to be an on-going series of horror stories set in and around WWII, and the very real Archive Fire. Maybe it would make a good podcast? This was sort of a pilot episode and thought it would fit the theme of this month's event. If you liked the story and want to read more, I'll probably post them either to my subreddit EBDavis or my substack ebdavis.substack.com

Hi everyone, I am very sorry if I have to go here again. I am needing your help once again but not for food, I have been diagnosed with a carpal tunnel syndrome for my 6 years of working as a data entry clerk and a call center agent. I have been using a band so I wont have to make any necessary i movements from my wrist to my fingers that can trigger it. It is bearable ar first but time passed by and it became worse.. I can't grip anything and It is my sister who is actually typing this with my assistance. I have an upcoming operation this coming June 7th. My health card will cover the surgery expenses but not the medicines and other post op expenses. I am knocking at your kinds hearts again to please help me out again. I dont have a specific amount regarding the post op expenses but anything that you guys can will be much appreciated. I do not have an income right now and stopped selling contents because of my condition.
You guys can donate here: https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=MEVAPX8LMWYQ8
Again, Thank you and please don't forget to take care and don't be foolish like me for not taking care of myself, If you need to take care of your family please allow yourself to take a break and do something for yourself too. No one will take care of them when we're gone and can't do anything to take care of them. Thank you all and God bless all of you.

The 1-year mark of the beginning of my problems with my first new Malibu boat has recently passed to no resolution of my problems. Therefore, I figured it's time to share my experience with anyone who may be considering a Malibu/Axis product.
In April 2022, I purchased a new Axis t250 off the showroom floor at Lake Norman Marina and it was great for the first few weeks, but on Memorial Day weekend of 2022 after a rider had fallen, the boat would no longer start. After about a week of the boat being at the dealership, they decided it wasn't just the starter and for some reason the transmission needed to be changed. About 2 weeks later I got the boat back, went out 3 times, and the transmission actually blew. They changed it again, and on my 3rd time out again the transmission blew. They changed it yet again and on my first day out the engine temp was skyrocketing and fluid spilling out, turned out a hose had not been secured properly and was spilling into the engine bay, but on the 4th time out, the transmission blew once again.
At this point, the entire month of June had passed, I had multiple issues with their maintenance practices and communication and had not received any offer of compensation for tows, no paperwork for warrant work performed, no contact from Malibu, or even an apology from the dealership. The boat had under 40hrs on it, and I had spent probably 15hrs on the water waiting for tows and being towed in. But the dealership and malibu decided to change the entire engine. 3 weeks in and I decide to call Malibu's engine department and ask how long, an engine change takes. (As an aircraft mechanic myself, changing giant turbine engines on Airbus fleets can be done in under 32 hours). The engine tech informed me it was a 5hr job and they also did not know why my transmission was changed in the first place since I had never received a transmission overheat message. However, I received my boat back about a week later and hoped that was the end, I could finally use my boat. About a week in, some wires to the screen came loose and I lost all my gauges on the opposite end of my home lake and at this point I was fed up. I told the dealership to take the boat back and I never wanted to see it again. I had been paying for a boat for 3 months and only had access to it for under 1 month.
This is when Malibu finally decided to get involved and Robert C. contacted me and admitted that the boat was a lemon. I informed him how I was displeased with the company, product, and the dealership and had never received a single piece of warranty paperwork, not even for the engine so that I could have the serial numbers switched on my insurance. He sounded surprised but ultimately didn't do anything regarding that issue but did offer to build me a new 2023 model year boat to replace my lemon if I just road that one out for the season because "Malibu wanted to earn my trust back as a customer". I expressed my concerns with product quality, the fact I'd be paying for a boat I hate for months, and new loan rates but after Robert adamantly assured me over 10 times that I would 100% be able to keep my same loan, and that my new boat would be put through a more in depth inspection process he called their "dock inspection" I decided to take the deal because pursuing the Magnussen Moss Warranty Act in court could have just yielded the same end result after much more time. Also, for 2 months straight I continued to ask Lake Norman Marina for warranty work paperwork in order to document my experience and the only thing I ever received was a screenshot of the hours of manpower assigned to my boat on one day.
In October of 2022 I submitted my new build and was told the new one would be completed in early spring/March. However, just after Christmas I received a call from the dealership that my boat was ready, and I need to submit for a new loan. I raised hell, right after Christmas when my credit cards were near capacity, 3 months early on completion, after a ton of reassurances that there was no way I would need a new loan at these higher rates, and after I have continued to make payments on the existing crap boat, I was told to get a new loan. I reached out to Robert because he was so adamant about the fact I would not have to, and he proceeded to make a bunch of excuses for the dealership and say it's out of his hands. Where I then responded, why would you make promises you can't keep, about something you have no control over? This was the most important stipulation of the deal to me. That is when I first realized Malibu cannot be trusted. They ran my credit and as I expected my 4.5% interest would now be 9-10%, but luckily, I contacted my loan officer and detailed the entire situation to him. There was no way I was going to pay more money for a boat from a company that had shitted me. I told him, you either keep this loan and continue to make the money off of me you already are, or I am getting a boat from another company with another bank, and you make none. He agreed with my position and after a couple days managed to convince his higher ups to do a collateral swap on my current loan. No thanks to the dealership or Malibu.
Here we are in 2023, new year, new me, new boat, lets fucking see. I take delivery of my new 2023 Axis t235, and she looks beautiful. I take her right to the shop to get some tint thrown on. That evening I take the boat to the marina and hop in to see if they put any fuel in. 88% full, ok well they did the 10hr break in so that could be why. The next morning, I have it fueled up by the marina, still 88%. Some, "dock inspection" and more so how did the dealership not notice this during the break in period? But whatever I am ready to surf and will wait until my first service to have it addressed. Granted, I surf 3-4 times a week and fill it before every outing for weight. Then I recieved notice of the recall on the steering cable block and called my dealer but they had not recieved any tooling to complete it yet. But he told me it wasnt like the boat was gonna blow up, just dont go full power and I should be fine, at most I'd need a tow and I was used to that after the previous year. The boats running great, all sorts of squeaks and dry pump noises I had mentioned on the previous boat to the dealer, and told were normal, didn't exist on this one. Amazing. But one saturday after a rider had fell, and 2 jet skis were coming straight at im I start tapping my horn and it gets stuck wide open. We shut the boat off and on several times but as soon as the battery is set to on the horn sounds, so we decided to get under the dash, mid-lake, and disconnect the button. While this is happening I just so happen to get an e-mail from axis to submit a review on my boat and experience. Which I answered honestly; boat runs good, salesman good, not too impressed with company, dealership bad. Within minutes Logan K. sales manager, and son of the dealership owner e-mails me, 6pm on a Saturday, and says, "I cannot believe you bashed us yet again. Actually, I can." and proceeds to tell me they will no longer work on my boat, also that he has CC'd his entire service department to let them know. I respond telling him how all I did was answer the questions honestly based on my experience, and that him unprofessionally e-mailing me with a refusal to work my boat because of that, with the several existing issues is not in line with Malibu's statement of wanting to earn my trust back. He stands by his statement and says that they will not work the boat, and that I need to reach out to one of 2 other dealers farther away to have them correct the problems. The following Wednesday I go to surf and my marina manager tells me Lake Norman Marina was here earlier that day and had pulled my boat out to do some recall. I immediately e-mail Logan, informing him that I would like to know where we stand because if Lake Norman Marina is no longer working my boat, then they should not be touching my property, and regardless I should be informed before they have it pulled out for any work. He claims it was an oversight and will not apologize for the mechanic, even though ya' know, he CC'd his entire service department. From where I am standing, I have no idea if this tech came out to sabotage my boat or God knows what. Now since that initial interaction that previous Saturday, I called Malibu and left voicemails on 3 different phone numbers Mon-Fri of the next week. 15 voicemails and not a single response. So, the next week I go to my local Supra dealership, who is amazing by the way, shout out to Southtown Watersports!
The guys at SW are familiar with my story because every time I have come for boards, jackets, or lead bags etc. I have given them the latest and greatest in my ridiculous experience. They told me dealers have a direct line to the manufacturer and I should go ahead and reach out to the next closest dealer, give them my story and see what happens. Thats what I decided to do, Captain's Choice is 2 hours from me and when I spoke with them, they were just mind blown by my experience. Told me in 20 years he hadn't heard a story like mine. But they were very helpful and said they were going to look up parts and work on my boat and get them ordered so I could get it all fixed without wasting time. Big upgrade there. about an hour later I get an e-mail from Mr. Logan again. "Malibu sent us the parts to fix your horn but I told Robert you said we were not allowed on your property so let me know how you would like to proceed." This ding-dong sends me this, twisting my words, in the same e-mail chain where he is the one refusing to service my boat and I stated that if you are going to refuse service then you shouldn't be on my property. I replied telling him that I had reached out to the other dealer as he forced me to but that I would rather them come fix it, than have to trailer my boat 2 hours each way for something small. The following morning, he replies that he thinks I should just move forward with the other marina, and he would send them the parts. What? After 10 or so days he emailed me about fixing it with absolutely no intention to fix the boat? fuck off. I sent him a strongly worded response signed, "Sincerely, Eat Shit." and forwarded the interaction to Robert, detailing that in the same chain Logan proves he is a liar and twisted my words. I didn't expect a response at this point, but 3 min later Robert finally replied asking to speak on the phone later that day. When I talked to Robert, he once again made a bunch of excuses defending the dealerships behavior while stating he was not taking sides...makes sense. Told me they could do what they wanted and that me trailering by boat 2 hours each way to Captains Choice was a reasonable thing, knowing that the previous boat literally broke every week for 2 months. He informed me that ignoring my 15 voicemails was his call, in order to not escalate the situation, REALLY makes sense. Also, states that he told the mechanic to access my boat for the recall, which is not what ol' ding-dong had said. All trust in the company and especially Robert is lost at this point, so the conversation is useless.
About 2 weeks later I finally have the appointment to get the issues at my boat fixed 2 hours away. A spot in the flooring had bubbled at this point so it was that the horn, the fuel gauge, and possibly the recall. I leave at 530am with my boat to make sure I am at Captains Choice by 8am. Everyone was great there and were just as mind blown as myself that traveling that far for maintenance was considered reasonable by Robert and Malibu as far as "earning my trust as a customer." I was there for about 4 hours, napping in my truck when they took me back to my boat and said they stuck a needle in the bubble and smoothed it flat as directed by malibu, but it could bubble again, and they would then replace the piece. They reconnected the horn and it worked but in case it got stuck again they would send me a new horn unit to my house, seeing as ol ding-dong logan never sent them the parts. I have yet to receive the parts. They said the recall had been completed but was never put into the system which is no suprise seeing as Lake Norman Marina obviously does not believe in paperwork. Then theres the fuel gauge, he showed me that the float will not reach 100% ever, that it was poor design and nothing they could do. I mean, if thats the case I figure the rep for Malibu, Robert should have heard this complaint by every person who purchased a t235 at this point and not sent me 2 hours away for nothing. Anyways, they buttoned her up, and I headed home. Captain's Choice was great and a much better experience than I had previously had at the other dealership but, in total, I spent 9 hours that day and a full tank in my truck to return home with a boat in pretty much the same condition I left with. A needle poke to the floor and recconnected horn that both may fault again, a paperwork update of work performed by someone else, and being told that my 2nd brand new $140,000 boat in a year does not work right straight from the factory.
When I returned home I e-mailed Robert and told him that Malibu can either take this boat back, I keep my experience to myself, and we part ways. Or I will sell it on my own and relay my experience. As expected, no reply, so here we are. During this time I have also made small comments to other Malibu owners posts and been contacted by multiple people sharing their stories with me about the companies poor treatment of customers, and as one 20yr Malibu owner told me, it seems to only have gotten really bad since about 2020. I know some people have had wonderful experiences but this is the honest recollection of my 1yr experience with this company and I think its best for anyone looking to purchase a new boat to know what they may be getting themselves into with this company.
Also, if any other t235 owners read this let me know if your fuel gauge only reads 88% full.

I (24f) feel hurt for him (31m) that his mum gives him silent treatment, dad not caring, his sis walking away when he told them that he's going to visit me (Philippines) for the first time. He lives in Australia and we have been dating for almost 6 years LDR. My fam is opposite, they're willing to welcome him eventhough English isn't our native language. Eventhough I really wanted to finally meet him, I kind of feel bad that his fam is treating him like that. Do you think his fam disapprove of us dating? Is it because they think I'm a gold digger coming from an Asian country? I don't ask money from him, I finished uni by scholarship and immediately landed a job- now studying for Master's degree. I am not ashamed of who I am and where I'm from but it just hinders me that I don't know the cause of their disapproval? Is it normal for a white parent who disapproves of dating an asian at first?
Anyone who has the same situation as mine? Let me know your experiences or thoughts

Falco “Fox, are you alright? Did you get severely injured?”
Fox “No, I just have a few lingering cuts. And I think I have lost my heroic pride.”
Falco “Glad you weren’t unconscious either… still, we need to get out of this staged trap!”
Fox “No! I’ll surrender to the Aparoids while you escape to safety!”
Falco “You can’t be a prisoner alone again! I’ll stay with my partner and let the others go free!”
Fox “No… Falco… please… go?”
Aparoid Hunter “REQUEST ACCEPTED! THE REST OF STARFOX MUST LEAVE THE PLANET, IMMEDIATELY WITHOUT DELAY!”
General Scales “We’ll be coming back for you, Vep!”
half-hour later at the prison room
Cyber Shears “Well what do we have here? Two StarFox mercenaries are in my wondrous fortress!”
Falco “Captain Shears!? Aren’t you supposed to be locked up at Corneria prison?”
Fox “Guessing he escaped and assimilated with a rogue Aparoid drone!”
Cyber Shears “You are correct, McCloud! And the Aparoid Queen isn’t the only one to view people’s memories.”
Falco “So what is your plans to conquer the Lylat System?”
Cyber Shears “I’m not conquering, but just a collection of brave heroes. And you both are my first welcoming guests!”
Fox “Are you going to put us in stasis pods?”
Cyber Shears “Heavens no! You’re going to be in a couple of comfortable guest bedrooms and have suitable uniforms to wear.”
Falco “I’m feeling a bit of deja-vu of a familiar warlord you stayed with, Fox!”
Cyber Shears “Similar but more helpful!”
Fox “I don’t want to go back home feeling depressed after that brutal experiment you did. But maybe I can stay for a few days until I’m fully healed.”
Cyber Shears “Good! I asked my hunters to bring back more defeated and depressed heroes to recuperate from their traumatic & overwhelming experiences.”
Falco “I guess I could stick around for a while and maybe explore the community in your fortress, Shears?”
Cyber Shears “Accepted, Lombardi! I’ll be in my office bedroom, and my servants will be here to take you to your rooms. Please enjoy your stay!”
in the shared bathroom between Fox and Falco's bedrooms
Falco "Fox? Are you feeling okay?"
Fox in his merman form and crying in the shower "Sorry Falco... I just needed some time alone."
Falco "Still feeling broken from Shears' dark experimental trap?"
Fox "And the dark taunts."
Falco "Listen, that aparoid might've knocked out your pride but you still have your courageous spirit to fight back with!"
Fox "I don't know if I have any strength to fight against my despair..."
Falco "But you still have your Wingman to back you up!"
Fox hugs Falco "Wished you have saved me! I don’t want to lose anyone from my failures!”
Aparoid Bellhop "Is everything alright in here, Mr Lombardi?"
Falco "Yeah, just giving a little pep talk to my friend here."
Aparoid Bellhop "I'll inform Master Shears the good news, and do you need an extra set of dry clothes to wear?"
Falco "Yes, and can you also get few extra shirts?”
Aparoid Bellhop "Any preference why?"
Falco "Just don't want him catching a cold of being shirtless, if he might eventually revert back from his merman form..."
Fox "Yeah, and can you bring a wheelchair as well?"
Aparoid Bellhop "Accepted! I shall retrieve what you have asked."
two days later…
Falco “So are you feeling better, Fox?”
Fox “Felt much better after being released from the hospitable estate! Thank you Shears!”
Cyber Shears “Well, more like a rehabilitation center and your welcome, McCloud. The doors are always open if you’re feeling overwhelmed again…”
Falco “We will need another favor from you since we don’t have a portal back to headquarters…”
Cyber Shears “Will a StarTaxi be helpful? You don’t need to pay, but input the destination and you will get there safely!”
Fox “That would be helpful! Thanks Shears!”
traveling in hyper jump
Fox “Are you thinking of going back to the rehabilitation estate?”
Falco “Just wanted to make sure that he didn’t have any drones in there, and maybe a bit of relaxation. Are you okay, Fox?”
Fox “Was just thinking of you when we were in the bathroom.”
Falco “Well I was trying to find out where you were and noticed that you had been in the shower. Still haven’t recovered from your depression?”
Fox “Almost recovered, but still had affective feelings about you for being more than a wingman.”
Falco “You silly adorable Fox!”
Wolf speaking through the radio “Well enough with the homosexual chat, you both are going to be debriefed when coming back home!”
Fox “Wolf? How did you find us?”
Slippy “Wasn’t that difficult to create an Aparoid tracker, but noticed you were coming back in a different vehicle.”
Falco “When we get back to Headquarters, I will let the girls have fun in my apartment while we have a private time in yours.”
Fox “I wouldn’t mind having some privacy with you, Falco! But maybe we’ll go back to the rehabilitation center incase we both feel downed…”

My search for the perfect tire continues. I have a Black Mountain Cycles La Cabra and live in Southeast Michigan near Waterloo Rec area.
The goal of this bike is to ride all the local gravel roads, take the kids bike camping, and use it for weekly group rides on pavement and dirt roads.
I have considered the Vittoria Barzo and Pirelli Scorpion RC Race. The center knob heights look too high for me to keep up with pace on asphalt/gravel rides.
The frame can handle up to 29x2.5, what would be the best tire for these purposes with a minimum size of 29x2.1?

I'm so tired of doing the work of removing sources of suffering in my life. I have destroyed so many illusions but they keep popping up in different forms relentlessly and keep getting bigger and bigger. I don't even know if I am doing this right or if I have even properly processed these things. The moment I feel resistance in my chest I start getting to work, digging for the core so I can find the illusion. Sometimes I will work through 2 or 3 seemingly unrelated issues in a day. I understand that things will keep popping up in my life if I don't dig deep to find the underlying illusions but what about resistance in general? If I keep having this resistance to all manner of things that pop up in my life, it makes me wonder if I am just doing this all wrong. Do I have to keep working through individual issues until I am liberated? Is there just one overarching illusion that I haven't grasped and I am just making my self needlessly suffer until I realize this illusion? I am also confused about what I should be doing. I was under the impression that this deep shadow work is nesessary but then I hear non duality teachers instruct that you focus on the sensation of the emotions rather than the emotions themselves. If that's the case, why do any shadow work at all if it's all just sensations?
Mine being a seemingly spontaneous awakening, I haven't followed a path or an instruction so far on my journey. I have just been feeling it out as I go. I feel like people who have awakened by years of practice and learning are more foundationally prepared for life after awakening. I don't know what the hell I am doing. Maybe I am not even awake at all. It's starting to get to the point where I feel anxiety about feeling resistance because I know how much inner work is going to need to be done. It's like a feel a bit of equanimity and BAM! Here is another matted tangled mess for you to work out, then comes equanimity again and BAM!. Back and fourth on and on and on and on. Gah!
I would love to hear everyones thought on this. I understand that it is a normal part of the process but has your experience been similar? Is there something obvious I am missing? Should I start following a path model? I am sure a teacher would do me well but where do I even find an earnest teacher? The buddhist temples near me are mostly non english speaking and most spiritual centers seem to want money, which I don't have. I don't know. I have mostly come here to look for support or find pointers and I can't begin to tell you how valuable this subreddit has been to me on my journey. I am so grateful for all of you doing what you can to make this journey less scary and confusing for people like me. Any advice or words of assurance would really help me right now. This has been the most instense and difficult five months of my life and I have passed the point of no return. Thanks in advance.

Update in stores expected Tuesday June 6, 2023
Requires Level 12
Act 1: June 7, 2023 1501 UTC – July 12, 2023 1500 UTC
Act 2: June 16, 2023 1501 UTC – July 12, 2023 1500 UTC
Act 3: June 25, 2023 1501 UTC – July 12, 2023 1500 UTC
Act 4: July 4, 2023 1501 UTC – July 12, 2023 1500 UTC
https://i.imgur.com/f4z8K6l.png
The game allows you to finish whichever part you are on at the time an event ends, so if you are running behind, try to get to pt 5 of each act before the end time.
Modpost please read https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/um35jp/repeat_posts_please_read_before_making_a_new_post/
*DAY OLD DONUTS task still in taskbook: If you tap Do It and it doesn't go to an exchange box in the currency section of the store you will have to contact EA and wait for them to fix it. report and add your me too here https://answers.ea.com/t5/The-Simpsons-Tapped-Out/Cannot-exchange-Xmas-2022-Tokens-For-Donuts/td-p/12123956
***Shattered dreams box only appears between events*\*
Make sure to scroll for all the tasks so you don't miss one
Double check that Confirm Donut spend is turned on in the settings
______________________________________
Overview:
As a mild summer settles into Springfield, the residents of the city find themselves looking for something to do. To help them out, Sky Finger pulls the Springfield Glen Country Club out of the void. However, Mayor Quimby finds himself excluded from the membership of the Country Club and vows revenge, opening a rival course. And if that wasn't enough, Mr. Burns finds that his rival, Aristotle Amadopolis, is trying to steal his tee time and challenges him to a match to determine who gets to keep it. What will happen? We're not sure, but keep your head down. Springfielders are lousy shots.
________________________________________
Intro Quest:
Act 1
Prizes:
· Golf Course Fountain (Decoration)
· Susan (Character)
· June History Mystery Box Token
· Springfield Glen Entrance (Decoration)
· Burns' Hounds' Quarters (Building)
Premium: Springfield Glen Country Club & Evelyn Peters (Building & Character) 150 Donuts
o Notes: Earns event currency for Acts 1 - 4
Super Premium: Golfing Dr. Hibbert + Golfing Dr. Nick (2 Skins + 165 Donuts) $11.99
_________________________________
Act 2
Prizes:
· Golf Tee Box (Decoration)
· Sand Bunker (Decoration)
· June History Mystery Box Token
· The Golfin' Dolphin (Building)
· Golfer Homer (Skin)
Premium: Springfield Municipal Golf Course & Jimmy (Building & Character)
o Notes: Earns event currency for Acts 2-4
Gil Promo: Driving Range (Upgradeable Building) 200 Donuts
__________________________________
Act 3
Prizes:
· Golf Ball Washer (Decoration)
· Caddy Bart (Skin)
· June History Mystery Box Token
· Golf Cart (Decoration)
· Golf Course Alligator (Pet)
Premium: Caddyshack & Chadlington (Building & Character) 150 Donuts
o Notes: Earns event currency for Acts 3-4
_____________________________________
Act 4
Prizes:
· Golf Clubs (Decoration)
· Crowd of Golfers (Decoration)
· June History Mystery Box Token
· Sand Trap ATV (Decoration)
· Golf Green Bundle (Building + Façade)
Premium: Springfield Junipers Golf Club & Club President Bildorf (Building & Character) 150 Donuts o Notes: Earns event currency for Act 4
__________________________________________
June History Mystery Box
o Number 51
o Stonecutter Lodge
o All-Seeing Eye
o Ark of the Stonecovenant
o Money Pool
o Stone of Triumph
o Stonecutter Table
o Satan's Anvil
o The Fracker
o The Scout Master
o Citizen Solar & Wind Lad Bundle******
o Orphan Alley
o Soilant Red Factory
o Spirography Factory
o Springfield Books
o Wholesome Publishing
o Wonder Films (One week wonder films)??
o Coolsville w/Milo
o Springfield Asylum
o Dr. Lenny's Lab
o Mylar Baggins Comic Book Shop
o Zenith City Pack 1
o Zenith City Pack 2
o Stretch Dude
o Bouncing Battle Baby
o Lobster Island
o Satellite Station
o The Game Master
o Cleric Marge
o Lady Milhouse
o Pirate Nelson
o Broken Dreams Storage Lockers w/Wall E. Weasel
o Palm Springfield Resort w/Hugh Jass
o Bart's Moon Mansion
o Captain Blips Zapateria
o Springfield Multicultural Center
o Arcade Cabinets
o Arcade Cabinets Wall
o Malibu Stacy Cart w/Strawberry
______________________________________
Wiki: https://simpsonswiki.com/wiki/The_Simpsons:_Tapped_Out_Fore!_content_update
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/c/kclovesgaming
Cars and items on Roads
YouTube video: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=oEb2q1_KUpY
Reddit posting: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/rqiuol/unlocking_locked_tiles_if_you_take_something_out/
Other Posts:
General game info: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/ygqpea/tapped_out_game_info/
Mayhem ID post: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/irxs3k/why_you_need_your_mayhem_id_now/
Tips for increasing bonus: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/nwqjmi/my_tips_for_increasing_bonus_and_farming/
Modpost please read https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/um35jp/repeat_posts_please_read_before_making_a_new_post/
New tasks: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/s9gnfy/tasks_recently_added/
Here is a list of the best things in the yearbook by goal: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/oir6a7/best_items_in_yearbook_by_goal/
here is a list of items with bonus in yearbook: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/ukni46/items_in_yearbook_with_bonus_letter_is_column/
PSA about sites that charge: https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/p3n2ps/beware_offers_of_game_currency_or_items_sent_by/
https://www.reddit.com/tappedout/comments/jf24dc/beware_the_paid_hack_discord/
Be wary of anyone who contacts you by dm or chat to join a discord or subreddit giving free donuts and items from the game or charging for these services. New ones are inexperienced and can break your town and cannot fix it and do not care.
Anyone who is selling items or donuts cash etc for this game are usually New to hacking games and so are inexperienced.
They are also in a hurry because they want to make more money. This means they will sell you whatever you want and do not care if it will break your town.
There are many items in this game that will destroy your town if placed in at the wrong time or too many of them etc. Please just be careful.

I successfully lost about 30lbs a year ago, using a lot of help from this board. Then, I had a really tough semester of grad school, coming into it after a surgery and losing a beloved family member. I used eating to cope with my stress -- I realize now it became the one regular thing I did that brought me happiness, or felt comforting. Now, I'm coming out of the daze that was the last 5 months and I see that I've regained back almost all of the weight I've lost. I feel sad, and embarrassed to be seen by the people who saw me lose the weight in the first place.
Most of all, I feel like my compulsive eating has gone into a full disorder. I recognize that the compulsion to eat large amounts of food can totally overwhelm me right now, and that I'm thinking about food in a really unhealthy way. A couple of weeks ago I started using a workbook for binge eating that's actually been really helpful -- but it also says that the first step is to let go of the desire to diet and lose weight. After stepping on the scale this morning, I'm finding it really hard to let go of. In the back of my mind I know that no matter what, I want to lose weight. But the last few times I've tried to get started with CICO again I've failed spectacularly. So I guess healing the BED has to come first?
In the meantime, I feel sad and humiliated. I have to go back out and get larger pants again. I have to show up at a huge family/friends event in a couple of weeks nearly back at my old size, after a year of everyone telling me how good I looked because of all the weight I lost. I know these things take time and statistically, it makes sense I regained the weight. But losing about 30lbs in 4 months last year made me feel invincible and so happy. I don't know why I can't just get myself to do it again. But I'm trying to tell myself that my mental health has to lead my physical health. Taking care of my BED just seems like it has to come before trying to force myself back into a CICO box. And in the meantime, I'll also try to make healthier choices, get the gym back into my routine, and try to be kinder to myself.

I (28F) have 2 children (4 & 3) and live with family after getting divorced last year. My mom (52) has always been mentally and emotionally abusive and unstable. She has severe anxiety and depression and has been struggling with that her whole life.
I work full time and my mother and ex-MIL watch my kids depending on my custody schedule. Recently, my mother and I got into a verbal argument and things escalated enough for her to hit me in front of my 4 year old. I did hit her back, which I've since apologized to my child for doing. "It's not okay to hit people or speak the way I did to someone, mama made a mistake"
I immediately called my boyfriend and left, bringing my kids with me and we stayed at his place until my kids' father picked them up 2 days later.
My mom is my only source of childcare right now. I'm lost as to what to do in this situation. I've always dealt with the emotional abuse from her, but this is the first time she's gotten physical. I don't want my children to think it's okay, I don't want her taking care of them (not that I'm worried she'll hurt them). I'm at a loss and just need advice or input or support.

When my boyfriend does something loving, then I feel super duper in love, connected, in awe of him, like we will be together forever, etc.
But as soon as our relationship goes stale or a bit distant (due to normal things like stress and simply being preoccupied with other things in life), then I immediately panic internally and assume something is wrong. Instead of assuming the best, I assume the worst: "He grew tired of me. He must think I'm unattractive. He doesn't care about this relationship." and even sometimes going as far as: "He must have found someone new."
It's been three years, and I'm still struggling with this toxic cycle constantly (this is my first real relationship). And it's all manufactured by me. My mom tells me "You need to start focusing on your own life outside of the relationship. Stop making your boyfriend your #1 priority in life. You need to take care of yourself first." Which is good advice, but like... how??!? These feelings are so intense that I don't know how to stop focusing so much energy on my relationship. I still think about him constantly. How do I just... let go, shut off the thoughts, stop worrying how he feels about me 24/7? How do I calm myself during the normal ebbs and flows of a long-term relationship and not panic when things between us aren't all flirty and lovey-dovey?

Sorry if this is long, but for some background, our daughter (1.5 y/o) has been under my mother in laws care since she was 3mo. My MIL has to be out of the country to care for a ill family member for 3 months and I do not have family in the state I live in to take over her care. We found a daycare that had openings on a short notice, which was about two months in advance. We tried many other places but they didn’t have any space for her age range. When we found the daycare, we took a tour and received information about the daycare, daily activities, and they answered all my questions.
Fast forward to getting my daughters stuff together for the first day, my partner and I went back and forth about whether or not they provided lunch (they told us this during the tour). So we called on 3 separate occasions and got different answers. When I dropped off my daughters medical paperwork, I asked for a handbook because we never received one and they gave me an old one from 2019 (pre-pandemic) and said they didn’t change much which is hard to believe. They then said they would give me an updated one on her first day. There was also confusion about the date her first day, which is a whole longer story.
This morning I carried her from the car to the front and they didn’t even ask me who she as until I mentioned it was her first day. The staff holding the door said I need to drop her off in the hallway. I told the staff I had other things in the car to bring in for her (box of diapers, wipes, breakfast, lunch, snacks, etc). When I brought in the final bag they had already taken my daughter back to her classroom and the person holding the door open kind of rushed me out. I didn’t get to say goodbye on her first day. Or take her picture, give her a hug, anything. I immediately sat in my car and cried. I had no way in the moment to communicate how frustrated I was so I left for work and called my partner for support.
Thankfully my boss is incredible and gave me the morning to figure things out. I called the daycare and asked to schedule a time to meet with her teacher and I will be heading there shortly. I’m considering taking her out because my experience was beyond unacceptable. I don’t feel like I can trust them. I’m pretty sure this type of situation qualifies for FMLA if needed, which I’m okay with, but I was hoping to get her the socialization she needs.
What would you do on my situation?