Copperstate glass and mirror

I’m not sure what to do about what the tittle says. I was driving back home on a narrow street, there was a big truck to my right and a big truck to my left but I was too close to the truck on the right that i ended up breaking their side mirror and mine as well. I was gonna pull over but this street is always so busy so i kept going and was freaking out as i did. this is the first time i’ve ever gotten in an accident and i’m really scared. I’m a new driver and i honestly feel really bad about what i did and that I didn’t go back. I called my dad to let him know and he didn’t sound worried but now we have to fix it…
i’m not sure what to do or if i should go back.

bought 1 helmet, was the wrong size and couldnt return it, trying to sell it now. bought 2nd helmet, right size, but my glasses are extremely difficult to fit and hurt my head/ears area after awhile. really trying to avoid a 3rd helmet, or the flyingeyes glasses.
is there anything i can do besides just getting a different helmet or glasses?

I have loved my H800s for the last decade, several of them, but always my go-to. I wear glasses and over ears apply pressure to the arms and hurt if used for too long (gaming!). Is there going to be a comparable replacement? Has anyone found on-ear that work as well? So disappointed to learn they're discontinued. :( Hope everyones havin a great day!

My partner and I live in an apartment complex. A new neighbor directly bellow moved and the pipes smelled so bad I mad a maintenance request. Shortly after she moved in she called the management on us and the police for noise. After several visits by the police our property manager called a meeting in person with me and her. She admitted to hallucinations. She has called the police and property management on us when we weren't even home. Side note, the neighbor prior never complained about us.
Well now she is leaving crushed herbs, tobacco, broken glass and quarts, and black salt at our door step.
What can I do?

I will start things off by saying that I am talking about the role of the companions in a story sense, not discussing their gameplay. It is undeniable that some aspects of the new companion system need to be tweaked. Many have lamented how unwieldy it is to have to run up to each companion in the heat of battle to make use of their abilities. But this post is about how important and amazing this new system is for the story of the series, and why it should no go away any time soon.
Hyrule's Incompetent Races:
The Zelda series has always been about one thing at its core: the eternal struggle between the recurring representations of the three pieces of the Triforce. Link, the Triforce of Courage, must rise up from humble beginnings to defeat Ganon, the Triforce of Power, with help from Zelda, the Triforce of Wisdom. Link is the hero, and he must be the one to save the day. To save all of Hyrule. In the beginning, this was all very simple. Aside from occasional encounters with old men in caves or random NPCs in towns, the only characters of note were Link, Zelda, and Ganon. But when the series jumped into 3D, things changed.
Hyrule was now full of a variety of different races, and in order to show the true threat Ganon posed to the world, each one was afflicted with some sort of dilemma. Link was again, the hero who had to save these disparate people and then defeat Ganon himself. The unfortunate consequence of this sort of design is that it made the races of Hyrule out to be incompetent, and unable to continue on living without the intervention of the almighty Link. See, unlike the Hylians, who have their own heroes represented by characters like Link and Zelda, these races were entirely separate, and generally seemed to exist solely to need saving. In spite of their unique attributes that would seemingly give them an edge over Hylians in certain situations, they spectacularly failed to solve any problem that occurred.
In Ocarina of Time, this served to make some of them look utterly helpless and a bit stupid. Who could forget the might Gorons, able to lift the heaviest objects and chew through rocks...about to die of starvation because Ganondorf dropped a boulder over their favorite cave? Or the water-dwelling Zora, an old and wise people who are at home on both land and water...unable to locate the bottle their missing princess had left for them at the bottom of a lake? The incompetence on display is even played for laughs on some occasions, like having to watch the lazy king of the Zora slowly scoot his ass cheeks to the side so Link can go save his daughter.
And this sort of thing continued throughout the series. Every time any of these races appeared, they had a problem that needed fixing. They couldn't do it on their own, so Link comes along to single handedly save their race from extinction.
Previous Attempts at Addressing the Issue:
That's not to say they never attempted to make these races more active. In OoT, the goal of the five temples of the game is to awaken sages: champions of each race who will go on to support Link in his quest. The only issue is, they don't really do anything. Each sage has a pattern. You go to their home and hear from someone that they went off to solve the issue on their own. Entering the temple, you encounter the sage if you're lucky, and otherwise you simply see them all in the Sacred Realm after defeating their associated boss. They awaken as sages, give Link a representative medallion, and then fade into the background until the end of the game where, with their powers combined...they build a bridge. Then they seal Ganon away after Link has defeated him. In fact, the lack of any appearance by each sage after they enter their temples has led to a common theory that the sages actually die. We see Darunia go after Volvagia on his own and then disappear. We hear that Saria and Impa went to their respective temples but we don't hear from them until the Sacred Realm.
In Majora's Mask, you actually play as a few different races. Only, you aren't actually playing as characters of these races. You are Link, inhabiting their bodies to basically do their job better. The Deku Scrubs are not seen as fighters and are pushed around by everyone. But Deku Link navigates the Woodfall Temple and defeats Odolwa. Darmani died trying to stop the blizzard affecting his home, but Goron Link does it just fine. Mikau dies trying to get the Zora's eggs back, but Zora Link can do it. Again, Link is the hero. He is the reincarnated wielder of the Triforce of courage. Only he can accomplish anything of note, even if he has to take on other forms to do so.
The Wind Waker has Link go through the game's two temples with Medli of the Rito and Makar of the Koroks acting as his actual companions. With their help, he is able to solve various puzzles, with Medli having a reflective harp and Makar planting seeds. The two can even be controlled using the command melody. This is closest the series came up to that point of giving the non-Hylian races more agency. After all, in this same game, Link's life is saved by the Rito and Valoo. Unfortunately, things still aren't perfect. Medli and Makar are more sort of escorted through their temples, unable to fight and often having to be literally carried through rooms. Once Link gets his own mirror shield Medli quickly loses much of her unique utility, and a whole segment of the Wind Temple is dedicated to saving Makar who has been kidnapped. The command melody is also explained by the King of Red Lions to be Link straight up controlling his companions so that they do what they need to do, implying that the two cannot figure out "Stand in this light" or "plant seeds here" without Link literally taking over their minds.
And that brings us to Breath of the Wild. Simultaneously the best and most disappointing effort up to that point. Positives first. This game's backstory is about Link and Zelda teaming up with four Champions: representatives of the best their respective races have to offer. They are all competent warriors and play a pivotal role in the plan to defeat the Calamity. In the present day, Link teams up with different members of these races, and it is with their help that he is able to board the Divine Beasts. Only through Sidon's fast swimming, Teba's aerial maneuverability, Yunobo's resilience, and Riju's Thunder Helm, is Link able to gain access to this game's dungeons. Once inside, Link frees the spirits of the Champions of old and gains their abilities to use on the rest of his journey.
How about those negatives, though? For starters, all of the Champions are dead when the game starts. They may be paragons of their respective races, but they have no chance against the Blights that face them. No way could Mipha, a Zora, stand up against an enemy who wields water. Daruk, a Goron, is clearly cooked when facing a fiery opponent. Urbosa, wielder of lightning, seems to be not so lightning-proof herself. And Revali, master of the wind, can't stand up to tornadoes. Not like our boy Link here, who beats them all with ease. Next, the problems facing most of the races in this game are somewhat laughable. Sure, the Zora can't touch shock arrows, but the rest? You mean the Gerudo race of powerful warrior women can't storm the Yiga stronghold to get their Thunder Helm back? The Gorons who are mighty and can stand against any kind of heat can't get close to Rudania and no one but Bludo can use his cannons because...he's the boss? The Rito, literal birds, cannot take out Vah Medoh's cannons without being hit, but Link, a dude with a paraglider, can handle them just fine?
Tears of the Kingdom Finally Shows Some Respect:
All of this preamble later, we now reach TotK and its companion system. From a starting perspective, things may seem to be business as usual. The different races have problems caused by Ganon, and Link must show up to help them. But the differences are very apparent. For starters, the problems are much more believably bad and difficult to handle. The Zora's water is poisoned with sludge that is literally suffocating them. The Rito's home is being buried in a blizzard. The Gorons are straight up mind controlled. And the Gerudo are facing down a never-before-seen enemy that has them on their back foot as they try to keep their civilians safe.
We also see that, unlike in most other cases, the races are already working to solve their own problems before Link arrives. Sidon is manually separating the sludge from the water while healers tend to Zora wounds and researchers try to find some answer to stopping the sludge. The Rito adults are all out of their village searching for food and investigating the source of the blizzard. The Gerudo are actively investigating ways to harm their new foes, and their chief is practicing her new ability that is the only one to show any signs of effectiveness. And the only ones not actively solving their problems, the Gorons, are doing so because their minds are taken over and forcing them to be apathetic.
Another great thing that helps mix up the monotonous formula of Link being the only one able to help all of Hyrule, is that the completion of each temple and solving of each race's problem leads to each of those races aiding the Hylians in turn. Each race sends out representatives to reinforce the Hylian base of operations, and they start performing tasks only they can achieve to aid in the untangling of the problems caused by the upheaval.
But all this leads to the single greatest thing this game does in this regard. Now, each race Link saves is not saved alone. Link instead teams up with representatives of each race and they solve their problems together, providing Link with support that makes an otherwise impossible task possible. They lend him their unique abilities and fight alongside him to defeat any threat that comes their way. When they awaken as sages, they use their power to stay by his side at all times rather than fading into the background. And when the time comes, they fight Ganondorf right alongside Link.
Hyrule is always facing crises, but usually this tends to paint most of Hyrule as helpless civilians with only two heroes in the entire kingdom who can do anything about it. Rather than Ganon endangering Hyrule and Hyrule fighting back, it's more like Ganondorf endangers Hyrule and they call their dad to come beat him up. Here though, in TotK, for the first time, Hyrule truly does fight back. Hyrule's diverse and capable races bring their unique skills to bear in order to defeat the greatest threat they have known, and as a result the world feels more alive and worth fighting for than it ever has before. I hope the companion system does not disappear in the next game, and is instead expanded upon. Because after this, I really can't go back to the way things were.

Obligatory sorry for formatting on my stupid phone. Sorry for poor grammar and spelling but I don't care rn I gotta get it out. I'm an autistic parent To two wonderful kids. One is NT one is ADHD (mid diagnosis stage). And there is no support for me but my NT husband is tries. No one knows what it's like to be stuck in my snowglobe. I'm trapped in here and I can't parent properly when it's too loud and too bright and it makes my skin and teeth hurt. But I'm supposed to teach tiny humans how to human? We didn't know I was ND until after baby #2. We knew I had c-PTSD, but the rest got progressively worse over time, maybe not even worse just more noticable to others and to myself as my every day life changed. I am so alone. I am so dependent on my spouse. We also have an open relationship \ into bdsm activities and those safe spaces seem to be some of the only safe spaces for us there too. (maybe not my state but where the classy bits happen, we're not circus side shows please educate yourself). But again Alone. My self titled Snowglobe Syndrome I'm in a life size snowglobe. It's literally fuzzy and you can't see well through the glass. You can recognize your significant others but you can't hear what they're saying and they can't hear you or notice your movements or gestures. Whole in the snowglobe there's a P.A. system circa 1989 from any given public school, and all you can hear is the teacher from Charlie Brown. Simultaneously while that's going on you can also hear whatever music is bumping so loud the glass to your stupid little cage is rattling. You can't touch anyone, you can't hug, you can scream and touch the glass but it will only make you more tired. Sleeping is easiest.

Background
I’m 45 years old and have been wearing glasses for myopia since around age 10.
Latest Exam
I had a Comprehensive Eye Exam on April 20 2023 including eye dilation and 3D imaging. Eye health was good. However my myopia had progressed since my previous exam. I was given the following prescription:
OD SPH -4.25 CYL -1.00 Axis 055 Add +1.25 OS SPH -4.75 CYL -0.50 Axis 080 Add +1.25
Research
While waiting for my new glasses from the lab I decided to direct my frustration regarding the continued degradation of my vision into something positive and started researching where natural vision improvement research was at. I had tried it in the past with things like palming and print pushing with some success so I knew it was possible to improve my vision to some degree.
I came across this subreddit and read posts and the wiki by u/glennchan about the reduced lens method and thought it sounded like a good way to incorporate the same principle behind print pushing into my daily routine while at work. I also brushed up on the Bates method and decided to include some of his relaxation techniques in my daily routine.
Implementation
04/30/23 I began putting all this research into practice. I didn’t have reduced lenses to wear at work yet so I grabbed a pair of +1.00 reading glasses and wore them over my prescription glasses (these were for my previous prescription since I was still trying to get used to my new prescription and putting + lenses over them felt really off). This wasn’t particularly comfortable but it effectively reduced my correction so I wasn’t overminused for close up. I wouldn’t recommend doing this, not only is wearing two pairs of glasses over each other ridiculous looking and heavy, it also creates some weird focal plane issues and unnecessary glare. But it was what I had to work with at the time so I went with it.
I also stopped wearing any glasses whenever possible. Whereas before I would have put my glasses on as I got out of bed, now I only put glasses on after doing my morning routine which includes 10 or 15 minutes of reading. I also try to go for a 30-60 minute walk with my wife every day and I don’t wear my glasses for that either.
I do my best to incorporate various eye relaxation techniques throughout the day. These include the 20-20-20 rule which I don’t follow religiously. And if my eyes are ever feeling especially tired I will palm for a few minutes. Besides that I take long blinks while working any time I feel a slight strain on my eyes. When looking into the distance either during walks or looking out a window I also alternate between the same long blinks and challenging my eyes to see something in the distance clearer.
Results
I began measuring my progress on both the Snellen chart and centimeters to blur during the first week. The first Snellen measurement was just barely being able to read the 20/400 line and the first cm measurement was 21.
05/09/23 I measured at 24cm and returned to the optometrist because my new prescription glasses were giving me severe eye pain and was reassessed at:
OD SPH -4.00 CYL -1.00 Axis 055 Add +1.25 OS SPH -4.50 CYL -0.50 Axis 080 Add +1.25
05/11/23 I could now read the 20/200 line on the Snellen chart.
05/15/23 I measured at 25cm to blur.
05/23/23 my new near work glasses arrived from an online retailer. I wanted to even out my eyes and get rid of the cylinder distortion so these are -2.50 diopters in both eyes with no astigmatism correction. This was a bit too aggressive of a reduction so I’ve been working through a bit more blur than I would prefer.
05/25/23 I measured 26.5cm to blur and picked up my updated prescription glasses and they were unbearably strong for anything other than a few minutes of looking way into the distance. I measured 20/10 on the Snellen with them on.
05/29/23 27cm to blur and can now read the 20/100 line on the Snellen in full sun with no glasses.
05/30/23 27.5cm to blur and can just barely read the 20/70 line on the Snellen in full sun. I can also read the 20/40 line with my -2.5 glasses on. And my previous prescription glasses which were at 20/40 when I started this journey I can now see the 20/15 line crystal clear.
So that’s the progress I’ve made over the first 30 days of trying to improve my distance vision. To be clear this improvement has not been linear. All of the dates in between the milestones I listed were down days where cm to blur was lower and/or I could not read the Snellen chart as well as before. It’s a lot like working out at the gym. Some days you’re stronger, some days you’re weaker. That’s why keeping a diary of your measurements is so important to see if you’re making progress overall.
Problems/Issues Experienced
Probably the biggest downside is that I bought $500 glasses from my optometrist a month ago that I no longer need.
Second to that is the unnecessary blur I’m working through with my near work glasses. I think I may end up getting a slightly stronger pair at the same time that I order a new distance pair to make my work a little more comfortable until I can reduce further. In the end this isn’t wasted money because if I continue to see improvement I will eventually move into those glasses for distance anyway.
Lastly, I’m definitely guilty of overdoing it at times and experiencing some pain, redness and excessively tired eyes. From what I’m told by other people that are further along on the journey this is basically because I reduced too quickly so if you want to try this yourself do try to take it slower than I have so far.
Is this some kind of scam? What are you selling?
This is just a journal of my personal experience trying to improve my vision. I'm not selling anything or endorsing any particular method. I've cobbled together what I'm using in this attempt from various sources that are freely available on the internet ranging from anecdotal personal stories like mine to extensive scientific research conducted by renowned Ophthalmologists.
If you want to try this yourself do your research and be aware it's entirely possible this experiment could do you more harm than good. If you can't take responsibility for your own actions or have no common sense then don't do it.

So this has been happening to me since middle school, for reference I am going into college now. The thought of myself being naked in front of someone makes me feel so sick to my stomach. Even when I’m just trying to look in the mirror and feel confident suddenly I get sick . I tried this body suit on today and overall I thought I liked how it looked, then suddenly the nauseating feeling came around again. I’ve always struggled with self esteem issues and I don’t know why because deep down I realize I look fine but I just hate myself so much sometimes and I don’t get it. Does anyone have any advice or help with this….

I am nearsighted, so stuff far are very blurry, but stuff close are clear, I can barley read a license plate like 4 feet away from my without me glasses.
But when I stretch the skin near my eyes, I am able to see PERFECT without glasses, how come? Its very weird and I would really like to know why this happens.
for some reason, this post with this question is always being removed in the sub NoStupidQuestions

The Legendary Hero is Dead!

• Episode 7

Dub Available Now on Crunchyroll!
---
Synopsis:

In a world of monsters and magic, Sion, the local hero, is on his way to save the world from demons. Well, that was the plan until he fell into a pit dug by a sleazy villager, Touka, and died! After hiding the accident, Touka goes to bed as usual but wakes up feeling…different. Somehow he’s in Sion’s body! Now, the fate of the world is in his hands. What could go wrong?

Cast

• Touka voiced by Ricco Fajardo
• Sion voiced by Justin Briner
• Yuna voiced by Alexis Tipton
• Anri voiced by Michelle Rojas
• Kyle voiced by Bradley Garet
• Ethel voiced by Caitlin Glass

Crew

• ADR Director: Shawn Gann
• Assistant ADR Directors: Sara Ragsdale, Michael Stimac, Marcus Stimac
• Lead ADR Engineer: Zachary Davis
• Assistant ADR Engineer: Katie Saltkill
• ADR Script Writer: Clayton Browning
• ADR Script Supervisor: Jarrod Greene
• ADR Prep: Ry McKeand

I installed a Quietcool whole house fan, and I love it.
I also replaced a lot of my bathroom fans with Panasonic Whisperquiet fans.
Then there are the miscellaneous fans like the stove vent hood, and such.
Usually I open a sliding glass door, and some windows to ensure there is enough airflow in the house.
​
While running the big whole house fan, should I turn off the smaller bathroom fans? I guess my theory here is that the bigger fan might pull against the bathroom fans and cause them undo stress. If you know anything about the Whisperquiet fans, they aint cheap.
The whisperquiet fans are motion and humidity controlled, so they come on whenever they are triggered.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/V9aNAKM
- Payment Methods That I Accept: PayPal Friends and Family, Zelle, or Venmo Friends Payments.
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//////////////////////// ITEM(S): ////////////////////////
- Additional Pics of BCM+Aero+BRT 5.56 Suppressed Tuned Upper - 11.5": Around 100 Rounds of use on the uppebarrel. The BCG has seen around 200 Rounds.
This is the nicest 11.5 upper I have ever shot, very accurate and gassed to perfection.
Tip to Butt on the Upper: Surefire CTN 5.56 Flash Hider, JP Enterprises Double Crush Washer, Black River Tactical Optimum Chrome-Lined 1/7 11.5" Car-Gas Barrel, Black River Tactical 0.073" EZ Tune Gas Tube, Black River Tactical .750 Gas Block (Pinned), BCM MCMR-10 Handguard, Troy M4 Fixed Front Sight, Impact Weapons Components M-Lok Sling Mount, Haley Strategic Picatinny Sling Mount, Aero Precision AR15 Forged Upper Receiver, HM Defense Reinforced Cam Pin Hole AR15 BCG (Nitride), Radian Raptor CH, and Daniel Defense Fixed Rear Sight.
Assembly Notes: Gas block pinning done by Black River Tactical, barrel nut is installed to BCM's torque specs with Aeroshell 33 Anti-Seize Compound. Surefire CTN Flash Hider is neutral timed with Aeroshell 33 Anti-Seize Compound (wipes off with a rag or brush if you don't know what this stuff is... you should, however). Loctite is on the screws of the crossbolts of the handguard, both iron sights, sling mounts, as well as the set screws on the gas block.
Gas Tuning Notes: Even though Black River Tactical sells their 11.5" Optimum gassed barrels claiming they are gassed well for suppressor use, I noticed that they were still overgassed. I worked my way up in BRT sizes up to 0.069" which gave me 100% reliability unsuppressed, then went up 1 size larger to 0.073" for to ensure absolute 100% reliability. I'll take the tiny bit of extra gas to make sure this would work in cold/adverse conditions.
Price Breakdown - Prices with strikethrough represent the price if you were to buy the item brand new, following that is what I am asking/Your Price:
Surefire CTN FH $155 $100 + Barrel with Gas Block Pinned $350 $280 + EZ Tune Gas Tube $65 $45 + BCM Handguard $172 $140 + Troy Front Sight $55 $40 + IWC M-Lok Sling Mount $18 $10 + Haley Pic Sling Mount $35 $22 + Aero Upper Receiver $70 $50 + HM Defense BCG $159.95 $80 + Radian Raptor CH $85 $65 + DD Rear Sight $98 $75
If bought new = $1,263 /// Your Total = $907 Shipped
- Additional Pics of Aimpoint CompM5 + UNITY Fast Mount with QD Lever: Great condition, just a touch of salt as seen in pics. Glass in perfect condition. Has seen 200 rounds of use.
Optic and Mount Sells for $909 New, QD Lever Sells for $33 New /// Your Total Price is $760 Shipped
- Additional Pics of Modlite PLHV2 18650 + Surefire TailCap Switch + Arisaka M-Lok Mount Light Setup: Good condition, has seen around 200-250 rounds of use on 2 different guns. No carbon buildup on the lens ever. Comes with 1 18650 Battery
Sells for $309 New, Your Price is $210 Shipped
- Additional Pics of Surefire Warcomp 5.56: Brand new, no box.
Sells for $140 New, Your Price is $110 Shipped
- Additional Pics of OD Green AR15 Furniture Kit: Used, all in good condition.
Not splitting for now.
If you buy this New, prices are: MVG $20 + K2 Grip $20 + Safety $17 + FCD Tube $78.00 = $135 Shipped /// Your Total Price is $90 Shipped
- Additional Pics of Law Tactical Folder Gen 3-M: Good condition, around less than 50 rounds of use. Comes with 2 of the installation wrenches and comes with POF Carbine Length Enhanced Receiver Extension and Impact Weapon Components QD Sling Mount Endplate installed.
Sells for $250 New, Your Price is $190 Shipped
- Additional Pics of Geissele Super 42 H1 Buffer and Spring: Good condition, less than 100 rounds. For carbine length tubes.
Sells for $72 New, Your Price is $50 Shipped

I am nearsighted, so stuff far are very blurry, but stuff close are clear, I can barley read a license plate like 4 feet away from me without me glasses.
But when I stretch the skin near my eyes, I am able to see PERFECT without glasses, how come? Its very weird and I would really like to know why this happens.

I want to blanket address some of the complete idiocy I've been seeing in comments regarding the balance status of BW and whether or not Terran is, in fact, the strongest race.
1 Why would the game be perfectly balanced in the first place?
Starcraft is a game of incomplete information where players select one of 3 optional races which have totally unique and distinct units and mechanics from one another. The game has not been patched for literal decades and launched esports as we know it. It's an incredibly deep and interesting game that is challenging on all levels and super fun to spectate and play. I could say great things about Brood War all day but I want to ask anyone who begins here (the game is perfectly balanced and all disparities in tournament results recorded between the races are the exclusive result of "skill issues") by default to answer what makes them certain that a game with such prominent uniqueness should result in complete and total balance? In game development true uniqueness always comes at the cost of balance which can only be achieved in a perfect mirror matchup, almost by definition. It is my view that if anything is different between the races that is substantive at all, the races will be unbalanced. And that's okay. You don't need perfectly balanced matchups for a great game, and you don't even need it for the weaker races/characters/factions to win. Much imbalance can be overcome by skill, and admitting that there's some imbalance in BW doesn't mean the game is unenjoyable or broken. But this is where I'm beginning from: clearly and definitively this game can not be perfectly balanced.
I haven't said anything about Terran yet but let's consider the following:
2 Would changing ANYTHING change the balance?
Currently many people claim the definitive tournament results achieved by progamers which overwhelmingly favour Terran in ASL (more wins and runner up finishes than Z and P put together) are exclusively the result of Terran players being stronger indiviudal performers, either because the best players all randonly chose Terran or because the most dedicated practicers all randonly chose Terran (and the other races' players just need to work harder). That is, considering the game as we know it, their opinion is genuinely that absolutely no results have anything to do with balance. Terran players win more because they are more skilled and that's, apparently, all there is to it. But let us now imagine the game as we know it were tweaked somehow. Say, adding 10% flat bonus damage to every single Protoss unit, or adding a new unit to Protoss. I don't know exactly what this would do to the game, but I do know one thing: it could ONLY result in Protoss' winrate in ASL improving. If we acknowledge that every single significant change one could make to BW would result in SOME difference in winrate SOMEWHERE and WITHOUT any change in player skill or dedication we can then wonder why this particular version of the game which yields the current winrates has nothing to do with balance and only concerns player skill. We can further wonder whether people would make these same arguments in an alternative reality where this change or that new unit has always been in the game:

protoss win the majority of ASLs because super arbiters become unstoppable after upgrading phase link? That's a skill issue. Don't let them get to phase link and Protoss players just work harder. X Terran player has a 64% winrate vs Protoss, it's irrelevant they haven't won an ASL. You have no "real" evidence super arbiters are overpowered

Etc, etc, etc. If all balance changes one could make would be represented within tournament with changing winrates, WITHOUT changing anything about player skill, we need to firmly ask why the current state of the game concerning overwhelming Terran dominance isn't clearly and obviously a balance issue.

1. If we know the game isn't perfectly balanced (because it basically can't be), who does the imbalance favour?

I've outlined why assuming the current version of BW has perfect matchup balance makes absolutely no sense, and if you're willing to accept that this basically must be the case then you also have to accept that in a situation with multiple layers of imbalance someone is going to come out ahead, overall. In BW who do the imbalances favour between Zerg, Terran, and Protoss? Do we have any way of knowing? Now we could spend all day talking about matchups and build orders and player skill and whatever else you think is important but what's actually important is raw winrate data. When it comes to ASL Terran wins or finishes 2nd more often than Zerg and Protoss put together and here's your smoking gun. In a multi-decade long meta game we've arrived at a position where one race outperforms the other two. We can't really argue that this game is perfectly balanced because there's no reason for that to be the case since the matchups are not mirrored which is what actual perfect balance looks like, so, we're left with:

who do the imbalances favour

And I'd suggest it's the race with the most wins and 2nds by far.
4 But ALL the good players just randomly picked Terran
This argument comes up in every balance discussion in every game matchup ever, and it's always stupid. There is simply no reason for a predominance of "skilled" players or dedicated players to choose one race if the game is perfectly balanced. There is however an incentive for dedicated progamers who invest their entire lives in esports and make their livings off of tournament results to choose the race or character that provides them the best possible opportunity to win. Playstyle is certainly a factor but if the best players are overwhelmingly selecting one race it's because the pool of players who choose to pursue the game professionally are concluding (independently of one another) that this race is their best investment. The results are in and Terran wins the most. It really shouldn't be controversial whatsoever to say that they're the strongest, but here we are. Thanks for reading.

Okay take a deep breath and clean ur glasses/lick your eyeballs cause this one is HEFTY.
All the Strangers is a campaign playable skirmish game based on Best Case Scenario + Luke Gearing's Violence + Laws of the Land Indoor Terrain Expansion + FIST + X-Com-Type Downtime.
The post contains everything needed to run the campaign, including 2 complete scenarios, character, map, and enemy generation, and supplemental aids like a downtime cheat sheet / combat tracker.
The Strangers are here.
People Upstairs don’t want anyone knowing about them.
Especially not us, the Pawns they send to kill and capture them.
Despite that, we know four things:

1. Each is entirely unique
2. Their biology is semi-human (no matter what they say, there's no hiding that from us)
3. We fascinate them. Our children, our praying.
4. Unless things change, we will not survive them

this might not make sense to anyone but me but i’ll try. how do you characterize or visualize each album?
tidal- an fresh wound, an early morning at the beach, young love and first heartbreaks
when the pawn…- staring at yourself in the mirror for hours on end, late nights alone, espresso, furious journaling
extraordinary machine- anger for the purpose of healing, waking up early in the morning to try to have a good day but things just don’t go your way, wearing clothes that don’t quite to together, early spring, green tea
the idler wheel- black coffee, anger for the sake of being angry, making and cancelling plans, ripped off and crumpled journal pages
ftbc - long nights with the two people you trust most, reading old diary entries, being alone but not feeling alone, black tea

Sent from the College of Winterhold to all associated scholarly institutions for debate and further review
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4E203, 31st of Second Seed, Winterhold
Syrabanic worship by the Snow Elves - An exploration of the legendary Eyes of the Falmer
By Jeberilie Laussac
In my recent years studying the snow elves in Skyrim I have stumbled upon a remarkable rumour: two exquisite gemstones have appeared from the province's black market called the Eyes of the Falmer. I have already written in previous works on the Tragedy of the Snow Elves, and the precious little we know about their culture. It took me many months to track down their origin, and many more to find the individuals who retrieved them from the Irkngthand ruins. Through some, monetary, persuasion I coaxed several drawings of the large statue they encountered in those caves.
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In the dark caves under the dwarven city of Irkngthand lies a large statue carrying staff and book. Styled after a Snow Elf from before the Night of Tears, its eyes made from large gleaming crystals.
Why did the Falmer who lived in this Dwemer city built it? Who was depicted by the statue? Why were specifically the Eyes given such great attention?
Why the eyes were given such attention might not be hard to surmise. Common theory proposes that after fleeing to the dwarven cities the snow elves were given a poisonous substance which rendered them sightless. Through the process and with time they were transformed into the blind Falmer that are encountered in Skyrim to this day. But is this statue a general lament to the loss of their sight, or is it a specific plea to a specific divine?
The same sources that retrieved the snow elven texts translated by Calcelmo in Markarth indicate that, like their Altmer cousins, the Falmer venerated several divines during their civilization and had a temple dedicated to them. The central figure being the King of the Aldmer, Auri-El; however, other divines are also indicated to have had temples dedicated to them: Trinimac, Phynaster, Jephre and Syrabane.
I propose the statue found in the caverns was built to worship none other than Syrabane ‘youngest’ of the eight.
The first aspect that must be explained is the contradiction this brings with Syrabane the historical figure: a mer who lived during the 22nd and 23rd century in the second era where they aided Bendu Olo in assembling the All Flags navy. Statues of him can be found on the island of Artaeum and outside the harbour of Gonfalon Bay in the Systres archipelago. This event supposedly gave Syrabane their place as the youngest of the divines, it occurred however two millennia after the fall of the ancient snow elves.
This suggests that the divine Syrabane the Snow Elves worshipped, during the late Merethic era and early first era, is likely not the result of the heroic efforts against the Sload made by the historically known Syrabane.
In addition, High Elven mages have also made imagery characterising them as female. One recorded example was a statue in the second era Altmer Embassy in Elden Root. This points to a diverse interpretation of the Warlock gods' appearance and deviates from a singular historical figure. There are however aspects that are attributed to the deity Syrabane that could shine a light on their worship in Snow Elven society.
Syrabane is commonly known as the Warlock god and has strong links to magic. Various magically created artefacts, often warding against danger, are attributed to him of which his Sacred Ring is the most well known. He is also invoked by apprentices, in situations of self reflection and is credited to have taught the Aldmer many secrets in enchanting and crafting practices.
More importantly for the connection to the ancient falmer however is his associations to sight and scrying. The scrying Order of the Eye invokes the ‘Sight of Syrabane’, and the Psijics that erected a statue to him are specialists in the same scrying arts.
Finally the attributes carried by the statue may also point into the direction of Syrabane. The statues that can be directly ascribed to the deity always hold a staff in one hand, and the other frequently holds a scroll. The Irknthand statue carries a staff in one hand and holds a book in the other, mirroring the known statues.
Though these more contemporary sources are not direct, the universal associations could also have been shared by the ancient snow elves.
If they were, it is understandable why Syrabane was chosen as the subject of the constructed statue in their desperate situation: a teacher whose wisdom could guide them in their trying times, who could give the the Sight to see without eyes and who could ward them against further curses and danger.

Hello my names Ryan I just got my xreal air glasses April 27th and as of June 1st they are not workingeverytime i plug them in i get a messge on my phone ir tablet that im connected to external monitor. But I get no picture in the glasses I have tried multiple type c wired that sapport video out so its nit the wire and the c9mpany takes forever to answer just spent 400 on these on a minimum wage salery not cheap.

If I had to pick an embarrassing moment which will haunt me until I die—it has to be the time I tried out for The Sunbeam cheer squad last year. I was a freshman, and I wanted community. Friends.
I heard the cheer squad were just an extra-curricular group rather than an actual majoring level class, so I figured I’d give them a shot. It’s not like I could ignore them.
On my first day when I was moving into my dorm room, I must have walked into the same girl three times. I am in strict belief that it is not possible for a human being to be permanently happy.
And yet that was her. She wandered around like the sun shone right out of her ass, and it was both endearing and terrifying.
The girl resembled the sun herself, a halo of golden curls held in a scrunchie and a flaunting sundress, matching ribbons wrapped around her. The Sunbeam Squad were easy to spot because they were all wearing insanely bright yellow—waving around gold streamers, ribbons tangled in their hair. They all spoke in insanely high pitched voices like they inhaled helium for a living, but that must have been their shtick, right? It was kind of cute. I wasn’t expecting such a welcome in the shape of guy’s and girl’s looking like they had just stepped off of ABC Kids. The girl who handed me a flyer and yelled in my face about school spirit was practically hopping up and down, a bright grin splitting her lips apart.
I nodded and smiled politely, stuffing the flyer in my bag and heading into my room to finish moving my stuff in. When I looked out of my window a few hours later, the Sunbeam squad was still threaded through the crowd, each of them wrapped in glittering fairy lights illuminated in the late evening sunset glow. Sunbeam. Yeah, I got it, but it was still kinda overkill. They were starting to remind me of a cult.
That, however, didn’t stop me trying out. I’m fairly athletic, and they were exactly what I wanted. I’ve never had a group of people I could call friends.
Though it’s not like I could blame anyone but myself. I was a shut-in for most of high school. I either worked or preferred my own company in my room. One of my biggest regrets is pushing people away, friends I wanted to get even closer to. Because now they had built these lifelong friendships and relationships, and I was stuck at 18 years old with nobody but childhood friends I spoke to once a year when we sent mutual holiday greetings to each other. But college could change that.
At least, that’s what I hoped. I spoke to as many people as possible on my first day—and in my head I was making them. Slowly but surely I was actually making friends in my classes I wanted to hang out with.
Sunbeam were my attempt to go even further and join a club. Through word of mouth in my first few weeks of classes, I learned they were more of an extra-curricular group for fun.
They didn’t cheer competitively and had been formed in the mid-90’s by some kids who wanted to make a community out of positivity and school spirit. Sunbeam had a reputation for being Watson State student body’s beacons—and their team’s good luck charm. It was well known across campus that the squad was the reason behind the college’s fortune.
It had been like that since they formed 30 years ago, with members through the generations carrying out that pledge to spread as much pep as possible. While I say that they seemed nice judging from what I heard from others, they weren’t exactly the easiest clique to get into. Unless you were on the squad.
I saw them around campus between classes. They always moved as a group, the six of them with their arms wrapped around each other, brandishing the school colours. The guy’s in loose fitting varsity jackets, while the girl’s flaunted cheer skirts.
The way they acted was a little too close, like they were more than friends—and community and friendship had bled into something else. Like they had just walked out of an early 2000’s teen movie. Not that I was complaining. Their style was intriguing. They were like this untouchable group of god’s who had been placed on the highest pedestals. They ruled over campus, which made me want to get to know them even more. So, I tried out. Which was my first mistake of many in my freshman year.
It didn’t hit me that I was in way over my head until I was in the college gymnasium, standing in front of a four person panel like I was auditioning for a Hollywood movie. Sunbeam took their try-outs incredibly seriously. Which was weird considering they were known to be the complete opposite.
There were maybe fifty or so applicants, and we had to stand near the back wall and watch others try out one by one. Which was already setting off my anxiety. Weren’t they supposed to be closed try-outs? Initially, I was excited.
I had my routine in my head. What I had learned from watching the squad at my old school. High V, Low V, followed by a Touchdown, and then a backflip. I was confident. I mean, it ticked most cheer moves off, and even had a flip to complete the routine. My high school were a multi-sex quad, so I learned a lot from watching the guy’s moves during pep rallies.
I wasn’t really worried about the quality of the moves since they were known not to take everything too seriously. But watching the others try-out, impossible flips without crash mats and twisting their bodies in ways I didn’t know was possible, I quickly realised I was screwed. My competitors were acting like they were auditioning for an Olympic level team. My gut was dancing when I took centre stage.
The panel were made up of four members of the squad. Two boys and two girl’s, including the blonde who handed me the flyer on my first day. I was surprised when her eyes lit up with recognition.
"Oh, I know you!" She squeaked. Leaning forward, her smile seemed to brighten, illuminating her features. All four of them seemed to emanate a warm glow.
I felt myself relax slightly, the knot in my stomach loosening. Maybe their heightened positivity thing wasn’t a shtick, after all. The girl, as well as the other members of the team seemed genuinely happy to see me trying out. “What’s your name?” Her voice reverberated off of the walls, and I was suddenly aware of a dozen other students watching me.
“Alex.” I said, offering a shy wave. “Hey.”
Still grinning, she nudged a redhead next to her playfully. The guy was like no other I’d seen before. He was a god damn traffic light. He was easy to spot in a crowd and was usually one of the low-key members who kept his head down. All of those colours painting him, and yet somehow he wasn’t blinding people.
Though admittedly, he suited them; bright red hair clashing with the blue and gold of his football jersey, pasty skin and dark eyes drinking me in while the blonde girl pulled at his sleeve. “See, I told you annoying freshmen would work!”
In response, he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Evie.” The guy straightened up, leaning his chin on his fist, a curious spark in his eyes. “Alright.” Twisting around in his chair, he signalled for music. When it started, the beat slammed into me, rumbling under my feet. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”
I’m not going to describe my routine because I don’t have time to describe how fucking bad I was. In my head, I was doing okay. I was ready to finish with my back flip, but the music abruptly cut off and I found myself struggling to find my breath with my hands in the air, panting like an idiot. The blonde maintained her smile, but it was slightly strained. I could tell she was struggling to keep the façade of a Sunbeam member while also retaining critical thinking.
The redhead looked like he was in pain. He was first to speak, and I could tell by his sympathy smile I’d screwed up. The others who I hadn’t fully taken in until that moment, an asian American guy, and a girl with pigtails, were laughing like pre-schoolers. And they didn’t stop until the redhead shot them the warning eyes.
Weirdly enough, the crowd of onlookers didn’t join in. I expected the redhead to politely tell me I sucked, but instead he cocked his head, chewing on his pen. “You’re good.” He said. “You’re a good dancer, and I liked your moves…”
He trailed off. “But it’s positivity we’re looking for. And you didn’t smile once through your whole routine which made you look stiff. Like you weren’t even enjoying it.” He shrugged helplessly. “I like you, and I like your dancing. And I’m sure you could be better if you worked on it. There are countless dancing clubs here, so maybe you might be better fitted there.” After exchanging a look with the blonde, he sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re not the type of person we’re looking for.”
Evie nodded. “I agree. We pride ourselves on staying positive and smiling. I didn’t see that on you, Alex.”
“Same here.” Pigtails, still giggling, joined in. “I don’t think you’ve got enough school spirit.”
The other guy scoffed. He looked to be of Korean descent. Unlike the redhead, he was always at the centre of their group, always joking around and laughing. Just looking at him told me he was the leader. “Bullshit!” He slapped the table with one hand, running his hands through thick dark hair with the other. “I liked it. Fuck pep, amirite?” He threw his pen at the blonde, who retaliated in a squeak, lobbing hers at him. “Ignore these clowns. I think you’ve got what it takes. We just gotta work on you, y’know? All you’re missing is a cheesy grin.”
He pointed to himself, stretching his lips into the widest smile he could muster. “See? Like this.”
“Clowns?” Evie shook her head. “I didn’t see one smile. Sunbeam is all about smiling!”
“You make us sound like a cult.” The Korean-American caught my eye. “Which we’re not, by the way. These guys are just scared of change.”
“Okay, that’s too far.” Pigtails shot him a scowl. Are you seriously disrespecting the alumni who created us? Who birthed us?
“Well, yeah!” He threw his paper at her. “Sunbeam is a pep cult. We get high off of happiness. I thought we distinguished that.”
“Take that back!”
“Never! Why do you think I joined? To get high! Do you really think I joined for the cheering?”
They were joking around. I could tell by the smiles on their faces—a smile I knew I would never be able to mimic.
“Quiet.” The redhead shushed them. The guy had been sitting silently. Studying me. He leaned back, folding his arms.
“See, even now—even when I’m considering giving you a chance, there’s no hope in your eyes. Not even a glitter of excitement. You’re still not smiling and that’s what we want, Alex. We want people who will embody what Sunbeam is all about. Even if I give you a second chance to brighten up your routine your smile will be fake. And that’s not what we want. We want people who are willing to shed their humanity and become beacons.”
Beacons, huh?
And they were seriously saying they weren’t a cult?
The redhead stabbed at his sheet of paper with the end of his pen. “Can’t you just give us one smile? It won’t kill you.”
It was then when the others watching started to laugh—and I wanted to punch the asshole in the face.
“Dude, chill.” The Korean-American played with his pen, twirling it between two fingers. “He’s right, as much as I hate saying it. We do need smilers, unfortunately. But hey, you can try out next year! Just remember to smile, alright?” He threw something at me. A squashed candy bar.
Which made me look even more pathetic.
I found myself nodding, even when I knew it was all bullshit. Still though, what each member had told me hit me harder than it should have. They were just words, what could they do? It turned out, words were far more powerful than I realised—I just didn’t know it yet. I didn’t wait for the others to speak and made a quick getaway, my gut twisting and turning.
They were a cult. That is what I decided. These guys were a cult who needed members willing to throw away their souls. Probably for ritualistic sacrifice.
They needed weak people, I thought. Even when part of me knew they were right. I wasn't a smiler. Every photo I'm in, I'm either frowning or look constipated. Still though, I didn't dwell on the try-outs for too long. By the time a week had gone by, I had mostly forgotten about it and threw myself into my studies and college life.
Though something was wrong with me. It was as if the world had slowed down, had stopped making sense completely. Every day felt like a dream, and I myself felt like I was a ghost, like I was disassociating from my own body. Conversations with people felt fake. Like I was making them up.
I remember waking up day after day in a daze I couldn’t get myself out of. It was only several weeks later did the thick mind fog which had been blanketing my brain finally lift—only for me to hear the news that all six members of the Sunbeam squad had disappeared. I don’t know how I didn’t notice, how I didn’t see the police investigation, or hear rumours being spread around like wildfire.
According to the college, it wasn't technically considered a disappearance since the members were all over eighteen, no longer minors. However, an investigation was conducted, with a statement being released that they were due to be performing at Knoxville College, cheering on our football team. But they never turned up. And what made it worse, was their bus was found abandoned on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Sounds bad, right?
Well, that's what we all thought. Vigils were already being held, and bodies weren't even found yet. Every time I walked back to my dorm after classes, the night would be lit up in warm golden light, candles flickering in the breeze. I'm not sure how many days had gone by-- they all seemed to blur into one-- when our college made another statement. The members of the Sunbeam squad were alive and healthy and had been sent to a training academy for professionals.
When the student body responded with confusion and scepticism, the college reassured us they were coming back once they were finished training. And while my classmates were relieved, I found myself confused. Sunbeam didn't cheer competitively. Their whole thing was that all they wanted to do was spread cheer and pep, regardless of how good they were. I had seen them perform, and they were good, sure. They were better than average. But definitely not good enough to be trained into pro’s. Their moves were too clumsy, too half assed—which I was convinced they thought overwhelming amounts of positivity could fix. So it didn’t make sense that they had been sent to some training academy. I kept up my scepticism until I saw them for myself.
The college were right. Sunbeam returned a week later like nothing had happened.
I did see a change in them. I think that was a universal opinion though. Sunbeam were well known for their pep and cheer, their constant smiling faces which drove me crazy—and it’s not like that stopped. They still smiled. They still walked around campus laughing together, in their own little world. That was when people were watching. When they had an audience. I caught them when they didn’t have an audience. Without eyes on them, they detached from each other, their eyes darkening, expressions twisting, like each of them could smell something rotten in the air. I started noticing they were getting progressively clumsier at keeping up that Sunbeam façade they must have pledged when they joined the group. I figured it was just tiredness. They must have been through some pretty intense training.
Anyway, months went by. I started to feel less distant, and the fog which had been choking me faded, thankfully. I started my junior year moving into a shared house with my roommate, and the only talk I’d heard about Sunbeam was that one of their ex members was rumoured to be pregnant. As for the rest of the squad, they were still popular, still talked about—but their disappearance had definitely made people wary of them. I even heard someone say they were considered bad luck. I guess people thought they had sold themselves out for a chance to get into the big leagues. And it wouldn’t surprise me.
Forced positivity can get you a long way, sure—but recognition can get you further.
It was just a few weeks ago when I was invited to a game. Our first of the season, thanks to delays due to cuts in the sports department. I’m not much of a sports fan, though I needed a distraction from the copious amounts of assignments I’d let pile on my desk.
When I sat down with a chilli dog and Coke, I wasn’t expecting to get so invested in a game where I had no idea what was happening. It was loud and obnoxious and I was choking on the stink of fried food, but it was fun. It was fun until Sunbeam walked out onto the side-lines. I glimpsed them in a blur of blue and gold, and a dull pain crawled across the back of my head. “You okay?” My housemate’s voice was barely distinguishable in my ears, when I found myself transfixed by the way they moved in erratic jumps, quickly taking position. They had gotten better. Everything which was Sunbeam had been stripped away. Their smiles were forced. Wrong.
I remembered they used to push and shove each other, making the crowd laugh. Now though, they were in almost perfect sync in the way they moved, no longer shakily, sometimes stumbling into each other. Their routine was longer than it usually was—and when the Korean-American guy perfected a triple flip, the crowd went crazy. I expected him to smile when he landed, grinning into the audience to generate what Sunbeam was made for. But his expression stayed stoic. Robotic. They were stiff. Heads up, backs straight, staring ahead of them. I was told when I tried out that fake smiles weren’t allowed, and yet that was all I was seeing. I was seeing egotistical grins and curled lips, quick glances between each member.
I expected looks of reassurances, and in jokes only they found funny. Instead, it looked like a mutual agreement.
They were planning something. From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t a firework show.
Sunbeam used to generate happiness. Their smiles, even under a façade, had always been real.
These guys emanated power. The way they stood. The guy’s at the front, readying what I guessed was a lift, and the girl’s on top of them.
Their routine ended with the music reaching a climax, and the two main girl’s being lifted into the air while performing High V’s.
But they didn’t stop there.
When the crowd exploded with applause, one of the girl’s slowly raised her right arm and shot into the crowd with finger guns.
She shot twice—and with every time she pulled that imaginary trigger, her painted lips stretched into a maniacal grin.Until her gaze was on me. And then behind me. I could see it in her glittering eyes I could no longer call human. I met Evie at the start of my freshman year, and then at the disastrous try-outs.
I knew her wide smile, and the glint of passion twisting her expression—a love for the group and the members she couldn’t put into words. Right then I wasn’t seeing Evie, a Sunbeam cheerleader. I was seeing something else entirely, a being scanning faces in the crowd for a victim.
Her expression seemed to melt, from a gleeful grin, to something twisted and putrid, someone who craved the exact opposite of what Sunbeam preached. I watched her lips. I watched the words pop into existence, drowned into nothing by the crowds cheering. But I saw them in perfect clarity. “Drop.” She said, before pulling the imaginary trigger again.
No sooner had the words left her mouth before someone screamed behind me. I twisted around to see a guy had collapsed. He was pronounced dead five minutes later by his sobbing girlfriend who had attempted CPR. When I twisted back to look out onto the field, the Sunbeam Squad were gone. It didn’t make sense that they were the ones to cause the guy’s death—but it couldn’t have been a coincidence, right? Evie had shot into the crowd at the exact same time the guy had dropped dead. Finger guns weren’t a weapon of course, but the timing was too coincidental. I already knew there was something wrong with Sunbeam. And this just strengthened my claims.
Obviously, when I tried to tell people this, I was called crazy. Delusional. I reported it to the student information building and just got a blank stare.
The woman wasn’t even attempting to hear my story. She just heard “murder” and “Sunbeam” and her lips curved into an amused smirk. “You know, you are quite fascinating,” leaning back against her chair, the woman frowned at me through wonky glasses. "First you unexpectedly quit, and then you accuse them of murder. Which I can tell you is false.”
She flipped through a notebook in front of her. “According to the autopsy report released a few days ago, the young man died of a brain haemorrhage, not the result of being pretend shot at by a cheerleader miming finger-guns.” The woman cleared her throat.
“Tell me, what exactly do you have against the Sunbeam squad?"
“What?”
“You quit the squad at the end of your freshman year,” she said, “And now you’re trying to accuse them of murder? Fascinating.”
Her words struck me, a shiver sliding down my spine. The office was cosy, and when I sunk into the rich leather of the couch in front of a roaring fire I recognised the book on her desk. It was a dog eared copy of Harry Potter. I’d seen it before. But that was impossible. I had never been in her office. “Quit?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t…” I trailed off, stumbling over my words. “I’ve never been part of Sunbeam.”
“Were you not?” She shook her head, a crease forming between her brows. “Ah, I must be getting you mixed up with someone else.”
I nodded. “Just… can you just listen to me? That Evie girl was fucking—”
She cut me off. “Language.”
“Sorry. Evie. She was… I don’t know what she was doing... she was doing like... like voodoo?”
“Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Yes!"
“Mmm hmm.” The woman cleared her throat, dismissing my protests. “I’m not a doctor, but If you’re experiencing memory loss and confusion, I suggest you go to the hospital. As for your ludicrous claims, you should keep them to yourself. That poor young man died due to a brain haemorrhage. Terrible and tragic, yes. But it was accidental, and not the work of… I’m sorry, what were you claiming it to be?”
“Voodoo.” I said, again.
When she raised her brow, I couldn’t resist a groan. “I saw her! She shot into the crowd and mouthed something!”
“She… mouthed something?”
“Yes! But—"
Again, her words sliced into mine. “Okay, let’s say you were right,” she said. “If you are saying this girl shot into the crowd with her imaginary gun, wouldn’t it be a gun shot which would have killed him? You said it yourself—it was voodoo, some kind of witchy magic to kill him. So, where was the bullet wound?” When I tried to speak, she raised her arm to shut me up.
“Exactly. There was none. Because the man suffered a haemorrhagic stroke, and nothing could be done to save him. Your claims a group of young people carried this out as a murder is not only blatant defamation, but also disrespectful to the young man and his family. Now, please leave my office. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” The woman nodded for me to stand up. “I think you have been watching too much TV. Might I suggest focusing on your studies?”
I left her office, slamming the door.
My housemate wasn’t helpful when I told him. He told me I was maybe a little too obsessed with Sunbeam. He headed to work, and I ended up in the lounge trying to focus on an episode of Criminal Minds. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Evie.
I saw what she said.
Drop.
But it wasn’t the force of her imaginary finger-guns ricocheting back. It was the word. Drop.
It had been alive on her lips like it was a sentient thing bleeding into existence. I managed to fall asleep, twisted like a pretzel in my housemate’s favourite chair, when three loud knocks on the door tore me from slumber. I was on my feet, blinking, disoriented. It was rare when we got a visitor. Stumbling over to the door, I had a moment of hesitation. I imagined Evie on the other side.
I imagined her raising her arm and shooting her pretend finger-guns directly into my head.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see three little kids. The youngest must have been maybe nine years old. To my surprise, they were dressed in Halloween costumes. There was a little witch, a ghost, and a scarecrow all carrying pumpkin shaped holders It took me a moment to realise I was staring at a group of Trick or Treaters. It wasn’t even mid-October yet.
“Hey there,” I said, “Uh, you guys are a little early.”
The little girl’s eyes were wide and unblinking. “We want candy.” She held out her candy holder. “Now.”
I decided to be firm with them. “It’s not Halloween.” I said, taking a small step back. I was grasping the handle, ready to slam it in their faces. These little shits were freaking me out. Not just their tone, but their expressions were vacant. There were no lights on and that terrified me. “Sorry kids, I don’t have any candy. But like I said, come back when it’s actually Halloween, and I’ll have candy bars for all of you. "
What I wasn’t expecting was for the Scarecrow to pull a knife out of his pumpkin shaped candy holder. He didn’t hold it like a kid should, clumsily, confused. There was a strategic way the way his fingers were wrapped around the handle—like he’d brandished one before. The kid held the knife up to his own neck and made a slicing motion. Like the little girl, his eyes were blank. Unblinking. There was something wrong in the way he was standing. Stiff, like a puppet on strings. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He squeaked out a laugh. I didn’t see him lunge forward, I was already moving back, stumbling, losing my footing.
The kid moved with impossible speed—and before I knew what was happening, the hilt of the knife was buried in my lower leg. I didn’t even feel pain. My body was being driven by adrenaline, pushing me to get away from him. I remember falling back. I remember my own trembling hands grasping hold of the handle and pulling out the knife. Red was pooling down my jeans and onto our hardwood floor. The little kids turned around and ran back down the steps into the night, and I watched them in a sort of daze.
They didn’t move like normal.
They stalked down the sidewalk like video game characters. The witch shoved a passing old man before pulling out a gun and pointing it at his head. But she didn’t shoot. The three of them ran off—and it was only when I was watching the top of the girl’s witch hat disappear into the night, when I glimpsed something—or someone—at the corner of my eye.
Before I heard laughter. The tree in front of me moved. At first I thought they were shadow’s. Before the shadows bled into figures. Four of them. I glimpsed the school colours. Blue and Gold. I saw twin ponytails, velvet and blonde-- as well as the tell-tale Sunbeam varsity jacket. The group were laughing, whispering to each other. Not exactly doing a good job of hiding. When they slipped from their hiding place, I recognised Evie. Her fingers gingerly on her nose while intense red pooled down her chin.
The others were the same, swiping at their faces with jacket sleeves. They didn’t seem fazed. The redhead’s gaze was latched onto the retreating children, his lips curling. I could sense he was still tethered to them. He was still commanding them to act out grand theft auto. They had caused the man’s death at the game and had controlled those children.
I wasn’t crazy or delusional. Evie had killed someone by simply shooting imaginary finger guns, and somehow the others were able to bleed into children’s heads, taking them over.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I heaved out a breath. The pain was starting to hit in waves I had to grit through. I couldn’t move. I was stuck, curled up on my floor. While they laughed.
I was halfway through stabbing 911 into my phone when one of them came over. It was the Korean-American. The one who had been the nicest to me out of all of them. The real smile I remembered was gone, replaced by something inhuman. Something I didn’t want to question.
With his hands stuffed in his varsity jacket pockets, he approached me with mocking eyes, almost an attempt at trying to mimic his old self.
The guy knelt in front of me with a chuckle. “Kids these days, right? They’re animals.”
His voice, no, his words, were hurting me. I felt each one penetrate me like gunshots.
My wound wasn’t bad. That’s what I estimated, anyway. I don’t think the kid had hit anything vital. But I needed the emergency room. I still had one hand grasping at my side, drenched in red.
I managed a hiss, grasping for my phone when he pulled it out of my grasp and waved it in the air. “Fuck off. What did you do to those little kids?” I gritted out, trying to reach for my damn phone. I was starting to feel the pain in my side and it hurt like a mother fucker—dizzying bolts of electricity which felt like waves of boiling hot water slamming into me one by one. I tried to get onto my knees, but he pushed me back down again. The guy cocked his head to the side, confusion creasing his expression.
“Ouch. That must hurt.”
"What did you... what did you do?" I hissed out.
His presence was hurting me. Every time he opened his mouth, it was agony. Somehow, it was worse than the stab-wound. This kind of pain was no other I’d felt before. The type I’d rather die than feel. A cry was clawing at my throat, fight or flight taking over. Again, I tried to move, I tried to get away from him. But he was holding down my arms and prodding at my side before sticking his finger in the cut and twisting. "I didn't do anything, Alex.”
His voice barely hit me when my vision blurred and I screamed. Like a fucking animal, I screamed. But not because his fingers were digging around in my insides.
Because my brain was suddenly boiling, a metal rod piercing my skull and stirring it into a soupy mess. His voice was inside me. It was bleeding into me, taking over me. But not just his voice. The world blurred around me and I was no longer in my doorway, bleeding out against the wall.
Instead, I was moving. I was… I was walking. No, I was being dragged. Except these weren’t my memories. This wasn’t my mind. I could see bare feet beneath me delicately slapping on white tiles. When I looked up, I saw an expanse of white like I was being led straight into the clouds. This was a building. There were glass doors and electronic panels, people in black guarding each one. It took a while for me to gain my senses—or him to gain his.
We could smell something like chlorine and taste rusty coins at the back of our throat. Feel the ice cold tiles against our bare toes. A strange feeling at the back of our head. We kept wanting to run our fingers through our hair, but every time we did, our fingers only touched bare skin. Scuffed and rigged skin. Tight fingers were wrapped around our arm, dragging us further and further into a white oblivion. Until a glass door seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
From now on, I am going to describe his memories very vaguely. I’m just going to tell you what I saw.
The room we walked into reminded me of a classroom—but there were no desks. In front of me were the other members of Sunbeam pressed against the back wall. They faced forwards, their gazes penetrating nothing. But I saw they were trembling. Terrified. The squad were dressed in pale white shorts and t-shirt, ugly red spattering the front. There were still traces of blue and glitter on their faces, ribbons hanging from bedraggled curls.
Their feet were bare and filthy like ours. When we were shoved forwards, we took our place next to Evie who had half of her hair shaved off. Her arms were folded across her cheer uniform, her bare feet tapping a beat against the floor. When a woman with dark red hair held in a strict ponytail entered and asked if either of us wanted to show her what we had learned, Evie eagerly raised her hand. “Okay, Evie.” The woman’s voice was too sweet. Sickly sweet. She gestured for the girl forward. “Show us what you’ve got.”
The door opened, and a man stepped through. His hands were tied in front of him, his eyes blank.
Evie nodded, her eyes set in determination. She cleared her throat. “Shatter.”
Nothing happened.
“Intent, Evie.” The woman said. “It doesn’t matter how you say the word unless you use proper intent. Try again.”
The girl did, growling in frustration.
"Shatter.”
The man’s head flew from his torso suddenly in a river of red, and the girl squeaked in excitement.
While we watched in horror, the rest of the squad gave in to their own despair.
Different days bled into one—and we watched faces change. Heads were shaved. Hair grew back. Fear turned to joy.
A blonde girl exploded into bloody chunks, splattering against the walls.
“Yes!” The redhead high-fived pigtails, the two of them locked into some bizarre handshake. “That’s what I’m TALKING about!”
“Bang!” One of the girls used finger guns, and with each “shot” innocents dropped against the wall one by one, their heads blown through.
She jumped up and down in glee. “Bang, bang, bang!”
“Keep going,” the voice of the woman crackled through the speaker. “You’ve almost got it.”
“Divide.” Pigtails used her pointer finger at an old man who was skewed by an invisible force sending bloody chunks of him to the floor.
"Show off.” The redhead said in a sing-song voice. He was slumped against the back wall using his jersey to wipe blood from his face while the others painted the room scarlet. With simple words of intent and a hand gesture, they were able to take people apart piece by piece.
Pigtails snorted when another “test subject” was brought in. "Oh, you think you can do better?”
“Think I can? I know I can.”
This time he plunged two fingers into his temples. He was centre stage, the others against the back wall with their arms folded.
“Rip it out.”
The test subject’s eyes widened, her trembling hands clawing at her own head, fingernails digging into flesh. “Rip…rip it out?”
His lip curved. “That’s what I said.”
We didn’t see the test subject rip her own brain from her skull. We were already burying our head into our knees and screeching into the floor. Another flash. Like watching a movie.
This time we’re cutting into our wrist with shards of glass. Pulling back fleshy flaps of our flesh, there are two wires entangled with muscle and bone. One red and one blue. “Why won’t you submit?” A sharp growl, and I can feel our body pressed against metal. Our arms are restrained. “Out of all of them, you refuse it.” A hand slaps our face. “You don’t want it!”
He started to laugh.
“You don’t want… control?”
He leaned his face closer. “Tell me to mutilate myself. Tell me to… to tear out my brain stem! That’s the beauty of it! No matter how impossible the order is, it will be completed! Control, my boy. Use it. Do you even understand how much you are going to shape the world? Words! Do you know how powerful they are? When said from the right mouth, with the right intent, they can cause bloodshed, pain and misery-- a despair drowning our already shattered earth. And you will be the centre of it. You will bring this world to its knees, Jason."
"Now, do it. We call it cutting, but you will find familiarity in referring to it as erasure. You can make up your own words if you would like. What matters is the intent.” I feel something slicing into our arm. It’s nothing medical. It’s torture. He plunges something sharp into the same spot and twists the blade until we throw our head back and scream at the ceiling.
“You’re the last one.” The man hissed. “Do it.”
“No.” I heard his—our—voice. “I… I can’t!”
“Do it!”
He’s dragging us again, forcing us down a long winding corridor until we reach another door.
"Drown." The boy - - Jason's-- voice was suddenly in my head. I could sense it was trying to hold back, attempting to peel back whatever power his own words had. But the word came again and again until it was suffocating his mouth. “Drown. Drown. Drown. Drown.” We were standing in the doorway of a smaller room. In the corner there was a figure curled up with their head pressed against the wall.
It was a guy.
I recognised our school colours, a bloodied varsity jacket over shorts and t-shirt. When he lifted his head and twisted to face the boy whose mind I was in, I noticed he had an uncanny resemblance to me. His eyes wide, frightened. They were my mother's.
This guy looked exactly like me.
No, it WAS me.
My eyes were shadowed and haunted.
Like I had been drained of everything I was.
As quickly as the memories came crashing into me, they were yanked away when the guy must have pulled back.
I blinked rapidly, and Jason looked as confused as me. Slowly, he pulled his finger from my cut. The man's voice was in my skull, and it was agonising. I felt the command in my head, my body instantly reacting to... to nothing. I had my hands out, ready to do.... do something.
"That was… just a trick,” He said. “Yeah! Just a trick!”
I found myself nodding, echoing his words. Something warm ran from my nose.
"Just... a trick..." I whispered, the words forced from my lips.
Blood spattered down my chin.
“Louder.” He said.
"JUST A TRICK!" I yelled, the force of the wail sending me my knees, panting. The guy was frowning, seemingly unsure what to do with me.
He wrapped up my wound and told me it wasn’t bad—and it wasn’t. I watched in disbelief as my skin stitched itself back together.
"Go into your kitchen." Jason said, and I felt the power of his words ripping through me like bullets. My body moved on its own, and I got to my feet and stepped into my kitchen. He followed me, grabbing a scarf off of the table.
"Get on your knees." I did, dropping to my knees, my breath in my throat, my mouth sealed shut. I could sense the others in the doorway as he wrapped the scarf around my eyes, the heel of his shoe slamming into my neck forcing me onto my stomach.
"I want you to wait for me to kill you."
His words pierced into me. I did. Even when I knew he was gone, the door slamming shut-- I waited. I waited until the next morning, until I regained control over my own body and pulled the scarf from my eyes. I'm still waiting, my brain in constant panic, twisting around when I'm alone, looking into every corner.
I was roped into going to Friday's game against Harrington. During Sunbeam’s routine, they did it again. They had the crowd's attention, and Evie was mouthing something. I felt her words, sharp like needles cutting into me. But they didn't penetrate. They have done something to the student body. Ever since, I’ve been catching looks around me. Those whose heads they have crawled into. Mindless eyes. Every so often an arm will touch mine, fingers will wrap around my neck. I can hear their feet pitter pattering after me. Those little kids from that night. I keep seeing the little witch girl in the corner of my eye. They’re creating an army who are coming for me once he decides to kill me.
If only I knew what happened to the Sunbeam squad. Maybe I can help them somehow.
But something tells me they’re way past help.
And so am I.
I wonder if one day, I might be allowed a glimpse of my memories. What really happened to me during my freshman year.
And why, ever since going into his mind, I dream of a white room.