Dyson hot cool link replacement filter
Bug identification! All insects, spiders, crustaceans, etc. welcome!
2010.09.01 00:21 soxfanpdx Bug identification! All insects, spiders, crustaceans, etc. welcome!
Bug identification! All insects, spiders, crustaceans, etc. welcome!
2021.09.15 04:50 cumwaffles NMIXX (엔믹스)
A community dedicated to JYP Entertainment's new girl group, NMIXX.
2012.01.13 22:03 Roleplaying for Reddit!
/RoleplayingForReddit is a community to find and advertise play-by-post role playing groups.
2023.03.29 06:20 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, Kara Gamma, BFK Freehand, BFK Bright Water, Spec Gloves Kimono, Nomad Fade, M9 Doppler, Skeleton, BFK B.Steel, AWP Fade, Stiletto Fade, S.Gloves Slingshot, BFK Ultra, Kara Damas, Bayo Lore, Bayo Gamma, Flip Fade & A Lot More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $1867
★ Butterfly Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $1098
★ Butterfly Knife Blue Steel BS, B/O: $907
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $789
★ Butterfly Knife Stained FT, B/O: $695
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $888
★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $727
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $608
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $521
★ Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $253
★ Bayonet Night FT, B/O: $251
★ StatTrak™ Bayonet Lore MW, B/O: $751
⎯★ Karambit Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1343
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $774
★ Karambit Rust Coat BS, B/O: $537
★ Karambit Boreal Forest FT, B/O: $488
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1008
★ M9 Bayonet Blue Steel FT, B/O: $534
★ M9 Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $449
⎯★ Flip Knife Fade FN, B/O: $703
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $509
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $406
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $228
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $332
⎯★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $292
★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $264
★ Falchion Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Falchion Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $133
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Fade FN, B/O: $822
★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $569
★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $530
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $396
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $172
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $830
★ Gut Knife Fade FN, B/O: $204
★ Gut Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $138
★ Gut Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $104
★ Gut Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $92
★ Gut Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $82
★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $93
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $165
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Bright Water FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel WW, B/O: $80
★ Shadow Daggers Rust Coat BS, B/O: $74
★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade FN, B/O: $186
⎯★ Classic Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $311
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $163
⎯★ Talon Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $605
★ Talon Knife Scorched MW, B/O: $290
⎯★ Ursus Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $405
★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe MW, B/O: $162
⎯★ Paracord Knife Stained WW, B/O: $125
★ Paracord Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
★ Paracord Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $96
⎯★ Navaja Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $71
★ Navaja Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $71
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1015
★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $909
★ Bowie Knife Boreal Forest MW, B/O: $106
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $335
★ Driver Gloves King Snake BS, B/O: $270
★ Driver Gloves Lunar Weave WW, B/O: $113
★ Driver Gloves Overtake WW, B/O: $88
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $67
⎯★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $171
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $137
★ Moto Gloves Transport WW, B/O: $71
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $62
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1027
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $654
★ Specialist Gloves Mogul FT, B/O: $295
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $277
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web FT, B/O: $275
⎯★ Sport Gloves Slingshot FT, B/O: $796
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $699
★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $656
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Unhinged BS, B/O: $60
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $864
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $84
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Wildfire FT, B/O: $59
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $59
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Printstream FN, B/O: $155
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $58
⎯M4A1-S Icarus Fell FN, B/O: $414
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1402
M4A4 The Emperor FN, B/O: $152
M4A4 Asiimov WW, B/O: $97
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $65
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $123
StatTrak™ USP-S Neo-Noir FN, B/O: $106
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $218
P2000 Ocean Foam FN, B/O: $139
Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike MW, B/O: $81
CZ75-Auto Emerald Quartz MW, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.03.29 05:37 Reeethewizard Generic Filament Help - Bambu Lab X1 Carbon
Hi everyone, I've only been printing for 4 months now, and this is my first time asking for help. I pride myself in being able to self-learn anything, I feel like I've really got the hang of 3D printing in any kind of filament and tweaking them to print perfectly. But I feel like I've finally met my match, after trying to tweak the settings for some "budget PETG" I purchased from IIIDMax, I'm ready to cave in and see if anyone can help with a good solution.
I know PETG is prone to stringing, boogering, overextruding & underextruding at varying speeds, among other issues. I have purchased PETG from overture, novamaker, giantarm, polymaker, SUNLU, and a few other generic manufacturers. Most of them are ready to print with the default config from Bambu Lab, others needed very minor tweaking in bed and nozzle temp. But this IIIDMAX PETG won't print a single print without completely going to crap by at least layer 5. I think the root cause of the issue is the boogers that build up around the nozzle, it eventually builds up to the point where it starts colliding with the print, or just eventually falls off and ruins the rest of the print. I purchased sliceengineering plastic repellent paint and covered the nozzle in it, but even that hasn't helped the issue.
Fixes I tried:
- Dried the filament twice, once at 60C for 6 hours, then at 65C for 8 hours (first time in my SUNLU S2 filadryer, then in my EIBOS Cyclopes dryer)
- Temp tower from 225 - 265 (best temp I found was 228, which seems really low for PETG)
- Changing Max Volumetric Speed (tried 3, 5, 8, 10, 12, 14, & 15.. all of them printed like crap), I also tried manually changing print speeds for outer wall, inner wall, travel, infill, etc.. I even tried printing faster to see if it would prevent the boogers from accumulating, needless to say, that was useless too (going faster is almost never the solution, but I was desperate lol).
- Configured PA advance in Orca slicer
- Changed the Z offset (0.03-0.08, the standard 0.04 was best)
- Changed retraction length, and z-hop length (can't remember what settings i used, but i tried many variations)
- Swapped nozzles (only 0.4mm nozzles, I didn't try 0.6mm nozzle because I want it for more accurate and precise prints)
- Tried every type of bed - Smooth PEI, Engineering plate, Textured PEI plate, even some Smooth generic PET plate from Aliexpress.
- Switched between different infill patterns (I usually only use gyroid or adaptive cubic)
- Varied the cooling between no cooling, little cooling, and high cooling
I purchased 30 rolls of PLA+ from that company and didn't have any issues printing that at all, I didn't even need to change the default config from Bambu Labs Generic PLA profile except by increasing the bed temp for better adhesion. Then I thought if their PLA is good, why wouldn't their PETG be good too? My last solution is to throw out the 10 rolls of PETG I purchased and just stick to the brand names I mentioned above. but I just don't wanna toss out $200 worth of filament, to be honest.
So any help would be very highly appreciated. I thank everyone that tries in advance for their efforts.
Also final note, I've printed 970 hours worth of prints on my X1 Carbon, using PLA, PLA+, PETG, ABS, ASA, Nylon, PA-CF, and a few other variations of those filaments. I've never even had so much as a clog with any of those filaments. Since I got this IIIDMAX PETG filament, I've had 2 extruder jams and a clogged nozzle 4 times. The only parts I replaced on the printer were the control board fan, and the nozzle once (only because it bent after colliding with a print). So kudos to Bambu lab for making such an amazing printer that gives even beginners like me such an amazing experience with 3D printing. Once again, I thank everyone that reads this ridiculously long post and tries to help.
https://reddit.com/link/125bza4/video/aajkqaiqmlqa1/player
submitted by Reeethewizard to BambuLab [link] [comments]
I know PETG is prone to stringing, boogering, overextruding & underextruding at varying speeds, among other issues. I have purchased PETG from overture, novamaker, giantarm, polymaker, SUNLU, and a few other generic manufacturers. Most of them are ready to print with the default config from Bambu Lab, others needed very minor tweaking in bed and nozzle temp. But this IIIDMAX PETG won't print a single print without completely going to crap by at least layer 5. I think the root cause of the issue is the boogers that build up around the nozzle, it eventually builds up to the point where it starts colliding with the print, or just eventually falls off and ruins the rest of the print. I purchased sliceengineering plastic repellent paint and covered the nozzle in it, but even that hasn't helped the issue.
Fixes I tried:
- Dried the filament twice, once at 60C for 6 hours, then at 65C for 8 hours (first time in my SUNLU S2 filadryer, then in my EIBOS Cyclopes dryer)
- Temp tower from 225 - 265 (best temp I found was 228, which seems really low for PETG)
- Changing Max Volumetric Speed (tried 3, 5, 8, 10, 12, 14, & 15.. all of them printed like crap), I also tried manually changing print speeds for outer wall, inner wall, travel, infill, etc.. I even tried printing faster to see if it would prevent the boogers from accumulating, needless to say, that was useless too (going faster is almost never the solution, but I was desperate lol).
- Configured PA advance in Orca slicer
- Changed the Z offset (0.03-0.08, the standard 0.04 was best)
- Changed retraction length, and z-hop length (can't remember what settings i used, but i tried many variations)
- Swapped nozzles (only 0.4mm nozzles, I didn't try 0.6mm nozzle because I want it for more accurate and precise prints)
- Tried every type of bed - Smooth PEI, Engineering plate, Textured PEI plate, even some Smooth generic PET plate from Aliexpress.
- Switched between different infill patterns (I usually only use gyroid or adaptive cubic)
- Varied the cooling between no cooling, little cooling, and high cooling
I purchased 30 rolls of PLA+ from that company and didn't have any issues printing that at all, I didn't even need to change the default config from Bambu Labs Generic PLA profile except by increasing the bed temp for better adhesion. Then I thought if their PLA is good, why wouldn't their PETG be good too? My last solution is to throw out the 10 rolls of PETG I purchased and just stick to the brand names I mentioned above. but I just don't wanna toss out $200 worth of filament, to be honest.
So any help would be very highly appreciated. I thank everyone that tries in advance for their efforts.
Also final note, I've printed 970 hours worth of prints on my X1 Carbon, using PLA, PLA+, PETG, ABS, ASA, Nylon, PA-CF, and a few other variations of those filaments. I've never even had so much as a clog with any of those filaments. Since I got this IIIDMAX PETG filament, I've had 2 extruder jams and a clogged nozzle 4 times. The only parts I replaced on the printer were the control board fan, and the nozzle once (only because it bent after colliding with a print). So kudos to Bambu lab for making such an amazing printer that gives even beginners like me such an amazing experience with 3D printing. Once again, I thank everyone that reads this ridiculously long post and tries to help.
https://reddit.com/link/125bza4/video/aajkqaiqmlqa1/player
2023.03.29 04:07 ivtecc B650E-F Coil whine workaround fix.
For some crazy reason this helps reduce the coil whine by a lot, I can now run at full power without going crazy from hearing the coil whine. (honestly I still hear something, but I think it's my head or my AIO)
My setup
B650E-F (02/2023 build) with 7900x
BiOS 1224
Eco mode 170w
TDP to 85c
Offset voltage -45mv
Offset SOC voltage -10mv (idk if this makes a difference, I just had this before testing this theory)
C-states on
Other parts: Gskill 32gb cl36 ram, EVGA G+ 750w, Nzxt z63 AIO, 3070FE GPU, 1tb Samsung 980pro, 1tb Intel 670p.
Testing and conclusion
Coil whine only occurs after installing the AMD grahics drivers. (Sorry to those with a AMD GPU...)
I think enabling/running the iGPU allows more voltage to be pulled. And the coil whine only occurs when the VRMs are at a certain voltage. So by not utilizing the iGPU, the VRM voltage is at a happy spot.
Disabling the iGPU using the BIOS completely skews the voltage and the the coil whine is present even with a fresh Windows install without any drivers.
If you do get the system running hot hot aka Benchmarks, the coil whine is present, but it will eventually go away once it cools down. I don't ever push my system that hard - typical web browsing and light gaming, so this should be fine for me, it's way better than before- where there was coil whine during a cold start.
What I did
Fresh Windows 10 and offline mode. (Cinebech R23 gets about 27k at 120w without fan+pump tweaks)
Install all drivers but the AMD graphics for the iGPU. (For some reason the coil whine starts after this installation).
Disable the igpu with device manager
Disable drivers updates with Windows updates using gpedit
Add the iGPU to the ban list.
(See 2 links belows)
Reboot
Connect to the internet and set your connection to metered mode.
Open Windows updates and do the required updates and make sure that the drivers for the igpu is not getting downloaded. (Advanced micro devices display)
Test and report back!
With fan+pump tweaks- Cinebench R23 28200 @ 130w @ ~5063mhz 85c
Previous solution - adjust Windows power profile
Eco mode at 105w.
Adjust the Balanced profile , Maximum processor state to: 60% - this pulls about 25w. Cinebech R23 20k 42c 99% - this pulls about 75w. Cinebech R23 24-25k 60c
Obviously the lower you go the quieter the coil whine is.
submitted by ivtecc to ASUSROG [link] [comments]
My setup
B650E-F (02/2023 build) with 7900x
BiOS 1224
Eco mode 170w
TDP to 85c
Offset voltage -45mv
Offset SOC voltage -10mv (idk if this makes a difference, I just had this before testing this theory)
C-states on
Other parts: Gskill 32gb cl36 ram, EVGA G+ 750w, Nzxt z63 AIO, 3070FE GPU, 1tb Samsung 980pro, 1tb Intel 670p.
Testing and conclusion
Coil whine only occurs after installing the AMD grahics drivers. (Sorry to those with a AMD GPU...)
I think enabling/running the iGPU allows more voltage to be pulled. And the coil whine only occurs when the VRMs are at a certain voltage. So by not utilizing the iGPU, the VRM voltage is at a happy spot.
Disabling the iGPU using the BIOS completely skews the voltage and the the coil whine is present even with a fresh Windows install without any drivers.
If you do get the system running hot hot aka Benchmarks, the coil whine is present, but it will eventually go away once it cools down. I don't ever push my system that hard - typical web browsing and light gaming, so this should be fine for me, it's way better than before- where there was coil whine during a cold start.
What I did
Fresh Windows 10 and offline mode. (Cinebech R23 gets about 27k at 120w without fan+pump tweaks)
Install all drivers but the AMD graphics for the iGPU. (For some reason the coil whine starts after this installation).
Disable the igpu with device manager
Disable drivers updates with Windows updates using gpedit
Add the iGPU to the ban list.
(See 2 links belows)
Reboot
Connect to the internet and set your connection to metered mode.
Open Windows updates and do the required updates and make sure that the drivers for the igpu is not getting downloaded. (Advanced micro devices display)
Test and report back!
With fan+pump tweaks- Cinebench R23 28200 @ 130w @ ~5063mhz 85c
Previous solution - adjust Windows power profile
Eco mode at 105w.
Adjust the Balanced profile , Maximum processor state to: 60% - this pulls about 25w. Cinebech R23 20k 42c 99% - this pulls about 75w. Cinebech R23 24-25k 60c
Obviously the lower you go the quieter the coil whine is.
2023.03.29 03:28 FLUFFCAT13 Captain's Collapse: Part 16
well, here it is, part 16. this one is a bit more calm than usual, but I felt like I kinda forgot about the whole reason Orvin ended up with Flick in the first place. so this time, Orvin finally gets some actual treatment, even if it's a little gross and sticky.
as always, enjoy. next one will be focused on the city-fleet, and there's trouble brewing, but that's coming once I've done part 3 of The New Smith
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject Memory Transcription: Flick, Venlil Civilian
Being a civilian was almost surreal. For the first time in my life, people weren’t scared of me, and noone avoided me in the streets. Of course, being in another town helped quite a bit with that, but even a change of scenery wasn’t normally enough to have people treating me as part of the herd. Well, they didn’t avoid me, anyway. Having Orvin by my side scared off most of the smaller Venlil, but I didn’t mind too much. It was still much more friendly than I was used to, and that alone was enough to cheer me up.
Orvin had booked a day out somewhere, but he was refusing to tell me where. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him to know what I would enjoy, it was more so that my reputation may cause some trouble for us. I still went with him though, because a day spent with him was better than anything I could do at home.
As we strolled through the unfamiliar streets, he chatted noisily about quantum physics, which was a personal interest of his. This time he was explaining the basics of quantum tunnelling to me, which was well beyond what I could understand, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise since he was clearly enjoying explaining it.
“So then, since you can’t directly observe the particles, you have to somehow get them to measure themselves. So the solution was to get them to bump into weak magnetic fields to turn them like clock hands, and get them to be their own timers. You still with me?”
I nodded and tried my best to not seem disinterested, and he continued his rant about what sounded like pure insanity wrapped in a scientific method, which let my thoughts wander across the last few days.
The morning after what he had jokingly called the “day of reckoning”, I had submitted my resignation letter and leaked all of the previously classified documents to the press. It had caused a huge panic among the local government. In fact, had I not been the one to leak the documents, I would likely be caught up in the hurricane of investigations and resignations.
Thursday had actually been the first time I had seen Orvin show any violence though. One of the Magisters had sent a large police detachment to arrest me for “treason”, and they raided our home in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, the two of us were wrapped up in blankets watching an old Terran film, so I was quickly seized. This put Orvin into a full rage that ended with every single officer having their steel helmets peeled from their heads, their riot shields cracked and ruined, and their uniforms shredded by claws that cut cast iron like wet paper. Thankfully, the only major injury in the fight was one officer having his arm broken by impacting a wall, so we got off fairly lightly under “self defence” when the case came before a judge.
This did screw things up though. Once the incident went public, it became clear that people were terrified of Orvin. He had single handedly knocked down and disarmed twenty three officers, including fourteen terrans, which led to him gaining a reputation as a danger to the public. He blamed himself for that, and I could tell that it still weighed heavy on his mind that he had done so much damage so quickly, but honestly I was just glad that he was willing to protect me when I couldn’t protect myself. I just hoped I could undo the damage those words from the judge had done.
As kind as she had been, her ruling stated that “all injuries caused were self-inflicted by attacking a dangerous predator unprovoked”, which really made me angry. I could see that Orvin had taken that remark personally, and since the hearing ended he had been so cautious it genuinely worried me. It was like he suddenly believed himself to be the monster that others saw him as, and I hated that.
Maybe I can make things better today
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject Memory Transcription: Orvin, Venlil Civilian
When the police raided us, I responded with unthinking violence. Sure, noone got badly injured, but it wasn’t because I was restraining myself or anything. My killer instincts took over when I saw Flick being cuffed, and I sent one of them into a wall and knocked the others down, and it scared me.
Knowing that I was on a hair trigger was terrifying. It meant that anything could set me off, and that I could suddenly go feral and cause irreparable damage to people around me. But most of all, I was worried about Flick. It had taken a lot of hard work to get this far, and I didn’t want to suddenly lose everything just because of my programming kicking in and killing someone. Thankfully, today would give me some time to take care of some issues.
I hadn’t told him, but I booked us both a day at a “rejuvenation clinic”. Well, sort of. I had managed to get him there in a 2-for-1 deal, since I was already booked there for medical reasons.
I was actually headed there for a very different kind of rejuvenation. In my last visit to the doctor, I had given a series of samples for them to extrapolate. Today, I would be submerged in a massive vat of stem cells that had been growing since last week. The idea was that, by supplying unlimited amounts of stem cells, we could reactivate my body’s construction protocols and possibly repair the damage done to it. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I was more than willing to give it a shot, and since I wasn’t paying for it there was no real reason not to take a day out of my empty schedule and lie in a pool of my own DNA.
I bet it’s all slimy and gross
“Soooooo, where are we going?” Flick’s voice brought me back to reality. We were almost there, so I decided to tell him. “We’re heading to some rejuvenation clinic, for a relaxing day off. It was originally going to be just me going, but I managed to convince them to let you tag along.”
He gave me a confused look. “And you were headed there why exactly?” there was no point lying to him, but I just had to not get his hopes up, since this was very experimental. “The doctors are testing something. They’re going to get me to lie in a pool of my own stem cells in the hopes that my body’s construction program will restart and repair me. Of course, this place also does plenty of other stuff, so we’ll have a lot of time together, but don’t be too surprised if I get dragged away at various times.”
He smiled at me and rubbed my forearm with one paw. “If it has a chance at helping you, I really don’t mind. Just promise me we get to do something together for my birthday next week, okay?”
Oh shit, I forgot about that
“Sounds good. By the way, we’re here!”
Looking at the building, it was a sandy yellow concrete wave at odds with everything nearby, studded with seashells and bare of windows except for the flowing green glass roof that shone a single ray of sunlight down onto the front entrance. I stepped through the double doors, venlil in tow, and the gojid at the front desk handed us our cards without even looking up.
A pair of UN guards escorted me to the chamber I would be spending the next few hours in, and a tiny attendant took Flick to the hot springs. Once I was inside the room, a human scientist explained the whole experiment to me, and passed me an oxygen tube which I put into my mouth and strapped in place, before opening the steel lid on a circular vat filled with light pink goop.
Yep, gross and slimy alright
I took a deep breath, gave a thumbs up, and sank into the viscous pool. It was ice cold and thick like glue, but surprisingly comfortable as I found the seat and relaxed. Then, the lid came down, the lights went off, and the water level rose, submerging me in the dark, cold slime.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject Memory Transcription: Flick, Venlil Civilian
Once Orvin was gone, a venlil barely up to my chest guided me through winding halls and into the main room. It was a beautiful garden bathed in filtered sunlight, with columns of steam rising from each of the fake volcanic baths. It looked like a magical place to spend an afternoon, but it was a sign on the other end of the room that really caught my eye.
Fur dye & styling
I skipped straight past all the warm water and other comforts, and straight into the salon. The female Krakotl at a desk clearly wasn’t expecting such a tall customer though, and visibly recoiled at the sight of me when I leaned on her desk and requested black dye.
She didn’t take long to recover though, since a paying customer was a paying customer. “Right this way sir, just take a seat in one of the chairs and we’ll set up the dye for you.” She ushered me to a cushioned reclining chair, and I positioned myself comfortably. She then fussed with a machine that was sitting just over my head, before giving it a slap with her wing and stepping back from me. “Just sit still, this will only take a minute to calibrate for you.”
There was a buzzing sound, and the chair under me vibrated as the machine above me traced lasers across my head and chest. I had no clue what was going on here, but it seemed like this was just a scanner of sorts to get measurements for something else. I sat still as what felt like robotic arms pressed against my back and neck, and closed my eyes as a line traced its way across my full face, then it dinged.
After that, I was escorted to what looked like a shower, or maybe one of those terran carwashes. I stood inside the machine while she put some code into it, then gave me a nod before flicking something that brought the machine to life. A screen blinked in front of me telling me to stand with legs apart and arms up, then to close my eyes and hold my breath. Once I did so, there was a whirring sound, and a cold mist sprayed across my whole body for what felt like an eternity.
Once the mist was gone, something brushed against me, and it felt like it was scrubbing my fur all over. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but it was not something I was used to either, so it was awkward as brushes went all over me and put what felt like some sort of oil into every inch of fur. It actually tickled a little, and took all of my energy just to resist the urge to move and swat at the brushes as they made their way across my head.
And then, it was over. Warm water poured over me and washed everything off, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief, before gasping for air as I realised I had empty lungs when I exhaled. I let my eyes adjust to the lights again, and took a good look at myself in the mirror on the chamber wall. It was certainly strange to see, but now I was jet black, and it suited me.
A tap on the glass brought me back to the real world, and I stepped out into the salon again. The Krakotl charged me for the dye, and gave me a tube of gel to seal my fur. I thanked her, and headed out to the pools to go for a relaxing soak while I waited for Orvin.
As I sank into the warm water, I could feel the bubbles massaging my sore muscles. I still had some bruises from the raid, but I didn’t want to worry him about them, so I hid my injuries. It still hurt, but at least this way he wouldn’t worry too much about me.
I just hope he doesn’t freak out over the makeover
I set a timer for an hour, and sank neck deep into the relaxing pool to take a short rest.
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Subject Memory Transcription: Orvin, Venlil Civilian
I was woken up by the sounds of metal clanging. It was still dark, but now the goop was warm and comfortable. I stretched out and almost yawned, only stopping myself when I felt the plastic bit hit one fang as a reminder of my oxygen tube.
As my limbs extended, I felt refreshed. It was an unfamiliar feeling as joints rolled smoothly, and tendons stretched perfectly across bone. I could feel muscles pulling with a renewed force, and my skin tingled slightly as it stretched and moved over my freshly repaired frame. It felt incredible as I tested each appendage, each claw, and every single one responded without any pain.
The hatch clanged open, and there were shouts as paws reached in to grab me, but I simply stood up and pulled myself from out of the gunk. Although it sucked and dragged, I still had enough strength to overcome it, and stepped out onto the grated floor of the off-white chamber. I blinked under the intense fluorescent lights, and stood still as I was blasted clean by hoses. The water steamed as it hit me, and I could feel myself cooling off under the tide of cool liquid.
“Alright, he’s stable, cut the water.” the human voice cut through the mental fog and kicked my brain into gear. “So, how are you feeling?”
I didn’t really know how to explain it, so I put it as best as I could into terms that ordinary people could understand. “Very refreshed, like I’ve just had a good sleep and woken up on a warm spring morning. I feel alive.”
Some of the venlil were taking notes furiously as another human circled me, taking assorted measurements. Then, he stood straight up in front of me, and opened my mouth to measure my jaws. Such a thing would be considered an invitation for a nasty bite if you did it to a normal Scion, but at least I was better than that. He then looked me dead in the eyes and asked me about my body temperature.
Scion temperature is extremely flexible. In fact, core temperature can range anywhere from 25 to 58 degrees, with surface temperature ranging from 3 to 87 degrees. This was because of our home planet having an extremely volatile environment. During the days, it would be well over 100°C, and nights would drop below -50°C due to the total lack of atmospheric insulation. This forced us to evolve fur to preserve internal temperatures, but also to be very flexible so we could hunt nights and days, as Scions ran on 26-hour cycles, while our home planet had 33 hour days, so we would often be out of sync with sunrise and sunset so as to catch all sorts of prey.
Of course, since I was submerged in that goop with all my cells working at full power, my body had naturally began heating up, so it was likely that they had stopped the experiment when I crossed the 50 degree mark, which explained the water blasting.
“Don’t worry about my temperature. As long as I don’t go over about 56°C core or 85°C surface, I’m perfectly fine.” I explained, as the venlil furiously crossed out and rewrote notes. The human nodded and guided me to another room where a set of machines were waiting for me. They were the same ones I had been tested on before being submerged, so I recognised their functions. The first one weighed me, the second one took a small tissue sample, the third one scanned for bone structure, the fourth for muscle-to-fat ratios, and the fifth for blood vessels and nerve pathways. Once they had the results of each, I was given a sandwich, a sugary drink, and sent back out into the day spa.
As I strolled through the halls, I almost tripped over a jet-black venlil, who seemed just a little shorter than Flick was, and quickly apologised to him. The venlil wrapped his arms around me though, taking me by surprise before it clicked in my brain.
“Hah, didn’t recognise you for a second there. What’s with the new colour?” I asked. He responded by twirling around like a showoff, letting his glossy coat glimmer under the white skylights illuminating the hallway. “I went for a bit of a makeover while you were busy. Do you like it?”
I loved it. He looked so fluffy now, with the freshly brushed fur puffed up from a hairdryer. I gently stroked his chest, letting myself enjoy the sleek, soft fluff, before remembering where I was and pulling back. “Sorry, yes, I love it. But why are you so small now?”
I already knew the answer, but I just had to hear it from someone else to really be sure about it. “I’m not small, you just got bigger. I’m guessing the experiment worked?” I nodded, and I could swear he blushed as I ruffled the fur on his head.
We spent the rest of the afternoon just relaxing in the warm water. It was certainly strange to not be wearing any clothes in public, but according to flick this was standard for most federation species. In fact, wearing clothes was mostly reserved for high-ranking titles or those who needed the extra warmth or protection. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to not having at least a shirt and some shorts on, but I could put up with it for a day.
I wonder how well that stuff did at restoring my eyes though? Because I really want him to see what they’re meant to look like.
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submitted by FLUFFCAT13 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
as always, enjoy. next one will be focused on the city-fleet, and there's trouble brewing, but that's coming once I've done part 3 of The New Smith
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Subject Memory Transcription: Flick, Venlil Civilian
Being a civilian was almost surreal. For the first time in my life, people weren’t scared of me, and noone avoided me in the streets. Of course, being in another town helped quite a bit with that, but even a change of scenery wasn’t normally enough to have people treating me as part of the herd. Well, they didn’t avoid me, anyway. Having Orvin by my side scared off most of the smaller Venlil, but I didn’t mind too much. It was still much more friendly than I was used to, and that alone was enough to cheer me up.
Orvin had booked a day out somewhere, but he was refusing to tell me where. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him to know what I would enjoy, it was more so that my reputation may cause some trouble for us. I still went with him though, because a day spent with him was better than anything I could do at home.
As we strolled through the unfamiliar streets, he chatted noisily about quantum physics, which was a personal interest of his. This time he was explaining the basics of quantum tunnelling to me, which was well beyond what I could understand, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise since he was clearly enjoying explaining it.
“So then, since you can’t directly observe the particles, you have to somehow get them to measure themselves. So the solution was to get them to bump into weak magnetic fields to turn them like clock hands, and get them to be their own timers. You still with me?”
I nodded and tried my best to not seem disinterested, and he continued his rant about what sounded like pure insanity wrapped in a scientific method, which let my thoughts wander across the last few days.
The morning after what he had jokingly called the “day of reckoning”, I had submitted my resignation letter and leaked all of the previously classified documents to the press. It had caused a huge panic among the local government. In fact, had I not been the one to leak the documents, I would likely be caught up in the hurricane of investigations and resignations.
Thursday had actually been the first time I had seen Orvin show any violence though. One of the Magisters had sent a large police detachment to arrest me for “treason”, and they raided our home in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, the two of us were wrapped up in blankets watching an old Terran film, so I was quickly seized. This put Orvin into a full rage that ended with every single officer having their steel helmets peeled from their heads, their riot shields cracked and ruined, and their uniforms shredded by claws that cut cast iron like wet paper. Thankfully, the only major injury in the fight was one officer having his arm broken by impacting a wall, so we got off fairly lightly under “self defence” when the case came before a judge.
This did screw things up though. Once the incident went public, it became clear that people were terrified of Orvin. He had single handedly knocked down and disarmed twenty three officers, including fourteen terrans, which led to him gaining a reputation as a danger to the public. He blamed himself for that, and I could tell that it still weighed heavy on his mind that he had done so much damage so quickly, but honestly I was just glad that he was willing to protect me when I couldn’t protect myself. I just hoped I could undo the damage those words from the judge had done.
As kind as she had been, her ruling stated that “all injuries caused were self-inflicted by attacking a dangerous predator unprovoked”, which really made me angry. I could see that Orvin had taken that remark personally, and since the hearing ended he had been so cautious it genuinely worried me. It was like he suddenly believed himself to be the monster that others saw him as, and I hated that.
Maybe I can make things better today
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Subject Memory Transcription: Orvin, Venlil Civilian
When the police raided us, I responded with unthinking violence. Sure, noone got badly injured, but it wasn’t because I was restraining myself or anything. My killer instincts took over when I saw Flick being cuffed, and I sent one of them into a wall and knocked the others down, and it scared me.
Knowing that I was on a hair trigger was terrifying. It meant that anything could set me off, and that I could suddenly go feral and cause irreparable damage to people around me. But most of all, I was worried about Flick. It had taken a lot of hard work to get this far, and I didn’t want to suddenly lose everything just because of my programming kicking in and killing someone. Thankfully, today would give me some time to take care of some issues.
I hadn’t told him, but I booked us both a day at a “rejuvenation clinic”. Well, sort of. I had managed to get him there in a 2-for-1 deal, since I was already booked there for medical reasons.
I was actually headed there for a very different kind of rejuvenation. In my last visit to the doctor, I had given a series of samples for them to extrapolate. Today, I would be submerged in a massive vat of stem cells that had been growing since last week. The idea was that, by supplying unlimited amounts of stem cells, we could reactivate my body’s construction protocols and possibly repair the damage done to it. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I was more than willing to give it a shot, and since I wasn’t paying for it there was no real reason not to take a day out of my empty schedule and lie in a pool of my own DNA.
I bet it’s all slimy and gross
“Soooooo, where are we going?” Flick’s voice brought me back to reality. We were almost there, so I decided to tell him. “We’re heading to some rejuvenation clinic, for a relaxing day off. It was originally going to be just me going, but I managed to convince them to let you tag along.”
He gave me a confused look. “And you were headed there why exactly?” there was no point lying to him, but I just had to not get his hopes up, since this was very experimental. “The doctors are testing something. They’re going to get me to lie in a pool of my own stem cells in the hopes that my body’s construction program will restart and repair me. Of course, this place also does plenty of other stuff, so we’ll have a lot of time together, but don’t be too surprised if I get dragged away at various times.”
He smiled at me and rubbed my forearm with one paw. “If it has a chance at helping you, I really don’t mind. Just promise me we get to do something together for my birthday next week, okay?”
Oh shit, I forgot about that
“Sounds good. By the way, we’re here!”
Looking at the building, it was a sandy yellow concrete wave at odds with everything nearby, studded with seashells and bare of windows except for the flowing green glass roof that shone a single ray of sunlight down onto the front entrance. I stepped through the double doors, venlil in tow, and the gojid at the front desk handed us our cards without even looking up.
A pair of UN guards escorted me to the chamber I would be spending the next few hours in, and a tiny attendant took Flick to the hot springs. Once I was inside the room, a human scientist explained the whole experiment to me, and passed me an oxygen tube which I put into my mouth and strapped in place, before opening the steel lid on a circular vat filled with light pink goop.
Yep, gross and slimy alright
I took a deep breath, gave a thumbs up, and sank into the viscous pool. It was ice cold and thick like glue, but surprisingly comfortable as I found the seat and relaxed. Then, the lid came down, the lights went off, and the water level rose, submerging me in the dark, cold slime.
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Subject Memory Transcription: Flick, Venlil Civilian
Once Orvin was gone, a venlil barely up to my chest guided me through winding halls and into the main room. It was a beautiful garden bathed in filtered sunlight, with columns of steam rising from each of the fake volcanic baths. It looked like a magical place to spend an afternoon, but it was a sign on the other end of the room that really caught my eye.
Fur dye & styling
I skipped straight past all the warm water and other comforts, and straight into the salon. The female Krakotl at a desk clearly wasn’t expecting such a tall customer though, and visibly recoiled at the sight of me when I leaned on her desk and requested black dye.
She didn’t take long to recover though, since a paying customer was a paying customer. “Right this way sir, just take a seat in one of the chairs and we’ll set up the dye for you.” She ushered me to a cushioned reclining chair, and I positioned myself comfortably. She then fussed with a machine that was sitting just over my head, before giving it a slap with her wing and stepping back from me. “Just sit still, this will only take a minute to calibrate for you.”
There was a buzzing sound, and the chair under me vibrated as the machine above me traced lasers across my head and chest. I had no clue what was going on here, but it seemed like this was just a scanner of sorts to get measurements for something else. I sat still as what felt like robotic arms pressed against my back and neck, and closed my eyes as a line traced its way across my full face, then it dinged.
After that, I was escorted to what looked like a shower, or maybe one of those terran carwashes. I stood inside the machine while she put some code into it, then gave me a nod before flicking something that brought the machine to life. A screen blinked in front of me telling me to stand with legs apart and arms up, then to close my eyes and hold my breath. Once I did so, there was a whirring sound, and a cold mist sprayed across my whole body for what felt like an eternity.
Once the mist was gone, something brushed against me, and it felt like it was scrubbing my fur all over. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but it was not something I was used to either, so it was awkward as brushes went all over me and put what felt like some sort of oil into every inch of fur. It actually tickled a little, and took all of my energy just to resist the urge to move and swat at the brushes as they made their way across my head.
And then, it was over. Warm water poured over me and washed everything off, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief, before gasping for air as I realised I had empty lungs when I exhaled. I let my eyes adjust to the lights again, and took a good look at myself in the mirror on the chamber wall. It was certainly strange to see, but now I was jet black, and it suited me.
A tap on the glass brought me back to the real world, and I stepped out into the salon again. The Krakotl charged me for the dye, and gave me a tube of gel to seal my fur. I thanked her, and headed out to the pools to go for a relaxing soak while I waited for Orvin.
As I sank into the warm water, I could feel the bubbles massaging my sore muscles. I still had some bruises from the raid, but I didn’t want to worry him about them, so I hid my injuries. It still hurt, but at least this way he wouldn’t worry too much about me.
I just hope he doesn’t freak out over the makeover
I set a timer for an hour, and sank neck deep into the relaxing pool to take a short rest.
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Subject Memory Transcription: Orvin, Venlil Civilian
I was woken up by the sounds of metal clanging. It was still dark, but now the goop was warm and comfortable. I stretched out and almost yawned, only stopping myself when I felt the plastic bit hit one fang as a reminder of my oxygen tube.
As my limbs extended, I felt refreshed. It was an unfamiliar feeling as joints rolled smoothly, and tendons stretched perfectly across bone. I could feel muscles pulling with a renewed force, and my skin tingled slightly as it stretched and moved over my freshly repaired frame. It felt incredible as I tested each appendage, each claw, and every single one responded without any pain.
The hatch clanged open, and there were shouts as paws reached in to grab me, but I simply stood up and pulled myself from out of the gunk. Although it sucked and dragged, I still had enough strength to overcome it, and stepped out onto the grated floor of the off-white chamber. I blinked under the intense fluorescent lights, and stood still as I was blasted clean by hoses. The water steamed as it hit me, and I could feel myself cooling off under the tide of cool liquid.
“Alright, he’s stable, cut the water.” the human voice cut through the mental fog and kicked my brain into gear. “So, how are you feeling?”
I didn’t really know how to explain it, so I put it as best as I could into terms that ordinary people could understand. “Very refreshed, like I’ve just had a good sleep and woken up on a warm spring morning. I feel alive.”
Some of the venlil were taking notes furiously as another human circled me, taking assorted measurements. Then, he stood straight up in front of me, and opened my mouth to measure my jaws. Such a thing would be considered an invitation for a nasty bite if you did it to a normal Scion, but at least I was better than that. He then looked me dead in the eyes and asked me about my body temperature.
Scion temperature is extremely flexible. In fact, core temperature can range anywhere from 25 to 58 degrees, with surface temperature ranging from 3 to 87 degrees. This was because of our home planet having an extremely volatile environment. During the days, it would be well over 100°C, and nights would drop below -50°C due to the total lack of atmospheric insulation. This forced us to evolve fur to preserve internal temperatures, but also to be very flexible so we could hunt nights and days, as Scions ran on 26-hour cycles, while our home planet had 33 hour days, so we would often be out of sync with sunrise and sunset so as to catch all sorts of prey.
Of course, since I was submerged in that goop with all my cells working at full power, my body had naturally began heating up, so it was likely that they had stopped the experiment when I crossed the 50 degree mark, which explained the water blasting.
“Don’t worry about my temperature. As long as I don’t go over about 56°C core or 85°C surface, I’m perfectly fine.” I explained, as the venlil furiously crossed out and rewrote notes. The human nodded and guided me to another room where a set of machines were waiting for me. They were the same ones I had been tested on before being submerged, so I recognised their functions. The first one weighed me, the second one took a small tissue sample, the third one scanned for bone structure, the fourth for muscle-to-fat ratios, and the fifth for blood vessels and nerve pathways. Once they had the results of each, I was given a sandwich, a sugary drink, and sent back out into the day spa.
As I strolled through the halls, I almost tripped over a jet-black venlil, who seemed just a little shorter than Flick was, and quickly apologised to him. The venlil wrapped his arms around me though, taking me by surprise before it clicked in my brain.
“Hah, didn’t recognise you for a second there. What’s with the new colour?” I asked. He responded by twirling around like a showoff, letting his glossy coat glimmer under the white skylights illuminating the hallway. “I went for a bit of a makeover while you were busy. Do you like it?”
I loved it. He looked so fluffy now, with the freshly brushed fur puffed up from a hairdryer. I gently stroked his chest, letting myself enjoy the sleek, soft fluff, before remembering where I was and pulling back. “Sorry, yes, I love it. But why are you so small now?”
I already knew the answer, but I just had to hear it from someone else to really be sure about it. “I’m not small, you just got bigger. I’m guessing the experiment worked?” I nodded, and I could swear he blushed as I ruffled the fur on his head.
We spent the rest of the afternoon just relaxing in the warm water. It was certainly strange to not be wearing any clothes in public, but according to flick this was standard for most federation species. In fact, wearing clothes was mostly reserved for high-ranking titles or those who needed the extra warmth or protection. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to not having at least a shirt and some shorts on, but I could put up with it for a day.
I wonder how well that stuff did at restoring my eyes though? Because I really want him to see what they’re meant to look like.
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2023.03.29 03:25 LooseScrew2266 New Anzzi kitchen faucet has super low water pressure.
We recently had a new kitchen faucet installed and the water pressure is so low on both hot and cold. I'm assuming it's a factory installed "governor" for the pressure. I can't deal with how wimpy the stream is. The sprayer is even super low and won't even reach the far end of the sink itself.
I've included a link to the parts breakdown here: https://imgur.com/a/r5lFH5s. Can someone tell me which cartridge/governowasher needs removed to remedy this problem? And if identified, any suggestion on what I need to use to replace where the piece was? At one point, I thought I located the annoying piece but once I removed it, I couldn't get the faucet back together. doh.
We live in Ohio and there are no laws saying we need to limit water usage like we had in California. The rest of the house has beautiful medium strong pressure as did the kitchen before replacing the faucet. I'd love to be able to fill a pot of water in less than 5 mins.
Thank you in advance!
submitted by LooseScrew2266 to askaplumber [link] [comments]
I've included a link to the parts breakdown here: https://imgur.com/a/r5lFH5s. Can someone tell me which cartridge/governowasher needs removed to remedy this problem? And if identified, any suggestion on what I need to use to replace where the piece was? At one point, I thought I located the annoying piece but once I removed it, I couldn't get the faucet back together. doh.
We live in Ohio and there are no laws saying we need to limit water usage like we had in California. The rest of the house has beautiful medium strong pressure as did the kitchen before replacing the faucet. I'd love to be able to fill a pot of water in less than 5 mins.
Thank you in advance!
2023.03.29 02:22 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, Kara Gamma, BFK Freehand, BFK Bright Water, Spec Gloves Kimono, Nomad Fade, M9 Doppler, Skeleton, BFK B.Steel, AWP Fade, Stiletto Fade, S.Gloves Slingshot, BFK Ultra, Kara Damas, Bayo Lore, Bayo Gamma, Flip Fade & A Lot More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $1867
★ Butterfly Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $1098
★ Butterfly Knife Blue Steel BS, B/O: $907
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $789
★ Butterfly Knife Stained FT, B/O: $695
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $888
★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $727
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $608
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $521
★ Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $253
★ Bayonet Night FT, B/O: $251
★ StatTrak™ Bayonet Lore MW, B/O: $751
⎯★ Karambit Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1343
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $774
★ Karambit Rust Coat BS, B/O: $537
★ Karambit Boreal Forest FT, B/O: $488
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1008
★ M9 Bayonet Blue Steel FT, B/O: $534
★ M9 Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $449
⎯★ Flip Knife Fade FN, B/O: $703
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $509
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $406
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $228
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $332
⎯★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $292
★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $264
★ Falchion Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Falchion Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $133
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Fade FN, B/O: $822
★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $569
★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $530
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $396
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $172
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $830
★ Gut Knife Fade FN, B/O: $204
★ Gut Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $138
★ Gut Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $104
★ Gut Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $92
★ Gut Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $82
★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $93
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $165
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Bright Water FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel WW, B/O: $80
★ Shadow Daggers Rust Coat BS, B/O: $74
★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade FN, B/O: $186
⎯★ Classic Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $311
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $163
⎯★ Talon Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $605
★ Talon Knife Scorched MW, B/O: $290
⎯★ Ursus Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $405
★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe MW, B/O: $162
⎯★ Paracord Knife Stained WW, B/O: $125
★ Paracord Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
★ Paracord Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $96
⎯★ Navaja Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $71
★ Navaja Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $71
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1015
★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $909
★ Bowie Knife Boreal Forest MW, B/O: $106
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $335
★ Driver Gloves King Snake BS, B/O: $270
★ Driver Gloves Lunar Weave WW, B/O: $113
★ Driver Gloves Overtake WW, B/O: $88
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $67
⎯★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $171
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $137
★ Moto Gloves Transport WW, B/O: $71
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $62
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1027
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $654
★ Specialist Gloves Mogul FT, B/O: $295
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $277
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web FT, B/O: $275
⎯★ Sport Gloves Slingshot FT, B/O: $796
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $699
★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $656
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Unhinged BS, B/O: $60
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $864
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $84
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Wildfire FT, B/O: $59
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $59
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Printstream FN, B/O: $155
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $58
⎯M4A1-S Icarus Fell FN, B/O: $414
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1402
M4A4 The Emperor FN, B/O: $152
M4A4 Asiimov WW, B/O: $97
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $65
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $123
StatTrak™ USP-S Neo-Noir FN, B/O: $106
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $218
P2000 Ocean Foam FN, B/O: $139
Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike MW, B/O: $81
CZ75-Auto Emerald Quartz MW, B/O: $61
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2023.03.29 01:45 Disaster0k Looking for an ultimate yet somewhat portable desktop replacement.
With my university graduation right around the corner, it has been my longstanding goal to get myself a brand new rig as a "you made it through 4 years" present. I love my i5-8600k and 1060 desktop, but its started squelching and rumbling a bit too much for my taste, so I'm in the market for a complete makeover.
The original plan was to get myself a new desktop along with a makeover of my room. However, some plans have changed for the better. This summer, I'll be traveling for personal pleasure and to study abroad. While I'll also be pursuing my MA next fall and spring, I plan on moving and working abroad once that's finished. So I came to the decision that getting a giant new rig and setup would be a bit too much of a hassle. I wouldn't want to drop my entire budget on a desktop only to be constantly moving around. So, a laptop has become my best bet.
Being outside of the loop of the gaming laptop market, I figured coming here would be best. I've been doing some digging myself, but I tend to be the guy who flip flops 400 times before a purchase and always makes the wrong one. Buying a nice laptop 4 years ago might've saved me the price of an iPad Pro, MacBook, and a SteamDeck, and although I love all of these things, there's always a major compromise that leaves a certain part of me often disappointed.
Something that popped up was the Asus Strix Scar 16 with the 4080 from this year. It's been tough to find info or stock of these newer laptops, but after seeing a couple of videos and reviews, these laptops seem to be real beasts. While I'm not one for flashiness, I actually found myself liking the crazy RGB of the Strix Scar, and the 16th inch seems a good size to take where I plan on going while also having connectivity to support linking up to a monitor and making it a desktop-like experience. And that mini-LED screen...it's just pretty. The price is also hard to beat, and it seems to be cooled very efficiently.
Then a massive wrench was thrown in my goop brain: Razer. No matter the amount of horror stories I hear, or the price tag, I've always loved the way Razers have looked since way back when my cousin had that roundish Blade 14. I mean, I bought a MacBook. Clearly, price means nothing in the face of aesthetics and sleekness. My dream laptop is probably that Blade 14 mercury edition, but I've come to understand that those laptops just have a harder time pushing out power in that form factor. They look great and perform great, but I want something that's really gonna last and be the ultimate machine for at least until I'm able to settle down and build a PC of my own.
I also looked at the newer Blade 16, but found that, although that screen is nice, I'd rather have a 4080 or 4090 than a 4070, and no ethernet port is kind of a bummer, even if this can be solved by a dongle (truthfully, I'm tired of dongles). Then came the 18. I really like the way this laptop looks. Massive yet still thin, and although less portable than a 16 inch, still able to be lugged around on trips to it's next desk-stination. I like the ethernet, I love the SD card slot, I cherish the simple style (again, MacBook brainlet), and I enjoy the overall package. But, with great Razer comes great price-tag. At nearly a thousand smackers more than the Strix for the 4080 (and, from what I've seen, arguably worse performace), and an arm and a leg for a 4090, I've really been thrown.
On one hand, the Strix seems like the no brainer. Numbers wise, it's just the clear winner. Mini-led, price, RGB, performance. It all adds up to what should be an easy decision. But I'm a poor decision maker. I figure, if I'm going all out, might as well go all out. I love the look of the Razer more and more, and if I'm comparing the 4080, might as well jump up to the 4090 at $4,500! This is replacing a desktop, so that's no problem! But I also want to be practical. I guess I'm looking for an angel AND a devil on each shoulder. If you think the Strix is a no brainer like the smart, calculating side of my brain, let me know! Tell me how smooth that Mini-LED screen is and how great an extra $2000 in my pocket will feel. But if you're like the emotionally unstable part of my brain, tell me that the Razer really is just that good. That even though it's a premium price tag, the 4090 version inside that chassis could never look or feel so good.
Alternatively, drop some other recommendations! I know MSI is very popular, but that's just a bit too big for me. If I want size, I want it to look well. Otherwise, I'm in the market for 16 inches that can do a bit of both. If you've read this far, thanks! I hope it wasn't boring. I'm just a person struggling to make a decision, so any input at this stage is appreciated. Give me the pros and cons, your own experiences, biases, and whatnot. I just wanna hear some more info on these, if anyone has any!
submitted by Disaster0k to GamingLaptops [link] [comments]
The original plan was to get myself a new desktop along with a makeover of my room. However, some plans have changed for the better. This summer, I'll be traveling for personal pleasure and to study abroad. While I'll also be pursuing my MA next fall and spring, I plan on moving and working abroad once that's finished. So I came to the decision that getting a giant new rig and setup would be a bit too much of a hassle. I wouldn't want to drop my entire budget on a desktop only to be constantly moving around. So, a laptop has become my best bet.
Being outside of the loop of the gaming laptop market, I figured coming here would be best. I've been doing some digging myself, but I tend to be the guy who flip flops 400 times before a purchase and always makes the wrong one. Buying a nice laptop 4 years ago might've saved me the price of an iPad Pro, MacBook, and a SteamDeck, and although I love all of these things, there's always a major compromise that leaves a certain part of me often disappointed.
Something that popped up was the Asus Strix Scar 16 with the 4080 from this year. It's been tough to find info or stock of these newer laptops, but after seeing a couple of videos and reviews, these laptops seem to be real beasts. While I'm not one for flashiness, I actually found myself liking the crazy RGB of the Strix Scar, and the 16th inch seems a good size to take where I plan on going while also having connectivity to support linking up to a monitor and making it a desktop-like experience. And that mini-LED screen...it's just pretty. The price is also hard to beat, and it seems to be cooled very efficiently.
Then a massive wrench was thrown in my goop brain: Razer. No matter the amount of horror stories I hear, or the price tag, I've always loved the way Razers have looked since way back when my cousin had that roundish Blade 14. I mean, I bought a MacBook. Clearly, price means nothing in the face of aesthetics and sleekness. My dream laptop is probably that Blade 14 mercury edition, but I've come to understand that those laptops just have a harder time pushing out power in that form factor. They look great and perform great, but I want something that's really gonna last and be the ultimate machine for at least until I'm able to settle down and build a PC of my own.
I also looked at the newer Blade 16, but found that, although that screen is nice, I'd rather have a 4080 or 4090 than a 4070, and no ethernet port is kind of a bummer, even if this can be solved by a dongle (truthfully, I'm tired of dongles). Then came the 18. I really like the way this laptop looks. Massive yet still thin, and although less portable than a 16 inch, still able to be lugged around on trips to it's next desk-stination. I like the ethernet, I love the SD card slot, I cherish the simple style (again, MacBook brainlet), and I enjoy the overall package. But, with great Razer comes great price-tag. At nearly a thousand smackers more than the Strix for the 4080 (and, from what I've seen, arguably worse performace), and an arm and a leg for a 4090, I've really been thrown.
On one hand, the Strix seems like the no brainer. Numbers wise, it's just the clear winner. Mini-led, price, RGB, performance. It all adds up to what should be an easy decision. But I'm a poor decision maker. I figure, if I'm going all out, might as well go all out. I love the look of the Razer more and more, and if I'm comparing the 4080, might as well jump up to the 4090 at $4,500! This is replacing a desktop, so that's no problem! But I also want to be practical. I guess I'm looking for an angel AND a devil on each shoulder. If you think the Strix is a no brainer like the smart, calculating side of my brain, let me know! Tell me how smooth that Mini-LED screen is and how great an extra $2000 in my pocket will feel. But if you're like the emotionally unstable part of my brain, tell me that the Razer really is just that good. That even though it's a premium price tag, the 4090 version inside that chassis could never look or feel so good.
Alternatively, drop some other recommendations! I know MSI is very popular, but that's just a bit too big for me. If I want size, I want it to look well. Otherwise, I'm in the market for 16 inches that can do a bit of both. If you've read this far, thanks! I hope it wasn't boring. I'm just a person struggling to make a decision, so any input at this stage is appreciated. Give me the pros and cons, your own experiences, biases, and whatnot. I just wanna hear some more info on these, if anyone has any!
2023.03.29 01:15 MA006 Lost Amongst the Stars (Chaper 1)
Memories of Matriarch Sundisk, 3rd Chief of Sapwater Village, Recovered Post-Mortem
With my back-mounted mechanical arm, I grabbed some of the orange berries from my shoulder bag. My trunk then instinctively handled them into my mouth whilst I stared at the screen. The expenses for Sapwater Village defiantly stared back at me. As the village’s matriarch, it was up to me to handle all this expenditure. The village’s reserves could only stretch so far, even with the generous funding of our benefactors. Maybe if we limited the fuel consumption of the herd, and set limits on-
Suddenly, I was on edge. A low rumbling of distress came from the watchtower west of the village, and my tail stood on end- the low noises communicated something was approaching our village. My species’ ability to communicate over long distances came in handy in situations like this, but what could possibly be such an important threat out here? We were on a rather out of the way planet. Sure enough, a comm from the Northwest watchtower popped up on my device, and I opened the channel. Syrupeyes, the watch guard, appeared on my screen.
Before I could say anything, she cut me off. “A human is coming.”
“What?” I trumpeted. My mind raced. Why were the uplifters here? We were a small colony on the outskirts of treaty-space. What had we done which was important enough for direct contact? To my knowledge, we hadn’t breached any treaties, let alone a major one! The humans even gave their blessing to this colony! If our funding got cut, we likely wouldn’t survive the dry season! Maybe it was just a civilian… I held on to that hope.
“Did you see any insignia on them? Are they an ambassador?” I asked.
“They were in a blank exosuit. Seemed to be Library-of-Gaia-make. What should I tell the people to do?” replied Syrupeyes.
This did put my mind somewhat at ease, Gaians would probably only be interested in documenting the wildlife of the planet. Still, it would probably be best if the human put in a good word with the library, so we should at least have a welcoming ceremony.
“Well, a welcoming ceremony is likely in order. I’ll make an announcement shortly, just let them know to prepare,” I replied.
With a simple affirmative, Syrupeyes shortly ended the comm. Promptly, a rumble let everyone know to prepare for festivities. I chuckled softly to myself as I heard squeaks and trumpets of excitement from the nursery. No time to waste then, people were probably confused. I opened the announcement system and started explaining the situation to people, and giving instructions. Bustling noises made it through the door as activity in the village picked up. Time to prepare.
I walked through the curtains into a small dark room lit by luminescent strips around the central mirror. I started falling into the routine of applying the ceremonial face paint, grounding myself in the familiar textures and colours of the powders. Face paint finished, I then chewed on some of the aromatic herbs available. Finally, I replaced my current shoulder-pack with a more elegant one for special occasions. With that, I was ready to head out.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Log (error, indexing corrupted) of Pino Jacinta, Unaffiliated
The clanking of my exosuit was what kept me awake, despite my body screaming at me to rest after walking for what felt like days. Yet a feeling of inertia kept me going, unable to make the effort to stop. At that point, I was certain the only reason I could still stand was thanks to the hydraulics system of the suit. I was in a constant state of near-collapse.
I had put on the suit in a haze after I had fallen out of my cryo chamber. When the suit had turned on, it immediately started processing notifications about translator updates and unsent messages which my mind did not let me focus on. Maybe due to the cryosleep, my memories were hazy and I did not remember how I ended up here from Shi Maria station. I don’t know why but I started walking, but not knowing what else to do, I continued on, held up by the hydraulics of the suit. In the periphery of my vision, the notifications still sat there, easy to ignore.
It was then that a notification popped up, more prominent than the rest - no, too loud to be a notification, an alarm? My mind was feeling even more hazy. I had to force myself to read it, word after word. I had to repeat the word “low” thrice, the word “oxygen” seven times and the word “warning” four times before my brain processed them into a coherent sentence.
Low oxygen warning. Huh.
I then noticed it was getting harder to breath, to the point where I was hyperventilating. Then, the world was spinning. Despite my suit’s best efforts, I stumbled. That was when the panic began to set in. I was going to choke. Not knowing who I was. Not knowing where I was. This is where my life would start flashing before my eyes, if I remembered any of it. There were plants outside. Despite the hours I spent walking, it only just set in. Plants meant atmosphere, oxygen. Grasping at my helmet, I looked for a way, any way to pull it off. It was firmly stuck on. I was struggling to breathe now. Half-remembered, a memory flashed in my mind. A warm presence, a hand around my wrist guiding it up to the base of the helmet. I gripped a latch, and pulled. The faceplate slid up. Air.
I breathed deeply. The air was rather hot and dry, but to my oxygen-deprived lungs felt incredibly refreshing. It carried the scent of dried grass and hard-packed earth. My eyes began to focus, and the lilac grasses and distant trees once again came into view, in bright light. Sounds of alien birds and insects carried across the plains, unfamiliar sounds. With what little strength I could gather, I rolled myself onto my back, and saw a soft blue sky, and clouds weren’t blocking the intensity of the bright white star of this planet. Only a few thin wisps of cloud could be seen at all, and the sky was otherwise featureless except for the birds circling overhead. A cool breeze was blowing against my skin, softening the harsh heat.
Whilst I rested, out of some ingrained instinct, I started mentally scanning my body. My feet felt numb, but otherwise seemed fine. Other than my feet, my legs ached the most, and I felt fibres of stiffness in them. My waist hurts slightly, some kind of a stitch in my lower abdomen. Resting soothed the pain, I could barely feel it now. I could still feel a burning sensation in my lungs, from earlier, and my heart was fluttering still. Deep breaths. Shoulders and arms were surprisingly alright, although with the same strands of stiffness, and my hands felt slightly clammy but otherwise good. Since I had gotten out of cryo my neck still ached, a strange kind of itchy ache. Best I could do at the moment was to squirm in my suit to soothe the itchiness. My face was fine, but my eyes hurt a bit. There was no reason to have done that self-scan, I couldn’t exactly treat any of those, but my mind had been acting weird since I had woken up, so I didn’t question it. Now that I had taken some time to rest, I forced myself up, pushing against my exhaustion with a bit of help from the suit.
I then took time to orient myself, and looked around. To one side, the land got more flat, and rather unremarkable as even the sparse trees faded out in the distance. Other than that, the land was mostly similar to where I was now, except for one more hilly region where trees seemed slightly concentrated around. Looking closer, I saw silhouettes on that hill, strange bumps and squares-
Was that a village?
Once again, the repetitive clanking of my suit was keeping me awake.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Memories of Matriarch Sundisk, 3rd Chief of Sapwater Village, Recovered Post-Mortem
I had ordered the villagers to collect up a basket of fruit, as part of the ceremony. One of the elder Yaan had provided a flower garland, to place upon our guest. We had also set up the sunset lamps, traditional for all festivities. For as much as this young colony had traditions. We also set up air-cons near the entrance, as wasteful as air-cons in the open were. It was proper to be lavish for a welcoming ceremony. The reception crew consisted of myself, some guards, and the village priest. (It was determined that role was necessary for colony morale. As long as they didn’t interfere with my work, I went along with it.) We were still preparing, and I heard some murmuring about the ceremony, so I felt the need to intervene.
“Remember, the Gaians have been partial to our colony so far. They’ve been pressuring various human governments to maintain our funding. We need to maintain amicable terms with them for the sake of this colony! This ceremony is clearly in order! It is not worth it to risk a grievance, even if it does turn out to be a civilian,” I reminded them. Communication, as always, was important.
As I watched, I noticed the human was not using a vehicle at all, just walking. Would it be polite to offer a ride, or would that be viewed as an insult? I wasn’t entirely sure about human customs. After some consideration, I decided on a compromise: I would walk down the hill to meet them. It couldn’t be considered an insult as I was only walking with them, not making them take a transport, but still provided some level of courtesy to a guest, if nothing else at least signifying good will. I walked down to meet the human, and noticed their odd walk. Likely thanks to the help of the Gaian exosuit, the human’s legs moved perfectly, even mechanically, but the torso was slightly swaying as if it was unsteady. Maybe that was just how bipeds walked? I ran with that theory, right up until I reached the human.
When we met, the human promptly collapsed.
I panicked. This was not how the ceremony was supposed to go. Immediately, I tried to pull the human up by my trunk, and the rest of the ceremony crew rushed down to help me. Unsurprisingly, the human wasn’t that heavy. Still, we did need to pull them uphill, so with considerable effort we carried the unconscious human. I was slightly relieved that this likely meant they were not sent by the Library, unless something had gone seriously wrong in their mission.
We carried the human into one of our guesthouses, and I had called for the village’s medic. The human’s faceplate was off, but the helmet was still on. They had brownish-beige skin and dark brown hair with streaks of green. I couldn’t narrow down an origin from that though - that was a common skin colour amongst humans as far as i knew, and humans often changed hair colour. I had the guards prepare a bed - the regular beds were overly large for the human, but we managed to find a smaller one made for children. We’d probably need to remove the suit to provide medical attention, so I decided to work on that.
Removing the helmet was the easy part, there were a few buckles along the collarbones, along with some airtight seals. Once I pulled the helmet off, I tried looking for a way to remove the rest of the suit, searching the interlocking plates and fabric of the exosuit until I found some more latches. After pulling on three, along the back, the suit opened at last. I was shocked at how cute the human was - I always imagined them as regal and somewhat intimidating. They wore an old fashioned starship uniform, with “CSS Carmina” embroidered on it. Looking past that, I layed the human on the bed and let the doctor, Dawn, tend to them.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Log (error, indexing corrupted) of Pino Jacinta, Unaffiliated
I woke up under the blaring sun. In a building, without my suit. The building was simple, made out of clay, but had intricate patterned windows carved out of it, which conveniently let the bright sunlight fall right on my face. I felt some kind of air mattress below me, although I could tell there was no bedframe with low to the floor I was. What little furniture was present in this room towered over me. Luckily, whoever my hosts were were courteous enough to provide an air-con unit, which cooled down my skin despite the sunlight on me. My throat felt dry and cracked. Pushing myself away from the sunlight, I saw a bowl of water on the floor next to me, which I tried my best to drink from despite the very awkward shape. Looking up from the bowl, I noticed an elephant sitting across from me. It had a mechanical arm mounted on its back. It trumpeted at me, and the translator picked it up.
“You were talking in your sleep.”
Huh. Elephant was sapient. Good to know.
Slightly unsure as to how to proceed, I asked; “where am I?”
“You are in Sapwater Village. You fell unconscious so we provided medical attention. You were severely dehydrated and fatigued,” came the reply.
“No I mean.. What planet? I thought I was on Shi Maria”
The translator read the elephant’s expression as confusion.
“... Shi Maria was destroyed 50 years ago. You’re on a planet called Aisha.”
submitted by MA006 to HFY [link] [comments]
With my back-mounted mechanical arm, I grabbed some of the orange berries from my shoulder bag. My trunk then instinctively handled them into my mouth whilst I stared at the screen. The expenses for Sapwater Village defiantly stared back at me. As the village’s matriarch, it was up to me to handle all this expenditure. The village’s reserves could only stretch so far, even with the generous funding of our benefactors. Maybe if we limited the fuel consumption of the herd, and set limits on-
Suddenly, I was on edge. A low rumbling of distress came from the watchtower west of the village, and my tail stood on end- the low noises communicated something was approaching our village. My species’ ability to communicate over long distances came in handy in situations like this, but what could possibly be such an important threat out here? We were on a rather out of the way planet. Sure enough, a comm from the Northwest watchtower popped up on my device, and I opened the channel. Syrupeyes, the watch guard, appeared on my screen.
Before I could say anything, she cut me off. “A human is coming.”
“What?” I trumpeted. My mind raced. Why were the uplifters here? We were a small colony on the outskirts of treaty-space. What had we done which was important enough for direct contact? To my knowledge, we hadn’t breached any treaties, let alone a major one! The humans even gave their blessing to this colony! If our funding got cut, we likely wouldn’t survive the dry season! Maybe it was just a civilian… I held on to that hope.
“Did you see any insignia on them? Are they an ambassador?” I asked.
“They were in a blank exosuit. Seemed to be Library-of-Gaia-make. What should I tell the people to do?” replied Syrupeyes.
This did put my mind somewhat at ease, Gaians would probably only be interested in documenting the wildlife of the planet. Still, it would probably be best if the human put in a good word with the library, so we should at least have a welcoming ceremony.
“Well, a welcoming ceremony is likely in order. I’ll make an announcement shortly, just let them know to prepare,” I replied.
With a simple affirmative, Syrupeyes shortly ended the comm. Promptly, a rumble let everyone know to prepare for festivities. I chuckled softly to myself as I heard squeaks and trumpets of excitement from the nursery. No time to waste then, people were probably confused. I opened the announcement system and started explaining the situation to people, and giving instructions. Bustling noises made it through the door as activity in the village picked up. Time to prepare.
I walked through the curtains into a small dark room lit by luminescent strips around the central mirror. I started falling into the routine of applying the ceremonial face paint, grounding myself in the familiar textures and colours of the powders. Face paint finished, I then chewed on some of the aromatic herbs available. Finally, I replaced my current shoulder-pack with a more elegant one for special occasions. With that, I was ready to head out.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Log (error, indexing corrupted) of Pino Jacinta, Unaffiliated
The clanking of my exosuit was what kept me awake, despite my body screaming at me to rest after walking for what felt like days. Yet a feeling of inertia kept me going, unable to make the effort to stop. At that point, I was certain the only reason I could still stand was thanks to the hydraulics system of the suit. I was in a constant state of near-collapse.
I had put on the suit in a haze after I had fallen out of my cryo chamber. When the suit had turned on, it immediately started processing notifications about translator updates and unsent messages which my mind did not let me focus on. Maybe due to the cryosleep, my memories were hazy and I did not remember how I ended up here from Shi Maria station. I don’t know why but I started walking, but not knowing what else to do, I continued on, held up by the hydraulics of the suit. In the periphery of my vision, the notifications still sat there, easy to ignore.
It was then that a notification popped up, more prominent than the rest - no, too loud to be a notification, an alarm? My mind was feeling even more hazy. I had to force myself to read it, word after word. I had to repeat the word “low” thrice, the word “oxygen” seven times and the word “warning” four times before my brain processed them into a coherent sentence.
Low oxygen warning. Huh.
I then noticed it was getting harder to breath, to the point where I was hyperventilating. Then, the world was spinning. Despite my suit’s best efforts, I stumbled. That was when the panic began to set in. I was going to choke. Not knowing who I was. Not knowing where I was. This is where my life would start flashing before my eyes, if I remembered any of it. There were plants outside. Despite the hours I spent walking, it only just set in. Plants meant atmosphere, oxygen. Grasping at my helmet, I looked for a way, any way to pull it off. It was firmly stuck on. I was struggling to breathe now. Half-remembered, a memory flashed in my mind. A warm presence, a hand around my wrist guiding it up to the base of the helmet. I gripped a latch, and pulled. The faceplate slid up. Air.
I breathed deeply. The air was rather hot and dry, but to my oxygen-deprived lungs felt incredibly refreshing. It carried the scent of dried grass and hard-packed earth. My eyes began to focus, and the lilac grasses and distant trees once again came into view, in bright light. Sounds of alien birds and insects carried across the plains, unfamiliar sounds. With what little strength I could gather, I rolled myself onto my back, and saw a soft blue sky, and clouds weren’t blocking the intensity of the bright white star of this planet. Only a few thin wisps of cloud could be seen at all, and the sky was otherwise featureless except for the birds circling overhead. A cool breeze was blowing against my skin, softening the harsh heat.
Whilst I rested, out of some ingrained instinct, I started mentally scanning my body. My feet felt numb, but otherwise seemed fine. Other than my feet, my legs ached the most, and I felt fibres of stiffness in them. My waist hurts slightly, some kind of a stitch in my lower abdomen. Resting soothed the pain, I could barely feel it now. I could still feel a burning sensation in my lungs, from earlier, and my heart was fluttering still. Deep breaths. Shoulders and arms were surprisingly alright, although with the same strands of stiffness, and my hands felt slightly clammy but otherwise good. Since I had gotten out of cryo my neck still ached, a strange kind of itchy ache. Best I could do at the moment was to squirm in my suit to soothe the itchiness. My face was fine, but my eyes hurt a bit. There was no reason to have done that self-scan, I couldn’t exactly treat any of those, but my mind had been acting weird since I had woken up, so I didn’t question it. Now that I had taken some time to rest, I forced myself up, pushing against my exhaustion with a bit of help from the suit.
I then took time to orient myself, and looked around. To one side, the land got more flat, and rather unremarkable as even the sparse trees faded out in the distance. Other than that, the land was mostly similar to where I was now, except for one more hilly region where trees seemed slightly concentrated around. Looking closer, I saw silhouettes on that hill, strange bumps and squares-
Was that a village?
Once again, the repetitive clanking of my suit was keeping me awake.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Memories of Matriarch Sundisk, 3rd Chief of Sapwater Village, Recovered Post-Mortem
I had ordered the villagers to collect up a basket of fruit, as part of the ceremony. One of the elder Yaan had provided a flower garland, to place upon our guest. We had also set up the sunset lamps, traditional for all festivities. For as much as this young colony had traditions. We also set up air-cons near the entrance, as wasteful as air-cons in the open were. It was proper to be lavish for a welcoming ceremony. The reception crew consisted of myself, some guards, and the village priest. (It was determined that role was necessary for colony morale. As long as they didn’t interfere with my work, I went along with it.) We were still preparing, and I heard some murmuring about the ceremony, so I felt the need to intervene.
“Remember, the Gaians have been partial to our colony so far. They’ve been pressuring various human governments to maintain our funding. We need to maintain amicable terms with them for the sake of this colony! This ceremony is clearly in order! It is not worth it to risk a grievance, even if it does turn out to be a civilian,” I reminded them. Communication, as always, was important.
As I watched, I noticed the human was not using a vehicle at all, just walking. Would it be polite to offer a ride, or would that be viewed as an insult? I wasn’t entirely sure about human customs. After some consideration, I decided on a compromise: I would walk down the hill to meet them. It couldn’t be considered an insult as I was only walking with them, not making them take a transport, but still provided some level of courtesy to a guest, if nothing else at least signifying good will. I walked down to meet the human, and noticed their odd walk. Likely thanks to the help of the Gaian exosuit, the human’s legs moved perfectly, even mechanically, but the torso was slightly swaying as if it was unsteady. Maybe that was just how bipeds walked? I ran with that theory, right up until I reached the human.
When we met, the human promptly collapsed.
I panicked. This was not how the ceremony was supposed to go. Immediately, I tried to pull the human up by my trunk, and the rest of the ceremony crew rushed down to help me. Unsurprisingly, the human wasn’t that heavy. Still, we did need to pull them uphill, so with considerable effort we carried the unconscious human. I was slightly relieved that this likely meant they were not sent by the Library, unless something had gone seriously wrong in their mission.
We carried the human into one of our guesthouses, and I had called for the village’s medic. The human’s faceplate was off, but the helmet was still on. They had brownish-beige skin and dark brown hair with streaks of green. I couldn’t narrow down an origin from that though - that was a common skin colour amongst humans as far as i knew, and humans often changed hair colour. I had the guards prepare a bed - the regular beds were overly large for the human, but we managed to find a smaller one made for children. We’d probably need to remove the suit to provide medical attention, so I decided to work on that.
Removing the helmet was the easy part, there were a few buckles along the collarbones, along with some airtight seals. Once I pulled the helmet off, I tried looking for a way to remove the rest of the suit, searching the interlocking plates and fabric of the exosuit until I found some more latches. After pulling on three, along the back, the suit opened at last. I was shocked at how cute the human was - I always imagined them as regal and somewhat intimidating. They wore an old fashioned starship uniform, with “CSS Carmina” embroidered on it. Looking past that, I layed the human on the bed and let the doctor, Dawn, tend to them.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Log (error, indexing corrupted) of Pino Jacinta, Unaffiliated
I woke up under the blaring sun. In a building, without my suit. The building was simple, made out of clay, but had intricate patterned windows carved out of it, which conveniently let the bright sunlight fall right on my face. I felt some kind of air mattress below me, although I could tell there was no bedframe with low to the floor I was. What little furniture was present in this room towered over me. Luckily, whoever my hosts were were courteous enough to provide an air-con unit, which cooled down my skin despite the sunlight on me. My throat felt dry and cracked. Pushing myself away from the sunlight, I saw a bowl of water on the floor next to me, which I tried my best to drink from despite the very awkward shape. Looking up from the bowl, I noticed an elephant sitting across from me. It had a mechanical arm mounted on its back. It trumpeted at me, and the translator picked it up.
“You were talking in your sleep.”
Huh. Elephant was sapient. Good to know.
Slightly unsure as to how to proceed, I asked; “where am I?”
“You are in Sapwater Village. You fell unconscious so we provided medical attention. You were severely dehydrated and fatigued,” came the reply.
“No I mean.. What planet? I thought I was on Shi Maria”
The translator read the elephant’s expression as confusion.
“... Shi Maria was destroyed 50 years ago. You’re on a planet called Aisha.”
2023.03.29 00:23 andrewjl03 Putting ceiling fan on independent switch.
I recently purchased this home and didn’t realize until I replaced the old ceilings fan with a new one that the recessed lighting in the ceiling is connected to the same light switch as the fan. This means I can’t have the fan on unless I also have the ceiling lights on, so no fan at night. I was thinking about splicing in another wire to the hot wire at the current connection, adding another switch, and running it up to the fan. I was hoping to open a few holes in the wall in the closet to run the wire through and then up through the ceiling, but I’m assuming there must be some rafters in the ceiling that would block the wire. Any advice on how to accomplish this? I have a little electrical experience, but no knowledge of codes/best practices etc. This is in the Philadelphia PA area. Some pictures in the link. Thanks!
ceiling fanarea.
submitted by andrewjl03 to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]
ceiling fanarea.
2023.03.29 00:00 ImaginaryDrawingsTwt An influent Brazilian economist became a heterodox economist influenced by David Graeber and alike and he is now delivering wrong economic history lectures to universities and writing this erros in books
André Lara Resende is one of the “fathers” of the very successful Plano Real, it successfully turned the hyperinflationary Brazilian economy in a stable one very quickly in the 90s (he was also one of the “fathers” of other failed plans, but still…).
Not much time ago, he became a heterodox economist, saying things like “economic orthodoxy is a failed ideology”. But I won’t talk about it, I will talk about his takes on the English Monetary History, and how it is completely wrong.
Why is it important? The current Lula’s government has an economical team divided in two main sectors, one defends that the fiscal regime must have real limits and these limits must be respected, the other defends that the expansionary fiscal policy can be unlimited. The former is led by the former Minister of Education and current Minister of Economy Fernando Haddad, the latter is led by the former Minister of Education and current President of the Brazilian Bank of Development Aloizio Mercadante. Mercadante has as intellectual guru André Lara Resende, the main proponent of the unlimited expansionary fiscal regime.
In a lecture to the Institute of Economics of Unicamp, the second most important Brazilian university (behind USP only), André Lara Resende uses the English monetary history to substantiate his theory about the non-spontaneity of the currencies, seen first in his book Consenso e Contrassenso (Consensus and “Nonsense”, 2020):
Lecture to UNICAMP on YouTube, in Portuguese but with auto-generated English subtitles.
What is talked about in this class is basically what is talked about in his book:
Implicitly, 4. Markets collapsed because of lack of currency.
For better situational understanding, here is a modern map of the tribes that inhabited the British Isles before the Romans:
Image 1. Pre-Roman British islands
The Southern Britain, the region conquered by Rome, had several tribes and several of these tribes already had a monetary system. Take a look at some of the coins sold by the traditional Baldwin’s numismatic shop:
Image 2. Corieltauvi
Image 3. Iceni
Image 4. Trinovantes and Catuvellauni, it is presumed that, at some point, a tribe was suzerain of another tribe, causing a common coin to be produced in both tribes
Image 5. Belgae
Image 6. Dobunni
Image 7. Durotriges
Coins named “stater” were inspired by the Greek coins of the same name. Therefore, it can be said with a high degree of certainty that this region of southern Britain had a monetary system in pre-Roman times:
Image 8. Area of pre-Roman Britain with a monetary system
Damnonii
Image 9. Damnonii
A curious case, however, are the Dumnonii (Damnonii, depending on the author). Gaius Julius Solinus points out in his book Polyhistor that they lived in the ancient way, without the use of money, but on the basis of giving and accept and by exchange – which is a possible reference to a mutual gift and barter economy, one should not exclude the other.
Four points:
However, it is important to note that after the abrupt departure of the Romans from British lands, the island experienced a profound institutional crisis. Moreover, Britannia began to receive people from different regions.
One of André Lara Resende's points is: as Britain was used to have a monetary system, it was natural that the same people — the Britons — would continue having a monetary system, which did not happen. First of all, it is important to note that the population of Anglo-Saxon England differed significantly from that of Roman Britain, with the arrival of the Angles and Saxons from the continent following the Roman departure. These new people settled in Britannia after the abrupt departure of the Romans from the island, when the defenses were weakened. As a side note, the emergence of the King Arthur myth, wherein he, a Briton, defends Britannia against the Anglo-Saxons, can be traced back to this time in history.
Image 10. The new inhabitants of Great Britain
Image 11. Introductory article on the history of epidemics
Image 12. Change in average global temperature
One of the most compelling documented of evidence — in addition to scientific analysis of volcanic activity — is the widespread reports of crop failures during this period, which likely contributed to a devastating famine across Europe.
The convergence of pandemic and natural disaster was so significant that many historians regard the 6th century AD as one of the most difficult times to be alive.
Image 13. Science: Why 536 was the 'the worst year to be alive'
Image 14. European population decline in both bubonic plagues
Considering the array of factors that contributed to the economic collapse of England in the 5th and 6th centuries, it appears highly unlikely that the absence of local coinage played a decisive role. Rather, the delay in the appearance of local coinage can be more reasonably attributed to the general economic collapse that characterized both Britain and continental Europe during this era. It should be noted that the assertion put forward by Lara Resende on video that England only began to mint its own coinage in the 11th century is mistaken, as there is ample evidence of local coin production dating back to the 7th century.
Image 15. Thrymsas
Some sceattas, for example, were produced by the Church and it is not clear what kind of control the kings of the small Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of the time exercised over the “Coins of the Saints”, or even if there was any control at all.
On this subject, Professor Rory Naismith, a specialist in Early Medieval English monetary history, concludes:
Image 16. Money of the Saints
However, it is important to note that ecclesiastical coins only represented a fraction of the sceattas. In fact, there are several other examples of these coins dating back to at least the 7th century, long before the 11th century as previously suggested.
Image 17. Sceattas
While some sceattas feature the portrait of a king and his name, others bear only the name of the moneyer and a symbol, others display the name of the moneyer and the mint. The diversity of these coins was so great that it is unlikely that rigid centralized control existed during this period. The sceattas exhibit a remarkable variety of designs and inscriptions, which suggests that the production of these coins was largely decentralized and subject to the discretion of individual minters and merchants.
In effect, the penny was formalized as the currency of Mercia, an Anglo-Saxon kingdom, by the end of the 8th century through the reforms of King Offa, who centralized coin production and exercised stricter control over it.
It is worth noting that the reputable auction house Baldwin’s has sold several Anglo-Saxon pennies, dating back to before the 11th century, further emphasizing the long-standing presence of coinage in England.
Image 18. Pennies
Therefore, the conclusions of the main points are:
André Lara Resende, Consenso e Contrassenso: Por uma Economia Não Dogmática (Portfolio Penguin, 2020).
Anna Gannon, The Iconography of Early Anglo-Saxon Coinage: Sixth to Eighth Centuries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010)
Carlo M. Cipolla, The Fontana Economic History of Europe Volume I: The Middle Ages (New York: Barnes and Noble, 1972)
Kathryn A. Glatter e Paul Finkelman, History of the Plague: An Ancient Pandemic for the Age of COVID-19, Am J Med, 2021, Volume 134 (2): p. 176–181.
Rory Naismith, Medieval European Coinage 8: Britain and Ireland c. 400–1066 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017)
Rory Naismith, Studies in Early Medieval Coinage 3: Sifting the Evidence (Spike Books, 2014)
submitted by ImaginaryDrawingsTwt to badeconomics [link] [comments]
Not much time ago, he became a heterodox economist, saying things like “economic orthodoxy is a failed ideology”. But I won’t talk about it, I will talk about his takes on the English Monetary History, and how it is completely wrong.
Why is it important? The current Lula’s government has an economical team divided in two main sectors, one defends that the fiscal regime must have real limits and these limits must be respected, the other defends that the expansionary fiscal policy can be unlimited. The former is led by the former Minister of Education and current Minister of Economy Fernando Haddad, the latter is led by the former Minister of Education and current President of the Brazilian Bank of Development Aloizio Mercadante. Mercadante has as intellectual guru André Lara Resende, the main proponent of the unlimited expansionary fiscal regime.
In a lecture to the Institute of Economics of Unicamp, the second most important Brazilian university (behind USP only), André Lara Resende uses the English monetary history to substantiate his theory about the non-spontaneity of the currencies, seen first in his book Consenso e Contrassenso (Consensus and “Nonsense”, 2020):
Lecture to UNICAMP on YouTube, in Portuguese but with auto-generated English subtitles.
What is talked about in this class is basically what is talked about in his book:
Chapter 1: Currency, ideas, and politicsSo, I would like to highlight his main points about the history of currency in England, so that we can see how, in fact, the English monetary history was.
Currency as a public service
Roman coins circulated in England, as well as throughout the Roman Empire, until the end of the 6th century. With the withdrawal of the Romans, Britain's administrative and military structure was dismantled, and the English economy was demonetized. From the beginning of the 5th century to the end of the 7th century there was virtually no currency in circulation in England (Source: Robert Barro: Are Government Bonds Net Wealth?, Journal of Political Economy, n. 81, v. 6, 1974). Most Roman coins fell out of circulation. Worn out or hoarded, the remnants continued to circulate sparsely, and markets collapsed. The impact of monetary liquidity on material conditions and cultural production was dramatic. If we believe in currency as a creation of market needs, these would be the ideal conditions for the emergence of a local currency, but that is not what happened. Without a central authority capable of establishing the unit of account for recording transactions, trade declined, all demand disappeared, and there is no evidence of merchant activities until the end of the 7th century. According to Chris Wickham, “all forms of exchange, beyond the most rudimentary, must have ceased” (Source: David Graeber, Debt: The First 5000 Years. London: Melville House, 2011).
According to archaeological studies, reorganization in the Anglo-Saxon lands began at the end of the 6th century. At the beginning of the 8th century, with the reconstruction of political power and the consolidation of hierarchically more organized small kingdoms, units of account for pecuniary obligations were reintroduced, and trade flourished again. From the 11th century onwards, currency began to be regulated and institutionalized both in England and on the European continent. Governments then realized that they needed to introduce a more efficient means of collecting taxes and transferring resources. The oldest extant report from the English Treasury, from the late 12th century, states:
Currency is needed, not only in times of war, but also in times of peace. Because, in the first case, the revenues are spent on fortifying cities, paying soldiers’ salaries. When hostilities cease, weapons of war are laid aside, churches are built by pious princes, Christ is clothed and fed in the person of the poor, and the mammon of this world is distributed through other acts of charity (source: Edmund Phelps , “The Golden Rule of Accumulation: A Fable of Growthmen”, American Economic Review, v. 51, n. 4, 1961).
Despite the interest of the central power in the institution of money, for many years governments charged for its coinage. Having established the silver or gold content of each coin, anyone could take the metal to an authorized house and, subject to a discount on the contributed metal, leave with the officially minted legal tender coins. The discount, known as seigniorage, was supposed to cover the cost of the coinage and remunerate the government for the service rendered. Until today, when the currency is exclusively fiduciary, the government's gain with its issuance, on which no interest is levied, is called seigniorage. The public was willing to pay the seigniorage, the cost of minting plus a tribute, which could reach up to 5% of the metallic value minted, because the homogenization and regulation of currency was a highly valued service. The chronic illiquidity of the medieval European economy meant that coins almost always circulated at a premium over metallic value. When that premium was far above the cost of seigniorage, more metal was taken to be minted. After the sixteenth century, when the lack of liquidity had already been mitigated, in the rare moments when the rise in silver and gold prices made the coin's face value less than its metallic value, the pieces were melted down, thus creating a endogenous mechanism of expansion and contraction of the stock of physical money.
Medieval metallic coins were always subject to the problem of loss of metallic content, whether due to dishonest scraping or wear and tear of its use, which forced the authorities to remove them from circulation and replace them with new ones, in accordance with established norms for legal tender. The costs of currency renewal fell mostly on the holders of old coins. The premium on its metallic content, the cost of minting, as well as those of currency reforms, all borne for the most part by the public, is evidence of the high value of the service provided by the coin. The universal acceptance guaranteed by legal tender, by the fact of being accepted to settle tax debts and all kinds of official charges, is a public service for which society has always been willing to pay. The reference value and liquidity of the currency is vital for the functioning and expansion of markets. Rulers could charge for currency, which benefited both the government and the public, because illiquidity has always been a painful constraint on trade and all economic activity.
Main Points
- Video: “Up to the 7th century, in England, circulated the metallic Roman coins”;
- The coins ceased to circulate.
- Video: there was a complete collapse of economic activity in England;
Implicitly, 4. Markets collapsed because of lack of currency.
- Video: the ideal situation for an economy that had already been a monetary economy to recreate a spontaneous currency;
- Video: and none of that happened;
- Video: It was only from the 11th century onwards that there was a certain amount of centralization, it was during this period that money began to reappear, therefore, the crown started with the idea of creating an accounting system to collect taxes.
The first coins minted in England: coin in the British Iron Age
Although Lara Resende says that “it was from the 11th century that metallic coins began to be minted in England for the first time” (video), the first metallic coins minted in England actually date from pre-Roman times.For better situational understanding, here is a modern map of the tribes that inhabited the British Isles before the Romans:
Image 1. Pre-Roman British islands
The Southern Britain, the region conquered by Rome, had several tribes and several of these tribes already had a monetary system. Take a look at some of the coins sold by the traditional Baldwin’s numismatic shop:
Image 2. Corieltauvi
Image 3. Iceni
Image 4. Trinovantes and Catuvellauni, it is presumed that, at some point, a tribe was suzerain of another tribe, causing a common coin to be produced in both tribes
Image 5. Belgae
Image 6. Dobunni
Image 7. Durotriges
Coins named “stater” were inspired by the Greek coins of the same name. Therefore, it can be said with a high degree of certainty that this region of southern Britain had a monetary system in pre-Roman times:
Image 8. Area of pre-Roman Britain with a monetary system
Damnonii
Image 9. Damnonii
A curious case, however, are the Dumnonii (Damnonii, depending on the author). Gaius Julius Solinus points out in his book Polyhistor that they lived in the ancient way, without the use of money, but on the basis of giving and accept and by exchange – which is a possible reference to a mutual gift and barter economy, one should not exclude the other.
§ 22.7 {9} This turbid strait also divides the island Silura from the shore which is held by the Dumnonii, a British tribe. The men of this island even now preserve an old custom: they do not use coins. They give and accept, obtaining the necessities of life by exchange rather than by money. They reverence gods, and the men and women equally declare knowledge of the future.
--------
Siluram quoque insulam ab ora quam gens Brittana Dumnonii tenent turbidum fretum distinguit. Cuius homines etiamnunc custodiunt morem uetustum: nummum refutant; dant res et accipiunt; mutationibus necessaria potius quam pretiis parant; deos percolunt; scientiam futurorum pariter uiri ac feminae ostentant
The economic decline of the 5th and 6th centuries
Was the British economic collapse of the 5th and 6th century caused by the absence of coins, or was the absence of coins caused by economic collapse?Four points:
- Institutional crisis and the Anglo-Saxons;
- Bubonic plague;
- Natural disaster;
- Population decline.
1. Institutional crisis and the Anglo-Saxons
Given the extensive body of research on institutions and their role in promoting national prosperity, as well as the overwhelming support for this idea among leading economists such as Acemoglu, Coase, Ostrom, Williamson, and others, I believe that stressing the importance of institutions to a nation's success would be redundant.However, it is important to note that after the abrupt departure of the Romans from British lands, the island experienced a profound institutional crisis. Moreover, Britannia began to receive people from different regions.
One of André Lara Resende's points is: as Britain was used to have a monetary system, it was natural that the same people — the Britons — would continue having a monetary system, which did not happen. First of all, it is important to note that the population of Anglo-Saxon England differed significantly from that of Roman Britain, with the arrival of the Angles and Saxons from the continent following the Roman departure. These new people settled in Britannia after the abrupt departure of the Romans from the island, when the defenses were weakened. As a side note, the emergence of the King Arthur myth, wherein he, a Briton, defends Britannia against the Anglo-Saxons, can be traced back to this time in history.
Image 10. The new inhabitants of Great Britain
2. Bubonic plague, c. 525 —
Although not as well-known as the Black Death, the bubonic plague known as the Justinian Plague had a profound impact on Europe that lasted for centuries.Image 11. Introductory article on the history of epidemics
3. Natural disaster: the volcanic winter of 536
In addition to the bubonic pandemic, the massive eruption of a volcano, likely located in Iceland, had far-reaching consequences. This event resulted in a significant cooling of the Northern Hemisphere, known as Late Antique Little Ice Age.Image 12. Change in average global temperature
One of the most compelling documented of evidence — in addition to scientific analysis of volcanic activity — is the widespread reports of crop failures during this period, which likely contributed to a devastating famine across Europe.
The convergence of pandemic and natural disaster was so significant that many historians regard the 6th century AD as one of the most difficult times to be alive.
Image 13. Science: Why 536 was the 'the worst year to be alive'
4. European population decline
The impact of the combination of these disasters was so profound that it not only affected England, as noted by André Lara Resende, but also brought Europe as a whole to an economic collapse. The evidence of the continent-wide disaster is manifold, with one of the most striking being the precipitous decline in population, which was, at that time, closely linked to social breakdowns.Image 14. European population decline in both bubonic plagues
Considering the array of factors that contributed to the economic collapse of England in the 5th and 6th centuries, it appears highly unlikely that the absence of local coinage played a decisive role. Rather, the delay in the appearance of local coinage can be more reasonably attributed to the general economic collapse that characterized both Britain and continental Europe during this era. It should be noted that the assertion put forward by Lara Resende on video that England only began to mint its own coinage in the 11th century is mistaken, as there is ample evidence of local coin production dating back to the 7th century.
Thrymsas and sceattas, the resurgence of British coins in the 7th century
Thrysmsas
In the early 7th century, the introduction of thrymsas marked the first instance of coin minting in England after the Roman era. These coins were modeled after the Roman tremissis, which is precisely what would happen if the theory of the spontaneity of coins were not false, according to André Lara Resende’s train of thought.Image 15. Thrymsas
Sceattas (early pennies)
The sceattas, called by some scholars as “early pennies”, were the first silver coins minted in Anglo-Saxon England. In the 7th century, they completely replaced the production of gold coins (thrymsas). They were minted by several individuals and the extent of royal control over their production remains a topic of debate.Some sceattas, for example, were produced by the Church and it is not clear what kind of control the kings of the small Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of the time exercised over the “Coins of the Saints”, or even if there was any control at all.
On this subject, Professor Rory Naismith, a specialist in Early Medieval English monetary history, concludes:
Image 16. Money of the Saints
However, it is important to note that ecclesiastical coins only represented a fraction of the sceattas. In fact, there are several other examples of these coins dating back to at least the 7th century, long before the 11th century as previously suggested.
Image 17. Sceattas
While some sceattas feature the portrait of a king and his name, others bear only the name of the moneyer and a symbol, others display the name of the moneyer and the mint. The diversity of these coins was so great that it is unlikely that rigid centralized control existed during this period. The sceattas exhibit a remarkable variety of designs and inscriptions, which suggests that the production of these coins was largely decentralized and subject to the discretion of individual minters and merchants.
Penny
The lack of knowledge regarding thrymsas and sceattas is understandable, as their discoveries have been more recent (it has increased with the technological advancement of archeology) and their popularity is relatively low. However, it is surprising to ignore the penny, a currency that played a significant role in English history, and to claim that the first coin was only minted in England in the 11th century.In effect, the penny was formalized as the currency of Mercia, an Anglo-Saxon kingdom, by the end of the 8th century through the reforms of King Offa, who centralized coin production and exercised stricter control over it.
It is worth noting that the reputable auction house Baldwin’s has sold several Anglo-Saxon pennies, dating back to before the 11th century, further emphasizing the long-standing presence of coinage in England.
Image 18. Pennies
Conclusion
The account of English currency history presented by André Lara Resende, one the greatest Brazilian economists, in his book Consenso e Contrassenso (2020) and his video lecture for the Institute of Economics of Unicamp (2021), contains several significant flaws that require reassessment. These flaws lead to erroneous conclusions and undermine the credibility of his work.Therefore, the conclusions of the main points are:
Premise 1: “Up to the 7th century, in England, circulated the metallic Roman coins”, Premise 2: The coins ceased to circulate.Correct. Following the disappearance of Roman coins from Anglo-Saxon England, imitations of Roman coins began to be produced (thrymsas).
Premise 3. “there was a complete collapse of economic activity in England”.Correct. Not only in England, but all over Europe. The abrupt departure of the Romans from Britannia in the early 5th century and the subsequent invasion of the Angles and Saxons, who did not have a monetary economy, led to an institutional, social, and economic crisis in England. Additionally, the pandemic and volcanic winter of the 6th century caused a significant economic stagnation throughout Europe.
Conclusion 4. Markets collapsed because of lack of currency.Unlikely. The collapse of markets and the rise of subsistence economies are better explained by the abrupt Roman exit, the Anglo-Saxon invasion, the Justinian Plague, and the Late Antique Little Ice Age.
Premise 5. If we believe in currency as a creation of market needs, these would be the ideal conditions for the emergence of a local currency.Correct, the absence of currency creates the need for currency.
Conclusion 6. but that is not what happened.Incorrect, several coins emerged in Anglo-Saxon England, contradicting the claim that there was a complete absence of currency during this period.
Conclusion 7. It was only from the 11th century onwards that there was a certain amount of centralization, it was during this period that money began to reappear, therefore, the crown started with the idea of creating an accounting system to collect taxes..Incorrect. Thus, the idea that there was no local currency during Anglo-Saxon England, from the end of Roman Britain to the Norman Conquest in the 11th century, as basically purported by André Lara Resende, is factually incorrect.
References
Alessia Rovelli, Money and Coinage in the Middle Ages (Boston: Brill, 2018)André Lara Resende, Consenso e Contrassenso: Por uma Economia Não Dogmática (Portfolio Penguin, 2020).
Anna Gannon, The Iconography of Early Anglo-Saxon Coinage: Sixth to Eighth Centuries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010)
Carlo M. Cipolla, The Fontana Economic History of Europe Volume I: The Middle Ages (New York: Barnes and Noble, 1972)
Kathryn A. Glatter e Paul Finkelman, History of the Plague: An Ancient Pandemic for the Age of COVID-19, Am J Med, 2021, Volume 134 (2): p. 176–181.
Rory Naismith, Medieval European Coinage 8: Britain and Ireland c. 400–1066 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017)
Rory Naismith, Studies in Early Medieval Coinage 3: Sifting the Evidence (Spike Books, 2014)
2023.03.28 23:56 rageha6701 BFS - Reassurance Seeking Issues
To summarize my BFS journey. I have 24/7 calf twitching. I have had this every day for at least a year. The first time I ever noticed it was 3-4 years ago, but it only seemed to happen after long runs/dehydration. Now it's non-stop, all day, every day. It is stronger after a run, but it's there without doubt, everyday, all the time.
Since late summer of 2022 I have had fully body twitching. These little "blips" when paying attention I will notice anywhere in the body above the knees at least once a minute. Hamstrings, quads, glutes, shoulders, triceps, lower back, etc. I have basically felt it in every spot possible.
I also have hot spots which have lasted days to weeks. These are areas where the twitches are stronger, more frequent, and very specific to their location. For me these have been mostly relegated to the triceps/elbow area. However, the past week I have been dealing with one in my right palm/thumb.
In October 2022 I went to a neurologist, a neuro-muscular specialist. He did not think I needed an EMG, but was aware of my paralyzing anxiety regarding the twitching and offered. After doing the legs which he said was clean, I asked him his thoughts on the appointment the following day for the arms. He said the tests were not necessary and reminded me they were only for my peace of mind.
At that point I took one of my first steps to recovery which was stopping the reassurance seeking. I cancelled the second EMG.
Why does twitching bother us so much? The sensation itself is typically quite mild.
It's because people with ALS experience muscle twitching. The moment we experience something which is experienced by an ALS sufferer, the mind catastrophizes and links what we're experiencing to this life-ending disease.
The reality is, if you're on a sub reddit reading about BFS, you have anxiety, not ALS. You're seeking a drug called reassurance by any means necessary. You're looking for other people going through what you're going through. You're trying to find someone with your exact symptoms who has been experiencing them longer than you and is still alive.
By doing this, you're feeding the anxiety. It may seem paradoxical, but the less "informed" you are, the better. The more you read, the more likely you are going to come across some story where something is worded in a way that will trigger the panic. I have done this far too many times.
But when it comes down to it, there is always a recurring theme which we push to the side in search for something more specific, trying to find something which resonates more with what we feel is our unique situation. Twitching alone is not ALS. Just like coughing alone does not mean lung cancer. Or a loose stool does not mean colon cancer. Or a heart palpitation does not mean an impending heart attack.
Anxiety is a real bitch. It's a worldwide pandemic. Constantly being in fight or flight mode will do bizarre things to your body, one of which is muscle twitching. And it's a self fueling loop. Anxious? Now you're twitching. Twitching? Now you're more anxious. More anxious, more twitching.
Letting go is the solution. Allow the twitching to become background noise in your life. We have millions of things going on around us that our senses filter throughout the day because the mind is only capable of focusing on very few things simultaneously. Unfortunately, us BFS/Anxiety sufferers have chosen to hone our focus in on the twitching.
Much easier said than done, but the journey to recovery begins when we stop making muscle twitching the focus of our lives. When we stop coming to these forums seeking reassurance. When we stop staring at body parts watching the twitch. When we stop googling solutions to stop muscle twitching.
Best of luck to all of you out there.
submitted by rageha6701 to BFS [link] [comments]
Since late summer of 2022 I have had fully body twitching. These little "blips" when paying attention I will notice anywhere in the body above the knees at least once a minute. Hamstrings, quads, glutes, shoulders, triceps, lower back, etc. I have basically felt it in every spot possible.
I also have hot spots which have lasted days to weeks. These are areas where the twitches are stronger, more frequent, and very specific to their location. For me these have been mostly relegated to the triceps/elbow area. However, the past week I have been dealing with one in my right palm/thumb.
In October 2022 I went to a neurologist, a neuro-muscular specialist. He did not think I needed an EMG, but was aware of my paralyzing anxiety regarding the twitching and offered. After doing the legs which he said was clean, I asked him his thoughts on the appointment the following day for the arms. He said the tests were not necessary and reminded me they were only for my peace of mind.
At that point I took one of my first steps to recovery which was stopping the reassurance seeking. I cancelled the second EMG.
Why does twitching bother us so much? The sensation itself is typically quite mild.
It's because people with ALS experience muscle twitching. The moment we experience something which is experienced by an ALS sufferer, the mind catastrophizes and links what we're experiencing to this life-ending disease.
The reality is, if you're on a sub reddit reading about BFS, you have anxiety, not ALS. You're seeking a drug called reassurance by any means necessary. You're looking for other people going through what you're going through. You're trying to find someone with your exact symptoms who has been experiencing them longer than you and is still alive.
By doing this, you're feeding the anxiety. It may seem paradoxical, but the less "informed" you are, the better. The more you read, the more likely you are going to come across some story where something is worded in a way that will trigger the panic. I have done this far too many times.
But when it comes down to it, there is always a recurring theme which we push to the side in search for something more specific, trying to find something which resonates more with what we feel is our unique situation. Twitching alone is not ALS. Just like coughing alone does not mean lung cancer. Or a loose stool does not mean colon cancer. Or a heart palpitation does not mean an impending heart attack.
Anxiety is a real bitch. It's a worldwide pandemic. Constantly being in fight or flight mode will do bizarre things to your body, one of which is muscle twitching. And it's a self fueling loop. Anxious? Now you're twitching. Twitching? Now you're more anxious. More anxious, more twitching.
Letting go is the solution. Allow the twitching to become background noise in your life. We have millions of things going on around us that our senses filter throughout the day because the mind is only capable of focusing on very few things simultaneously. Unfortunately, us BFS/Anxiety sufferers have chosen to hone our focus in on the twitching.
Much easier said than done, but the journey to recovery begins when we stop making muscle twitching the focus of our lives. When we stop coming to these forums seeking reassurance. When we stop staring at body parts watching the twitch. When we stop googling solutions to stop muscle twitching.
Best of luck to all of you out there.
2023.03.28 23:12 ragbagger My Ender 3V2 setup with lots of pictures and descriptions of mods
 | u/Low-Bet305/ suggested some people might find my setup and settings helpful in a comment in this thread - https://www.reddit.com/3Dprinting/comments/1248ao4/i_printed_the_same_model_on_my_bambu_x1c_and/ so here goes. I thought it might be more useful in an Ender focused sub instead of the general 3Dprinting one. submitted by ragbagger to ender3v2 [link] [comments] Current setup:My baby. We have three Enders in the household, but this one is mine and I love to upgrade and tinker with it. The others are closer to stock. Is all of this really necessary for getting good prints? Absolutely not. I'm a tinkerer, like to experiment and I have a "fail forward" mindset so I'm constantly adjusting things, adding things, testing, failing, and readjusting until I get the level of success I want. I wouldn't consider any of it truly necessary for the EV2, except for upgrading the weak plastic stock extruder and possibly adding stiffer springs or silicone spacers to the bed. There are a lot of other popular upgrades and mods I've elected not to do as well. The one essential thing I think is required is to calibrate the printer. I like to use Teaching Tech's calibration guide and love his videos. But there are other guides out there too. There's a lot more to do than just running a temp tower and adjusting e steps if you want acceptably accurate and repeatable results. Final thought, a lot of you here are a lot more experienced and a lot smarter than me. None of these mods are original, all are ideas I've found here on Reddit, or Facebook, or Discord, or Printables/Thingiverse etc. And you may have better ideas in your setup. The absolute best feature of our machines is the large community around them and how much we share with each other! So I thank you all for your ideas, and maybe this will spark a new idea in somebody else. Now on to my setup. This is going to be long, with lots of pictures and as many links and details as I can remember. Maybe one or two of you will find it helpful. Early mods:I built my printer following The Tomb of 3D Printed Horrors 3V2 Assembly video and had a few successful and a few failed prints.If you'd prefer to see some old videos of my early days with the printer and the first upgrades I did you can check out my YouTube channel, but I'm not so active with it anymore. I'd like to get back in to it at some point. My very first mod was also one of my first prints, a filament guide I found on thingiverse. My original filament guide (in black) with a different version designed to hold a runout sensor (silver) And that reminds me, the early stuff you should buy to go with along with your printer. I've got a video somewhere on my youtube channel of what I bought but I recommend:
The next upgrades went pretty fast and I don't recall the exact order. I bought most of the non printed ones on Amazon (I'm in the US). Here they are: Yellow Springs Replaced the stock springs with the infamous firmer yellow ones. The yellow springs are stiffer and hold the bed level better than the stock ones. At some point I will probably replace them with silicone spacers. But I bought a bag of 20 springs and it's lasted me a few years. Metal Extruder and Capricorn tubing kit Creality Metal Extruder I cracked the plastic arm on the stock extruder early on (like so many other people) and ordered the Creality metal one. I'm torn on this mod. It works better than the plastic one but it is finicky with the tension. I ended up putting the spring from my original extruder on the this one and it's a bit better. But if I ever feel the need to replace it I'll look at 3rd party options instead. I also swapped the original bowden tube for Capricorn XS tubing for better heat capacity and less friction. The kit I bought also came with new pneumatic couplers. I've bought many more of those couplers for cheap. They seem to wear out quickly. R2D2 Extruder Knob I'm a Star Wars Kid and this is my favorite mod of all. Purely aesthetic. But its my favorite mod. My printer started with a black and purple theme, but now it's evolving so I printed the blue and silver one currently in use. Want one? The file is free - R2D2 Extruder Knob BL Touch I bought a kit that included metal mounts for the Ender 3, Pro and 3V2 along with a 5 pin wire that plugs directly into the stock board instead of splitting between the Z end stop and the board like the early versions did. Creality has since launched the CR Touch. I can't comment on it or the differences between it and the BL Touch as I have no experience with it. When I added the BL Touch I had to upgrade the firmware. I went through a few options before settling in on (then, not now) the Jyersm variant of Marlin (I'm currently using mriscoc firmware but more on that later). Slot Covers - found on Thingiverse Some variant found on Thingiverse, I've printed many and don't recall which ones these are. I like these for keeping random debris out of the aluminum extrusions. And I change the colors almost as often as I change my 2 year old's diaper. Raspberry Pi 4 and Pi Cam V2 I bought a Canakit before Pi prices skyrocketed I added the snap in tray to mount it to the frame this year. The original file I printed for my camera case/mount has been removed from Thingiverse by the creator and I've been unable to find it on any other site. And I broke it. So the camera is now held on with electrical tape. Guess it's time to design my own. I liked it for the fact the camera was on a ball joint swivel mount so it could move both left and right as well as tilt up and down. Great for getting fun timelapses like these I did early on. Filament Roller Filament Roller. I found using good bearings was a bad idea as it rolled too freely. So I found some crappier 608 bearings for cheap and now it works a treat. It's either this one or some remix, I don't recall exactly. Octoprint Octoprint installed on the Raspberry Pi I use Octoprint to control the printer, do timelapses, create a bed mesh, edit the eeprom, etc. I chose this screen capture so you can see some of the plugins I've added. I love what the ArcWelder plugin does, even if I can't really explain what it does. There's also an ArcWelder plugin for Cura if you don't use Octoprint. And there are a ton more features and plugins to Octoprint than I use. (Mental note to self: update octopi) Tools and Extra Nozzles Random mess of tools I tend to use a lot (not the big hex wrenches of course, the little ones that are missing... that I've lost... again.) At some point I ordered more brass nozzles in various diameters as well as some hardened steel nozzles for more abrasive materials. And my collection of tools seems to evolve and grow. I posted a while back about a few of my more uncommon choices: What “unconventional” tools do you use in your 3D printing? And we bought a huge rubber made type storage box for our filament. It has a seal around the lid and holds somewhere around 12 to 15 1kg spools at once. I put a cheap humidity sensor in there and we add dessicant to it as needed. It won't dry anything but it seems to work pretty well for keeping already dry filaments in good shape. And that's it, I think, for the first year mods I did. After that I played with Octoprint and timelapses, made toys for the kids and things for around the house. Then I got frustrated with printing and took a break for a while after a long string of failures on all three of our machines. Mods and Upgrades2: Electric BoogalooThe bug hit again and I fired the printer back up. I think, but I'm not positive, some of my frustration was caused by issues with the firmware I was using and how I had set it up. So my first task was to update it, only to find out jyersm had been abandoned by the creator. So I did some research and switched to mriscoc firmware and I've been really happy with it. I updated the screen firmware in addition to the printer I'm not going to go into too much detail here. If you want to stay marlin based, and it's suitable for your printer variant, I recommend it. Learn more at https://www.reddit.com/Ender3v2Firmware/. There's also a helpful facebook group. Concrete Paver and foam mat 12x12 concrete paver placed on a foam mat I stole from my child's room I swear this concrete paver thing is a meme at this point. But it also might actually help. My printer is currently set up on a shaky table. After putting it on the pavemat the printer shakes much less and to my eye my printed walls do look better. So it was worth testing in my opinion. Plus this mod was free as I had the materials on hand. Light Bar Creality Light Bar Frankly, I'm getting older and it's getting harder to see small details. So I bought a light bar to help me out. It's great. I wrote a too long review of the Creality Ender 3 LED light bar if you'd like to learn more. Minimus hot end cooling system Minimus Dual 4010 cooling fans variant This is one of my favorite functional upgrades. It's a no bolts design. The fans housing just lifts off for easy access to the hot end. You can download it for free at https://cults3d.com/en/3d-model/tool/minimus-hotend-cooler-system but please consider supporting the designer if you like it by buying one or two of his other designs. There are different versions for a single 4010 blower fan (like the stock setup), dual 4010 fans like I have, as well as options for Noctura and 5015 fans. Read what printers it fits, as well as what hot ends. There's a lot to unpack but if it fits your setup it's worth it. There are a few options for fan covers the designer has made, or you can remix your own as well as options for different angled ducts to fine tune your cooling if needed, and a tray to add led lights if you are so inclined. I typically run my cooling fans at 50 to 60% for PLA now, which quiets things down considerably. And I've noticed some improvement in my bridging and overhangs. I'm still tweaking slicer settings to see how good I can get it. The designer is active here on Reddit sometimes and on the Ender 3V2 Facebook group too. My first Minimus Water Test There is also an option for the Armadillo Wire Management which I don't currently have mounted, but I do have the backplate (the pink one in most of the pictures) installed at the moment. To complete this upgrade, I bought a new 4010 blower fan as well as a new hot end fan (the old one was wearing out and vibrating a lot). Flexible Coupler and ball bearing Flexible Coupler with ball bearing This is a mod I'm iffy on, but it might help some in certain situations. I've played with this a lot. First let me start by saying don't use the flexible coupler by itself. IT SUCKS! It makes my prints way way worse. I wrote a whole long thing on facebook about it. And some folks there suggested I should add a ball bearing. So I did and retested. I think I have a 7mm ball in there, but it might be an 8mm. Can't recall. I didn't notice any improvement over stock on my printer, but it's not any worse either. Honestly, I forgot it was on there until I was taking pictures today. But it did improve the prints on my wife's printer a lot. Hers is mostly stock and she has always had some noticeable Z binding on her prints. I have two ideas here, first I'm not certain her Z axis stepper motor is aligned and second it's possible her Z lead screw isn't straight. Either way, adding the flexible coupler and ball bearing to her printer has resulted in a noticeable increase in print quality. So, like I stated in the beginning, my feeling is it might help on certain printers that are having Z issues. Clean and lubed lead screw While we're talking about the lead screw, I think keeping it clean and lubed is pretty important to print quality so I consider this a mod for this post. Occasionally I'll take mine off, wash it with hot water and dish soap, follow that up with an isopropyl alcohol wipedown and then relube. I've used different lubricants including sewing machine oil, white lithium grease, Boeing T-9 Boeshield (don't ask). Lately I've been using Super Lube because so many people have suggested it. It works. Doesn't seem to trap too much dust either. Textured PEI bed ChowThink flexible beds This is a recent upgrade. I've been quite happy using the stock glass, but its pretty worn down now and prints are having a harder time sticking without using something like hairspray or a glue stick. I have a second glass bed too, but after hearing all the hype about PEI spring steel and asking some questions here on Reddit, I thought I'd give it a try. I haven't used these enough to recommend the brand or not yet. The textured bed does work. Prints stick, then release pretty easily. I've only tried the carbon fiber texture one (not real carbon fiber) once and couldn't get anything to stick. I'll revisit and test some more after a good wash down. SKR Mini E3 V3.0 SKR Mini E3 V3.0 I loved my older stock 4.2.2 board. It was great, it was quiet. It worked. We've been through a lot together and had no issues. And then I murdered it. When I swapped my fans out I must have made a bad crimp. The wires let loose, a fan shorted out, and the board went kaput with a crisp "snap" sound accompanied by the faint smell of electrical smoke. I tried checking fuses, inspecting caps in the hopes of maybe replacing one, etc but in the end it just wasn't worth it to me to futz with anymore. So I bought a new printer out of spite and anger. But I just can't quit you, baby. So a few days later I ordered a SKR Mini E3 and installed it. And while I was at it I changed most my crimps to Dupont connectors. I'm still learning about the new board and it's features. So I don't have a lot more to say here. Install was pretty straight forward other than getting the 3V2 screen to work with it. But that's well documented and easy to figure out. Many of you can probably tell me more about the board's features than I can tell you. Ultimaker Cura plugins Adding plugins to Cura has really helped me improve After trying a few slicers I settled on Ultimaker Cura. At first, I just used Cura to open files, slice them with the default settings, and send them to the printer. But oh man, does digging in and learning it help out a lot. I'm absolutely no expert here. Watch YouTube videos and use google for questions you have. I have found the following plugins helpful: Settings Guide - A guide on what settings do and how to use them. Auto Towers Generator - Allows you to quickly and easily print several types of calibration towers (download OPENscad as well to use full capabilities). Startup Optimiser - Lets the user optimise the Cura startup time by only loading configuration files for printers that are currently configured in Cura. OctoPrint Connection - Enables networked printing and monitoring with OctoPrint. Arc Welder - Converts multiple subsequent G0/G1 moves to G2/G3 arcs. (not needed if you use the Arc Welder plugin in Octoprint instead). Future Upgrades?So that's it. All of my mods as of this post. Any future ones in the works? Maybe.Personally I have no interest in going dual Z or adding linear rails. But that's for me, you may decide those options are worthy of your time and investment. I've printed out a couple of different runout sensor designs (using an old Z stop) to use in conjunction with either Octoprint or straight to the printer but haven't finished that project up. The hot end is still stock and I've considered changing to either all metal or adding a bimetal heat break but haven't found I need it yet. I really want to add ferrules to the power supply cables inside the printer. I should do it. I should have done it long ago. I should have done it when I replaced the main board recently. This is my next mod now that I think about it. It's a safety issue. Way overdue. My wife wants to make her Ender direct drive and she's also looking at upgrading her hotend to a V6 or something. She's still deciding on that. I'll probably leave this one as a bowden setup if she goes that route. I'm still torn on whether or not to switch to Klipper. I might, but not any time soon. I don't really want to learn another new system right now. Final thoughtsIs all this worth it? ? Well, it has been to me. Using, breaking, fixing, upgrading my machine has been a nice hobby alongside actually printing. I've learned a lot and, for the most part, enjoyed it along the way. Yes, I'm quite sure I've spent more on upgrades than the original purchase price. But I've also spent way less than I could have going out barhopping and skirt chasing, or on any number of other hobbies.These are my last several prints. I'm happy with them. In the end, that's all that matters regardless of mods or add-ons or experience. No bunny business If you like them you can find the file here: https://www.printables.com/model/170461-hairy-bunny-furry-bunny. I used the basic stl file and added my own fuzzy skin settings in Cura. And I'll mention again: with good setup and calibration I still believe you can get perfectly acceptable prints with a stock setup. But for me, and maybe you, upgrading and modding is part of the fun and the experience of owning an Ender. |
2023.03.28 23:06 Coldfire202020 Dread Maiden
Does anyone else feel like me that the Dread Maiden is just a massive drag?
I don't think it's considered a hot take to say that enemy variety is one of the game's bigger weaknesses. You (mostly) just fight two relatively small and bland groups, with a third added in via DLC. The exception seems to be the supervillain fights. For me at least, those are a great change of pace. They're difficult, add some fun modifiers to the combat, and most importantly, give the opposing team a much needed injection of character.
Unless it's the Dread Maiden. Every time one of these popped up in a mission, I heaved a sigh. She drags the fight down as a massive damage sponge, but without any of the cool character or storytelling that comes with the actual supervillains. She's just as generic as every other lillin, but with 10x the health. I'd be so much happier if she were removed, and ever instance of her replaced by one of the actual characters.
Anyone else feel that way?
submitted by Coldfire202020 to midnightsuns [link] [comments]
I don't think it's considered a hot take to say that enemy variety is one of the game's bigger weaknesses. You (mostly) just fight two relatively small and bland groups, with a third added in via DLC. The exception seems to be the supervillain fights. For me at least, those are a great change of pace. They're difficult, add some fun modifiers to the combat, and most importantly, give the opposing team a much needed injection of character.
Unless it's the Dread Maiden. Every time one of these popped up in a mission, I heaved a sigh. She drags the fight down as a massive damage sponge, but without any of the cool character or storytelling that comes with the actual supervillains. She's just as generic as every other lillin, but with 10x the health. I'd be so much happier if she were removed, and ever instance of her replaced by one of the actual characters.
Anyone else feel that way?
2023.03.28 22:54 Lady-Sparti A Different Path - EPILOGUE - TARO
Hey all.
Here is the epilogue! Some truths are going to be revealed in this so try not to be shocked.
TW: Graphic descriptions of torture, corpses among other things.
It had been nearly three months since Megami bled out on the floor of his manor.
His mother had recovered and she had returned to her duties as Lady Yamada but that was quickly being turned over to himself and Ayano as the future heads of house. They had to hire more servants to replace the ones that had been killed, he made sure that he used the family funds to pay for the funerals for those servants and maids who had been murdered while on duty.
Itsumi was visiting his father’s resting place everyday, Taro wondered if being so close to death had changed something in the way she looked at that kind of thing. She made sure that the place was absolutely spotless, changed the flowers once they wilted and spent time talking to the tomb as if his father was responding to her.
The trail of Osana Najimi had been very tough for both of them. She had practically jumped with joy to see Taro, completely ignoring Ayano. It was a unanimous ruling, Osana was guilty of two counts of murder and two counts of attempted murder. In the end, she showed no remorse which ended up giving her the death sentence.
Muja Kina never did go to trail, she was murdered in her cell by her cellmate.
Ayano was slowly starting to recover from the trauma of everything, counselling had helped out big time for the both of them. Kenchi Saikou had also ending up in counselling, he talked often of Megami harming him while his parents and grandfather turned a blind eye to it. Kenchi had grown very close with Ryoba and Jokichi.
Despite her becoming paralysed at the hands of his sister, Ryoba found that she adored the little boy as if he were her own son. Jokichi found it tough to admit but even he enjoyed the presence of another child. They found that Kenchi loved animals so Tori became attached to him very quickly.
Ryoba loved sitting in her wheelchair, watching Kenchi as he played with Tori. He ate anything that Ryoba or Jokichi fed him and had started to mimic some of Jokichi’s mannerisms which he found hilarious. The nightmares were still very prominent, but they found that leaving one of their dressing gowns with Ryoba’s favourite perfume on it helped him sleep better at night.
Kenchi was likely the richest eleven year old in the country, they decided to make sure that Kenchi understood just how lucky he was. The boy was starting to develop a talent in calligraphy which they openly encouraged, even taking him to a competition so he could watch and learn.
Taro had personally paid for a large house to be built not fair away from the Yamada home, Ayano’s parents and Kenchi stayed in the Yamada family home until construction was finished. It was a large, traditional style home like the ones around Tokyo. He did make sure that it was wheelchair friendly to help Ryoba’s newfound disability.
Ayano visited her parents every day, Kenchi had grown very fond of her. Even going as far as to call her his big sister. Ryoba and Jokichi were in discussions to legally adopt Kenchi without taking ownership on the Saikou fortune, of course there were distant relatives what wanted to take him in with his fortune in their minds but Kenchi made his thoughts very clear.
“I don’t want to be a Saikou. I want to be an Aishi”
That had ended the discussion.
Ayano was sleeping soundly in bed as Taro was about to double check the door was locked.
Though they weren’t intimate just yet, it was starting to get close and Taro wanted his future wife so bad. She was gorgeous and he was mesmerised by her beauty even in sleep, he was sure that he heartbeat increased significantly in her presence.
He tucked her softly into bed, kissing her head as he did so before leaving the room and walking downstairs. He picked up a golden candelabra and made his way down the stairs in his dressing gown. Everyone else in the manor was asleep apart from the guards on rotation but they were outside.
Looking down the darkened hallway, he couldn’t help but picture himself in a gothic novel. He shadow twisting and moving as if it were dancing with the candlelight. The red patterned wallpaper and portraits of his long dead relations helped the feeling. He continued to walk before reaching the hallway where a tapestry hung from the wall about the founding of the Yamada Family.
An ancient Yamada samurai who's first name had been lost to time had protected prince Shiraka from an attempt on his life several times. When the prince came to the throne as Emperor Seinei in 480, he granted the samurai who had protected him lands and a title.
He pulled the tapestry aside, revealing a door.
There were more stairs, it was a long way down but Taro did not mind. The darkened hallway blazed with the candelabra in his hand. It was cold and slightly damp in here, Taro was careful to mind his step. At the bottom of the winding stairwell was another door, he took out the key that his father gave to him on his deathbed and opened the door as it made a squeal sound.
Hayanari Tsumeato was tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. Next to him was a metal barrel with the remains of Gaku Hikitsuri inside. Hayanari had struggled for quite some time now, the rope marks were cutting into his skin and the smell of blood was prominent in the air.
Placing the candelabra aside, he looked over his tools on the table wondering if he should use them or not. In the end, he decided not too. Instead, he tore the blindfold off Hayanari who looked completely bewildered at who his captor was; The last thing he could recall was the horror of watching Osoro kill his friends.
“I suppose you must be wondering why you are here” Taro started “Well, Umeji was smart to not have everyone confront your idol but he wasn’t clever enough to figure out that there was someone else pulling the strings, was he?” Taro smiled, his eyes grew sinister and he walked away for a moment to play with the lid of the barrel.
He lifted it, revealing the rotting corpse of Gaku to Hayanari. His skin was covered in a sickening mix of green and blue decay. His face had began peeling away as his eyes were surrounded by feasting festering maggots. His clothes were also tattered, revealing the rest of his rotting body whilst his organs spilled out from his caved in stomach.
Hayanari tried to scream, the stench of his best friend overpowering him until Taro closed the lid once more. Taro sighed as he topped up the candelabra with new candles, he would be here for a little while more.
“You know, I didn’t plan for this to go the way that it has” He confessed “But, I suppose nearly being murdered by your childhood friend would change anyone...”
-
When Taro knew Osana as he remember her, she was an annoying red haired brat. Her pseudo Tsundere personality drove him up the wall. Even if she had not gone mental, he would have turned her down when she confessed. Truth be told, he had his eye on Ayano since her first year at Akademi but he was afraid that he would scare her away by coming off a creepy if he tried to talk to her.
It had been a strange sensation, watching Osana get nastier and nastier until Raibaru confronted her about it. When she had knocked over Ayano on purpose while she was carrying around those little treats she made, she had unknowingly given Taro the opportunity to talk to Ayano properly without looking weird.
She had blushed a bit as she taught him to shape the little sweet treats properly, that was the signal that he had been really hoping for: She liked him back. Watching Ayano run to him before showing the picture of Osana driviing the katana into Raibaru’s back had stuck his hairs on his back up, seeing a bloody Osana had changed everything. “Osana! How could you do that?! She was your best friend!”
When she went for them, Ayano threw herself between Osana and Taro himself. Though Aoi was quick to apprehend the red haired girl, something in him had twisted as the pair waiting in the student council room with a severely traumatised Midori.
Amai had been a surprise to him. As soon as she tried to approach him, he knew exactly what she was up to. That sickly sweet personality was more pretend than him faking interest in her baking, he wanted one girl’s cooking alone and it was not Amai’s.
Ryuto had later explained to Taro what had happened when Amai was suspended from Akademi. That vile girl had placed an open vodka bottle into Ayano’s bag when she wasn’t looking, Ryuto and Pippi were quick to tell Ms Kunahito who had figured out something was off with Amai’s story.
Before Amai had come back to school, he had been quick to slip the terrible thing that Amai had tried to do when people came up to him asking if he was alright. “I’m not feeling too well, you know Amai? I heard that she tried to frame Ayano for drinking on academy grounds by putting an open vodka bottle in her bag. Can you believe it? I thought that she was a nice girl but I couldn’t be more wrong...”
He knew damn well that Amai had hidden herself away in the gardening club when he said “That's the thing. You don’t need to go around impressing everyone because they liked you just the way you are. She tried to talk with me often but I never liked her. Something didn’t seem right with her, her cheery attitude after what had just happened. But hearing what she did, I’ll never like her. I fact, I don’t want to ever see her again after what she tried to do to you...”
He had found her just outside of Buraza Marina drunk out of her mind. She had staggered over to him, confessing her love as Taro walked into the sea. He coaxed her and she followed him like a cute, mindless lamb. When the water was at hip height, he held her down in the water facing him.
She thrashed, kicked and tried to fight it but he was too strong for her. He smiled as he watched her struggle to breath, knowing that her lungs would feel like they were on fire. Then, she stopped moving completely. He flipped her so she would be face down before sending her out towards the main harbour.
Kizana was a far tricker beast to deal with.
She was another level of vicious, threatening Ayano with images of her nude body to make sure she stayed away. While Ayano had been talking with the rest of the drama club about how to deal with the bitch, Taro had been messing about with the weights on the stage. He angled one of them perfectly, when Kizana pulled or cut the rope it would fall and crush that not so pretty face of hers.
No one realised that Taro had been smiling when blood and brain matter had splattered across the crowd.
Oka was tricky.
She was tricky because it was Ayano who she was in love with, not Taro and he found it rather refreshing. Ayano would never agree to date Oka, she was far too in love with him for that (Which Taro absolutely revelled in) but that did not make Oka any less dangerous. He knew that she was up to something when he saw her seeking into the school grounds, she had tried to do a strange ritual on his desk when he dropped a science flask to grab her attention.
Oka ran straight into his trap, he knocked her out with a whack to the side of the head. He then tied her up and carried her to the incinerator when he stood by and listened to the symphony of Oka burning alive. When her remains had cooled down, he ground them up in the gardening club’s grinder and watched as the dust flew into the air.
He had found a notice of withdrawal from Akademi in her bag, so he placed it inside Ms Kunahito’s office.
He knew that Asu had drugged the water she had given him, but he also knew that Shiromi wouldn’t be to far away.
While it had scared him for sure, he had planned it out knowing that the chances of him actually being raped were little to none. He had a knife in his back pocket just in case. Akane had taken him aside and spoken to him after what nearly happened and he realised that he had found himself an ally.
So, he bribed the police to give Asu to Akane for her to do whatever she wanted.
He was onto Muja Kina as soon as she had stared t him in the hallway. He also figured out that her mind was more geared to lust than the other rivals, so he purposely did things and would give Muja feeling hot inside in the hopes of her getting caught. If not, then he planned to burn her flat to the ground with her inside.
Thankfully, Koroko had caught onto what she was doing and had taken several incriminating photographs before Hoshiko kindly uploaded them to her blog. Taro had printed out the blogpost so many times that he slipped the entry into everyone’s locker and placed more into the nurse’s office and into the faculty room.
Musume’s murder and Koroko being blinded was not exactly part of the plan but it worked out for him.
Mida Rana had disgusted him completely.
She was a whore, end of story. He held no respect for someone who willingly seduced older married men at her age, the story had gotten to him from a family friend living in Spain that Mida had actually driven one young woman to suicide and take her two young children with her. He wasn’t quite sure how to do away with her until he watched Hoshiko grill her in the middle of the hallway.
That night, he paid the Yakuza to kidnap and sedate her before tying her up under his water machine. He let the water drip slowly, hearing her agonising screams had told him that her sanity was not far off breaking.
Then, she stopped screaming and her sanity was completely gone…
He had given her a knife and told her to do away with Mida who was in the gardening club after being isolated by the rest of the academy. He had laughed as Mida was stabbed to death. After Hoshiko slit her own throat, he buried them both in the gardening club and cleared up all the blood.
Osoro was also in love with Ayano. He actually didn’t need to toy with her that much though he didn’t like Gaku following him around. His guards tazored him before bringing him down to the basement, where Taro had some fun pulling Gaku’s teeth out for information. Osoro had ended up killing the other delinquents before falling into the Marina and dying from extreme cold shock.
He made sure her body would not be found, Hayanari presented a danger so he was taken captive as well.
Hanako had been a real shock to him. He thought that she would actually come to like Ayano but Megami had her claws in his sister. Especially when she pretty much admitted that she wanted to replace him as Lord Yamada. “You’re too placid to be lord. A lord or a lady needs to be cut throat to get what they want, I am the only one who can uphold the honour of our family. You will never be a decent lord as long as your bitch bride lives!”
That had been the final straw as well as the death of their mutual friend Midori. Midori was the one other person apart from Ayano outside the family who he had genuinely cared for. Taro put his gloves on, before injecting her with air. The mortician would likely rule it as a heart attack and be done with it. She struggled but he silenced her.
He was glad that he was able to kill Megami with his own hands and get away with it, but he wasn’t happy that he nearly lost his mother in the process. His father would forgive him, seeing as he had made every effort to keep his mother alive before she was taken to hospital.
Now, there was on last thing he need to do.
He swiftly knocked Hayanari out before placing him into the same barrel as Gaku’s remains. He closed the barrel and ordered his Kyoto guards to move it to the burial grounds. The Kyoto guards were his father’s special guards who helped him do the more… Unsavoury things that sometimes he had to do as Lord.
As a young child, Taro had been very quiet and timid. Effectively emotionless. It was his late lord father that gave him a purpose in his life. “I know what you are feeling my son...” Taro could still recall the feeling of his father holding him as Taro burrowed into his neck, even at three years old.
His father would sway as if he were cradling him.
“You know, I was an awful lot like you when I was a child. One day, you are going to meet someone very special to you just like I did. When I met your mummy, I thought that she was the prettiest girl in the world. Everything came to life around me, and I needed her as my wife.
Of course, because your mummy was so pretty I had to do away with some love rivals but that is a story for another day. Perhaps when you are a bit more grown up.” Lord Ren had chuckled as little Taro drifted off to sleep.
He had later found out that his father had ordered his Kyoto guards to seize any man who dared to approach his Itsumi Yuuki with hopes of her falling in love with them. Ren disposed of them by stuffing them into barrels with large rocks and throwing them into a lake.
Taro had arrived at the burial ground where a hole about seven foot deep had been dug beside his father’s Mausoleum. The barrel was placed inside before being buried and the patch of grass carefully put back on. The Kyoto guards reported hearing horrified screams through the night but come dawn, the grounds were silent once again…
Father always did know best...
There we are so what happened?
When Ryoba broke the Family curse, it simply passed over into a different family. The Yamada family, starting with Ren and going into Taro. Also, the story of the Yamada's family founding is based around the Prince Hoshikawa rebellion in Japan so I thought it would be interesting to tie in real Japanese history with the family.
Honestly, the whole Yandere Taro angle was not what I intended but after writing 'Blood, Tears and love in between' I loved writing an insane Taro. But this Taro pretty much snapped after the Osana incident...
submitted by Lady-Sparti to Osana [link] [comments]
Here is the epilogue! Some truths are going to be revealed in this so try not to be shocked.
TW: Graphic descriptions of torture, corpses among other things.
It had been nearly three months since Megami bled out on the floor of his manor.
His mother had recovered and she had returned to her duties as Lady Yamada but that was quickly being turned over to himself and Ayano as the future heads of house. They had to hire more servants to replace the ones that had been killed, he made sure that he used the family funds to pay for the funerals for those servants and maids who had been murdered while on duty.
Itsumi was visiting his father’s resting place everyday, Taro wondered if being so close to death had changed something in the way she looked at that kind of thing. She made sure that the place was absolutely spotless, changed the flowers once they wilted and spent time talking to the tomb as if his father was responding to her.
The trail of Osana Najimi had been very tough for both of them. She had practically jumped with joy to see Taro, completely ignoring Ayano. It was a unanimous ruling, Osana was guilty of two counts of murder and two counts of attempted murder. In the end, she showed no remorse which ended up giving her the death sentence.
Muja Kina never did go to trail, she was murdered in her cell by her cellmate.
Ayano was slowly starting to recover from the trauma of everything, counselling had helped out big time for the both of them. Kenchi Saikou had also ending up in counselling, he talked often of Megami harming him while his parents and grandfather turned a blind eye to it. Kenchi had grown very close with Ryoba and Jokichi.
Despite her becoming paralysed at the hands of his sister, Ryoba found that she adored the little boy as if he were her own son. Jokichi found it tough to admit but even he enjoyed the presence of another child. They found that Kenchi loved animals so Tori became attached to him very quickly.
Ryoba loved sitting in her wheelchair, watching Kenchi as he played with Tori. He ate anything that Ryoba or Jokichi fed him and had started to mimic some of Jokichi’s mannerisms which he found hilarious. The nightmares were still very prominent, but they found that leaving one of their dressing gowns with Ryoba’s favourite perfume on it helped him sleep better at night.
Kenchi was likely the richest eleven year old in the country, they decided to make sure that Kenchi understood just how lucky he was. The boy was starting to develop a talent in calligraphy which they openly encouraged, even taking him to a competition so he could watch and learn.
Taro had personally paid for a large house to be built not fair away from the Yamada home, Ayano’s parents and Kenchi stayed in the Yamada family home until construction was finished. It was a large, traditional style home like the ones around Tokyo. He did make sure that it was wheelchair friendly to help Ryoba’s newfound disability.
Ayano visited her parents every day, Kenchi had grown very fond of her. Even going as far as to call her his big sister. Ryoba and Jokichi were in discussions to legally adopt Kenchi without taking ownership on the Saikou fortune, of course there were distant relatives what wanted to take him in with his fortune in their minds but Kenchi made his thoughts very clear.
“I don’t want to be a Saikou. I want to be an Aishi”
That had ended the discussion.
Ayano was sleeping soundly in bed as Taro was about to double check the door was locked.
Though they weren’t intimate just yet, it was starting to get close and Taro wanted his future wife so bad. She was gorgeous and he was mesmerised by her beauty even in sleep, he was sure that he heartbeat increased significantly in her presence.
He tucked her softly into bed, kissing her head as he did so before leaving the room and walking downstairs. He picked up a golden candelabra and made his way down the stairs in his dressing gown. Everyone else in the manor was asleep apart from the guards on rotation but they were outside.
Looking down the darkened hallway, he couldn’t help but picture himself in a gothic novel. He shadow twisting and moving as if it were dancing with the candlelight. The red patterned wallpaper and portraits of his long dead relations helped the feeling. He continued to walk before reaching the hallway where a tapestry hung from the wall about the founding of the Yamada Family.
An ancient Yamada samurai who's first name had been lost to time had protected prince Shiraka from an attempt on his life several times. When the prince came to the throne as Emperor Seinei in 480, he granted the samurai who had protected him lands and a title.
He pulled the tapestry aside, revealing a door.
There were more stairs, it was a long way down but Taro did not mind. The darkened hallway blazed with the candelabra in his hand. It was cold and slightly damp in here, Taro was careful to mind his step. At the bottom of the winding stairwell was another door, he took out the key that his father gave to him on his deathbed and opened the door as it made a squeal sound.
Hayanari Tsumeato was tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. Next to him was a metal barrel with the remains of Gaku Hikitsuri inside. Hayanari had struggled for quite some time now, the rope marks were cutting into his skin and the smell of blood was prominent in the air.
Placing the candelabra aside, he looked over his tools on the table wondering if he should use them or not. In the end, he decided not too. Instead, he tore the blindfold off Hayanari who looked completely bewildered at who his captor was; The last thing he could recall was the horror of watching Osoro kill his friends.
“I suppose you must be wondering why you are here” Taro started “Well, Umeji was smart to not have everyone confront your idol but he wasn’t clever enough to figure out that there was someone else pulling the strings, was he?” Taro smiled, his eyes grew sinister and he walked away for a moment to play with the lid of the barrel.
He lifted it, revealing the rotting corpse of Gaku to Hayanari. His skin was covered in a sickening mix of green and blue decay. His face had began peeling away as his eyes were surrounded by feasting festering maggots. His clothes were also tattered, revealing the rest of his rotting body whilst his organs spilled out from his caved in stomach.
Hayanari tried to scream, the stench of his best friend overpowering him until Taro closed the lid once more. Taro sighed as he topped up the candelabra with new candles, he would be here for a little while more.
“You know, I didn’t plan for this to go the way that it has” He confessed “But, I suppose nearly being murdered by your childhood friend would change anyone...”
-
When Taro knew Osana as he remember her, she was an annoying red haired brat. Her pseudo Tsundere personality drove him up the wall. Even if she had not gone mental, he would have turned her down when she confessed. Truth be told, he had his eye on Ayano since her first year at Akademi but he was afraid that he would scare her away by coming off a creepy if he tried to talk to her.
It had been a strange sensation, watching Osana get nastier and nastier until Raibaru confronted her about it. When she had knocked over Ayano on purpose while she was carrying around those little treats she made, she had unknowingly given Taro the opportunity to talk to Ayano properly without looking weird.
She had blushed a bit as she taught him to shape the little sweet treats properly, that was the signal that he had been really hoping for: She liked him back. Watching Ayano run to him before showing the picture of Osana driviing the katana into Raibaru’s back had stuck his hairs on his back up, seeing a bloody Osana had changed everything. “Osana! How could you do that?! She was your best friend!”
When she went for them, Ayano threw herself between Osana and Taro himself. Though Aoi was quick to apprehend the red haired girl, something in him had twisted as the pair waiting in the student council room with a severely traumatised Midori.
Amai had been a surprise to him. As soon as she tried to approach him, he knew exactly what she was up to. That sickly sweet personality was more pretend than him faking interest in her baking, he wanted one girl’s cooking alone and it was not Amai’s.
Ryuto had later explained to Taro what had happened when Amai was suspended from Akademi. That vile girl had placed an open vodka bottle into Ayano’s bag when she wasn’t looking, Ryuto and Pippi were quick to tell Ms Kunahito who had figured out something was off with Amai’s story.
Before Amai had come back to school, he had been quick to slip the terrible thing that Amai had tried to do when people came up to him asking if he was alright. “I’m not feeling too well, you know Amai? I heard that she tried to frame Ayano for drinking on academy grounds by putting an open vodka bottle in her bag. Can you believe it? I thought that she was a nice girl but I couldn’t be more wrong...”
He knew damn well that Amai had hidden herself away in the gardening club when he said “That's the thing. You don’t need to go around impressing everyone because they liked you just the way you are. She tried to talk with me often but I never liked her. Something didn’t seem right with her, her cheery attitude after what had just happened. But hearing what she did, I’ll never like her. I fact, I don’t want to ever see her again after what she tried to do to you...”
He had found her just outside of Buraza Marina drunk out of her mind. She had staggered over to him, confessing her love as Taro walked into the sea. He coaxed her and she followed him like a cute, mindless lamb. When the water was at hip height, he held her down in the water facing him.
She thrashed, kicked and tried to fight it but he was too strong for her. He smiled as he watched her struggle to breath, knowing that her lungs would feel like they were on fire. Then, she stopped moving completely. He flipped her so she would be face down before sending her out towards the main harbour.
Kizana was a far tricker beast to deal with.
She was another level of vicious, threatening Ayano with images of her nude body to make sure she stayed away. While Ayano had been talking with the rest of the drama club about how to deal with the bitch, Taro had been messing about with the weights on the stage. He angled one of them perfectly, when Kizana pulled or cut the rope it would fall and crush that not so pretty face of hers.
No one realised that Taro had been smiling when blood and brain matter had splattered across the crowd.
Oka was tricky.
She was tricky because it was Ayano who she was in love with, not Taro and he found it rather refreshing. Ayano would never agree to date Oka, she was far too in love with him for that (Which Taro absolutely revelled in) but that did not make Oka any less dangerous. He knew that she was up to something when he saw her seeking into the school grounds, she had tried to do a strange ritual on his desk when he dropped a science flask to grab her attention.
Oka ran straight into his trap, he knocked her out with a whack to the side of the head. He then tied her up and carried her to the incinerator when he stood by and listened to the symphony of Oka burning alive. When her remains had cooled down, he ground them up in the gardening club’s grinder and watched as the dust flew into the air.
He had found a notice of withdrawal from Akademi in her bag, so he placed it inside Ms Kunahito’s office.
He knew that Asu had drugged the water she had given him, but he also knew that Shiromi wouldn’t be to far away.
While it had scared him for sure, he had planned it out knowing that the chances of him actually being raped were little to none. He had a knife in his back pocket just in case. Akane had taken him aside and spoken to him after what nearly happened and he realised that he had found himself an ally.
So, he bribed the police to give Asu to Akane for her to do whatever she wanted.
He was onto Muja Kina as soon as she had stared t him in the hallway. He also figured out that her mind was more geared to lust than the other rivals, so he purposely did things and would give Muja feeling hot inside in the hopes of her getting caught. If not, then he planned to burn her flat to the ground with her inside.
Thankfully, Koroko had caught onto what she was doing and had taken several incriminating photographs before Hoshiko kindly uploaded them to her blog. Taro had printed out the blogpost so many times that he slipped the entry into everyone’s locker and placed more into the nurse’s office and into the faculty room.
Musume’s murder and Koroko being blinded was not exactly part of the plan but it worked out for him.
Mida Rana had disgusted him completely.
She was a whore, end of story. He held no respect for someone who willingly seduced older married men at her age, the story had gotten to him from a family friend living in Spain that Mida had actually driven one young woman to suicide and take her two young children with her. He wasn’t quite sure how to do away with her until he watched Hoshiko grill her in the middle of the hallway.
That night, he paid the Yakuza to kidnap and sedate her before tying her up under his water machine. He let the water drip slowly, hearing her agonising screams had told him that her sanity was not far off breaking.
Then, she stopped screaming and her sanity was completely gone…
He had given her a knife and told her to do away with Mida who was in the gardening club after being isolated by the rest of the academy. He had laughed as Mida was stabbed to death. After Hoshiko slit her own throat, he buried them both in the gardening club and cleared up all the blood.
Osoro was also in love with Ayano. He actually didn’t need to toy with her that much though he didn’t like Gaku following him around. His guards tazored him before bringing him down to the basement, where Taro had some fun pulling Gaku’s teeth out for information. Osoro had ended up killing the other delinquents before falling into the Marina and dying from extreme cold shock.
He made sure her body would not be found, Hayanari presented a danger so he was taken captive as well.
Hanako had been a real shock to him. He thought that she would actually come to like Ayano but Megami had her claws in his sister. Especially when she pretty much admitted that she wanted to replace him as Lord Yamada. “You’re too placid to be lord. A lord or a lady needs to be cut throat to get what they want, I am the only one who can uphold the honour of our family. You will never be a decent lord as long as your bitch bride lives!”
That had been the final straw as well as the death of their mutual friend Midori. Midori was the one other person apart from Ayano outside the family who he had genuinely cared for. Taro put his gloves on, before injecting her with air. The mortician would likely rule it as a heart attack and be done with it. She struggled but he silenced her.
He was glad that he was able to kill Megami with his own hands and get away with it, but he wasn’t happy that he nearly lost his mother in the process. His father would forgive him, seeing as he had made every effort to keep his mother alive before she was taken to hospital.
Now, there was on last thing he need to do.
He swiftly knocked Hayanari out before placing him into the same barrel as Gaku’s remains. He closed the barrel and ordered his Kyoto guards to move it to the burial grounds. The Kyoto guards were his father’s special guards who helped him do the more… Unsavoury things that sometimes he had to do as Lord.
As a young child, Taro had been very quiet and timid. Effectively emotionless. It was his late lord father that gave him a purpose in his life. “I know what you are feeling my son...” Taro could still recall the feeling of his father holding him as Taro burrowed into his neck, even at three years old.
His father would sway as if he were cradling him.
“You know, I was an awful lot like you when I was a child. One day, you are going to meet someone very special to you just like I did. When I met your mummy, I thought that she was the prettiest girl in the world. Everything came to life around me, and I needed her as my wife.
Of course, because your mummy was so pretty I had to do away with some love rivals but that is a story for another day. Perhaps when you are a bit more grown up.” Lord Ren had chuckled as little Taro drifted off to sleep.
He had later found out that his father had ordered his Kyoto guards to seize any man who dared to approach his Itsumi Yuuki with hopes of her falling in love with them. Ren disposed of them by stuffing them into barrels with large rocks and throwing them into a lake.
Taro had arrived at the burial ground where a hole about seven foot deep had been dug beside his father’s Mausoleum. The barrel was placed inside before being buried and the patch of grass carefully put back on. The Kyoto guards reported hearing horrified screams through the night but come dawn, the grounds were silent once again…
Father always did know best...
There we are so what happened?
When Ryoba broke the Family curse, it simply passed over into a different family. The Yamada family, starting with Ren and going into Taro. Also, the story of the Yamada's family founding is based around the Prince Hoshikawa rebellion in Japan so I thought it would be interesting to tie in real Japanese history with the family.
Honestly, the whole Yandere Taro angle was not what I intended but after writing 'Blood, Tears and love in between' I loved writing an insane Taro. But this Taro pretty much snapped after the Osana incident...
2023.03.28 22:28 Aggravating_Froyo990 The greatest personal statement of all time
“Mbuto.”
My African driver springs to his feet.
“Yes, Sahib.”
“Pass me another baby, I think this one has died.” I lay the dead infant in the pile by my feet. What I’d really like him to do is pass me an ice-cold bottle of the local beer. Compassion is hot, thirsty work. There is no ice in this wretched refugee camp, mores the pity, but as I’m here to help I will suffer in silence. I stare into the eyes of the African baby who is suffering from HIV or dengue fever or something gross and look out into the hot, dusty savannah and ask, “Why? Why gender-neutral and non-judgmental Deity (or Deities) does this have to happen?”
“And Why, Mbuto, is the air-conditioning on my Land Rover broken again?”
“One thousand pardons, Sahib, but the parts have not arrived.”
I will suffer. I have lived a life of privilege and my suffering serves to link me to the suffering of mankind. I roll the window down. God it’s hot. How can people live here? Why don’t they move where it’s cool? Still, I see by the vacant stare from the walking skeletons who insist on blocking the road that they appreciate my compassion and I know that in a small way, I am making a difference in their lives.
Africa. Oh wretched continent! How long must you suffer? How long will you provide the venue to compensate for a low MCAT score? How many must die before I am accepted to a top-tier medical school?
When did I first discover that I, myself, desired to be a doctor? Some come to the decision late in life, often not until the age of five. The non-traditional applicants might not know until they are seven or even, as hard as it is to believe, until the end of ninth grade. I came, myself, to the realization that I, myself, wanted to be a doctor on the way through the birth canal when I realized that my large head was causing a partial third degree vaginal laceration. I quickly threw a couple of sutures into the fascia between contractions so strong was my desire to help people.
My dedication to service was just beginning. At five I was counseling the first-graders on their reproductive options. By twelve I was volunteering at a suicide crisis centefree needle exchange hot-line for troubled transgendered teens. I’ll never forget Jose, a young Hispanic male with HIV who had just been kicked out of his casa by his conservative Catholic parents. He had turned to black tar heroin as his only solace and he was literally at the end of his rope when he called.
“How about a condom, Hose,” I asked. The J, as you know, is pronounced like an H in Spanish.
Annoying silence on the line. Hesus, I was there to help him.
“Condoms will solve all of your problems,” I continued, “In fact, in a paper of which I was listed as the fourth author, we found that condoms prevent all kinds of diseases including HIV which I have a suspicion is the root of your depression.”
More silence. No one had ever had such a rapport with him. He was speechless and grateful and I took his sobs as evidence of my compassion.
“Hey, it was double-blinded and placebo controlled, vato.” Cultural competence is important and I value my diverse upbringing which has exposed me to peoples of many different ethnicities. I always say “What up, Homes?” to the nice young negroes who assemble my Big Mac and I think they accept me as a soul brother.
“We also have needles, amigo. Clean needles would prevent HIV too.”
My desire to be a physician has mirrored my desire to actualize my potential to serve humanity in many capacities. This may be something unheard of from medical school applicant but I have a strong desire to help people. I manifest this desire by my dedication to obtaining all kinds of exposure to all different kinds of people but mostly those from underserved and underprivileged populations. In fact, during a stint in a Doctors Without Borders spin-off chapter I learned the true meaning of underserved while staffing a mall health care pavilion in La Jolla, California.
Most of my friends are black or latino and I am a “Junior Cousin” of the Nation of Islam where I teach infidel abasement techniques to the Mohammed (PBUHN) Scouts. I also am active in the fight for women’s reproductive rights except of course for women in Afghanistan who were better off before our current racist war.
As Maya Angelou once said, “All men (and womyn) are prepared to accomplish the incredible if their ideals are threatened.” I feel this embodies my philosophy best because the prospect of grad school is too horrible to contemplate.
submitted by Aggravating_Froyo990 to medicalschool [link] [comments]
My African driver springs to his feet.
“Yes, Sahib.”
“Pass me another baby, I think this one has died.” I lay the dead infant in the pile by my feet. What I’d really like him to do is pass me an ice-cold bottle of the local beer. Compassion is hot, thirsty work. There is no ice in this wretched refugee camp, mores the pity, but as I’m here to help I will suffer in silence. I stare into the eyes of the African baby who is suffering from HIV or dengue fever or something gross and look out into the hot, dusty savannah and ask, “Why? Why gender-neutral and non-judgmental Deity (or Deities) does this have to happen?”
“And Why, Mbuto, is the air-conditioning on my Land Rover broken again?”
“One thousand pardons, Sahib, but the parts have not arrived.”
I will suffer. I have lived a life of privilege and my suffering serves to link me to the suffering of mankind. I roll the window down. God it’s hot. How can people live here? Why don’t they move where it’s cool? Still, I see by the vacant stare from the walking skeletons who insist on blocking the road that they appreciate my compassion and I know that in a small way, I am making a difference in their lives.
Africa. Oh wretched continent! How long must you suffer? How long will you provide the venue to compensate for a low MCAT score? How many must die before I am accepted to a top-tier medical school?
When did I first discover that I, myself, desired to be a doctor? Some come to the decision late in life, often not until the age of five. The non-traditional applicants might not know until they are seven or even, as hard as it is to believe, until the end of ninth grade. I came, myself, to the realization that I, myself, wanted to be a doctor on the way through the birth canal when I realized that my large head was causing a partial third degree vaginal laceration. I quickly threw a couple of sutures into the fascia between contractions so strong was my desire to help people.
My dedication to service was just beginning. At five I was counseling the first-graders on their reproductive options. By twelve I was volunteering at a suicide crisis centefree needle exchange hot-line for troubled transgendered teens. I’ll never forget Jose, a young Hispanic male with HIV who had just been kicked out of his casa by his conservative Catholic parents. He had turned to black tar heroin as his only solace and he was literally at the end of his rope when he called.
“How about a condom, Hose,” I asked. The J, as you know, is pronounced like an H in Spanish.
Annoying silence on the line. Hesus, I was there to help him.
“Condoms will solve all of your problems,” I continued, “In fact, in a paper of which I was listed as the fourth author, we found that condoms prevent all kinds of diseases including HIV which I have a suspicion is the root of your depression.”
More silence. No one had ever had such a rapport with him. He was speechless and grateful and I took his sobs as evidence of my compassion.
“Hey, it was double-blinded and placebo controlled, vato.” Cultural competence is important and I value my diverse upbringing which has exposed me to peoples of many different ethnicities. I always say “What up, Homes?” to the nice young negroes who assemble my Big Mac and I think they accept me as a soul brother.
“We also have needles, amigo. Clean needles would prevent HIV too.”
My desire to be a physician has mirrored my desire to actualize my potential to serve humanity in many capacities. This may be something unheard of from medical school applicant but I have a strong desire to help people. I manifest this desire by my dedication to obtaining all kinds of exposure to all different kinds of people but mostly those from underserved and underprivileged populations. In fact, during a stint in a Doctors Without Borders spin-off chapter I learned the true meaning of underserved while staffing a mall health care pavilion in La Jolla, California.
Most of my friends are black or latino and I am a “Junior Cousin” of the Nation of Islam where I teach infidel abasement techniques to the Mohammed (PBUHN) Scouts. I also am active in the fight for women’s reproductive rights except of course for women in Afghanistan who were better off before our current racist war.
As Maya Angelou once said, “All men (and womyn) are prepared to accomplish the incredible if their ideals are threatened.” I feel this embodies my philosophy best because the prospect of grad school is too horrible to contemplate.
2023.03.28 22:15 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, Kara Gamma, BFK Freehand, BFK Bright Water, Spec Gloves Kimono, Nomad Fade, M9 Doppler, Skeleton, BFK B.Steel, AWP Fade, Stiletto Fade, S.Gloves Slingshot, BFK Ultra, Kara Damas, Bayo Lore, Bayo Gamma, Flip Fade & A Lot More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $1867
★ Butterfly Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $1098
★ Butterfly Knife Blue Steel BS, B/O: $907
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $789
★ Butterfly Knife Stained FT, B/O: $695
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $888
★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $727
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $608
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $521
★ Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $253
★ Bayonet Night FT, B/O: $251
★ StatTrak™ Bayonet Lore MW, B/O: $751
⎯★ Karambit Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1343
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $774
★ Karambit Rust Coat BS, B/O: $537
★ Karambit Boreal Forest FT, B/O: $488
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1008
★ M9 Bayonet Blue Steel FT, B/O: $534
★ M9 Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $449
⎯★ Flip Knife Fade FN, B/O: $703
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $509
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $406
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $228
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $332
⎯★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $292
★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $264
★ Falchion Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Falchion Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $133
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Fade FN, B/O: $822
★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $569
★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $530
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $396
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $172
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $830
★ Gut Knife Fade FN, B/O: $204
★ Gut Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $138
★ Gut Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $104
★ Gut Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $92
★ Gut Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $82
★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $93
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $165
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Bright Water FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel WW, B/O: $80
★ Shadow Daggers Rust Coat BS, B/O: $74
★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade FN, B/O: $186
⎯★ Classic Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $311
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $163
⎯★ Talon Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $605
★ Talon Knife Scorched MW, B/O: $290
⎯★ Ursus Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $405
★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe MW, B/O: $162
⎯★ Paracord Knife Stained WW, B/O: $125
★ Paracord Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
★ Paracord Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $96
⎯★ Navaja Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $71
★ Navaja Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $71
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1015
★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $909
★ Bowie Knife Boreal Forest MW, B/O: $106
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $335
★ Driver Gloves King Snake BS, B/O: $270
★ Driver Gloves Lunar Weave WW, B/O: $113
★ Driver Gloves Overtake WW, B/O: $88
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $67
⎯★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $171
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $137
★ Moto Gloves Transport WW, B/O: $71
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $62
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1027
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $654
★ Specialist Gloves Mogul FT, B/O: $295
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $277
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web FT, B/O: $275
⎯★ Sport Gloves Slingshot FT, B/O: $796
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $699
★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $656
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Unhinged BS, B/O: $60
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $864
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $84
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Wildfire FT, B/O: $59
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $59
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Printstream FN, B/O: $155
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $58
⎯M4A1-S Icarus Fell FN, B/O: $414
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1402
M4A4 The Emperor FN, B/O: $152
M4A4 Asiimov WW, B/O: $97
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $65
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $123
StatTrak™ USP-S Neo-Noir FN, B/O: $106
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $218
P2000 Ocean Foam FN, B/O: $139
Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike MW, B/O: $81
CZ75-Auto Emerald Quartz MW, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.03.28 22:08 Rhino_7727 Emailing with AHK (works) but GUI not sending varaibles correctly
So basically here is my problem the gui I created works we've been using it for months with no issues but now my boss wants to be able to select a checkbox to where the email will go so he can send it to 1 employee or all employees
When I have a email in the "pmsg.To" spot it works great but I can't figure out how to pass the variables for the employee checkboxes to pass the value of that persons email to the "pmsg.To" spot
What am I missing its usually something obovious to most but I'm still trying to learn AHK so any help or direction would be greatly appreacated
submitted by Rhino_7727 to AutoHotkey [link] [comments]
When I have a email in the "pmsg.To" spot it works great but I can't figure out how to pass the variables for the employee checkboxes to pass the value of that persons email to the "pmsg.To" spot
What am I missing its usually something obovious to most but I'm still trying to learn AHK so any help or direction would be greatly appreacated
#SingleInstance Force Gui, Add, Text, x22 y29 w120 h20 , Customer Name Gui, Add, Edit, x142 y29 w250 h20 vName, Gui, Add, Text, x22 y59 w120 h20 , Message: Gui, Add, Edit, x142 y59 w250 h80 vMessage, Gui, Add, Text, x22 y149 w120 h20 , Phone Number: Gui, Add, Edit, x142 y149 w250 h20 vPhone, Gui, Add, CheckBox, x422 y19 w100 h20 vTim, Tim Gui, Add, CheckBox, x422 y39 w100 h20 vRyan, Ryan Gui, Add, CheckBox, x422 y59 w100 h20 vSteve, Steve Gui, Add, Button, x412 y109 w120 h30 gSendEmail Default, Send Email Gui, Add, Button, x412 y149 w50 h30 gclear, Clear Gui, Add, Button, x482 y149 w50 h30 gGuiClose, Close Gui, Show, xCenter yCenter h196 w552, Phone Message Return vTim := [email protected] vRyan := [email protected] vSteve := [email protected] vEmailAddress := %vTim% ";" %vRyan% ";" %vSteve% ";" SendEmail: Gui, Submit , NoHide FormatTime, TimeString, , MM-dd-yyyy hh:mm tt #SingleInstance,Force ;run only once SetBatchLines,-1 ;~ https://autohotkey.com/board/topic/36522-cdo-com-email-delivery/ Important:={smtpserver: "smtp.gmail.com" ;"host157.hostmonster.com" ; specify your SMTP server ,smtpserverport: 465 ;587 465 ;110 ; 25 ,smtpusessl: True ;For hostmonster it must be true ,sendusing: 2 ; cdoSendUsingPort ,smtpauthenticate: 1 ; cdoBasic ,sendusername: "[email protected]" ; ;Login UserName for the SMTP Server ,sendpassword: "PASSWORD" ;You have to create a special "App password" in gmail and use it here. https://the-automator.com/gmail_App_Password ,smtpconnectiontimeout: 60} ;Login Password ;*************Per message****************************************** HTML=This is in html. Check out the-Automator for some cool tips! pmsg:=ComObjCreate("CDO.Message") pmsg.From:="[email protected]" pmsg.To:= EmailAddress pmsg.BCC:= pmsg.CC:= pmsg.Subject:="Message From " . Name . "" " at " . TimeString pmsg.HtmlBody:= "Customer Name: " Name "`n`n
Message: " message := StrReplace(message, "`n", "
") "
Phone Number: " Phone "
Message Left at " TimeString "
" ;pmsg.TextBody := "Customer Name: " . Name . "`n`n" "Message: " . Message . "`n`n" "Phone Number: " . Phone . "`n`n" ;if you want to send plain text Fields:={smtpserver:Important.smtpserver,smtpserverport:Important.smtpserverport,smtpusessl:Important.smtpusessl,sendusing:Important.sendusing,smtpauthenticate:Important.smtpauthenticate,sendusername:Important.sendusername,sendpassword:Important.sendpassword,smtpconnectiontimeout:Important.smtpconnectiontimeout} pfld:=pmsg.Configuration.Fields For Field,Value in fields pfld.Item("http://schemas.microsoft.com/cdo/configuration/" Field):=Value pfld.Update() ;********************File Attachements*********************************** ;~ sAttach := "C:\AHK Studio\Projects\Companies.txtC:\AHK Studio\Projects\AHK_LinkedIn.txt" Loop, Parse, sAttach, , %A_Space%%A_Tab% pmsg.AddAttachment(A_LoopField) pmsg.Send() MsgBox, 4096, Sent, Message Has Been Sent, 2 Return Clear: GuiControl, , Name GuiControl, , Message GuiControl, , Phone Return GuiClose: ExitApp GuiEscape: ExitApp
2023.03.28 21:49 MadisonBrave Broke up with my(f19) boyfriend(m20) who helped write an original song for a book I'm publishing. Struggled to rewrite it and unsure if I should use it when he's planning to use instrumentals I wrote for him
I am not the OP. These posts were made by u/throwraameorke
The original post was trending on songwriting when it came out, but was deleted due to vulgar DM's OOP received in regards to that post. I received permission to post her update here, and she said it was fine because a few people sent her supportive messages asking for an update and saying that they had experienced similar situations, and she wanted to potentially help someone else by sharing the resolution she came to. Her update was posted to the bottom of her original post about two months later
Original Post (update was posted to the bottom of her original post) - January 28, 2023
Hey guys! Long time lurker, first time poster needing some advice. I had a boyfriend that I knew from high school (dating for almost 2 years), and he is an amateur songwritesinger. He's never published anything, but he's been planning his debut EP for some years, and he's also helped me too. I play a little guitar, but vocal melodies aren't my strong suit. I asked for help with one song that I couldn't come up with a vocal melody for, and he gave me a small melody for half of the verse melody (I wrote the other half). He said it was cool to use it in a song I wanted to release alongside a short story I wrote, and I wrote some guitar in the past for his personal endeavors
Here is my current dilemma. He recently started doing heroin with some friends, and he did it behind my back. When I asked how long he's been doing it, he got really defensive and yelled at me. But when I suggested seeing someone about it, he yelled again and took to Twitter and wrote a bunch of nasty things about me, but nothing to do with what we talked about. He complained about me not giving him "personal space" and listing off things he didn't like about me including my weight, and I found it disrespectful. He also called me names, and that was the last straw. But I'm stuck with this dilemma
In regards to the verse melody he wrote for me, I was planning to release my story/song in a few months, and I love how it fits the story too. However, I'm hesitant with how he's continued to rant about me on Twitter since breaking up, and I'm worried he might be an ass when it releases. When I wrote guitar to his lyrics in the past, I told him he could use it as his own (they were written to his lyrics after all), but we never agreed in writing, just verbally. When he wrote part of the melody for my song, he said I could use it the same way I helped him. I tried to rewrite the verse melody since the breakup, but struggled. Honestly, I still want to use the melody he gave, and he said he "might" use the guitar instrumentals I wrote to his lyrics that he recorded. I'm just hesitant because I'm bad with writing melodies. Should I go along and release the finished song that he verbally said I could, or should I try to commission someone else to rewrite the verse melody entirely?
Update (3/3/23):
Decided to make an update because a few people messaged me about what I decided to do. However, before I get into that, the other reason I decided to make this post was because he is a very vindictive person, and the stuff he's done since post-breakup has really shown that. Someone from our friend group tried to talk to him about the drugs he was doing, but he brushed him off and vented about him online too. He also cut off others from our friend group who tried to tell him that his friend was only looking out for him, and that led to him blocking many of them from his phone and socials
For the record, I didn't tell them about his heroin usage. He vented to one of the people in our friend group about why I left and told him, and that was how the others found out. I also posted my original post in a music related community where it received more helpful comments/traction, but I also received a lot of DMs from people who agreed with my ex-boyfriend and said that I was wrong to leave him even after he berated me online and nearly threw something at me too, and I didn't mention that part in my post
So for that reason, I deleted my post from that music community. However, a few people reached out asking what resolve I came to, and that led me to make an update in case it might help someone who experienced similar. I thought about scrapping the song entirely, but I liked the 95 percentish of the melody that I wrote with the exception of the 4 words/syllables that he helped write the vocal melody for. I also want to note that I wrote all of the lyrics for the song as well in conjunction with the story, but I struggled to rewrite the vocal melody that he made which led me to seek help because the song means a lot to me too
In regards to what I did with my song, I decided to hire someone (commission songwritesinger) to hear the song and recreate his part of the vocal melody in her own original style (because vocal melodies aren't my strong suit) because it was written to my lyrics. She listened to the song and recreated the vocal melodies that my ex-boyfriend made while trying to make it fit/blend in with the vocal melody parts I had written, and I think she did a good job
I wrote all of the lyrics, and my ex only wrote the vocal melody for 4 words/syllables in the verse whereas I wrote the rest of the verse/chorus/bridge melody myself. She kept the parts I made and replaced his partial verse melody with her own original melody, and I believe that that was a slightly better course of action. I also don't plan to monetize the YouTube video of the song too. There will be a donation link in the description of the video, but the video will not make profit from YouTube monetization. I hope I made the right course of action, but I will continue to hear advice from others too as I continued my process. I appreciate everyone who commented and gave advice and helpful DMs too, and I hope that my update perhaps helps someone else who may be torn about what to do in a similar situation
Some people suggested scrapping the entire song and creating a new one because of the memories associated to my ex, but I disagreed that he should tarnish the song I had written in conjunction with my story for years because he turned out to be an ass. I don't think him being an ass should destroy what I worked on, and I think it's important to move forward despite him because people will sometimes let you down, but it doesn't mean you have to let them tarnish your work. I also understand if people want to remove all memory of a person after a breakup, and I don't think there's a set rule for it. I think it depends on the person and what they feel comfortable doing. And for me, I didn't want to let him and his addiction destroy one of my first original songs
submitted by MadisonBrave to BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]
The original post was trending on songwriting when it came out, but was deleted due to vulgar DM's OOP received in regards to that post. I received permission to post her update here, and she said it was fine because a few people sent her supportive messages asking for an update and saying that they had experienced similar situations, and she wanted to potentially help someone else by sharing the resolution she came to. Her update was posted to the bottom of her original post about two months later
Original Post (update was posted to the bottom of her original post) - January 28, 2023
Hey guys! Long time lurker, first time poster needing some advice. I had a boyfriend that I knew from high school (dating for almost 2 years), and he is an amateur songwritesinger. He's never published anything, but he's been planning his debut EP for some years, and he's also helped me too. I play a little guitar, but vocal melodies aren't my strong suit. I asked for help with one song that I couldn't come up with a vocal melody for, and he gave me a small melody for half of the verse melody (I wrote the other half). He said it was cool to use it in a song I wanted to release alongside a short story I wrote, and I wrote some guitar in the past for his personal endeavors
Here is my current dilemma. He recently started doing heroin with some friends, and he did it behind my back. When I asked how long he's been doing it, he got really defensive and yelled at me. But when I suggested seeing someone about it, he yelled again and took to Twitter and wrote a bunch of nasty things about me, but nothing to do with what we talked about. He complained about me not giving him "personal space" and listing off things he didn't like about me including my weight, and I found it disrespectful. He also called me names, and that was the last straw. But I'm stuck with this dilemma
In regards to the verse melody he wrote for me, I was planning to release my story/song in a few months, and I love how it fits the story too. However, I'm hesitant with how he's continued to rant about me on Twitter since breaking up, and I'm worried he might be an ass when it releases. When I wrote guitar to his lyrics in the past, I told him he could use it as his own (they were written to his lyrics after all), but we never agreed in writing, just verbally. When he wrote part of the melody for my song, he said I could use it the same way I helped him. I tried to rewrite the verse melody since the breakup, but struggled. Honestly, I still want to use the melody he gave, and he said he "might" use the guitar instrumentals I wrote to his lyrics that he recorded. I'm just hesitant because I'm bad with writing melodies. Should I go along and release the finished song that he verbally said I could, or should I try to commission someone else to rewrite the verse melody entirely?
Update (3/3/23):
Decided to make an update because a few people messaged me about what I decided to do. However, before I get into that, the other reason I decided to make this post was because he is a very vindictive person, and the stuff he's done since post-breakup has really shown that. Someone from our friend group tried to talk to him about the drugs he was doing, but he brushed him off and vented about him online too. He also cut off others from our friend group who tried to tell him that his friend was only looking out for him, and that led to him blocking many of them from his phone and socials
For the record, I didn't tell them about his heroin usage. He vented to one of the people in our friend group about why I left and told him, and that was how the others found out. I also posted my original post in a music related community where it received more helpful comments/traction, but I also received a lot of DMs from people who agreed with my ex-boyfriend and said that I was wrong to leave him even after he berated me online and nearly threw something at me too, and I didn't mention that part in my post
So for that reason, I deleted my post from that music community. However, a few people reached out asking what resolve I came to, and that led me to make an update in case it might help someone who experienced similar. I thought about scrapping the song entirely, but I liked the 95 percentish of the melody that I wrote with the exception of the 4 words/syllables that he helped write the vocal melody for. I also want to note that I wrote all of the lyrics for the song as well in conjunction with the story, but I struggled to rewrite the vocal melody that he made which led me to seek help because the song means a lot to me too
In regards to what I did with my song, I decided to hire someone (commission songwritesinger) to hear the song and recreate his part of the vocal melody in her own original style (because vocal melodies aren't my strong suit) because it was written to my lyrics. She listened to the song and recreated the vocal melodies that my ex-boyfriend made while trying to make it fit/blend in with the vocal melody parts I had written, and I think she did a good job
I wrote all of the lyrics, and my ex only wrote the vocal melody for 4 words/syllables in the verse whereas I wrote the rest of the verse/chorus/bridge melody myself. She kept the parts I made and replaced his partial verse melody with her own original melody, and I believe that that was a slightly better course of action. I also don't plan to monetize the YouTube video of the song too. There will be a donation link in the description of the video, but the video will not make profit from YouTube monetization. I hope I made the right course of action, but I will continue to hear advice from others too as I continued my process. I appreciate everyone who commented and gave advice and helpful DMs too, and I hope that my update perhaps helps someone else who may be torn about what to do in a similar situation
Some people suggested scrapping the entire song and creating a new one because of the memories associated to my ex, but I disagreed that he should tarnish the song I had written in conjunction with my story for years because he turned out to be an ass. I don't think him being an ass should destroy what I worked on, and I think it's important to move forward despite him because people will sometimes let you down, but it doesn't mean you have to let them tarnish your work. I also understand if people want to remove all memory of a person after a breakup, and I don't think there's a set rule for it. I think it depends on the person and what they feel comfortable doing. And for me, I didn't want to let him and his addiction destroy one of my first original songs
2023.03.28 21:38 hempitecture [MegaThread] Save Money, Save Energy, and Save the Planet: Home Improvement Incentives with the Inflation Reduction Act and US-made HempWool Insulation 🏡 🇺🇸
![[MegaThread] Save Money, Save Energy, and Save the Planet: Home Improvement Incentives with the Inflation Reduction Act and US-made HempWool Insulation 🏡 🇺🇸](https://external-preview.redd.it/DFfQ6K7K85zoSWqI3GO0I5ijUzF7Jt4AIs0LmclSkRU.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=13b6c92350995e611d3daffde58ec9e025972955 "[MegaThread] Save Money, Save Energy, and Save the Planet: Home Improvement Incentives with the Inflation Reduction Act and US-made HempWool Insulation 🏡 🇺🇸") | TLDR; Hello homeowners and builders! Are you looking to save money on your energy bills while reducing your carbon footprint? Look no further than the incentives with Inflation Reduction Act and HempWool insulation. submitted by hempitecture to u/hempitecture [link] [comments] The Inflation Reduction Act is a federal program that offers tax credits and rebates to homeowners who invest in energy-efficient improvements for their homes. These improvements include insulation, HVAC systems, and renewable energy sources. HempWool is high-performing, non-toxic, and mold-resistant. HempWool® is a high-performing bio-based and nontoxic building insulation product. With a high R-value, HempWool is an excellent choice for both new construction and retrofit projects. HavenGrown installing HempWool insulation in their Healthy Hemp Tiny Home! What is Hempitecture? What's HempWool insulation?Hemp-itecture (pronounced similar to architecture) is an evolving pursuit to address the problems that exist within the built environment using bio-based and regenerative materials.Since its inception, Hempitecture led the way in bio-based building methods in the United States, including the supply and completion of over 20 hempcrete projects, ranging from small builds to intricate projects designed by world-renowned architects, and from those projects, Hempitecture took another. pivot. forward: Scaling a solution; truly sustainable materials. Manufactured in the United States with renewable energy, North American-grown hemp fiber, and innovative technology, HempWool® is a high-performing bio-based and nontoxic building insulation product. HempWool is appropriate for anywhere in a structure’s thermal envelope, including walls, floors, ceilings, attics, and partition walls. It is a one-to-one replacement for conventional insulation materials like fiberglass, mineral wool, and spray foam. How does the Inflation Reduction Act impact HempWool insulation?The Inflation Reduction Act aims to reduce the cost of construction materials and promote energy efficiency in buildings. As a sustainable and energy-efficient insulation material, HempWool could be an excellent choice for builders and homeowners looking to take advantage of the incentives offered by the act. These incentives may include tax credits, rebates, and other financial incentives that can help offset the cost of using HempWool insulation.Beginning on January 1, 2023, the expanded 25C will provide a 30% tax credit (up to $1200 annually) to consumers who take certain steps to make their homes more energy efficient, which includes updating and improving your buildings' insulation. 2023 applications have to comply with the 2021 IECC. Benefits of Building and Retrofitting with HempWool®HempWool can provide numerous climate, energy efficiency, and structural benefits to homes:
You can purchase HempWool online here. HempWool Insulation is installed in a garage renovation project. How to get incentives for using HempWool insulationTo get incentives for using HempWool insulation, there are a few steps that builders and homeowners can take. First, it's important to research the specific incentives that are available in your area. This may involve contacting local or state government offices, as well as researching online to find out what incentives are available. Here are some websites you can start your research on potential building incentives and tax rebates, as well as where to find more resources on HempWool Insulation:
We will work to keep folks updated via our website newsletter and through this thread on any new information and updates on these incentives. We encourage you to share your experiences with energy-efficient home improvements and ask any questions you may have about the Inflation Reduction Act or HempWool insulation. We are working to compile a list of incentives offered by cities and states, know of one in your area? Share it below! Let's work together to make our homes more energy-efficient and sustainable! |
2023.03.28 21:21 sleepy_stagbeetle How to open the upper section/amp assy/head on the Dyson Pure Hot+Cool 2018 Model HP04 ???
 | submitted by sleepy_stagbeetle to dyson [link] [comments] |
2023.03.28 18:40 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, Kara Gamma, BFK Freehand, BFK Bright Water, Spec Gloves Kimono, Nomad Fade, M9 Doppler, Skeleton, BFK B.Steel, AWP Fade, Stiletto Fade, S.Gloves Slingshot, BFK Ultra, Kara Damas, Bayo Lore, Bayo Gamma, Flip Fade & A Lot More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $1867
★ Butterfly Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $1098
★ Butterfly Knife Blue Steel BS, B/O: $907
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $789
★ Butterfly Knife Stained FT, B/O: $695
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $888
★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $727
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $608
★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $521
★ Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $253
★ Bayonet Night FT, B/O: $251
★ StatTrak™ Bayonet Lore MW, B/O: $751
⎯★ Karambit Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1343
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $774
★ Karambit Rust Coat BS, B/O: $537
★ Karambit Boreal Forest FT, B/O: $488
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523
★ M9 Bayonet Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1008
★ M9 Bayonet Blue Steel FT, B/O: $534
★ M9 Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $449
⎯★ Flip Knife Fade FN, B/O: $703
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $509
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $406
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $228
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $332
⎯★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $292
★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $264
★ Falchion Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Falchion Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $133
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Fade FN, B/O: $822
★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $569
★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $530
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $396
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $172
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $830
★ Gut Knife Fade FN, B/O: $204
★ Gut Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $138
★ Gut Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $104
★ Gut Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $92
★ Gut Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $82
★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $93
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $258
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $165
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Bright Water FT, B/O: $82
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel WW, B/O: $80
★ Shadow Daggers Rust Coat BS, B/O: $74
★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade FN, B/O: $186
⎯★ Classic Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $311
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $163
⎯★ Talon Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $605
★ Talon Knife Scorched MW, B/O: $290
⎯★ Ursus Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $405
★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe MW, B/O: $162
⎯★ Paracord Knife Stained WW, B/O: $125
★ Paracord Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
★ Paracord Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $96
⎯★ Navaja Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $71
★ Navaja Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $71
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1015
★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $909
★ Bowie Knife Boreal Forest MW, B/O: $106
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $335
★ Driver Gloves King Snake BS, B/O: $270
★ Driver Gloves Lunar Weave WW, B/O: $113
★ Driver Gloves Overtake WW, B/O: $88
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $67
⎯★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $171
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $137
★ Moto Gloves Transport WW, B/O: $71
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $62
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1027
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $654
★ Specialist Gloves Mogul FT, B/O: $295
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $277
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web FT, B/O: $275
⎯★ Sport Gloves Slingshot FT, B/O: $796
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $699
★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $656
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Unhinged BS, B/O: $60
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $864
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $84
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69
AWP Wildfire FT, B/O: $59
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $59
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565
Desert Eagle Printstream FN, B/O: $155
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $58
⎯M4A1-S Icarus Fell FN, B/O: $414
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1402
M4A4 The Emperor FN, B/O: $152
M4A4 Asiimov WW, B/O: $97
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $65
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $123
StatTrak™ USP-S Neo-Noir FN, B/O: $106
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $218
P2000 Ocean Foam FN, B/O: $139
Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike MW, B/O: $81
CZ75-Auto Emerald Quartz MW, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.03.28 18:34 Illustrious-War-6501 [A4A] Who Let The Final Girl Chug A Molotov Cocktail?! [Reverse-Yandere] [Yandere(?)] [WARNING: THIS IS A CHONKER] [READ DESCRIPTION: V IMPORTANT] [Part 1 (I Had to Split it)]
Hi, I just want to include a disclaimer here: this script is NOT for the faint of heart. This shit gets dark, as both the speaker and listener characters are real sick, sadistic pieces of shit. Please proceed with caution or click off if you’re uncomfortable with any of the themes mentioned.
I’ve included a full list of tags here: [AFA] [M4A] [F4A] [Reverse-Yandere] [Yandere(?)] [Sadistic Speaker] [Not in the 'Fun' Way] [Private Eye] [Mystery] [Horror] [Thriller] [Stalking] [Betrayal] [Listener's Plan Backfiring] [Drugging and Mentions of Drugging] [Lots of Swearing] [Bad Jokes] [Coffee Shop AU Gone Wrong] [Being Tied Up and Gagged] [Speaker Character: So, Anyway, I Started Monologuing; As a Treat :)))] [Bad Policing] [Possible Nepotism] [Breaking and Entering] [Mentions of Murder] [Mentions of Torture] [Some Psychological Torture Elements] [Threats of Bodily Harm] [Death Threats] [Stress Positions at the End]
I am a keen fan of horror and it definitely shows. If you’re not a fan of the horror and/or thriller genres, this probably isn’t for you.
This is not and should not be interpreted as a kink/fetish thing. I am Ace and, consequently, I am very uncomfortable with my work being sexualised. That being said, while I do not approve of any of the genders in the script being changed (especially that of the listener, as I want to keep this open to everyone), I am more understanding towards rewording and/or leaving some of the more uncomfortable parts or trigger words out.
None of what’s mentioned here is meant to, in anyway, mock or glorify their real world equivalents. I just like writing evil characters who deserve everything that’s coming to them. They’re fun to hate and rip apart :)
Personally, I would be reluctant to classify this as ASMR. I feel that Audio Roleplay would a better title, simply because this is anything but relaxing.
If you want to monetise this mess, by all means feel free, aside from places with paywalls like Patreon, and give me credit. Please just send a link in the comments, so I can see it :)
Also, please don’t use stolen art in your thumbnails. Credit the artists. Thanks :)
(Wow, I have spent way too long on this lol; the brain worms demanded a sacrifice and they are finally satiated)
***
(For Speaker)
This past year had easily been the most terrifying in your life. It had taken an honestly embarrassingly long time to put the pieces together but you finally had the full picture. And it was a hideous, monstrous thing.
No-one was coming to save you. You’d learnt that lesson the hard way. You were alone, forced to placate and humour a monster that was drawing closer and closer, toying with its food. It wanted to hurt you. It would hurt you if you didn’t do anything.
So, how to you hurt a monster? You become one yourself.
And if you happen to get a little carried away? Oh, well. You’ve always been a strong believer in karma anyway…
***
(For Listener)
Finally, after years of waiting, this was it. It had taken so long and so much effort but it was finally going to pay off. That cute little barista (with a certainly interesting side-gig) was inviting you over to their house. It would just be the two of you. No friends. No family. No distractions or witnesses. You’d made sure of that.
They were finally within your grasp. They were finally going to be yours. To have. To love. To ruin.
It’s going to be exhilarating finally being able to watch their sweet face morph in pain, knowing you were the only thing on their mind.
Finally, you’ll be alone with them. Nothing can go wrong…
***
(Use general sound effects and background music to make scenes more immersive)
(Sound of knocking, followed by front door opening)
Heyyyyyyy! Good see you!
(Sound of hugging. Speaker then pulls back and claps listener on the back)
Come in, come in! Welcome to my humble abode!
(Sound of door shutting)
Shoe rack is over here and coat hooks are at the end of the hall.
Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?
[.]
(Customer service voice) And do you want any milk or sugar with that? I have soya or oat milk, if you’d prefer (a laugh).
[.]
Cool. I’ll be back in a moment. Make yourself at home.
(Sound of two pairs of footsteps and then listener sitting down on the sofa)
(Distant sound of kettle boiling and speaker humming)
(A few moments later the sound of footsteps and a couple of mugs being set on a table)
Theeeere we go. The green mug is yours.
It‘s not as nice as the stuff I make back at the shop. But I’m sure you can forgive me for the ‘egregious sin’ of not having an industrial coffee grinder.
Do you want to listen to some music?
[.]
(Sound of footsteps)
(Sound of radio switching various stations and loud static)
(Annoyed tone) Ah, it’s acting up again, stupid thing. Damnit.
(Sound of radio being turned off)
(Voice apologetic) Never mind. Sorry.
(Footsteps, followed by sound of speaker sitting down on sofa)
(Sound of listener picking up the mug and taking a swig)
Damn, already? That must be scalding!
[.]
Whatever you say. Weirdo. So, how have you been?
[.]
Yeah, I’ve been good, thanks. Working costumer service has been as much of a blessing as ever! (Short laugh)
[.] (Sound of listener taking a sip)
(Joking tone/banter) Oh, don’t you dare give me that ‘tHe CuStoMeR iS aLwiSe rIgHt’ crap! Do you have any idea how many lectures I get from my boss? All I do is reflect particularly rude customers’ energy back at them. With the way she goes on, you’d think I murdered babies for a living and drank their parents’ tears. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t fired me already. It would be a blessing by this point. But I’m pretty sure she can’t afford to.
Oh, yeah. That reminds me. Get this, right? I swear to God, just the other day, there was a lady who came in and demanded so many shots of espresso I was worried her heart was going to give out there and then. I asked if she was sure and she just looked me dead in the eye, eye bags plain as day, and said: ‘Straight caffeine powder isn’t legal anymore; so, this’ll have to do.’ Honestly, main character energy.
[.]
Exactly. It’s her world. We’re just living in it.
[.]
She’s come in a few times but I wouldn’t call her a regular. I think I saw her wearing a lanyard with the name of the local secondary school on it. So, I’m pretty sure she works there. ‘Can’t really blame her if that’s the case, can I? (A laugh).
[.] (Sound of listener taking a sip)
I’m mean, I probably should’ve refused to serve her. But I couldn’t bring myself to. She looked so dead inside and I’m not that cruel.
Besides, it’s not my responsibility if something happened, you know? It was her decision.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Especially if you get caught out being an idiot.
[.]
No, I don’t think anything happened. I didn’t hear anything, at least.
Admittedly, I haven’t seen her at the shop since. But I also haven’t seen any new job listings at said school. So, you never know… (A laugh).
Maybe I’m being haunted by her eternally-caffeinated spirit for my coffee-related crimes against humanity (speaker makes silly ‘OoOoOoOo’ sound).
(Sound of mug falling over and tea spilling)
Oh, fuck!
(Sound of both speaker and listener getting up)
(Voice sound exasperated) Fucking Hell!
(Voice gentler) Did any spill on you?
[.]
Good. You wait here. I’ll go grab some paper towels.
(Sound of speaker walking away and coming back a few moments later)
(Sound of speaker wiping up the spill)
[.]
Hey, don’t apologise. I was the one who knocked it over because I was being a dumbarse.
Maybe that was Espresso Lady’s revenge! Forever dooming me to spill hot drinks to protect future victims from my wrath.
(Sound of heart beat suddenly thundering in the listener’s ears)
Shit are you okay? You look faint.
[.]
I’ll go grab you some water, hold on.
(Sounds of hurried footsteps, as speaker walks away)
(Sound of hurried footsteps approaching a few moments later)
Bloody Hell, my life is turning into a fetch quest. Okay, maybe not the time for jokes.
Here.
[.]
(Sound of water being drunk from a plastic cup)(Continuous throughout section)
(Placating tone) Thaaaaaat’s it. Small sips. Don’t want you vomiting.
Thaaaaaat’s it. Don’t fight it. You’ll only give yourself a headache. Shshshshsh…
Thaaaaaaaaat’s it. You’re doing so well.
A little more to fully wash it down and… theeeere we go…
(Sound fades out)
***
(Sound fades back in and speaker is humming ‘Final Girl’ by Graveyardguy)(Ignore if not safe for copyright. Replace with general sounds of busywork)
Ah, back with me? Well, at the risk of sounding like a Skyrim NPC, you’re finally awake. You took your sweet time.
Too bad for you Espresso Lady spilled the wrong one, huh? … Nevermind, that was terrible anyway.
Don’t struggle, don’t struggle. Well, I mean, you can if you want. I doubt the circulation to your hands and feet would appreciate it though. Just take a second to get your bearings.
Also, don’t mind the gag. I’m just not in the mood for your screaming.
I know it must be torture, not being able to run your mouth for once in your life. But, honestly… seeing you like this is (tone slightly breathless) so cathartic. Look at you.
To be honest, I was worried that seeing you like this would make me chicken out. It’s one thing to fantasise about something; it’s another thing entirely to see it in front of you.
That wide-eyed expression. ‘Surprisingly cute and innocuous for a creature so vile. You should make it more often. And I’m more than willing to help.
(A laugh) It’s funny: before all this, the last thing I would’ve regarded myself as was a sadist. A strong believer in karma, yes, but not a sadist. But, then again, I’d never despised anyone so entirely before either. I’ve never wanted hurt someone so badly before. You really do bring out the worst in me.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Sooo, let’s address the elephant in the room: I know you’ve been stalking me. It’s why I brought you here, actually. I’ve been investigating you for a while.
I know! The resident private eye decided to do a background check. Shocker(!)
Turns out I can do a little more than just latte art, huh?
(Tone mocking) Awww, poor thing. How does it feel to be outplayed, for once?
Does it hurt? Does it scare you? Not knowing what was happening just under your nose? Thinking that you could trust someone, only to find out they had their own ulterior motives?
It scared me. More than you know. But I’m sure you’re going to become very familiar with that feeling. Very soon. Just like I did.
But I’m sure if you could talk, besides the screaming for help, you’d be asking a lot of questions. Like why I’m doing this? Or how I found you out?
I owe you nothing. I really don’t. But because I’m nice, I’ll tell you a little story. A truly ‘captivating’ tale. I know, I know, bad joke.
I have a lot I want to say. Self-indulgent, sure, but I think I more than deserve it, given all the shit I’ve been through. Consider this my ‘villain’ speech. Doomsday weapon not included.
It all started when I was realised I was being followed home. I won’t lie, I was embarrassingly slow on the uptake. Ironic, given my job but what can you do?
It had been late at night, having just closed up, and I was headed to the bus station. The streets were almost entirely deserted, aside from the occasional night owl or drunk. It was peaceful.
And then I saw a figure, with their hood drawn up, out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t think anything of it. Why would I? So, together we walked down to the bus stop, not saying a word, and got on a bus. So far, so normal.
When we got to my stop, I got off. And I noticed that that same person had gotten off with me. Again nothing really unusual. Except we were taking the exact same route. Both at the same even pace, except that the mystery figure followed from just further down the road. Just far down enough that, if I hadn’t seen them get off at the same stop, I honestly wouldn’t have thought anything of it. We matched each other perfectly, road for road, turn for turn.
I’ve always been mildly paranoid. Kinda need to be, for the type of work I do. So, as we got closer and closer to my neighbourhood, I started to get anxious. We’d been taking the same route for a good half hour and I still hadn’t seen their face.
So, I decided to test my hypothesis. I took a left. They took a left. I took another left. They took another left. I took yet another left. They look that same left. I went straight. They went straight. I took a right. They took a right. I took another right. They did too.
By that point I was certain, so I crossed as many random roads as I could, provided they were well lit, until I was satisfied that I’d lost my pursuer. And then I headed home.
I would’ve forgotten about it, written it off as just a random mugger. But I couldn’t. Not given the then-recent disappearance. Disappearances happen all the time. It’s a big city, with plenty of shady alleys and shadier people. The world isn’t going to stop turning just because one poor soul vanished off the face of it. But this one stood out. It was an old classmate of mine, I believe, back in college. The guy was an arsehole; nobody liked him. Least of all myself, given how he used to torment me. But, still, the effect was the same. It just… stuck with me.
I wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of travelling via public transport. But I didn’t have a choice. My car had failed its MOT spectacularly. So, I was in the middle of the long, painful process of finding another.
It set me on edge and I started to feel like I was being watched every time I headed home. Did you know there’s a word for that? The sensation of being watched. Scopaesthesia. For some reason, I’ve never thought that sounded right.
But regardless of whatever it’s called or should be called, it started to freak me out, the longer it went on. I kept seeing that same hooded figure, out the corner of my eye.
I stuck to the lit streets, even if it took me a good 15 minutes longer. None of my co-workers could walk me home, as they lived on the other side of town.
Maybe that’s why I noticed the pattern. Because I was already on-guard.
I enjoyed your company. I’d even argue that I looked forward to it. I started working at that café when I was strapped for cash and it was the only place that would take me. ‘Not exactly my first choice and I wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to get a second job, in the first place. But you made it bearable.
You were nice. Maybe a little overly flirty but nice. You were the type of person to chat at the counter, while I made your drink, and just ask how I was doing. Who I told which drinks to try and which tasted foul. Who I gave occasional discounts to, just for the sake of it.
You treated me like an actual person. Not dirt under your shoes or a convenience to be tolerated. (Voice sounding mildly hurt) Perhaps I would’ve even gone as far as to call us friends.
I kept seeing you outside of work, from time to time. At first I thought nothing of it. Given how frequently you visited the shop, it wasn’t hard to imagine that you lived or worked locally. But then I kept seeing you. And kept seeing you. And kept seeing you.
I saw the way you side-eyed me. The way you often had your phone angled at me, like you were taking a photo.
It didn’t take long to guess that I was being tailed. Given my line of work, it’s not rare for PIs to be followed by other PIs. Das ist the beauty of counter-surveillance. And it’s not like you were being very subtle. That’s what I thought at first. So, I did some digging.
It would take way too long to describe everything that I did. So, I’ll give you the cliff notes version.
During one of your visits, I said that there was an issue regarding your membership and that I’d need your details, including your full name and email. That’s how I got hold of your surname.
Using that, I looked on various public databases and found your address. And, sure enough, you lived maybe 5, 10 minutes away from my place of work.
Moreover, your license plate matched that of a car that had been parking outside my house for weeks.
Googling your name, I found your LinkedIn. No mention of any affiliation with any kind of PI agency, law firm or police department. Nothing that seemed to suggest any training either. You were in a completely different field. That set off immediate red flags.
If you weren’t a PI then why were you following me?
At that point, I tried to report my findings to the police. Multiple times. Even if you lacked a criminal record, beyond a couple of speeding tickets, it was obvious I was being stalked. But everything that I had gathered was circumstantial. Even the photographic evidence of you following me was apparently questionable, as it could’ve been just a bad case of wrong place, wrong time. So they did nothing.
They just… brushed me off.
(Sarcasm) Which was extremely helpful.
Can you imagine that for a moment? Assuming you’re even capable of empathy. The very people who had hired you in the past, who understood your capabilities and trusted you because of them, suddenly dismissing you? Despite how many times they’d relied on you gathering evidence? …Despite how much time you’d spent with them?
If I’m being honest, it stung. But fine.
If they weren’t going to do anything because of a lack of poof, then I would find proof.
So I kept digging.
I looked at your social media and searched for who was most frequently tagged or mentioned. From there, I approached those that I could and struck up casual conversation. Most of it was superficial fluff. Nothing of substance, even when I mentioned being a loose friend of yours. After the sixth attempt that had gone absolutely fucking nowhere, I was tempted to call it a dead end. But I decided to head down to the local pub and try again anyway.
Jackpot.
Admittedly, it was probably because he already had a few drinks in him, but your friend Jake was most forthcoming. Very friendly bloke. When I mentioned you, he was more than happy to talk about your relationship. Ranging from what the pair of you did at work. To the fact you didn’t like inviting others over. To your little ‘thing’ for a quote unquote ‘cute local barista’.
As you can imagine, that latter part peaked my interest.
Apparently, you’d been meaning to ask for their number, for who knows how long. That’s what you told him, at least.
So, you were so very lucky when that same barista offered you a wink and their number a few days later! The look on your little face… honestly, precious…
(Tone sour) It was a little less ‘precious’ when I started to notice my possessions going ‘missing’.
It was mostly small things, at first. Things that, if I hadn’t been looking for them, I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
But as the months went by and we talked more and more, you got bolder.
It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore and I knew if I didn’t say anything it would start to look suspicious. Who wouldn’t start getting pissed off and ranting at not being able to find whatever they were looking for? Especially to their friends?
So, I complained to you about it. Ranting on and on about how I’d put something down and it’d ‘magically disappear’. It’s not like I wasn’t frustrated. And every time I mentioned it, all you did was laugh and say that I was ‘scatter-brained’ and ‘it would probably turn up eventually’.
You were toying with me. I could see it in the way you looked at me, that glimmer of possessiveness in your eye. I could feel it in the way you stalked me, like a predator circling prey, drawing ever closer but not willing to end the chase just yet. I wasn’t a person to you. I was a prize, a thing to be won.
Hell, at one point, you even had the audacity to mention that one of your hobbies was lock-picking.
You were so sure you were pulling one over on me. (Voice full of vitriol) It was disgusting.
(A pause for a few seconds)
I got a home alarm soon after that little chat. I’d been meaning to for months. But you mentioning that particular little detail made it apparent that I couldn’t put it off any longer. It was only a small thing. ‘All I could afford at the time. (Voice sounding defeated) It never worked.
Hell, I don’t think it even worked as a deterrent.
(Half-muttered to self) Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure my radio started acting on the fritz around the same time. ‘Thought that was probably only coincidence. I can’t blame you for everything that’s gone wrong in my life. Only most of it.
Knowing that started making me even more paranoid. Sometimes, I’d swear that I saw movement in the corner of my eye. Or heard footsteps down the hall. I would look around but never found anything. I wasn’t sleeping well, as you can imagine, so my first impulse was to blame that. Surely you wouldn’t be so brazen or stupid as to break in when you knew I would be home… would you?
That didn’t stop me from keeping 999 on speed dial though.
Sometimes, I’d even call you, just to keep account of where you were or what you were doing. Sometimes you picked up. Sometimes you didn’t. The times you didn’t scared me.
You loved it. I could hear the smug smile in your voice whenever I called you. Knowing that you got off to it, that you though I was weak and just that desperate for your company… It was humiliating.
If I couldn’t get through to you, I called my friends. I always made sure that I had at least one person on the line, at any point that I felt eyes burning into the back of my head. So that if anything ever happened to me, someone would know.
Even as some of them grew increasingly distant or stopped responding all together, I kept calling. If my old friends refused to pick up, I made new ones at work or online. Co-workers, patrons. Anyone that was practically chatty, really. It wasn’t the best solution and I’m pretty sure that my calls at three in the morning weren’t best appreciated but it was the best I could do.
I’ve always been good at saying what people want to hear.
As time went on, things started to slow until they just kinda… plateaued. I couldn’t find anything else. Sure you had a life online but nothing that I could use to incriminate you. Using open-source intelligence was proving painfully fruitless. Brute-forcing your credentials wasn’t working. At least you weren’t enough of a ‘lovesick’ fool to use my name as a password.
I even managed to find out your Wi-Fi password. Only for my moment of triumph to be crushed by finding out you used a VPN on all your devices. There was nothing Wireshark could do about that. I considered slamming my head into a wall, after that little discovery.
But beyond that, the constant dread became almost routine. When I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend it was like before. That I was just laughing and joking with my friend, rather than teasing a bear trap, hoping to God that it wouldn’t spring on me.
(Deep breath)
Of course, after I’d been talking, hanging out in public and following you for a while, I had a pretty good idea of your general schedule.
So, I decided to pay your home a visit while you were out.
Now, normally, I wouldn’t do anything so blatantly illegal. It’s a major risk to my credibility. But I was getting desperate… and off the clock, sooo…
(Sigh)
(More serious tone) Despite everything, I wanted to be proven wrong, you know. That I was just being paranoid. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Maybe you were just someone with a crush, who was visiting a friend or family member in my neighbourhood. Even though I knew none of them lived nearby.
Maybe I really was just an idiot losing their shit and you just had poor timing and some unfortunate hobbies.
Maybe you were just socially awkward and I was seeing things that weren’t there.
I got inside and the first thing that struck me was the smell. The place reeked of rot and cleaner, sharp and acrid, making my stomach churn.
I crept through the darkness, despite myself. I knew you weren’t home. I had watched you leave and had meticulously checked your schedule for hours beforehand. I know I should’ve turned on my torch sooner. But I couldn’t help it. It felt wrong, even when I was trampling paper underfoot. I strayed deeper and deeper into the darkness, until I found what I assumed would be your bedroom, if the single lit window at night was anything to go by.
Finally, I turned on my torch and…
(Horrified tone) The walls were covered in hundreds, upon hundreds of pictures of me. Some at my places of work, some while I was asleep, some from inside my own home.
I barely suppressed a wave of bile and a horse cry died in my suddenly-too-dry throat, giving way to a low moan of terror.
All I could do was stare, unable to tear my eyes away. Scanning over row after row after row of photographs.
(Incredulous laugh) I still don’t know how you took some of them. I pretty much always keep my curtains and blinds shut.
All those private little moments. Rereading an old favourite. Singing along to a shitty pop song on Heart with a little too much enthusiasm. Just taking a nice hot shower for a little longer than strictly necessary. Violated.
There was even a fucking shrine.
You had stolen so much. Including stuff that I hadn’t even noticed, despite actively being on-guard. Clothes, the contents of my bins, post that had never arrived… (Tone of revulsion) underwear… And that’s just stuff off the top of my head.
There were pieces of paper and notebooks everywhere. Some were filled with nothing but my name, over and over and over again. Others were filled with declarations of ‘love’. And some were filled with fantasies about what you’d do to me. Many of which were… violent.
I rifled through your drawers and found everything, ranging from ropes to what looked like possible roofies to copies of my work diary
I kept looking around. I couldn’t stop myself.
I thought this had been going on for a few months, outside. But I was wrong. This had been going on for years. I’d been watched for years and had never realised.
Eventually it reached a point that there were so many pictures and pages and papers that they almost became mundane. Almost.
I don’t know how long I wandered there. Minutes? Hours? It was like time itself understood the horror of what I’d found and stood still in shock. For such a moderately-sized home, the corridors were strangely endless. Like they wanted to entomb me. That’s obviously what their owner wanted.
Finally, on the ground floor, I saw the door to your cellar. It was white. Simple. Non-descript. And, yet, it felt… off. It was weirdly compelling. Like I needed to go down there. Like I needed to know what was down there.
The closer I drew, the more magnetic it became, emanating this strange ‘aura’, for lack of a better term.
Of course, I realised how stupid it was. Everyone knows that the idiot who wanders down into the murder basement in a horror movie doesn’t make it out alive.
But you were gone and I was already snooping, so what was a little more?
It was locked but only with a simple padlock. Nothing too difficult.
I picked it with little resistance and started to walk down the stairs. They were unlit. And kept going down and down and down, deeper and deeper. It felt far too deep for a normal basement. Like the earth itself was trying to swallow me whole.
When I reached the bottom, it was pitch-black, with only the torchlight to illuminate my surroundings, barely piercing the darkness.
The air was thick with dust and bleach. So much bleach it made my eyes water and my head spin.
Eventually, I managed to find the light switch. I pawed at it and a single, naked bulb spluttered into life, momentarily blinding me. When my sight finally cleared, I peered around the room now cast in a sickly-yellow hue.
It was… small. No, not small. Small is the wrong word. Cramped. Suffocating. The walls felt close and oppressive. The wall closest to me was covered in shelving, littered with various boxes, tools and general DIY stuff, like paints and solvents.
But that wasn’t what drew my eye.
No, what filled me with abject horror was on the other side of the room.
It was a cell, made up of floor to ceiling bars. Each black pillar easily as thick as my forearm. With just enough room to fit an arm through but nothing more. The door was open.
In front of it was an old, wooden table. It was worn but clearly still sturdy, with various objects scattered across it.
I drew closer. I wish I hadn’t.
On the table was a box and a few small black things. At first I thought they were wing nuts. But as I got closer and my eyes adjusted to the low light, I realised they were part of larger mechanisms. I picked up one of the strange objects to get a better look and something black flaked off in my hand. It was too course and gritty to be paint.
It took me a few moments to recognise it but as soon as I did I felt my stomach drop.
It was a thumbscrew. A fucking thumbscrew that had been used.
I put it back on the table and immediately tried to rub off the sensation of brittle rust. I rubbed and rubbed until my skin felt raw, a dull sting drowning it out.
I turned my attention back to the table. The box sat there, innocently.
I had to open it. I knew I did. I was in too deep now.
So, I watched, numb, as my hands reached towards it. As they unhooked the simple latch, the only thing keeping it closed. As they took out piece after piece of paper.
It felt like my mind was underwater and, for a moment, the only coherent thought that filtered through was that the paper felt weirdly tacky against my glove. Like photo paper.
I looked and, sure enough, that’s what they were. Each picture perfectly glossy without a single finger print in sight. Each A5 piece depicted a close up of single person looking straight at the camera, expression blank.
Something about them struck me as odd and, as I peered closer, I realised their hair was wrong. Instead of fully falling down, like hair normally does, it instead seemed to slightly splay out to the sides. Like the people being photographed were lying down at the time.
I looked closer and felt my blood turn to ice.
These weren’t normal pictures or selfies.
No, these were different.
The subjects’ eyes were cold and glassy. Unseeing.
They were the eyes of corpses.
The photos were… trophies. Each commemorating a different person.
And I realised I recognised some of them. Each having harassed me at some point in my life. At school, at my work… I wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ growing up. I attracted bullies like moths to flame. And you knew it.
I don’t know how long I stared at them before having the common-sense to flip one over.
There was writing on the back, something in red pen. It was completely illegible.
I flipped over another. The same. I flipped over a couple more until I found one that had something actually readable on the back: ‘They’re mine to ruin’.
I didn’t understand at the time, still don’t, but if I had to hazard a guess as to why, I’d say that this wasn’t some attempt to protect me or my honour. This wasn’t you ‘eliminating any possible competition’. It was because you were jealous. You were jealous that they got to hurt me first, instead of you. You wanted and still want to ‘ruin’ me. To tear me down, bit by bit.
I counted 8 total. Only 5 were official missing persons’ cases.
Once my hands stopped shaking, I put the photos back in the box and redirected my attention to the cell, the door still open, as if beckoning me. The shadows were thicker inside.
I turned on my torch and entered. The stench of bleach and ammonia was almost unbearable. And for a moment, I was inexplicably convinced that the door would swing shut, trapping me inside. It didn’t.
Instead, I was stuck by how cold it was and, looking up, I could see a small vent directly above me. I was so distracted that I didn’t look where I was going until – clunk.
My foot hit something thick and heavy, like metal.
I looked down and saw a long cast iron chain, snaking across the floor. What the fuck?
I followed it, torchlight tracing it back to its source at the wall. It connected just shy of head height, doing nothing but leading me to further puzzlement.
I traced it back to the other end.
And then I saw it. At the other end was a large hoop of wrought black metal, with a piece that seemed to swing on a hinge. I couldn’t be…
I picked it up. I had to be sure.
I examined it closer. It was.
It was a fucking collar.
I ran. I barely remembered to turn off the light and lock the door behind me, before I was running out of that house like a bat out of Hell.
I ran all the way home, buses or taxis be damned.
I won’t lie, the first thing I did when I got home was have a panic attack. I didn’t fully calm down for another two and a half hours.
I know because every tick of my watch grated against my ears, causing fresh waves of hysteria to wash over me. Eventually, I ended up lobbing the damn thing across the room. It didn’t break. It was damaged, sure, but it still worked. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to cope if it had.
I didn’t sleep that night.
The next day, I called in to give an anonymous tip that you were potentially in possession of narcotics. It’s not like I could say: ‘Hey! I broke into this creep’s home and the walls were plastered with pictures of my face! I wasn’t trying to steal anything! Promise!’
I just had been so… dumbstruck… that I had forgotten to record, to take photos, to steal proof. To do anything. I’d found a goldmine of evidence. And yet, I’d squandered it completely.
I beat myself up for weeks, afterwards.
I couldn’t bring myself to go back though… not for a good few months.
You were never charged. To be honest, I don’t think they even searched your house. And I’m sure that had nothing to do with your finances. Or the fact that one of your close friends from university was on the local police force.
It didn’t matter anyway.
When I eventually did manage to force myself to go back, I took hundreds of photos, hours of video footage, documenting everything and sent them to the police via an anonymous email account.
Nothing.
I kept my ear to the ground for weeks and there was nothing. Just… dead silence. It was like I had never bothered in the first place.
I would say more on the matter but there’s really nothing else to say.
I sent more emails, all including detailed accounts of my experiences, photos, videos, everything that could be used to detain you. And nothing.
Not even a scolding for breaking and entering.
I didn’t know how you did it. Didn’t care, frankly. But I knew that it was your fault.
With every email, with nothing to show for it, I felt myself losing more and more hope.
Eventually, I just… stopped sending them. I felt entirely hopeless and alone. No-one was coming to save me. I wanted to give up.
You hadn’t hurt me. Maybe you wouldn’t. That’s what I tried to tell myself, at least. I knew I was lying. That cell was more than enough proof.
(Thoughtful tone) But then I had a thought… If no-one was coming to help then I was going to have to resolve things myself. My own way.
(Determined tone) And I’d make you pay when I did.
(A pause)
I don’t think I’d ever felt rage like that, before that day. Such visceral hatred. It felt so strange and horrible and weirdly violating. I felt dirty. And I hated it. But it wouldn’t stop. No amount of guilt would drown it out.
And I started to wonder what it would feel like to wrap my hands around your neck… and just squeeze.
(A pause)
Something changed in me that day. Permanently.
(Deep inhale and exhale)
So, I started to plan. I went back to that wretched house and took everything I needed. Called in a few favours with a couple old friends. Pulled more shifts at the café. Covered more cases. Cheating spouses, mostly. Not exactly the most riveting stuff. There are only so many telenovelas you can watch before they all blend together. But the important thing is that I saved like Hell. And I watched. And I waited. And I listened.
Drawing you in, closer and closer. But not like before. That was like trying to lure a stray mutt into a kennel. This was like luring a wolf into a slaughterhouse.
And after months of preparation and casual hangouts, I finally decided to bite the bullet and invite you over.
And here we are. With you right where I want you.
It wasn’t fun using myself as live bait. But, hey! You can’t deny it worked.
Besides, it’s not like you were thinking any differently. You thought this was your chance, didn’t you? You though ‘Finally, I’m alone with them. Nothing can go wrong.’
I knew full well what you were planning on doing to me. Do you really think I spilled my tea by accident? That I would be stupid enough to invite you into my home, without some kind of plan?
No.
We both had the same idea. After all, great minds think alike. But this is a monster eat monster world. And I was the hungrier monster.
Because this isn’t what good people do or even just what normal people do. This is what monsters do. You made me a monster.
(Introspective tone) … And I’m not as repulsed by that idea as I should be.
After all, it takes a monster to hurt a monster.
I wouldn’t say I’m worse, though. You know, considering (whispered in listener’s ear) I’m not a sick fuck like you.
I’m pretty sure anything I’ve done pales in comparison to the shit you’ve pulled.
Had things gone your way, you had some real twisted shit in store for me. The kind of shit that, once you know, you can’t unknow.
… I can’t even bring myself to say half of it.
And that’s exactly why I’m keeping you here. I follow the personal philosophy of: an eye for an eye. You fuck over me, I fuck over you. I think that’s fair.
Karma’s a bitch, huh?
(To be continued in Part 2 because Reddit was being a bitch)
submitted by Illustrious-War-6501 to ASMRScriptHaven [link] [comments]
I’ve included a full list of tags here: [AFA] [M4A] [F4A] [Reverse-Yandere] [Yandere(?)] [Sadistic Speaker] [Not in the 'Fun' Way] [Private Eye] [Mystery] [Horror] [Thriller] [Stalking] [Betrayal] [Listener's Plan Backfiring] [Drugging and Mentions of Drugging] [Lots of Swearing] [Bad Jokes] [Coffee Shop AU Gone Wrong] [Being Tied Up and Gagged] [Speaker Character: So, Anyway, I Started Monologuing; As a Treat :)))] [Bad Policing] [Possible Nepotism] [Breaking and Entering] [Mentions of Murder] [Mentions of Torture] [Some Psychological Torture Elements] [Threats of Bodily Harm] [Death Threats] [Stress Positions at the End]
I am a keen fan of horror and it definitely shows. If you’re not a fan of the horror and/or thriller genres, this probably isn’t for you.
This is not and should not be interpreted as a kink/fetish thing. I am Ace and, consequently, I am very uncomfortable with my work being sexualised. That being said, while I do not approve of any of the genders in the script being changed (especially that of the listener, as I want to keep this open to everyone), I am more understanding towards rewording and/or leaving some of the more uncomfortable parts or trigger words out.
None of what’s mentioned here is meant to, in anyway, mock or glorify their real world equivalents. I just like writing evil characters who deserve everything that’s coming to them. They’re fun to hate and rip apart :)
Personally, I would be reluctant to classify this as ASMR. I feel that Audio Roleplay would a better title, simply because this is anything but relaxing.
If you want to monetise this mess, by all means feel free, aside from places with paywalls like Patreon, and give me credit. Please just send a link in the comments, so I can see it :)
Also, please don’t use stolen art in your thumbnails. Credit the artists. Thanks :)
(Wow, I have spent way too long on this lol; the brain worms demanded a sacrifice and they are finally satiated)
***
(For Speaker)
This past year had easily been the most terrifying in your life. It had taken an honestly embarrassingly long time to put the pieces together but you finally had the full picture. And it was a hideous, monstrous thing.
No-one was coming to save you. You’d learnt that lesson the hard way. You were alone, forced to placate and humour a monster that was drawing closer and closer, toying with its food. It wanted to hurt you. It would hurt you if you didn’t do anything.
So, how to you hurt a monster? You become one yourself.
And if you happen to get a little carried away? Oh, well. You’ve always been a strong believer in karma anyway…
***
(For Listener)
Finally, after years of waiting, this was it. It had taken so long and so much effort but it was finally going to pay off. That cute little barista (with a certainly interesting side-gig) was inviting you over to their house. It would just be the two of you. No friends. No family. No distractions or witnesses. You’d made sure of that.
They were finally within your grasp. They were finally going to be yours. To have. To love. To ruin.
It’s going to be exhilarating finally being able to watch their sweet face morph in pain, knowing you were the only thing on their mind.
Finally, you’ll be alone with them. Nothing can go wrong…
***
(Use general sound effects and background music to make scenes more immersive)
(Sound of knocking, followed by front door opening)
Heyyyyyyy! Good see you!
(Sound of hugging. Speaker then pulls back and claps listener on the back)
Come in, come in! Welcome to my humble abode!
(Sound of door shutting)
Shoe rack is over here and coat hooks are at the end of the hall.
Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?
[.]
(Customer service voice) And do you want any milk or sugar with that? I have soya or oat milk, if you’d prefer (a laugh).
[.]
Cool. I’ll be back in a moment. Make yourself at home.
(Sound of two pairs of footsteps and then listener sitting down on the sofa)
(Distant sound of kettle boiling and speaker humming)
(A few moments later the sound of footsteps and a couple of mugs being set on a table)
Theeeere we go. The green mug is yours.
It‘s not as nice as the stuff I make back at the shop. But I’m sure you can forgive me for the ‘egregious sin’ of not having an industrial coffee grinder.
Do you want to listen to some music?
[.]
(Sound of footsteps)
(Sound of radio switching various stations and loud static)
(Annoyed tone) Ah, it’s acting up again, stupid thing. Damnit.
(Sound of radio being turned off)
(Voice apologetic) Never mind. Sorry.
(Footsteps, followed by sound of speaker sitting down on sofa)
(Sound of listener picking up the mug and taking a swig)
Damn, already? That must be scalding!
[.]
Whatever you say. Weirdo. So, how have you been?
[.]
Yeah, I’ve been good, thanks. Working costumer service has been as much of a blessing as ever! (Short laugh)
[.] (Sound of listener taking a sip)
(Joking tone/banter) Oh, don’t you dare give me that ‘tHe CuStoMeR iS aLwiSe rIgHt’ crap! Do you have any idea how many lectures I get from my boss? All I do is reflect particularly rude customers’ energy back at them. With the way she goes on, you’d think I murdered babies for a living and drank their parents’ tears. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t fired me already. It would be a blessing by this point. But I’m pretty sure she can’t afford to.
Oh, yeah. That reminds me. Get this, right? I swear to God, just the other day, there was a lady who came in and demanded so many shots of espresso I was worried her heart was going to give out there and then. I asked if she was sure and she just looked me dead in the eye, eye bags plain as day, and said: ‘Straight caffeine powder isn’t legal anymore; so, this’ll have to do.’ Honestly, main character energy.
[.]
Exactly. It’s her world. We’re just living in it.
[.]
She’s come in a few times but I wouldn’t call her a regular. I think I saw her wearing a lanyard with the name of the local secondary school on it. So, I’m pretty sure she works there. ‘Can’t really blame her if that’s the case, can I? (A laugh).
[.] (Sound of listener taking a sip)
I’m mean, I probably should’ve refused to serve her. But I couldn’t bring myself to. She looked so dead inside and I’m not that cruel.
Besides, it’s not my responsibility if something happened, you know? It was her decision.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Especially if you get caught out being an idiot.
[.]
No, I don’t think anything happened. I didn’t hear anything, at least.
Admittedly, I haven’t seen her at the shop since. But I also haven’t seen any new job listings at said school. So, you never know… (A laugh).
Maybe I’m being haunted by her eternally-caffeinated spirit for my coffee-related crimes against humanity (speaker makes silly ‘OoOoOoOo’ sound).
(Sound of mug falling over and tea spilling)
Oh, fuck!
(Sound of both speaker and listener getting up)
(Voice sound exasperated) Fucking Hell!
(Voice gentler) Did any spill on you?
[.]
Good. You wait here. I’ll go grab some paper towels.
(Sound of speaker walking away and coming back a few moments later)
(Sound of speaker wiping up the spill)
[.]
Hey, don’t apologise. I was the one who knocked it over because I was being a dumbarse.
Maybe that was Espresso Lady’s revenge! Forever dooming me to spill hot drinks to protect future victims from my wrath.
(Sound of heart beat suddenly thundering in the listener’s ears)
Shit are you okay? You look faint.
[.]
I’ll go grab you some water, hold on.
(Sounds of hurried footsteps, as speaker walks away)
(Sound of hurried footsteps approaching a few moments later)
Bloody Hell, my life is turning into a fetch quest. Okay, maybe not the time for jokes.
Here.
[.]
(Sound of water being drunk from a plastic cup)(Continuous throughout section)
(Placating tone) Thaaaaaat’s it. Small sips. Don’t want you vomiting.
Thaaaaaat’s it. Don’t fight it. You’ll only give yourself a headache. Shshshshsh…
Thaaaaaaaaat’s it. You’re doing so well.
A little more to fully wash it down and… theeeere we go…
(Sound fades out)
***
(Sound fades back in and speaker is humming ‘Final Girl’ by Graveyardguy)(Ignore if not safe for copyright. Replace with general sounds of busywork)
Ah, back with me? Well, at the risk of sounding like a Skyrim NPC, you’re finally awake. You took your sweet time.
Too bad for you Espresso Lady spilled the wrong one, huh? … Nevermind, that was terrible anyway.
Don’t struggle, don’t struggle. Well, I mean, you can if you want. I doubt the circulation to your hands and feet would appreciate it though. Just take a second to get your bearings.
Also, don’t mind the gag. I’m just not in the mood for your screaming.
I know it must be torture, not being able to run your mouth for once in your life. But, honestly… seeing you like this is (tone slightly breathless) so cathartic. Look at you.
To be honest, I was worried that seeing you like this would make me chicken out. It’s one thing to fantasise about something; it’s another thing entirely to see it in front of you.
That wide-eyed expression. ‘Surprisingly cute and innocuous for a creature so vile. You should make it more often. And I’m more than willing to help.
(A laugh) It’s funny: before all this, the last thing I would’ve regarded myself as was a sadist. A strong believer in karma, yes, but not a sadist. But, then again, I’d never despised anyone so entirely before either. I’ve never wanted hurt someone so badly before. You really do bring out the worst in me.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Sooo, let’s address the elephant in the room: I know you’ve been stalking me. It’s why I brought you here, actually. I’ve been investigating you for a while.
I know! The resident private eye decided to do a background check. Shocker(!)
Turns out I can do a little more than just latte art, huh?
(Tone mocking) Awww, poor thing. How does it feel to be outplayed, for once?
Does it hurt? Does it scare you? Not knowing what was happening just under your nose? Thinking that you could trust someone, only to find out they had their own ulterior motives?
It scared me. More than you know. But I’m sure you’re going to become very familiar with that feeling. Very soon. Just like I did.
But I’m sure if you could talk, besides the screaming for help, you’d be asking a lot of questions. Like why I’m doing this? Or how I found you out?
I owe you nothing. I really don’t. But because I’m nice, I’ll tell you a little story. A truly ‘captivating’ tale. I know, I know, bad joke.
I have a lot I want to say. Self-indulgent, sure, but I think I more than deserve it, given all the shit I’ve been through. Consider this my ‘villain’ speech. Doomsday weapon not included.
It all started when I was realised I was being followed home. I won’t lie, I was embarrassingly slow on the uptake. Ironic, given my job but what can you do?
It had been late at night, having just closed up, and I was headed to the bus station. The streets were almost entirely deserted, aside from the occasional night owl or drunk. It was peaceful.
And then I saw a figure, with their hood drawn up, out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t think anything of it. Why would I? So, together we walked down to the bus stop, not saying a word, and got on a bus. So far, so normal.
When we got to my stop, I got off. And I noticed that that same person had gotten off with me. Again nothing really unusual. Except we were taking the exact same route. Both at the same even pace, except that the mystery figure followed from just further down the road. Just far down enough that, if I hadn’t seen them get off at the same stop, I honestly wouldn’t have thought anything of it. We matched each other perfectly, road for road, turn for turn.
I’ve always been mildly paranoid. Kinda need to be, for the type of work I do. So, as we got closer and closer to my neighbourhood, I started to get anxious. We’d been taking the same route for a good half hour and I still hadn’t seen their face.
So, I decided to test my hypothesis. I took a left. They took a left. I took another left. They took another left. I took yet another left. They look that same left. I went straight. They went straight. I took a right. They took a right. I took another right. They did too.
By that point I was certain, so I crossed as many random roads as I could, provided they were well lit, until I was satisfied that I’d lost my pursuer. And then I headed home.
I would’ve forgotten about it, written it off as just a random mugger. But I couldn’t. Not given the then-recent disappearance. Disappearances happen all the time. It’s a big city, with plenty of shady alleys and shadier people. The world isn’t going to stop turning just because one poor soul vanished off the face of it. But this one stood out. It was an old classmate of mine, I believe, back in college. The guy was an arsehole; nobody liked him. Least of all myself, given how he used to torment me. But, still, the effect was the same. It just… stuck with me.
I wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of travelling via public transport. But I didn’t have a choice. My car had failed its MOT spectacularly. So, I was in the middle of the long, painful process of finding another.
It set me on edge and I started to feel like I was being watched every time I headed home. Did you know there’s a word for that? The sensation of being watched. Scopaesthesia. For some reason, I’ve never thought that sounded right.
But regardless of whatever it’s called or should be called, it started to freak me out, the longer it went on. I kept seeing that same hooded figure, out the corner of my eye.
I stuck to the lit streets, even if it took me a good 15 minutes longer. None of my co-workers could walk me home, as they lived on the other side of town.
Maybe that’s why I noticed the pattern. Because I was already on-guard.
I enjoyed your company. I’d even argue that I looked forward to it. I started working at that café when I was strapped for cash and it was the only place that would take me. ‘Not exactly my first choice and I wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to get a second job, in the first place. But you made it bearable.
You were nice. Maybe a little overly flirty but nice. You were the type of person to chat at the counter, while I made your drink, and just ask how I was doing. Who I told which drinks to try and which tasted foul. Who I gave occasional discounts to, just for the sake of it.
You treated me like an actual person. Not dirt under your shoes or a convenience to be tolerated. (Voice sounding mildly hurt) Perhaps I would’ve even gone as far as to call us friends.
I kept seeing you outside of work, from time to time. At first I thought nothing of it. Given how frequently you visited the shop, it wasn’t hard to imagine that you lived or worked locally. But then I kept seeing you. And kept seeing you. And kept seeing you.
I saw the way you side-eyed me. The way you often had your phone angled at me, like you were taking a photo.
It didn’t take long to guess that I was being tailed. Given my line of work, it’s not rare for PIs to be followed by other PIs. Das ist the beauty of counter-surveillance. And it’s not like you were being very subtle. That’s what I thought at first. So, I did some digging.
It would take way too long to describe everything that I did. So, I’ll give you the cliff notes version.
During one of your visits, I said that there was an issue regarding your membership and that I’d need your details, including your full name and email. That’s how I got hold of your surname.
Using that, I looked on various public databases and found your address. And, sure enough, you lived maybe 5, 10 minutes away from my place of work.
Moreover, your license plate matched that of a car that had been parking outside my house for weeks.
Googling your name, I found your LinkedIn. No mention of any affiliation with any kind of PI agency, law firm or police department. Nothing that seemed to suggest any training either. You were in a completely different field. That set off immediate red flags.
If you weren’t a PI then why were you following me?
At that point, I tried to report my findings to the police. Multiple times. Even if you lacked a criminal record, beyond a couple of speeding tickets, it was obvious I was being stalked. But everything that I had gathered was circumstantial. Even the photographic evidence of you following me was apparently questionable, as it could’ve been just a bad case of wrong place, wrong time. So they did nothing.
They just… brushed me off.
(Sarcasm) Which was extremely helpful.
Can you imagine that for a moment? Assuming you’re even capable of empathy. The very people who had hired you in the past, who understood your capabilities and trusted you because of them, suddenly dismissing you? Despite how many times they’d relied on you gathering evidence? …Despite how much time you’d spent with them?
If I’m being honest, it stung. But fine.
If they weren’t going to do anything because of a lack of poof, then I would find proof.
So I kept digging.
I looked at your social media and searched for who was most frequently tagged or mentioned. From there, I approached those that I could and struck up casual conversation. Most of it was superficial fluff. Nothing of substance, even when I mentioned being a loose friend of yours. After the sixth attempt that had gone absolutely fucking nowhere, I was tempted to call it a dead end. But I decided to head down to the local pub and try again anyway.
Jackpot.
Admittedly, it was probably because he already had a few drinks in him, but your friend Jake was most forthcoming. Very friendly bloke. When I mentioned you, he was more than happy to talk about your relationship. Ranging from what the pair of you did at work. To the fact you didn’t like inviting others over. To your little ‘thing’ for a quote unquote ‘cute local barista’.
As you can imagine, that latter part peaked my interest.
Apparently, you’d been meaning to ask for their number, for who knows how long. That’s what you told him, at least.
So, you were so very lucky when that same barista offered you a wink and their number a few days later! The look on your little face… honestly, precious…
(Tone sour) It was a little less ‘precious’ when I started to notice my possessions going ‘missing’.
It was mostly small things, at first. Things that, if I hadn’t been looking for them, I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
But as the months went by and we talked more and more, you got bolder.
It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore and I knew if I didn’t say anything it would start to look suspicious. Who wouldn’t start getting pissed off and ranting at not being able to find whatever they were looking for? Especially to their friends?
So, I complained to you about it. Ranting on and on about how I’d put something down and it’d ‘magically disappear’. It’s not like I wasn’t frustrated. And every time I mentioned it, all you did was laugh and say that I was ‘scatter-brained’ and ‘it would probably turn up eventually’.
You were toying with me. I could see it in the way you looked at me, that glimmer of possessiveness in your eye. I could feel it in the way you stalked me, like a predator circling prey, drawing ever closer but not willing to end the chase just yet. I wasn’t a person to you. I was a prize, a thing to be won.
Hell, at one point, you even had the audacity to mention that one of your hobbies was lock-picking.
You were so sure you were pulling one over on me. (Voice full of vitriol) It was disgusting.
(A pause for a few seconds)
I got a home alarm soon after that little chat. I’d been meaning to for months. But you mentioning that particular little detail made it apparent that I couldn’t put it off any longer. It was only a small thing. ‘All I could afford at the time. (Voice sounding defeated) It never worked.
Hell, I don’t think it even worked as a deterrent.
(Half-muttered to self) Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure my radio started acting on the fritz around the same time. ‘Thought that was probably only coincidence. I can’t blame you for everything that’s gone wrong in my life. Only most of it.
Knowing that started making me even more paranoid. Sometimes, I’d swear that I saw movement in the corner of my eye. Or heard footsteps down the hall. I would look around but never found anything. I wasn’t sleeping well, as you can imagine, so my first impulse was to blame that. Surely you wouldn’t be so brazen or stupid as to break in when you knew I would be home… would you?
That didn’t stop me from keeping 999 on speed dial though.
Sometimes, I’d even call you, just to keep account of where you were or what you were doing. Sometimes you picked up. Sometimes you didn’t. The times you didn’t scared me.
You loved it. I could hear the smug smile in your voice whenever I called you. Knowing that you got off to it, that you though I was weak and just that desperate for your company… It was humiliating.
If I couldn’t get through to you, I called my friends. I always made sure that I had at least one person on the line, at any point that I felt eyes burning into the back of my head. So that if anything ever happened to me, someone would know.
Even as some of them grew increasingly distant or stopped responding all together, I kept calling. If my old friends refused to pick up, I made new ones at work or online. Co-workers, patrons. Anyone that was practically chatty, really. It wasn’t the best solution and I’m pretty sure that my calls at three in the morning weren’t best appreciated but it was the best I could do.
I’ve always been good at saying what people want to hear.
As time went on, things started to slow until they just kinda… plateaued. I couldn’t find anything else. Sure you had a life online but nothing that I could use to incriminate you. Using open-source intelligence was proving painfully fruitless. Brute-forcing your credentials wasn’t working. At least you weren’t enough of a ‘lovesick’ fool to use my name as a password.
I even managed to find out your Wi-Fi password. Only for my moment of triumph to be crushed by finding out you used a VPN on all your devices. There was nothing Wireshark could do about that. I considered slamming my head into a wall, after that little discovery.
But beyond that, the constant dread became almost routine. When I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend it was like before. That I was just laughing and joking with my friend, rather than teasing a bear trap, hoping to God that it wouldn’t spring on me.
(Deep breath)
Of course, after I’d been talking, hanging out in public and following you for a while, I had a pretty good idea of your general schedule.
So, I decided to pay your home a visit while you were out.
Now, normally, I wouldn’t do anything so blatantly illegal. It’s a major risk to my credibility. But I was getting desperate… and off the clock, sooo…
(Sigh)
(More serious tone) Despite everything, I wanted to be proven wrong, you know. That I was just being paranoid. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Maybe you were just someone with a crush, who was visiting a friend or family member in my neighbourhood. Even though I knew none of them lived nearby.
Maybe I really was just an idiot losing their shit and you just had poor timing and some unfortunate hobbies.
Maybe you were just socially awkward and I was seeing things that weren’t there.
I got inside and the first thing that struck me was the smell. The place reeked of rot and cleaner, sharp and acrid, making my stomach churn.
I crept through the darkness, despite myself. I knew you weren’t home. I had watched you leave and had meticulously checked your schedule for hours beforehand. I know I should’ve turned on my torch sooner. But I couldn’t help it. It felt wrong, even when I was trampling paper underfoot. I strayed deeper and deeper into the darkness, until I found what I assumed would be your bedroom, if the single lit window at night was anything to go by.
Finally, I turned on my torch and…
(Horrified tone) The walls were covered in hundreds, upon hundreds of pictures of me. Some at my places of work, some while I was asleep, some from inside my own home.
I barely suppressed a wave of bile and a horse cry died in my suddenly-too-dry throat, giving way to a low moan of terror.
All I could do was stare, unable to tear my eyes away. Scanning over row after row after row of photographs.
(Incredulous laugh) I still don’t know how you took some of them. I pretty much always keep my curtains and blinds shut.
All those private little moments. Rereading an old favourite. Singing along to a shitty pop song on Heart with a little too much enthusiasm. Just taking a nice hot shower for a little longer than strictly necessary. Violated.
There was even a fucking shrine.
You had stolen so much. Including stuff that I hadn’t even noticed, despite actively being on-guard. Clothes, the contents of my bins, post that had never arrived… (Tone of revulsion) underwear… And that’s just stuff off the top of my head.
There were pieces of paper and notebooks everywhere. Some were filled with nothing but my name, over and over and over again. Others were filled with declarations of ‘love’. And some were filled with fantasies about what you’d do to me. Many of which were… violent.
I rifled through your drawers and found everything, ranging from ropes to what looked like possible roofies to copies of my work diary
I kept looking around. I couldn’t stop myself.
I thought this had been going on for a few months, outside. But I was wrong. This had been going on for years. I’d been watched for years and had never realised.
Eventually it reached a point that there were so many pictures and pages and papers that they almost became mundane. Almost.
I don’t know how long I wandered there. Minutes? Hours? It was like time itself understood the horror of what I’d found and stood still in shock. For such a moderately-sized home, the corridors were strangely endless. Like they wanted to entomb me. That’s obviously what their owner wanted.
Finally, on the ground floor, I saw the door to your cellar. It was white. Simple. Non-descript. And, yet, it felt… off. It was weirdly compelling. Like I needed to go down there. Like I needed to know what was down there.
The closer I drew, the more magnetic it became, emanating this strange ‘aura’, for lack of a better term.
Of course, I realised how stupid it was. Everyone knows that the idiot who wanders down into the murder basement in a horror movie doesn’t make it out alive.
But you were gone and I was already snooping, so what was a little more?
It was locked but only with a simple padlock. Nothing too difficult.
I picked it with little resistance and started to walk down the stairs. They were unlit. And kept going down and down and down, deeper and deeper. It felt far too deep for a normal basement. Like the earth itself was trying to swallow me whole.
When I reached the bottom, it was pitch-black, with only the torchlight to illuminate my surroundings, barely piercing the darkness.
The air was thick with dust and bleach. So much bleach it made my eyes water and my head spin.
Eventually, I managed to find the light switch. I pawed at it and a single, naked bulb spluttered into life, momentarily blinding me. When my sight finally cleared, I peered around the room now cast in a sickly-yellow hue.
It was… small. No, not small. Small is the wrong word. Cramped. Suffocating. The walls felt close and oppressive. The wall closest to me was covered in shelving, littered with various boxes, tools and general DIY stuff, like paints and solvents.
But that wasn’t what drew my eye.
No, what filled me with abject horror was on the other side of the room.
It was a cell, made up of floor to ceiling bars. Each black pillar easily as thick as my forearm. With just enough room to fit an arm through but nothing more. The door was open.
In front of it was an old, wooden table. It was worn but clearly still sturdy, with various objects scattered across it.
I drew closer. I wish I hadn’t.
On the table was a box and a few small black things. At first I thought they were wing nuts. But as I got closer and my eyes adjusted to the low light, I realised they were part of larger mechanisms. I picked up one of the strange objects to get a better look and something black flaked off in my hand. It was too course and gritty to be paint.
It took me a few moments to recognise it but as soon as I did I felt my stomach drop.
It was a thumbscrew. A fucking thumbscrew that had been used.
I put it back on the table and immediately tried to rub off the sensation of brittle rust. I rubbed and rubbed until my skin felt raw, a dull sting drowning it out.
I turned my attention back to the table. The box sat there, innocently.
I had to open it. I knew I did. I was in too deep now.
So, I watched, numb, as my hands reached towards it. As they unhooked the simple latch, the only thing keeping it closed. As they took out piece after piece of paper.
It felt like my mind was underwater and, for a moment, the only coherent thought that filtered through was that the paper felt weirdly tacky against my glove. Like photo paper.
I looked and, sure enough, that’s what they were. Each picture perfectly glossy without a single finger print in sight. Each A5 piece depicted a close up of single person looking straight at the camera, expression blank.
Something about them struck me as odd and, as I peered closer, I realised their hair was wrong. Instead of fully falling down, like hair normally does, it instead seemed to slightly splay out to the sides. Like the people being photographed were lying down at the time.
I looked closer and felt my blood turn to ice.
These weren’t normal pictures or selfies.
No, these were different.
The subjects’ eyes were cold and glassy. Unseeing.
They were the eyes of corpses.
The photos were… trophies. Each commemorating a different person.
And I realised I recognised some of them. Each having harassed me at some point in my life. At school, at my work… I wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ growing up. I attracted bullies like moths to flame. And you knew it.
I don’t know how long I stared at them before having the common-sense to flip one over.
There was writing on the back, something in red pen. It was completely illegible.
I flipped over another. The same. I flipped over a couple more until I found one that had something actually readable on the back: ‘They’re mine to ruin’.
I didn’t understand at the time, still don’t, but if I had to hazard a guess as to why, I’d say that this wasn’t some attempt to protect me or my honour. This wasn’t you ‘eliminating any possible competition’. It was because you were jealous. You were jealous that they got to hurt me first, instead of you. You wanted and still want to ‘ruin’ me. To tear me down, bit by bit.
I counted 8 total. Only 5 were official missing persons’ cases.
Once my hands stopped shaking, I put the photos back in the box and redirected my attention to the cell, the door still open, as if beckoning me. The shadows were thicker inside.
I turned on my torch and entered. The stench of bleach and ammonia was almost unbearable. And for a moment, I was inexplicably convinced that the door would swing shut, trapping me inside. It didn’t.
Instead, I was stuck by how cold it was and, looking up, I could see a small vent directly above me. I was so distracted that I didn’t look where I was going until – clunk.
My foot hit something thick and heavy, like metal.
I looked down and saw a long cast iron chain, snaking across the floor. What the fuck?
I followed it, torchlight tracing it back to its source at the wall. It connected just shy of head height, doing nothing but leading me to further puzzlement.
I traced it back to the other end.
And then I saw it. At the other end was a large hoop of wrought black metal, with a piece that seemed to swing on a hinge. I couldn’t be…
I picked it up. I had to be sure.
I examined it closer. It was.
It was a fucking collar.
I ran. I barely remembered to turn off the light and lock the door behind me, before I was running out of that house like a bat out of Hell.
I ran all the way home, buses or taxis be damned.
I won’t lie, the first thing I did when I got home was have a panic attack. I didn’t fully calm down for another two and a half hours.
I know because every tick of my watch grated against my ears, causing fresh waves of hysteria to wash over me. Eventually, I ended up lobbing the damn thing across the room. It didn’t break. It was damaged, sure, but it still worked. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to cope if it had.
I didn’t sleep that night.
The next day, I called in to give an anonymous tip that you were potentially in possession of narcotics. It’s not like I could say: ‘Hey! I broke into this creep’s home and the walls were plastered with pictures of my face! I wasn’t trying to steal anything! Promise!’
I just had been so… dumbstruck… that I had forgotten to record, to take photos, to steal proof. To do anything. I’d found a goldmine of evidence. And yet, I’d squandered it completely.
I beat myself up for weeks, afterwards.
I couldn’t bring myself to go back though… not for a good few months.
You were never charged. To be honest, I don’t think they even searched your house. And I’m sure that had nothing to do with your finances. Or the fact that one of your close friends from university was on the local police force.
It didn’t matter anyway.
When I eventually did manage to force myself to go back, I took hundreds of photos, hours of video footage, documenting everything and sent them to the police via an anonymous email account.
Nothing.
I kept my ear to the ground for weeks and there was nothing. Just… dead silence. It was like I had never bothered in the first place.
I would say more on the matter but there’s really nothing else to say.
I sent more emails, all including detailed accounts of my experiences, photos, videos, everything that could be used to detain you. And nothing.
Not even a scolding for breaking and entering.
I didn’t know how you did it. Didn’t care, frankly. But I knew that it was your fault.
With every email, with nothing to show for it, I felt myself losing more and more hope.
Eventually, I just… stopped sending them. I felt entirely hopeless and alone. No-one was coming to save me. I wanted to give up.
You hadn’t hurt me. Maybe you wouldn’t. That’s what I tried to tell myself, at least. I knew I was lying. That cell was more than enough proof.
(Thoughtful tone) But then I had a thought… If no-one was coming to help then I was going to have to resolve things myself. My own way.
(Determined tone) And I’d make you pay when I did.
(A pause)
I don’t think I’d ever felt rage like that, before that day. Such visceral hatred. It felt so strange and horrible and weirdly violating. I felt dirty. And I hated it. But it wouldn’t stop. No amount of guilt would drown it out.
And I started to wonder what it would feel like to wrap my hands around your neck… and just squeeze.
(A pause)
Something changed in me that day. Permanently.
(Deep inhale and exhale)
So, I started to plan. I went back to that wretched house and took everything I needed. Called in a few favours with a couple old friends. Pulled more shifts at the café. Covered more cases. Cheating spouses, mostly. Not exactly the most riveting stuff. There are only so many telenovelas you can watch before they all blend together. But the important thing is that I saved like Hell. And I watched. And I waited. And I listened.
Drawing you in, closer and closer. But not like before. That was like trying to lure a stray mutt into a kennel. This was like luring a wolf into a slaughterhouse.
And after months of preparation and casual hangouts, I finally decided to bite the bullet and invite you over.
And here we are. With you right where I want you.
It wasn’t fun using myself as live bait. But, hey! You can’t deny it worked.
Besides, it’s not like you were thinking any differently. You thought this was your chance, didn’t you? You though ‘Finally, I’m alone with them. Nothing can go wrong.’
I knew full well what you were planning on doing to me. Do you really think I spilled my tea by accident? That I would be stupid enough to invite you into my home, without some kind of plan?
No.
We both had the same idea. After all, great minds think alike. But this is a monster eat monster world. And I was the hungrier monster.
Because this isn’t what good people do or even just what normal people do. This is what monsters do. You made me a monster.
(Introspective tone) … And I’m not as repulsed by that idea as I should be.
After all, it takes a monster to hurt a monster.
I wouldn’t say I’m worse, though. You know, considering (whispered in listener’s ear) I’m not a sick fuck like you.
I’m pretty sure anything I’ve done pales in comparison to the shit you’ve pulled.
Had things gone your way, you had some real twisted shit in store for me. The kind of shit that, once you know, you can’t unknow.
… I can’t even bring myself to say half of it.
And that’s exactly why I’m keeping you here. I follow the personal philosophy of: an eye for an eye. You fuck over me, I fuck over you. I think that’s fair.
Karma’s a bitch, huh?
(To be continued in Part 2 because Reddit was being a bitch)