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2017.04.08 02:52 costwaysz Cost less all the way for Online Shopping Deals
Free shipping easy return online shop. Order cheap home garden furniture, hardware vehicle tools with premium quality and blowout price.
2010.12.27 20:42 permaculturemedia We cultivate land where we're not supposed to.
Guerrilla gardening is gardening on another person's land without permission, making your city more beautiful to live in. We cultivate land, where we're not supposed to.
2013.05.26 16:08 FozzTexx Retro Battlestations
Show off your old-school computer rig! Dig out your retro computers and set them up, or dig out your vintage photos from when your computer was new!
2023.06.04 10:20 Jumpy-Meeting-2555 Moscow resident built an illegal private summer home on the roof of an apartment block, complete with miniature garden. And he almost got away with it
2023.06.04 10:04 gm310509 Monthly digest for 2023-05
arduino Monthly digest for 2023-05
During the course of this month we received our first wiki contribution from one of our members. u/Bitwise_Gamgee
has contribute a guide that explains the difference between delay() and millis() and some use cases for both.
Have a look at our latest wiki guide A better delay using millis
supplied by u/Bitwise_Gamgee
After checking out that page, you might want to browse some of our other wiki resources including:
If you are new, or want to provide guidance to new users who are unaware of how to properly create "please help me" style posts, you might want to refer them to any (or all) of these "how to post" guides.
You can always access the Wiki (and these digests) by selecting the Wiki or Monthly Digest menu items situated at the top of the Arduino
Don't forget to check out our wiki
for up to date guides, FAQ, milestones, glossary and more.
You can find our wiki
at the top of the Arduino
posts feed and in our "tools/reference" sidebar panel. The sidebar also has a selection of links to additional useful information and tools.
Look what I made posts
Total: 65 posts
Summary of Post types:
|Flair ||Count |
|Algorithms ||2 |
|Beginner's Project ||36 |
|ChatGPT ||7 |
|Fourth is strong in this one ||1 |
|Games ||1 |
|Hardware Help ||1 |
|Hardware Help I2S ||1 |
|Hardware Help Soldering ||1 |
|Hardware Help! ||3 |
|Hardware Help, maybe Software Help ||1 |
|Hardware/Software Help ||2 |
|Help ||1 |
|Libraries ||4 |
|Look what I found! ||4 |
|Look what I made! ||65 |
|Look what I'm going to make! ||1 |
|Mega ||3 |
|Mod's Choice! ||7 |
|Nano ||4 |
|Pipeline Diagnostics and Inspection w/ mmWave ||1 |
|Potentially Dangerous Project ||2 |
|Pro Micro ||1 |
|Project of the Month Entry ||2 |
|School Project ||1 |
|School Project (Geocaching Puzzle Box ) ||1 |
|School Project Help ||1 |
|Software Help ||1 |
|Software Help (Mega/Due) ||0 |
|Software Help (Mega/Due) [Solved] ||1 |
|Software Help for Uno ||1 |
|Software Help, Arduino DUE timers ||1 |
|Solved ||20 |
|Uno ||14 |
|Wire Help ||1 |
|You choose! ||1 |
|beginner help ||1 |
|help ||1 |
|no flair ||436 |
|schematic ||1 |
Total: 1020 posts in 2023-05
submitted by gm310509
to arduino [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 10:00 CreamingSleeve I do all the housework and I hate it.
I’m so sick of doing all of the housework.
I’ve lived with my boyfriend, now husband, for over 3 years and his lack of being able to complete basic chores has been an issue and source of arguing since the entire time we’ve shared a house.
This is bullshit. I grew up with a SAHM who was did nothing but complain about cooking/cleaning/gardening/grocery shopping/household management while my dad did very little to help. They love each other, but she clearly felt used and like she was in a never ending cycle of work whilst my dad could at least get home and relax.
I never wanted that for me. I worked hard in school and uni, I got a good job, then I went and messed it up by falling for my best friend who it turns out is incredibly lazy. It’s unfair. We both work full time, we both contribute 50/50 to the mortgage and savings, and yet I’m stuck with 95% of household chores and management.
I don’t get any break. I get home from work, I cook while he lounges/plays guitaworks out, we eat, I do dishes, we go to bed. On the weekends I vacuum and clean and garden. It feels unfair. I’m not a SAHM. I work a hard, emotionally draining job that involves a lot of overtime, being exposed to dangerous situations/people and being verbally abused often. I have no time for self care to ward off burnout because all of my spare time on weekdays is dedicated to housework.
I have tried a chore list/chart, I’ve tried talking to him, he doesn’t get it. He procrastinates any task I ask of him. Example: he broke a door 8 months ago and despite weekly reminding he still hasn’t fixed it. My dad came over yesterday to do it. The light in our living room and bedroom went out around 3 months ago and he changed the bulb 3 days ago after I called my brother to do it (I’m 7 months pregnant and not keen on ladders right now).
My husband is currently mad at me because I asked him to do last nights dishes. He’s supposed to cook and do dishes on weekends because he says it’s too much for him after work. I cooked last night and tonight because we need to save money and he always orders takeout. All he had to do was last nights dishes, but at 4pm I finished cleaning the bathroom and and I emerge to find that he’s still playing guitar and watching tv. I told him to do the dishes, that I am sick of asking him to do chores, that he should do them unprompted before doing his leisure stuff. And he’s mad because I didn’t ask nicer.
I am sick of being his mothesupervisor of chores! I am sick of asking. He says I should ask for help when I need it. It’s not help, though! It’s his set of chores! Why am I stuck with the bulk of the housework when I work and pay just as much as him?!
I feel like I’ve failed. I’m having a daughter in 3 months and i wanted to set a good example for her. I wanted her to grow up thinking that we live in a world of equality, with a mum who works and parents who split chores evenly. I didn’t want her growing up with this 1950s housewife mentality like previous generations did. But that mentality is so heavily ingrained in society, I’ll never escape it and neither will my child. At least in the 50s women weren’t expected to work. Now we have to work AND be housewives.
This is flat out bullshit.
submitted by CreamingSleeve
to Vent [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 09:27 AquilaWolfe My world Niafel is done! Try to stump me with some questions about the setting!
My WorldsWithoutNumber Iterum(read:dimension) Niafel is finished! At least for the most part. I could eventually add more continents and expand the map if I wanted to, but for now I'm quite happy with it. I'd love to field some questions about the setting to help me fill in any gaps and inspire others.
To start, it has 8 "nations".
Estaria is to the far left, in the snow and rocky steppes. Its society is a series of travelling clans ruled by demigods who each have a particular field of expertise.
Below it in the dark green alien forest is the people of Waen-Sca. They were created by aliens to be a subservient warrior race, but became free willed when their masters disappeared.
To the right of them we have Jagran, the city within the mountains. Its society is hyper capitalist, with its citizens split into a tiered caste system based on wealth.
Below Jagran is "The Forest". A massive jungle that some say was created by a God as a refuge for those who refuse to be ruled.
Above Jagran is Theria. A decaying nation/roman empire analogue that struggles for relevance and is frequently fighting enemies from multiple directions.
On the far right continent we have Sindria on top. Its society is also broken into clans, but has a unified government and permanent towns. Its partially inspired by feudal Japan.
Below that we have Thea-Shar, the remnants of a destroyed empire, trying to rebuild, that used to exist in the southern desert, but were forced to leave their home when a battle between a monstrous creature and a demigod turned their capital and the surrounding area into a radioactive wasteland. A wasteland that is now home to many twisted monsters.
Niafel and most everything in it is my creation, however some of the monsters and concepts within the setting are property of Kevin Crawford and come from the book Worlds Without Number, which is a fantastic system. Please take a look at his work. When answering any questions, I will clarify if something is Crawfords' property instead of mine. The map has some odd color lines where I had to stitch it together and was unable to smooth the colors out naturally. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
submitted by AquilaWolfe
to worldbuilding [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 09:23 jwd20 Confused about potential mortgage affordability
I'm looking to purchase a property with my partner, we're looking for a home to start a family and have a bit of a space + garden which realistically will be 350-400k in the areas we're looking at. I earn 68K (closer to 75 with bonuses) and she earns 43k closer to 46 with overtime etc. Bringing our affordability according to online checks to properties around 500k. We're not sure what we can afford however due to our circumstances, I currently own my flat outright that I purchased in 2019 for 165K, she is a first time buyer. Shortly after purchasing my flat the laws around cladding changed in 2020 meaning my flat went from being compliant to needing significant remediation. My landlord has been in quite a few papers recently about not remediating the thousands of properties they own but realistically we can't see this flat being in a position to be sold for years as the legal battles begin.
This means realistically we're forced into purchasing this new property as a second home, we understand the stamp duty implications and are budgeting the extra 20-30k in tax this will require on top of our deposit. I'm sure already having a property will impact my affordability, but we're not sure how much, if we'll need a much larger deposit than the 10% we have for example. We'll be looking to rent the flat out when we move which should bring in at least 1000 a month but after taxes and service charges (200 a month) I think it'll be closer to 400 income, I don't think this would make a difference to our affordability however as it's not guaranteed income.
Is it really as simple as the online checks, it's basically my only mortgage, I'll have the service charge, ground rent etc as fixed outgoings but that's about it for the impact on affordability? Honestly we're just feeling very stuck in this situation and we're trying to see how much we'd need to save to move on with our lives.
submitted by jwd20
to UKPersonalFinance [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 09:22 Western_Enthusiasm71 STOP TOLERATING IT!
Now, my situation isn't the best, but neither me nor DH are working right now. It is what it is, and we're dealing with it. However, we have split everything. He does all the cleaning, all the cooking and is also clearing out and relaying our entire back garden. I do all childcare, shopping and bills. We help each other when we can, but this is where our strengths lie and we make it work. What I'm trying to say is, stop letting your men get away with the bare minimum! I go shopping, he puts it away so I can sit down after being out with at least 1 child. He pops back every hour on days we're hanging at home and gives me a bit of a break from the kids. He puts in so much effort, and it breaks my heart seeing all you mamma's just raising an extra large child on top of your little ones. Our relationship isn't perfect, we're both still very stressed with everything. But we're capable of working as a team, and I want the same for all of you ❤️
submitted by Western_Enthusiasm71
to breakingmom [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 09:20 ironic3500 How to get rid of creeping jenny?
It's taken over my garden. The former home owner planted it as a groundcover but it grows so fast and has drowned out some other flowers from getting light. I pulled out a lot and mulched it over to hide the light, but its still coming through. I also dont want the mulch to prevent other seasonal flowers. It is June and I'm in the northern hemisphere (UK). Any advice?
submitted by ironic3500
to gardening [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 09:00 starhouseestofficial Preserving Summer's Bounty: Exploring the Benefits of Canned Tomatoes.
Summer brings with it an abundance of fresh produce, including ripe and juicy tomatoes. These vibrant fruits not only add flavor to our meals but also offer numerous health benefits. However, as the summer season comes to an end, it's essential to find ways to preserve the bountiful harvest. One popular method is canning tomatoes, which allows us to enjoy their goodness all year round. In this article, we will delve into the benefits of canned tomatoes and explore why they deserve a place in your pantry. So let's dive in and discover the wonders of preserving summer's bounty!
The Art of Canning:
Canning is a traditional method of preserving food that involves sealing fruits or vegetables in airtight containers, such as jars, to prevent spoilage. This process not only extends the shelf life of the produce but also locks in their nutritional value. When it comes to tomatoes, canning helps retain their essential vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants.
Nutritional Value of Canned Tomatoes:
Contrary to popular belief, canned tomatoes can be just as nutritious as fresh ones. In fact, certain nutrients are even more bioavailable in canned form. Tomatoes are a rich source of lycopene, a powerful antioxidant known for its potential health benefits, including reducing the risk of certain cancers and heart disease. The canning process breaks down the tomato's cell walls, making lycopene more easily absorbed by the body.
Convenience and Versatility:
One of the significant advantages of Canned tomatoes
is their convenience. Having a well-stocked pantry with canned tomatoes allows you to whip up delicious meals with minimal effort. From classic pasta sauces and hearty stews to vibrant salsas and flavorful curries, the possibilities are endless. Canned tomatoes provide a quick and easy way to add depth and flavor to your culinary creations.
Fresh tomatoes have a short growing season, making them a seasonal delight. However, by canning tomatoes at their peak ripeness, you can enjoy their flavors throughout the year. Canned tomatoes offer a taste of summer even during the coldest months, allowing you to savor the essence of sun-ripened tomatoes in every dish.
Canned tomatoes offer an economical solution for those looking to save money without compromising on taste and quality. Buying fresh tomatoes off-season can be costly, whereas canned tomatoes are often more affordable and readily available. By opting for canned tomatoes, you can stretch your budget while still enjoying the benefits of this versatile ingredient.
Sustainability and Reduced Food Waste:
Preserving summer's bounty through canning is an eco-friendly choice that promotes sustainability and reduces food waste. By canning tomatoes, you can make the most of surplus produce, reducing the likelihood of it going to waste. Additionally, Canned tomatoes
require less energy and resources for transportation and storage compared to their fresh counterparts, making them a greener option.
When canning tomatoes at home, you have full control over the quality and ingredients used. You can choose to can organic tomatoes or those from your own garden, ensuring that you have the freshest and most flavorful base for your dishes. By canning your tomatoes, you eliminate concerns about preservatives or additives that may be present in store-bought canned goods.
Health Benefits of Cooked Tomatoes:
Cooking tomatoes, whether fresh or canned, enhances their nutritional value. Heat breaks down the tomato's cell walls, making the beneficial compounds more accessible. This process boosts the release of lycopene and other antioxidants, leading to increased health benefits.
submitted by starhouseestofficial
to u/starhouseestofficial [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 08:52 subtlehalibut Convoy Settled in to Louisville
2023.06.04 08:49 RareGeometry Anyone else feel like you just don't know how to have fun/be fun?
I was just brushing my teeth before bed with the window open and overheard my next door and 2 doors down neighbors laughing and chatting on one of their decks.
Though I am friendly with both of them, and they both talk about having me over for these summer night deck visits all the time, they virtually never invite me. I've been invited maybe 4 times total in the 3 years living here.
Of course I understand they have a few more years of friendship but the one considers me her closest friend in our town. She shares her hard times and heavier stuff with me, but we don't really... do fun stuff
This has been a theme all my life. I've never been the fun one and I'm never invited to things because "I didn't think you'd want to come" "I didn't think it was your thing" "I didn't think your mom would let you" etc. .
My nmom was a bit more lax when I was really young, while my dad was alive. But once he passed (I was nearly 9) she tightened up a lot and nobody was around to temper her so she came down full force on me.
Besides the lack of social and relationship skills learning from an nparent, I feel like fun, being boisterous, being unfiltered, letting loose, whatever other phrases you could add, was sucked and taught out of me and my life experience.
I always had to look, act, talk a certain way because my nmom always told me it reflected on her. I was kept under a tight lead of "immediate obedience." I was absolutely allowed to roam nature and do quiet, solo things but not encouraged to, well, have fun and be myself and cut loose. Everything had to be calculated for some level if my nmom's reactivity or judgement. I was taught a lot about how to present this or that way and how certain behaviors were unruly and unbecoming. Also very strict about clothing.
I never went through a drinking, partying, experimental phase because I wasn't allowed. Even when I lived away from home my nmom found ways to torment me and keep a tight rein. It wasn't until I started my career and lived on my own I had some more freedoms but by then...I didn't know how and I was even sort of afraid of some of it? Not that I needed to go on some kind of spiraling bender walk of shame kind of event. But like, I just have this personality now where people continue to not invite me for hangouts and concerts and socializing, "fun" sorts of events. I get invited to go plant shopping, event attire shopping, helping plan things, occasionally thrifting but usually looking for a specific need like interview attire or mouse furnishings or corningware or something lol. Or I get asked to help with things, like not I'm having a barbecue wanna come over? More like, I'm having a barbecue and I need help with xyz can you do that?
I very much get treated like peoples moms.
I hear stories from wild adventures on camping trips and stuff from my husband and his mom/family and I absolutely cannot relate. Nada. We never drank on camping trips, it was never a group event, it was just my mom and I or my dad, mom, and I, sometimes my much older brother, and we did super quiet stuff and left no trace. My parents were/are supper hippie, survivalist, nature folks like that. Which of course has its place.
I just lie here in the dark in bed and hear the laughter and sharing stories and drinks and snacks and happiness and feel like I don't know how to have and be that and hope so much that my kids are more exciting but fear that my quiet background involvement will make them like me. Tomorrow or another day, while talking over the fence or out at the garden centre together, I'll hear about that time the neighbors got tipsy and did this or that or shared some story or experience and...I'm always just peripheral.
submitted by RareGeometry
to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 08:49 leiathegreenmile Lowe's Home and Garden Coupons
Visit this page for Lowe's Home and Garden Coupons
. The website offers a wide selection of coupons, promo codes, and discount deals that are updated regularly, just visit the website to find the perfect one for you.
submitted by leiathegreenmile
to IvoryOffers [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 08:41 WTXRed June B.A.G.E.L.
submitted by WTXRed
to Lubbock [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 08:35 InkDiamond [PI] They’d scrounged up what little they had, but neither knew what to do next. They had never been in a situation like this before—never attended such an event. What the Archives called: a par-ty
Marc gave it another go. He tipped his hand forward. The silver patty rolled off him, dropping toward the cave floor.
It stopped short of hitting the path. The shiny disc halted in the air, dangling at the end of a thin white line.
He watched the small wheel spin. It might have been the most fun he’d had all year. Even more fun than that mud puddle he’d found the other day. How does it keep going?
Marc thought to himself. And without any power??
Marc assumed the disc was some sort of technological marvel from the past. But the Archives had little information on it, only a name. It was called a “yo-yo.” They all must have had one of these,
As Marc walked down the stone ramp, he cast the yo-yo again. The toy’s quiet spin was the only sound in the cavern. The soft hiss of string versus metal reverberated gently in the spacious cave.
Marc focused all his attention on the little gadget. He was determined to enjoy every last minute of the universe, no matter what. And that evening, the yo-yo more than accomplished that goal.
The shimmering yo-yo, however, couldn’t prevent the world around him from crumbling. The ground started to rumble. The rest of the cave shook with it. The underground city shook as the plasma storm above battered it—and the rest of the planet.
Marc’s home broke down. Cracks appeared in the ceiling. Waterfalls of dust poured out of them. It wouldn't be long before the whole thing collapsed. That is, if the plasma storm didn’t swallow it whole first. Whatever.
A few clumps of dirt wouldn’t ruin Marc’s fun. He pulled the hood of his shawl over his head and extended his ragged sleeves toward each hand. His clothes shielded him from the falling dust; the gritty particles made themselves at home on his messy shawl. And Marc was free to perfect his newest trick.
The rumbling died down though as Marc descended the ramp. The yo-yo string didn’t wobble so much, and he didn't have to watch his steps as carefully. He just hoped the quaking wouldn’t come back to ruin his event.
Speaking of which, Marc glanced ahead toward his destination below. What he saw rocked him even harder than the earthquake had. What in the sinkpits…?
Marc stopped in his tracks. He even started to reach for his knife. All because he’d detected a speck of something suspicious. Something he didn't see much of every day: color.
Showy landmarks weren’t something endemic to his home. The Outpost was more of a dusty gray-and-brown sort of place. The walls were sandstone. The floor was sandstone. And the ceiling? …Granite?
No, sandstone. All under the faint glow of a string of depressed lightbulbs.
The intriguing blip in the gray-and-tan collage was farther up the path. Ahead of the ramp, on Level 8, Marc saw the same three steel doors he was used to seeing. The front doors of underground homes, lined up in a row, each closed into the cave wall.
However, there was something different
about the third door. It looked… alive. Like it didn’t belong in a dreary place like the Outpost. But it was too far away to tell what exactly had been done to it.
Marc squinted at it suspiciously. The third door happened to be his destination. And now it was weird.
He considered waiting and observing the mutated door. A child of the Outpost, Marc had developed a healthy fear of the unusual.
These habits, along with his instincts, kept him safe. They’d specifically preserved him
while the rest of humanity perished.
But he shrugged off the instinct to wait. Something new and “different” was ahead, and he wanted to see it.
But just as a precaution, it was time for his yo-yo’s last trick. He got in one final throw then placed the toy into his satchel. He dropped it on top of his arsenal of cables, wrenches, and screwdrivers.
And by the time he’d snapped the satchel shut, the long ramp had bottomed out. He’d made it to the next level.
To his left, the wall had been spray-painted. Scrawled-out black letters stood against the sandy background. They stated, “Now Level 8.
Marc followed the sign. He stayed close to the wall, crossing to the stone pedestrian path. He passed one untouched steel door with a dusted-over mail slot in the wall beside it. Then he passed a second home—abandoned like the first. And finally, he arrived at his friend’s place and the mysterious blip on Level 8.
To his surprise, the steel door elicited a flush of emotion. His heart floated upward. And the portrait before him drew his focus in like an otherworldly beacon. How did it get so…?
Marc pulled back his hood. The ground popped with the sandy grains he released.
He could hardly believe the difference. The door used to blend in with the others: another ridged steel face that spent most of its time rusting or collecting dirt.
But it was no longer muffled by the dust and dirt that had built up over the years.
Today, it sung. Paint streaks flew across its visage. They swirled and spiraled, forming stars and other shapes. Where previously gray and rust dominated, colors sprang forth—colors that Marc didn't even have the names for. They were many, and they were warm,
like the evening sky just after sunset. Marc could hardly wrap his head around the entire image.
He swelled with gratitude. Only
you could have pulled this off.
He thought of his friend, the painter. The one person in the colony who’d ever been any fun. The one other person in the colony who was left…
The artist had done the unthinkable. Foraging the garden below for something other
than food. Spending work time measuring and concocting the perfect blends of paint. And then slathering their fingers across the giant door, until its old face was but a memory. And all that effort for only a single other person
Newly inspired, Marc searched for an unpainted space on the metal canvas. He found one and knocked on the door.
He took a step back and waited. The outside of the Outpost was lively. Excited wind rushed through the canyon.
By contrast, the Outpost itself was silent. If there was anyone left to say anything, they may have even called it “dead.”
Or nearly dead, anyway. The last morsel of it came to life as the door in front of Marc groaned.
It floated off the ground, inching upward. On the other side, Marc could hear a hand crank clicking away. Ktch… ktch… ktch… ktch…
The corrugated door lifted, and the door rolled up. The tip of the artist’s painting started to slip from view. Ktch… ktch… ktch… ktch…
Behind the door, chains reeled at a slow clip. The heavy curtain was halfway up. Marc could now see his best friend's lower half. Buff Lenorkian legs pumped back and forth with each crank.
The door unveiled even more of the owner. A torso in a metal suit appeared. Four ripped arms stretched out of it. They rotated, moving to the clicking beats of the door. Ktch… ktch… ktch… ktch…
The door raised a few inches further, uncovering the bottom half of a cobalt blue face. Two rows of razor-sharp teeth smiled from ear to ear. A few inches more, and Marc could see the whole of the Lenorkian’s face.
Sid greeted Marc as the last of the door raised.
” he said.
Marc didn’t get a chance to respond. His body lurched forward involuntarily. He slammed into Sid’s metal suit. Crrrrrick!
The armor squealed as Sid’s upper two arms squeezed him tighter. The lower set of arms had reeled Marc in.
hugs. Stupid mushy emotional wraparounds. But just this one final time, Marc returned the gesture. He squeezed Sid back.
“Happy Worlds’ End!” Sid said from the other side of the embrace.
“Yeah,” Marc replied, “Happy Worlds’ End.”
The two separated.
“Cool painting, by the way,” Marc said. He pointed at the rolled-up door. “I didn’t think you’d top the one in the garden.”
“You think so?” Sid sheepishly smiled. “Well I’ve had more time to practice since… you know.”
“Yeah, I get it,” Marc said. “Me too. That’s how I actually got you
Marc swung his heavy satchel around. He rifled through it, squeezing through cables, knocking handles and parts out of the way. And then—ah.
He fished out a crumpled rag. Holding it in one hand, he began to gently unfold it.
“I found this a few days ago in the garden,” he said. The edges of the cloth fell. They revealed a small, glass object. It sparkled.
Marc continued, “I think it fits your style—I mean, I know it’s a little smudged and chipped but...”
He swirled the crystal trinket around. The cavern’s incandescent light flittered across its clear edges.
He touched it too, tracing the slender portion of it with his thumb. It was the neck of the crystal swan.
“It’s yours,” Marc said, offering up the bird.
Sid cupped two shovel-sized hands and accepted the gift.
“It’s beautiful…” he said, examining it. “I can’t believe anything like this could have survived this long.” He looked up at Marc and smiled, “Thank you so much. I just wish I had a little longer to could enjoy it.”
They chuckled lightly about their impending obliteration.
“Well, come on in,” Sid said. He extended both of his left arms. They gestured toward the cave interior. “We’ll finish off this universe how it started,” he said. He mashed his upper two fists together. “With a bang!”
“I hear that!” Marc nodded. He crossed over into Sid’s house.
As Marc passed Sid, a wave of discomfort hit him. Sid had switched out his usual t-shirt and jeans. He wore old armor instead. And the metal plating taunted Marc.
Marc’s next question came out more accusatory than curious.
“So… a Lenorkian throwback, huh?” he asked Sid.
Sid had just finished finding the perfect home for his swan. He left it on a shelf next to the front door.
He turned to face Marc. He hid his embarrassment behind a jagged smile.
“Oh!” he said. “Uhhh…” Three of Sid’s arms disappeared behind his back. The cone-shaped cuffs at the end of each wrist clanked against the back of his chest armor. The fourth arm nervously scratched his blue head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It's stupid, I guess. I can take it off… if you want.”
Marc didn’t want to address the topic head-on. He stopped in the cave’s entry. He pretended to admire the walls—as if he’d never seen sandstone before.
“No, leave it on,” he said. “You look… like a true Lenorkian.” He turn around and forced a smile.
It wasn’t enough.
“Okay, let’s get this out of the way,” Sid said. He marched up to Marc.
Sid took a deep breath before he spoke.
“Tonight's really important to me,” he continued. “This is the last impression anyone’s
going to make on the universe. So I need you on board.” He continued staring down at Marc. “Can you do that? For me?”
Marc didn’t see what the big deal was. It was just a couple of best friends hanging out.
“Yeah, why not?” he shrugged. “End it the way it started.”
The exchange turned into awkward silence. Neither knew what to do next. They had never been in a situation like this before—never attended such an event. What the Archives called: a par-ty.
Sid shook off the figurative mask he’d been wearing—one that was uncharacteristically dour. His eyes lightened, and he bobbed his head knowingly.
“I went through the Archives to see how this works,” he said. He walked toward the long horizontal counter against the wall—the kitchen.
On the counter, chaos ran wild. Bowls and kitchenware spread across the surface. And the insides of his pots and pans resembled the dirty mouth of a garbage chute.
Marc wasn’t sure what to think. Was cleaning the host’s kitchen a staple of ancient parties?
Sid too seemed a bit confused. His next words came out robotically, as if he was practicing a new word he’d learned.
’” Sid asked. He stood nervously in front of the counter.
Looking closer at it, three unusual objects stood apart from the kitchenware mess. It took Marc a while to remember what their outdated, bendy material was called. Plastic
. Three pink
cups sat equidistant from one another.
“I got these from here,” Sid reached under the counter and pulled up some sort of transparent bag. Pink cups just liked the others were stacked on top of each other inside.
Sid packed the bag back under the counter.
“So?” he asked after he finished. He held all four hands together in anticipation. His smile may have looked like an industrial-grade rock shredder, but it was hard to resist his innocent blue face and big wide eyes.
Marc eyed the pink cups one last time.
“This better not kill me,” he said.
Sid wasted no time. He excitedly grabbed a cup and walked over to a large pot sitting on the counter.
Using a nearby ladle, he plunged into the vat. An unappetizing sloshing sound resulted. And Sid, as strong as he was, seemed to struggle with scooping out some of the mystery liquid. But in the end, he pulled back the ladle and unloaded an opaque, muddy liquid into the cup.
“It's a homeworld classic called fludge,” Sid said as he finished pouring.
He treaded over to his reluctant friend and handed off the plastic cup.
“Did you say ‘fludge’?” Marc asked. He swished the cup around cautiously. The earthy liquid hardly budged.
“Yeah, fludge! Us Lenorkians invented it. It’s kind of the only tasty thing we ever bothered to make.”
Marc sniffed it. It smelled… burnt? Maybe a little dusty, too? But he could have just been smelling the cave.
Sid left Marc alone with Marc’s questionable new assignment. He returned to the pot to pour himself a drink.
“Just try it!” he said.
Marc looked down again at the dark soup. It could kill him. Or maybe it wouldn't.
Either way, it was his last drink.
He took a timid sip and waited to be repulsed. The fludge trickled to the back of his tongue. As it hit, Marc’s eyes widened. But not with regret.
“Now wait a minute…” he said. He smacked his lips together. Then he took another, larger sip.
This curious dark liquid had a unique taste to it. The taste was earthen—but unoffending. It also had a subtle undercurrent of sweetness to it, combined with a spicy kick. It was delicious.
“This might be the best drink in the entire Outpost!” Marc exclaimed.
Pure joy bloomed on Sid’s face. “See! I told you: the greatest thing we ever made.”
He held his own cup above his open jaws. The falling fludge was no match for the alien. He guzzled it down, licked his lips, and then went back for more.
As Sid fashioned himself another drink, Marc noticed something a tad
unsettling. A third pink cup stared back at him. It prompted an uncomfortable thought, but he shoved the thought back down.
The Lenorkian carried back his second drink. Though this time, he took it in small, human-sized sips.
But he quickly reanimated. In the middle of a sip, Sid got a wild look in his eyes. His irises turned from their natural violet to scarlet. He yanked the cup from his face and swallowed.
“Argh, how did I forget?” he said. “I got music!”
Marc cut his sip short too. “No way. You got music?
“I think so!”
Sid did an about face. He slammed the half-empty cup on the counter. Then he shuffled toward a giant metal column protruding from the far wall. Four ink-blue hands wrapped around the cover of the vent. And he went for it.
Sid struggled to pull off the cover of the vent at first. His armor ballooned around his biceps as his muscles bulged outward. Yet the cover wouldn't budge.
But it seemed like an important part of his evening plans. He scolded the stubborn vent, banging on its top.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it now!” he said. He latched onto the vent again.
This time, he put even more effort in. To the point where Marc sensed that Sid was losing a grip on his own body. Out of his forehead, two thumb-sized cones began to rise. His breathing turned low and raspy. And his whole body seemed to expand as he repositioned himself for leverage. Then with one final pull, like a wild beast, he let out of a deep, guttural roar.
” The roar echoed off the cave walls.
And with that, the stubborn vent cover finally popped off. A breath of wind pulsed through the room as the air pressure equalized itself.
But the wind wasn’t finished. After the initial pulse exited, a mighty gust picked up where the original pulse left off. The vent shot more wind into the room, but rapidly, like a storm. Tiny coarse particles rattled inside the duct. And in the room, a rush of wind whipped past Marc’s face. He felt little nips across his exposed skin as it passed him.
Both partiers shielded their faces from the most direct blasts of air. Sid smiled nervously as he looked to Marc. He raised his voice over the whining airstream.
“It’s from the sandplains above!” he said in an elevated voice. “I thought we’d use the sandstorm for music! Do you like it?”
Music… Marc wasn’t exactly an expert. Even though humans were said to be naturals at it, not much on the subject had made it into the Archives. The Outpost didn’t have much of it either. The closest he got was the occasional chant, stray birds twittering about, or maybe someone banging on rocks.
But Marc did know one thing on the subject. Where there was music, there was dancing.
That said, he had never danced before either. But a long time ago, his parents told him it was something all
humans could do. It was something they carried in their blood. Once humans found a pattern in music, they could match it to their body language. And once they’d synced melody and movement, they could ride that wave to a whole new experience. Might as well give it a shot,
he thought. Marc too put his cup on the counter.
With his hands free, Marc backed up toward the middle of the room. He closed his eyes, felt the wind. It filled his ears with its gusty energy. It hit him in pumps as the storm raged above.
Though not totally predictable, the wind did hit him consistently. There was some sort of kinetic pattern
Yes, a pattern
Well actually, he’d heard it called by another name. What was that word his mother had used? He opened his eyes when he remembered: rhythm.
Marc stretched out his arms. He relaxed his hips. He felt the wind’s whips and waves across his arms. He let his arms follow them, swaying with the current. Not long after, his hips joined in. They too gyrated, trying to match the energetic gusts. He kept at it. And the first time Marc felt both himself and the wind moving together, he grinned.
“This is amazing!” he said. Around them, the wind crooned.
Sid was entranced. He nodded back while staring at Marc’s strange movements. He’d never really seen dancing either. But he figured he would give it a shot too. He loosened up his arms and walked onto the dance floor with Marc.
Before dancing himself, he studied Marc first. He watched how the scavenger moved his arms—and when
the scavenger moved his arms.
Sid’s limbs followed. Four muscular arms rose in the air, like fighter jets on their way to a dogfight. And on a one or two second delay, they swayed after Marc’s.
For a while, they followed Marc completely. Then Sid went down his own path. The Lenorkian’s movements grew aggressive and battle-like. He punched at the wind swiping across him. He shuffled his feet as if swapping battle stances.
He caught Marc’s curiosity. Even as a novice, Marc could tell Sid’s movements weren’t traditional by any means. But to Marc, it was dancing all the same.
The two danced to the chorus of the air above. They laughed occasionally as changes in the rhythm of the wind tripped them up. In his head, Marc compared it to the painting on Sid’s door. The colony had never seen anything like this
Then something interrupted their dancing. The ground beneath them shook, throwing them off their feet. Heavy gray dirt trickled from the ceiling as the entire cave rumbled. And outside, the distant sky flashed and crackled. Its light illuminated the cave in violent spurts as the boys struggled to stand back up.
Eventually, the violent quaking and frightening flashes died down. The plasma storm held its breath once again.
The boys got back on their feet, but all the joy had seeped out of Sid’s face. He just stared at the floor in deep contemplation. Even as the windy music started back up.
Marc figured he would rescue his friend from whatever dark thoughts had turned up. Naturally, the end of the universe was a real bummer.
“End of the world got you down, huh?” He tried to laugh it off. The whole situation was pretty sad. Especially when they were having so much fun. But it was best to end the universe on a high note, right?
Nevertheless, Sid seemed dejected. He mumbled something inaudible.
“Dude, I can’t hear over the song!” Marc said in an elevated voice.
Sid spoke up over the wind. “That’s not what I’m upset about,” he said, his voice still fairly low.
“Then what are you upset about?”
Sid blurted out his response. “Because I invited Tōn-E, okay?
He couldn’t bring himself to look Marc in the eye. Because he knew what was coming.
“YOU DID WHAT?!
” Marc shouted over the music. Marc himself stomped over to the vent. He picked the cover off the floor—though he struggled quite a bit with it. It was heavier than Sid made it look. But he hoisted it back into the mouth of the vent. The music shut off. The steady drop of sand on the cave floor ceased.
“Say that again,” he leveled in Sid’s direction.
“What was I supposed to do?
” Sid remade eye contact. “Not invite the only other intelligent being
to the last party the universe will ever have?
Marc needed no time to answer. He nodded insistently. “Yes. That was exactly
what you were supposed to do. What the hell, Sid?” Marc would have continued, but there was another disturbance outside. He caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway.
Thanks for reading some of my words :) I’m trying stuff out, so let me know what you think.
The rest of the story is here
Based on this prompt
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2023.06.04 08:24 ArrivalUpset6475 Health bio
There aren’t many people on here so I thought I’d post my health bio in case anyone is looking for answers and finds my info helpful.
2003 age 22: flew to Madagascar, which was nearly 24 hours of airplanes and then we also did several boat rides, of at least an hour each. I was on an anti-malarial medication. I noticed that when I walked, it felt like the jungle was whizzing by me. I felt very weird, a bit dizzy and like my brain wasn’t keeping up with everything around me. The episode lasted about 4 weeks, and I assumed it was the anti-malarials that were doing it to me.
2008: flew to Belize. Again was taking anti-malarial medication. Again we had a lot of boat rides, including a full day of snorkeling off a small boat. I felt like I was still on the boat after I got off. That feeling lasted about 6 weeks. I saw an ENT who said maybe it could be a reaction to the anti-malarials, gave me an 8” thick medical textbook and suggested I sit in his office and look it up myself. I decided to go home and try google instead (which wasn’t nearly as robust as google today is). I felt like I was walking on a trampoline, and even when I wasn’t moving, I was still rocking.
2009: I flew to see my dad and was fine in the way there. A couple days after returning home, I felt the rocking feeling start, faintly at first and then getting stronger. It felt like I was on a boat being tossed by the sea. The feeling got stronger and stronger and I went to see a different ENT. He ordered an MRI and I had a complete sinus blockage, but he still didn’t think that explained everything. He sent me to a neurologist who laughed at me and said “well it’s not MS. I don’t know why you’re here.” For about a month, I couldn’t get out of bed; I was so exhausted and weak, and the vertigo was so strong. I had a weird g-force feeling like I was being physically pushed to one side or another. After about 8 or 9 weeks, the episode faded away. I did have a sinus surgery but only after I was better. At this point, I knew something was up. I found info about mal de Debarquement online but it was limited. It also sounded like it was something people got and had forever, not episodic like mine.
2011: triggered again but this time by a car ride. All my family lived out of town so I had to travel if I wanted to see them. Suspecting that planes were a trigger, we decided to drive from Arizona to Oregon. I got triggered and again the episode lasted 2 months. I again felt weak along with bouncing, rocking vertigo and disorientation. We decided to move to be closer to my mom and sister since traveling was clearly a trigger for me.
I went on to be triggered in 2012 by stress after a surgery (endometriosis) and in 2014 by a 1 hour ferry ride. Both times my symptoms were rocking vertigo as if I were on a boat, plus exhaustion, migraines, exercise intolerance. My labs and other tests all came back basically normal. I started seeing Dr Jeff Brown, who co-wrote the first article about MdDS, and he diagnosed me with M de Debarquement but said he was mystified by my episodes, but thought we could try Xanax and prednisone before travel next time I fly. In 2015 I got to test it out, and I flew and didn’t get triggered! I would have been thrilled except I felt there was no way to know if the preventative measures worked or if I just wouldn’t have been triggered.
In 2017 I was triggered due to a lot of stress, plus a 20 minute light rail ride downtown. I had a small lesion on my face and was diagnosed with shingles on the vestibular nerve. The episode was so intense, it felt like two layers of vertigo at once. I could feel like MdDS rocking but also a slow rotational spinning. It was completely debilitating. It lasted 2 months. I had vestibular testing done and it came back that I have endolymphatic hydrops, so Dr Brown added “atypical Ménière’s disease” to my Mal de Debarquement diagnosis.
2018: i tried the Xanax before flying again but I took too little and was triggered.
2019: flew to Panama and did not get triggered! Used about 2.5 mg Xanax for the first flight and a top off of another 1.0-1.5 mg on the second leg. Success!
2021: I got triggered on a 45 minute kayak trip. The episode lasted a year, and about 4 months in, I had the “2 layers” of vertigo again plus one 24/7 migraine for two months. I was out of work for 2.5 months. I was so weak I couldn’t walk around the block. I used to walk 5 miles for fun, and I couldn’t even walk 3 houses up the street and back.
2023: I was triggered playing a VR game (only 6 months after the previous episode faded away). So far this episode has lasted 4.5 months. I keep narrowing my life little by little. No flying? Let’s drive. No long car trips? Let’s try short trips. No short trips? Let’s try VR.
I don’t go many places anymore and I just go to work and go back home. I garden, I paint, I play with my cat. I used to not get dizzy/vertigo in the car, but now I do. I have trouble looking at screens and reading. I listen to audio books. I still have no real answers and no treatment plan. It’s been really hard.
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2023.06.04 08:17 justinwrite2 Criticize my first chapter please!
Totally new to this, would love critique on my first chapter. Give it to me real. I want to improve: this may just be a hobby but I love it!
What you see on Page One.
Read Seekers, until daytime fades to candlelight, For magic is found when ink breathes life to parchment, When bookbindings break and cradled words take flight. It’s the safety of cozying up near the warming hearth, And the rising steam from a wellworn mug It’s that smile when you turn the page in delight.
That cool little quote thing before a chapter starts that gives you background.
West of the Citadel Clouds, Bordering Mountain Pines and fickle Seashine Lies the renowned Port Cardica Where sailors sing and blight-born orphans dream.
A Slip Away from Death
Like most boys, Jake chose snoring in the pews over memorizing the Church’s proverbs. A clear mistake, he realized, as the Pastor's warning that “prayer follows danger” proved true. Hanging precipitously from the cliff’s edge, Jake recited every Creed he could remember in a futile attempt to appease any watching Gods.
“Prosper in his light, heathentry outside his sight,” he prayed, feet kicking in a desperate search for better footing.
It was a stowaways’ stanza, a tenet meant to share wisdom in ways the thickest of Port Cardica’s orphan dockboys could understand but, like most doctrine, its religious meaning was lost in translation.
Instead, the impoverished boys interpreted it as a practical warning to keep their heads down. Everyone knew the city’s Nobles revered the Book and claimed their prosperity was proof of Gods’ favor. Of course, beggars knew better: one downward glance at them revealed the decay fueling Cardica’s burgeoning wealth. Still, the poor learned to philosophize quietly. Someone was to blame for the hoveltowns, bird droppings, and penetrating seafood stink, and it better not be you.
For his part, Jake blamed himself. If he’d scaled the cliff wall with just a bit more care and a bit less haste he’d never have slipped. Instead he’d been forced to violently slow his descent, bruising bones and trading skin for friction on the vertical slope. It wasn’t a graceful maneuver by any means, but it beat falling hundreds of feet into the freezing current below. Thankfully, years as a guttersnipe had honed his reflexes – his gangly arms lacked the strength of a Swordsquire or the coordination of a Majpupil, but his daily dance with starvation demanded nimble fingers and quick wit.
That experience wasn’t paying off. As Jake shuffled his feet around to find better purchase, his hands slipped on the accruing condensation from the ongoing manastorm. His grip flagged, then failed, and he had neither the magic nor the strength to escape the weight of gravity.
“It isn't written, it isn’t written” Jake recited frantically as he began to plummet. The other dockboys would laugh at his superstition, but he didn’t care. Many claimed the Creeds were lucky, and Jake desperately needed some luck. Instinctively he spread his arms out as wide as possible, hoping to extend his reach and grip onto something.
By some miracle, It worked. The resounding sound of cloth ripping accompanied Jake as he slammed into the stone cliff, teetering to a stop. He hung like a rag doll, held up only by the hem of his matted, brown tunic; the cheap weavings had snagged and torn on an outcropping of stone.
“Aughhh” he mumbled.
He had survived, but everything hurt. Looking down to inspect the damage, Jake saw that his calloused hands were raw and pebbled, but a quick flex confirmed he hadn’t broken any fingerbones. Breathing a sigh of relief, he gasped at the telltale sting every kicked streetrat knew so well.
“Po-Poet’s hand,” Jake swore.
He grabbed the cliff wall to stabilize himself and, seeing as it had worked so far, continued reciting the few Creeds he could remember. A minute passed before he was able to think clearly, but slowly Jake got his breathing under control and continued his self-assessment.
Overall, he felt like things couldn’t have gone much worse. His cracked ribs hurt and continuing the heist would only exacerbate the damage, leading to scarring or permanent hobbling. Jake had seen many dockbeggars with similar injuries from fights or beatings, unable to walk straight without being plagued by the stitchers cough.
For this reason alone, Jake briefly considered giving up. He quickly dismissed the idea – it might be madness to continue climbing in his condition, but he’d come too far to back out now. He’d planned this heist for months, obsessively pathing his break-in while waiting for a night when security would be light. In retrospect, he’d been a fool; his overly cautious preparations left no possibility for a second attempt before his 15th birthday.
No, despite his injury tonight was still his best hope to successfully steal a Scriptors’ Grimoire before Binding Day. Failure would mean enslavement as a Ruddite or worse, full Automation. He’d just have to trust the windy weather to mute his movements and the harvest moons to light his way.
So, teeth chattering with cold and fear, Jake resumed the ascent. His ribs sang in agony as he put one hand in front of the other, slowly turning small divots into handholds, footholds and leverage. Each bouldering movement made him wince, but over the years he’d honed the art of turning sweat and grit into capillary action. He’d had no other choice; richmen shared a passion for building impenetrable estates, forcing thieves to develop an unshaking hand at scaling them.
Five painstaking minutes of climbing later and Jake regained his original position. Salty sweat matted his brow and stinged his eyes but he persevered. He blinked slowly to clear his vision and shuffled his feet left over right, shivering his way across an inch-wide protrusion. Just a few meters above him stood the lip of the granite outcropping and access to the marble fortress built upon it. Jake tasted copper as he bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation – If the heist went well he’d finally change his destiny and be able to swear upon the Sermon’s Book on his own terms.
But first he had to finish the climb. He knew the manor’s sentries rotated hourly, eyes glued to the sky as they watched for flyingmen and attacks from above. He also knew that all these guards would be literate, but none especially gifted. After all, no one powerful enough to be a Writer would stand watch over another man's fortune. The chartered Maji Wordlings, on the other hand, could easily detect Jake if he hadn’t planned for them in advance. He chose tonight because it was the season’s Lenting, meaning the majority of Maji would be in communion until the sun rose.
“What is written” a gruff voice proclaimed, startling Jake.
It was muffled by the wind, so it took him a moment to realize it was coming from directly above him. Jake craned his neck and peered up; to his horror he could see the silhouette of a guard's shadow on the cliff wall.
Petrified, Jake hugged his body to the cold granite, hoping the darkness of the windy night would hide his form. His entire plan hung on the simple thesis that in a world of magidetectors and magflight, no one would expect an unbound to scale the walls. Great in theory, but what if a guard just happened to look down?
“Is Foretold and Forbidden,” another voice chanted, completing the customary greeting. “All safe on the watch?”
“All is safe and silent, as usual,” the first man grunted.
“Don’t sound so upset,” the second laughed. ”We chose this job because it’s easy, remember? No more treading through the mud, no more war with those blasted barren beasts and their infernal warlocks.”
“That’s true, althou..”
The men’s voices were swept up in the wind as they paced further down the stone perimeter. They hadn’t seen him, but, just to be safe, Jake stayed low until he could no longer hear the stamping of metal-toed boots on stone. Then, fingers white and aching in trepidation, he waited another 30 seconds.
Finishing his count, Jake peaked over the edge. It took all the courage he had earned as a thief and every bit of boldness he had learned as a beggar, but he managed it.
The coast was clear.
Jake carefully pulled himself over the ledge before falling into a crouch. He looked around and exhaled painfully, releasing a breath he had not realized he was holding.
In front of him lay an outdoor walkway culminating in a rippling fountain circumscribed by five basalt pillars of progressively increasing height. Everflowing torches adorned each of the columns and burned despite the rain, casting rings of golden light throughout the open atrium. At the foot of the fountain rose a gold-leafed speaker's lectern, a pure white sculpture of the Sermon Book chiseled open upon it.
Jake stared openmouthed at the power radiating from the fountain before abruptly coming to his senses. Without a doubt this artifact was a Magisma, an extremely expensive construct meant to amplify its controller’s magic. Leaving it outside was a casual display of wealth and power meant to shock and impress, but Jake didn’t have time for that.
Instead Jake blended into the shadows cast by the monument as he sneaked his way across the grounds. After passing the walkway the torchlight dimmed considerably, forcing him to hobble his way in the dark. A bright flash startled him, but the acid smell of tobacco that accompanied it indicated the guards he’d seen earlier were smoking to pass the time. Realizing they were distracted, Jake sped up and almost tripped on the jutting crystals of an emerald rock garden. Embarrassed, he paused to listen for anyone approaching.
Everything was quiet except for the constant pitter, patter and hiss of rain from the manastorm. It seemed his home-invasion had so far gone unnoticed, but the hair on Jake’s neck rose. An unsettling feeling of being watched set in and every few seconds he reflexively looked over his shoulder.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he made it to the Manor wall. Keeping to the shadows, Jake hid behind the tallest thing he could find; a towering yellow flower with leaves the size of platters that he had never seen before. Staying low, he muddied his knees and toes on the damp ground, but thankfully the foliage protected him from the rain. As his eyes adjusted to less light, Jake noticed all sorts of exotic fruits surrounding him; blood red berries in the shape of teardrops levitated inches off the ground, while turquoise bubbles floated up from vibrant greenery, collapsing quickly into little orange stones that looked remarkably like candy. Jake’s belly growled at the idea of tasting these treats, but he dismissed his urges. Stanzas warned that “those who leave riches unread become starving men” but Jake knew hunger well. He would jeopardize his mission by eating something that might make him sick tonight.
Instead, he focused on gaining entry to the manor. Searching his surroundings, Jake located the iron front doors about 6 meters to his right. They were guarded by life-like statues on either side, one a Korai of the Poet, hand outstretched in greeting, the other a two headed wolf, with both snarling maws crying out to the moons. The door itself was blacked with age and inscribed by a massive oval spellwork that glinted in the light cast by a hanging lantern.
Listening closely, Jake groaned at the buzz of silverscripting coming from the insignia. Every thief knew that spellworks grew more powerful over time, and anything audible would be too powerful for any Unbound to lockpick.
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2023.06.04 08:10 Sure-Mathematician68 Rp parter needed!
This is a plot inspired by the Dune fandom. Interplanetary exchanges of goods and resources, political espionage and spying, treaties, hyper-advanced technology, starships that can travel at the speed of light, magical plant properties that grant supernatural "blessings" to those who consume it.
Princess Sienna rules on the planet of Jansara; one of the many outlying worlds near the edge of the Centaurus solar system. Sienna was apart of the royal family who gained inheritance to much of Jansara's land. Other worlds, especially the Core Worlds, paid little attention to it due to it's lack of resources and generally unappealing habitat. The planet itself is that of a warm, rocky climate with high humidity. Black lava rocks covered much of the terrain while moisture caves and dormant volcanos are commonly found outside of the cities established on the surface.
Due to these conditions, settlers had to create artificial biomes to grow food, herd animals, and create a more oxygenated living space for it's people. Their infrastructure was that of many cylinder and block shaped structures with color schemes of white and grey. The most significant building though was Princess Sienna's home, the "Palace of the Saints," where she, her mother the queen, brother the prince, and two sister princesses dwelled high above the working class with their political and financial advisors.
The Republic of the Core Worlds, (otherwise known as RCW,) have been known to leech off of many outlying planets for centuries. They offered their credits, security, and advanced technology in exchange for luxuries like nuclear fusion, solar energy, fuel, starships, narcotics, medicine, fabrics, metals, weapons, and food among other things. All to satisfy their lucious core world lifestyles.
Little intergalactic trading happened here on Jansara aside from the few ores the Miners Commission have extracted from the nearest volcanoes. This made Jansara one of the lowest priority planets for the RCW to trade with. Because of this, great burdens were placed on the royal family and their advisors to keep the economy and flow of local goods supplied and operational. It also put a complete halt to funding further research for biome expansion without credits from the Core Worlds.
That is, until Princess Sienna visits the mines of an old dormant volcano for a thrill. The volcano she ventured into was once abandoned years ago by the Jansara Mining Commission after all the ore was extracted from it. But deep down into the darkness, far into the unexplored territories of the volcano, a garden of uncovered secrets lied.
Self-illuminating herbs, flowers, and berries lied in a field of glowing greenery that Sienna had never seen before. How could plant life grow in such a sunless place? But the greenery down here contained no ordinary flora. As Sienna soon found out, the fruit and herbs produced in the garden granted it's consumer supernatural blessings, but only temporarily. Depending on the offspring of the plant and the potency consumed, the blessings could last from just a few hours up to years. Levitation, telepathy, fire breathing, mind control, healing, and illusion casting were just some of many blessings granted by the volcano's greenery. Sienna was dumbfounded. This could save her city. Her family. Her home. This could finally put Jansara back in the trading system! Sienna knew this situation needed to be handled carefully or else the entire universe would be warmongering to invade her planet for its unprecedented resources. But then, as if to ruin her plans, a voice from the darkness. Your O/C.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
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2023.06.04 08:05 galacticsharkbait Is this all there is to life?
Sorry I’m advance for this long ass rant/vent. I have no one to talk to and just need to get this off my chest.
I work & commute 12 hrs/day 5 days a week. I wake up at 3:30am everyday just so I can maybe have 30 minutes to drink my coffee and read my book. I leave at 6am land get home around 6pm. I get one episode of Bluey to sit down and nurse my toddler before rushing to make dinner, clean up dinner mess, take a shower with my kid, then read her a book and be in bed by 7:30.
Saturdays I spend catching up on chores and laundry and doing house/yard projects. Sunday I spend a good portion of the day meal prepping for the week because if I don’t, I will end up feeding my kid cereal for dinner all week and buying junk food at the gas station on my lunch break. Then I try to spend part of the day playing with and focusing on my kid, but that doesn’t always happen because I’m usually at my emotional max getting tugged on and yelled at to be held while I’m trying to do a million things. I’m in bed by 7:30pm for work the next day.
I have no friends. Literally, none. I have no social media so not even the illusion of a community/friends. Sometimes I’m lonely and wish I had friends, but then I realize even if I did, I’d have no time to ever do anything with them. The thought of even trying to make a friend at this point sounds daunting and exhausting and impossible.
My sister invited me to a girls camping trip this weekend with her friends, and my mom actually agreed to watch my kid overnight tonight so I could go, and I was going to stay in the trailer with her opposed to bringing a tent so it would have been totally stress-free. It would have been the first fun adult activity I would attend in almost a year. But my daughter was sick last weekend and my mom decided she didn’t want to risk getting sick. So I couldn’t go.
I wanted to go to Home Depot today to get some stuff for my garden, and I couldn’t even do it because I did not have the mental energy to deal with wrangling my adventurous toddler who refuses to sit in carts or just walk next to me in a store. This happens every weekend—I want to go grocery shopping, end up not going because I don’t have the time or energy so I either order grocery delivery/pickup. I want to take my kid to do fun stuff but doing so will mean half my weekend to-dos don’t get done then I’m stressed out all week.
My kid is constantly getting sick and I am always missing work to stay home with her. Any PTO I accrue will go to all the time I take off to stay home with her. I have 100% sole custody with zero involvement from her father. Once every few months when a grandparent agrees to an overnight, it’s always on a Friday where I’m too tired to even finish a movie before falling asleep by 8. Then I have to get my kid by 9am the next day because you know the grandparents have lives too, they can’t just watch their grandkid all day (heavy /s if it wasn’t obvious). Even if I could muster up the energy to do something fun, I have no friends to go do anything with. Once I went out by myself last summer and ended up going home crying at 10pm because seeing all these groups of friends out made me realize just how lonely I am. I went out hoping to make friends and no one wanted to be my friend. I thought working would gain me some friends, but I work with literally all men and I’m an attractive female so trying to start an outside of work friendship with any of my coworkers is just a recipe for disaster.
If the rest of my life goes like this, what kind of memories will my kid have? What memories will I have? Working my ass off and being too tired to ever get rewarded for it. Hell even if I just worked 4 10s, I feel like my life would be immensely better. I work a physically demanding job now, but before this I just was waitressing for the majority of my life. Can’t work that field anymore though because there is zero flexibility which is essential when you’re a single parent. I wish I could have a WFH job but everything I’ve seen you need either experience in the field, some sort of license, or degree. None of which I have. I also have a felony record (over 4yrs old) so I don’t have unlimited possibilities on where I can work. Hell I’d even be happy to work like a 2-3 day workweek of 13-14hr shifts if I was able to find childcare for those kind of hours. Part of me almost wants to just go back to school and try to live off the grant money again, but I have to go full time to get that money meaning I can’t even work a part time job because I cannot handle that much on my plate.
I don’t know man. Lately I just keep thinking, is this all there is to life? I love my kid to death but I can’t even enjoy my time with her anymore because there’s always something to do. I wish I could just be one of those families who lives out of a converted van/rv and travels the country and actually lives. I hate this. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so lost and alone.
submitted by galacticsharkbait
to breakingmom [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 07:56 darklordray How do you afford to buy a house?
So, recently moved here from overseas. Both my wife and I work in central Oxford, currently renting in Kidlington.
Been looking at houses available in the area and slightly further away, 10-15 miles, but honestly have no idea how people in our stage of life can afford to buy a home (3bedrooms with a small garden)?
Or combined yearly income is 90k.
Thoughts, advice, comments?
Are house prices going to drop any time soon or become more realistic?
submitted by darklordray
to oxford [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 07:44 Presto707 Soil ready grow
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Idk if redi grow is good soil I tired to tell my father in law what’s sup with his plants. He grows big plants don’t get me wrong but the time they start flowering his buds are airy crunch and don’t taste good smells bad when u burn it. Probably what he sprays on them as well. Idk what do y’all think about ready grow with chicken manure. Personally I use pride lands that have coco beans. L submitted by Presto707 to GrowingMarijuana [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 07:35 MinuteSpecial_8242 27 [M4F] #UK #Anywhere - Dear Soulmate, Where Are You?
I've been looking for you forever. I've been wanting you forever. All my life I've wanted someone who knew me, every detail, good and bad. I've wanted someone to love and someone to love me back. Call me old school but I want us to spend the rest of our lives loving each other ❤️
I want us to grow together, make a family together and learn new things together. I'm sure we've both been drifting through life wondering if there's something better, something more, someone perfect.
To everyone else we're not perfect, there's something wrong with us, too introverted, humour too dark, too nerdy, plays too many video games, has one too many takeaways and watches too many movies that we quote movie lines back to each other and laugh at because we're that ridiculous but we love it because to each other we're perfect.
Hopefully this is where we find each other, this is the day where you slide into my inbox and go "Hello Darling, I'm Here", let this be the day we start our adventure, our paths cross and never uncross instead our paths entwine, never splitting, never growing apart, just growing closer and closer together as the years go by.
Before we do that though, let's get the introductions out of the way, my name surprisingly is not my username and I'm sure the same can be said about you, either way it's nice to meet you [INSERT NAME HERE], you have a beautiful name 😘
As we're meeting through the magic of the vast complex internet I'm interested to know where you're from, I'm from the UK so I'm one of those British people who have the fancy accent and like to take things that aren't theirs and refuse to give them back! Speaking of taking things can I take your hand and take you on an adventure for a first date? Go Karting? Bowling? People Watching? Just walking around getting to know each other? Where would you like to go?
Although we have all the time in the world to get to know each other let's find out the basics, I'm a 27 year old Male with an Aquarius Star sign and INTP-A personality type, the star sign and personality type are not important to me in a match, though I'm interested to hear your side of things regarding these, are you a believer in star sign compatibility?
Looks wise I have one thing to say, you're beautiful inside and out, don't let anyone tell you otherwise 😘 But in terms of looks, if you want to imagine me, think Tom Holland, are you imagining him? Okay good, now scrap that and think of this, I have short brown hair, blue eyes, a dad bod, I'm 6'0, slight stubble and good bum (apparently), that's me haha. What do you look like? If you want I'm happy to swap pictures just so we know what we actually look like instead of imagining.
But yeah, I think the basics are done and hopefully you're reading this like, "I must message him, he sounds a delight!" If so, please do, maybe we are soulmates, maybe we can spend the rest of our lives together?
As we've come this far let's find out how much more we have in common, maybe you'll read the below and think you're reading an autobiography because we have that much in common? Shall we see?
I have a full time job so that's my social life, I occasionally go out on weekends but not nearly enough for that to be called a social life. Instead I'd rather stay home and watch a movie, TV, YouTube or play video games.
Though if you want to know what media I like let's see if we match;
Movies - MCU, Scarface, Harry Potter, James Bond, Resident Evil, Austin Powers, Ghostbusters, John Wick, Matrix, Twilight and more!
TV - Doctor Who, Supernatural, Absolutely Fabulous, Taskmaster, Mandolorian, Parks And Recreation, The Office, Breaking Bad, Game Of Thrones and more!
YouTube - Sidemen, Yogscast, Syndicate, Jesse Cox, Call Me Kevin, Modest Pelican and again,more!
Games (video and board) - Monopoly, Cluedo, COD, Far Cry, Elder Scrolls, Mafia, Dark Pictures Anthology, Assassin's Creed, GTA, Forza, Dead Rising, Resident Evil and you guessed it, many more haha!
But the above is not everything I do as I also like to go on walks so it would be nice to have a walking partner though maybe it could turn into a hiking partner? I like cooking and make a good Spaghetti Bolognese. I can clean lol, I'm quite domesticated when it comes down to it lol. I'm also a keen gardener and like to keep a tidy garden.
What else is there, I suppose it's worth mentioning I can drive (people up the wall with bad jokes), I can write (see this post where I've gone on and on) and I can be very open minded 😉 Which is something best left to a private conversation.
Erm, so.... Yeah? I think that's it, though if you have any questions then feel free to ask, my inbox is free for public use, though not in that way? Or it might be? Who knows it's an inbox, anyone can message haha 😂 But yeah, oh it's also worth stating that I am open to long distance though that may have been hinted at before. But yeah, this is definitely it, the end of the post, I suppose the last thing to say is, if I sound like your perfect partner, your idea of a soulmate then message me, let's cross our paths and start our journey.
submitted by MinuteSpecial_8242
to Singles [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 07:35 helplesswithcars MTM DN10 ball valve.. 3/8" or 1/4".. apparently I got the wrong NPT
Yah.. so.. I got that MTM DN10 ball valve. First.. from lots of videos.. they show it turn so easily. Mine.. is HARD to turn. Not sure if that's just new.. or I have to loosen the nut under the little cap or what. But holy crap.. it takes two hands.. have to hold with one hand and turn with force. That's without any water on it.
Anyway.. I think I got the wrong dang hardware. I also bought the mosmatic swivel end, and then the QD male and female I got I guess are 3/8". They don't fit my gun or hose. ROFL. So.. I guess I can use those QD for garden hose..
The goal is to set up a soft wash setup. Is 3/8" the right plugs for the softwash gun and wand stuff? Or is it like my pressure washer MTM RG gun with 1/4" female on both ends?
I assume I need to get the threaded 1/4" male/female NPT ends, and the ones I got are just too big. But thought before I go start buying all that.. make sure if the goal of this MTM DN10/swivel setup is for an eventual softwash distribution setup.. that I am doing this right. I have a 100' 3/8" 4200psi hose right now. But given that softwash pumps are like 60psi to 100psi or so.. can I use 1/2" air hose that shows up to 300psi for water use? Or do I go with a 5/8" garden hose at 200' for that setup and thus 3/8" QDs are the right way to go on the hose + the gun (whatever I end up with)?
submitted by helplesswithcars
to pressurewashing [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 07:34 randomsapiens Some venting I didn't know where to post
It's 07:04. I woke up a 6:30 in tears. I dreamt of my Grandpa, who's been dead for more than ten years. But in the dream I had forgotten that. It was like he had never left. It took place in the family house. I had the chance to live and grow up with my grandparents (They were living on the first floor. Us on the second)
The dream in itself was weird like any other dream (I was walking around naked wearing a beanie, there were people in my garden negotiating to use a small pool that shouldn't have been there etc ...).
At the end of the dream I reach my grandpa sitting in a couch(fck I'm starting to cry irl). I'm trying to tell him about the people in the garden and if he's ok with them using the pool. His speech is pretty confused. I understand it's a sign of Alzheimedementia. So I grab his hands and I tell him: «Grandpa you're getting so old. I'm scared that you disappear». Next thing, I'm wide awake uncontrollably crying in my bed.
Everytime I think about this last sentence I burst in tears. Because I didn't tell him when he was alive.
My grandpa decayed in the most awful way. The dementia changed him completely. He was seeing us as enemies trying to stop him from doing what he wants. He said horrible things to my mother (his daughter). I had literally lived with him my own life but I was relieved when he was taken to a retirement home.
I don't know what happened in my child brain at this time but I felt far less concerned than today. It was probably my brain shutting down my emotions to protect me from unbearable pain. And now I realize I've never taken the time to properly mourn him. It feels impossible. I know that if I fully open the sluice gates of tears...I'll be unable to shut it off.
My grandpa was a titan. He had polio when he was a child. He had the strength of a 5yo in his arm and yet he was the hardest worker I'd ever see.
Grandpa I love you and I miss you so. I'm sorry I nearly hated you in your last moments instead of telling you that I love you.
submitted by randomsapiens
to mentalhealth [link] [comments]