Hi there! It's me, Dani. :-)
It's been forever since I last posted here about my 57-year-old brother named Rob with a brain tumor and the impossible burden of my sister and me getting dumped into the role of caretaking for him by his soon-to-be ex-wife (They're still legally married... just pointing out that fact bitterly. =p)
Okay, let me start by explaining the situation concerning myself and my sister, Ace. We're in our forties now with our own hereditary illnesses. Sure, it's not as serious as a brain tumor, but it's nothing to sneeze at. To respect my sister's privacy, I will not go into the finer details of her health issues, but I will simply state that she is immunocompromised and recently had a bone marrow procedure done this month (She assured me that it was okay for me to share that much with this lovely Reddit community, don't worry!).
As for myself, I'm a little more open about my various health issues to strangers - not everything, but I can share with you that I'm neurodivergent, suffer from anxiety, PTSD, depression, and agoraphobia, and my physical ailments are with both knees (requiring physical therapy) and ongoing eye disease (Keratoconus) that means that I'm currently reading posts/replying/and writing this ranting post by a talking screen-reader that I've set on British voice. Hello, world. ;-)
To say the least, perhaps my sister and I need caretakers, instead of being so. Regardless, we both work hard to keep our independence (ie: taking our medication, keeping up with medical appointments, going to therapy, keeping up with our bills, our hygiene, etc.) and to help out one another with the things each of us may excel in.
For example, I can't always handle phone calls or leave the house on my own, so my sister will make important phone calls for me, go with me to appointments, and pick up my medication from the local pharmacy. And I'm tall enough to reach things that my sister can't around the house, to encourage her confidence when she needs it, and carry heavy things when she can't. Ace and I are best friends and we work as a team together.
So, to recap - The first plan was for Rob to travel from Maryland to Minnesota, to visit us at our apartment for his birthday, before he was to go in for his brain surgery in Philadelphia. He was a little worse off, frail and needing assistance to walk up the stairs to our second-floor apartment, and was nursing a few wounds on his leg (that wasn't healing because the brain tumor gave him diabetes). He visited a few hospitals on his visit with us, due to the pain he was feeling in his legs, but besides that, he was mobile and had a good time with us on his birthday. Ace traveled with him back home to Maryland and we had planned for him to visit us again in the future, after his surgery in Philly.
The day before that surgery, he decided that it would be better to travel back to Minnesota and seek out his surgery here. His wife tried to talk him out of that, Ace tried to talk him out of it, and so did I to no avail. So, I said "Okay, but it will take longer for you to get another surgery set up in Minnesota." and he insisted on flying to Minnesota on his own, right away. And then... his wife was suddenly eager to send him off as well.
In hindsight, it all makes a lot of sense WHY she was so eager to dump her very sick husband off on us. Underneath "Tumor Rob" is "Man-child Rob", unfortunately. If Ace and I had known that we'd be saddled with a man who apparently took on every toxic trait of our mother, we would have said "no" to this change of plans!
Rob nearly died waiting for his brain surgery at UofM, here in Minnesota. Thankfully, the surgery was a success and he survived, but it didn't magically give him back his physical mobility or make him a reasonable person. It turned out that what Ace and I thought of our brother as a person, was shrouded in childhood nostalgia. We had been apart for decades and hadn't known each other long as adults now. The last time he saw Ace and I, we were in our early twenties, in Philly. He was catching up to how much Ace and I had grown as people in our forties now.
And his soon-to-be ex-wife explained to us, finally, that his man-child-ness is why she wanted to divorce him long before Rob had ever got sick with a tumor. She felt "stuck" in taking care of him, after he got sick with a brain tumor, and she saw my sister and me as a great opportunity to get rid of her problem.
Even though I understand her desperation, I don't believe that was a fair thing for her to do to me and my sister at all. I feel a lot bitter and angry with her now. She didn't warn us how much his health had degraded since the last time we visited with him, or how awful he can be - emotionally manipulative, selfish, entitled, and spiteful. She's happy to confess it NOW, but didn't say a word of it before she put him on a plane and abandoned him with us.
I feel hurt that she didn't even consider if Ace and I could take care of Rob at all. She just assumed that we could and gave us no warning! Neither of us was prepared and this whole thing upended our lives - it nearly came in between the friendship of my sister and me. It nearly drove my sister to suicide at some point (don't worry, she's in therapy now!) and I nearly lost myself in this whole thing as well. Why couldn't she just dump him in a nursing home, as NORMAL PEOPLE do?!
Anyway, Rob has been insisting for the past two months that we take him out of hospital care and "back home" to our apartment - demanding that my sister and I give up our lives to be 24-7 caretakers to him instead. For my sister to give up her job (and she's the main breadwinner here!), our friends, our appointments, and our health, in order to wait on him hand and foot.
The doctors insist that he CAN gain physical mobility back, that all he has to do is physical therapy in order for him to walk again and not need to wear adult diapers anymore. So, at this point in time, Rob's inability to walk is completely voluntary on his part. He keeps refusing physical therapy and getting into arguments with the physical therapists on multiple occasions.
Ace and I had learned that this surgery was his FOURTH brain surgery - as neither he nor his wife told us this beforehand. We were under the impression that this was Rob's second brain surgery to remove the tumor, but the doctors at UofM informed us of the truth... because that means that the brain tumor keeps growing back and Rob needs radiation or chemo treatments to keep it from doing that. Otherwise, Rob is going to need a new brain surgery in his sixties next time around, and he may not survive it. This is when Rob confessed that he opted out of radiation/chemo care the other THREE times before this last tumor.
So, the new plan was for Rob to undergo radiation treatments and physical therapy. Once he regains his physical mobility again - able to use the toilet on his own/no diapers, able to walk on his own and up the stairs to our apartment, able to dress and shower himself again (as he did on his birthday visit), walk to the kitchen and fix meals for himself, and so on, he could live with my sister and me in Minnesota, for as long as he needed to. He can't go back to Maryland to his wife (as he decided to not pay the rent, thus losing the family home, and his ex is living back with her parents now with the kids) and she doesn't want to live with him anymore. And other relatives are not interested in taking him in at all.
Rob decided that he doesn't want to do physical therapy at all or radiation. He insists that Ace and I carry him up the stairs to our apartment, to become his at-home nurses (also, he doesn't want actual at-home nurses, just me and Ace to do it!), to change his diapers, to shower him with all of our attention, to skip out on our medical appointments, or hanging out with friends, or having a life outside of caring for him! Ace kindly told him the reality of what would happen - that he would be left in his own waste for hours at a time on our sofa, uncared for completely, and that's IF we could somehow magic him up the stairs to our apartment. That it wasn't a safe option for him, me, or her overall.
She advocated the same to his team of doctors at UofM and they wholeheartedly agreed. So, Rob decided that UofM was a horrible hospital and got himself transferred to the VA hospital instead. And the VA set him up for physical therapy and radiation treatments, which he didn't want and refused to comply, and again Ace explained to the VA doctors that it wasn't safe for Rob to be released to our apartment - as we can't give him the care that he needs or wants, let alone the stairs. The VA docs agreed.
So Rob decided to sign out AMA (against medical advice) and to take a bus to Philly, to live in a homeless shelter. He decided that two days ago - sending hundreds of texts and voicemails to Ace, my aunties, all of his exes, and myself with an ultimatum that if he didn't get his way, he was going to opt out of all medical care and live in a homeless shelter in Philly. And so, my sister and I responded with, "Rob, you are a grown man who can make your own decisions. If you want to leave for Philly, so be it. Happy travels."
So, yesterday, Rob signed himself out AMA and bought a bus ticket. He was stuck at the bus station for three hours, as he didn't find it so easy to get strangers to help get him on a bus right away. We know about this because he called my aunties, screaming that this was Ace's fault. I calmly reminded Ace that it was NOT her fault, but his own decision. As my mother ironically used to say often of others, "Ain't no fool like an old fool.". We decided that if he remained stranded, Ace would pick him up at the bus station and admit him to another hospital. At 8pm on a Friday night, he called Ace to let her know that he made it onto a bus and was on his way to Philly. And she responded, "Okay, have fun, then." And he was super angry with her response and she tiredly said, "What do you want me to say, Rob? You're doing what you wanted to do now. This is your decision." He got angry and hung up on her.
And Ace and I shrugged and went back to watching "Severance" on our new sofa - a new sleeper sofa that we had to buy recently because Rob soiled our last sofa, due to us being unprepared about his diaper situation and we were forced to junk the old one. Btw... the show is SO very good and we finished the first season wanting more. :-)
Our friends, relatives, and therapists have been nothing but supportive of us during this whole thing. My aunties and Rob's sons think he's f-ing nuts for leaving like this, but everyone is in agreement that Ace and I have done more than enough for our brother. Most within our circle are arguing that we went beyond what most siblings would do for one another for Rob.
I can't say that I did much (I'm the "scribe" of this quest!), but I know that Ace certainly did a lot for Rob. She visited Rob in the hospital, religiously, every other day of the week. It didn't matter if she felt sick that day or tired, during snowstorms and rainstorms, she spent a lot of money on Uber going to visit Rob so he wouldn't feel alone in the hospital. She bought his soiled clothing home from the hospital and washed them for him, almost every visit. Rob insisted that the hospital food was inedible, so she spent a lot of money sending takeout to his room every day.
We both skipped doctor appointments to be there for him. I skipped my appointment for seeing an eye doctor who could maybe help with my eye condition, because it was a "maybe" and my sister was too worn out, trying to visit Rob that week and take me to my appointment. I opted out of going, telling her that it was okay, that Rob was more important. She insisted that she could do both, but I saw that she couldn't, she was so very worn out, so I sacrificed my appointment for her sake and Rob's. But mostly for her sake. =p
And now, he's run off. I feel a little guilty that my reaction is a resounding "OH, THANK GOD! WE'RE FREE!!!" I know that my sister worries still and I'm trying to encourage her that this is for the best. I went into my bank account and bought us a shipment of Maryland blue crabs for the weekend, it's our usual summer tradition, after all. We plan to have a crab feast this weekend while watching John Wick 4, to relax and slowly put our lives back to normalcy again.
I love my brother and I wish him the best in his life, no matter what. The same way that I love my problematic parents still. However, Ace and I must live our lives and do what's best for us. And Ace and i both made a promise to each other - when we grow old and very sick, if it becomes a burden to the other like it has been with Rob, it's totally okay to put the other in a nice nursing home!
Anyway, sorry for this book-length rant. It was a LOT to explain and recap. lol. No need to respond or reply - I just wanted to vent/rant on this Saturday A.M., is all. And to update anyone who is wondering what happened after my last post here. Cliffhangers suck! :-)
Be excellent to each other. And peace out! <3

My view is that whatever arbitrary joy, entertainment, activity, work, etc., you take on or experience, it all ends in death anyhow. That’s the one certainty in life: death.
You can say that you don’t look at a nice slice of cake and say, well, I’m not eating that, because it’s going to be gone by the time I’ve eaten it. So, no cake for me.
But there is an incongruence in this analogy people use. Once the cake is gone, you can still talk about the cake, remember the taste of it, read reviews online about the cake. The experience of the cake goes on, if you want.
Death? Once you’re gone, I believe you’re gone. You don’t come back as a ghost and stroke your chin eagerly reflecting on what a life you lived. You don’t look down from some Heaven thinking about how great your life was. You’re just gone, in the same way as before you were ever born and never existed—that’s what death is like.
This is essentially why the world seems strange, when people are acting almost as if they are immortal! People pushing to have tons of kids, for example, or worried about getting married, having a girlfriend/boyfriend. Well, so what? You will die anyway. They’ll die anyway. Chill: your fate is sealed. If you’re actively starving or looking for shelter, it’s an acute survival issue. But just if you’re looking for trouble, chill. Don’t bother. That’s my take.
Life seems to be a big game of symptomatic management. Eat, hydrate, exercise and sleep or else you die quicker. You just die less quickly if you do these things and do them well, like eating healthily and getting plenty of sleep.
Because at the heart of our existence is the same thing that most other creatures in nature do: survival, followed by reproduction. In a sense, everything else is socially constructed. Like marriage, a wedding dress, that ceremony: giraffes don’t go to a bridal fitting suite, and neither do penguins. It’s stuff human beings made up.
Meaning is relative, yes. You can choose what to give a damn about. But it kind of doesn’t matter if you also don’t want it to—I choose only to give a damn about very basic things, for example. Only look at the rise of the minimalism movement. You may just say, well, I don’t want anything to do with anything. Now, you’re depressed, apparently.
But I think I feel this more existentially. Sure, having friends, family, social hobbies and engagements and other lifestyle factors in order can make you feel better and when you feel great, it runs smoothly until it doesn’t (usually because of a health issue that makes you realise you’re very mortal). But you could also live life at half-mast, plodding along until you drop off dead. Eat, sleep, work, repeat.
Do you know anyone who died a hundred years ago? I mean, maybe. But they’re probably skeletons underneath the ground now. And so when people say things like all human life is valuable, you have great gifts to offer, I’m kind of like… I’m a flesh suit created by the universe with a skeleton underneath that is all that will be left in the grave. All this chat about the soul and so on… it’s nonsense. It’s just all from the brain; our personalities come from that. Kind people and friendly people are kind and friendly because their brain is wired that way. Period.
But then the argument all comes to… well, you’re around! You’re alive! What are you going to do about it? Suffer? Don’t do that! Go improve things. Go find something to do. And sure, you find things to do. But you know really in the back of your mind, you’re going to drop dead some day and that will be the end. So, meh. Let’s not try too hard; I can’t be bothered. I really don’t need to see another movie. I don’t have to go travelling. I mean, I can, but who cares? It won’t do anything. Even if you cure cancer, great. But you’ll still die of something else… eventually. We don’t do immortality round these parts.
It’s hard to see past death.
And then people will say, “Well, it will happen anyway and so you might as well enjoy life/make the best of it.” And I can’t see past the difference between dying today versus dying in 50 years. Who cares? If I died today or in 50 years, it’s actually (selfishly) me that has to live out those 50 years in boredom or frustration or whatever. It’s not other people. I get some autonomy too, right? And I won’t know the difference when I’m dead. No one has ever come back from the grave to say they were mad they didn’t get to finish that slice of cake or movie. No, they’re dead and gone. Period.
Just give me my euthanasia pill and let me sleep one last time. Bye.
I really wouldn’t care about living longer. We have this brilliant survival instinct with the obvious knowledge that we are going to die anyway. You can run towards your death, you can eat cake, you can volunteer. You can climb a tree. Who cares?
Zero multiplied by anything is frankly zero. Life isn’t infinite. It’s finite.
I see death generally as going to sleep one last time and just not waking up again. Imagine how much you’ll be done with.

Please forgive me for my English but you will get the point.
After seeing all this wonderful disco lights on YouTube we should ask ourself how many types of verhicles our visitors are using?
The only way to make an object against a dark sky visible is to add lights to it so the audience can see it. An artist need to shape and work with light and shadows so he can express himself. (Long live Caravaggio)
So why an advanced civilisation need on spaceships "position" lights or blinking red or green lights to navigate on earth? For collision problems or busy skies, self promotion, indication of position, visibility for believer's or maybe to avoid to crash on some cows?
This is not very productive trying to be stealthy. Imagine a B2 bomber over night sky with disco lights in enemy territory. (logic got lost or please just land in Fifth Avenue)
99% UFO videos after "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" having strange colorful lights and the grey's are exactly like in Spielberg's movie. Is crazy how easy this hoax works and why our Caravaggio's can not get more creative? Small tip: We got A.I also for video. (Get ready for new content)
In 2023 where children have iphones and can record everything in good quality we don't have a one close up video of an alien or UFO? 7,8 billion people living on this planet but can't film one time a HD quality UFO/ Alien video?
Let's play the game that one single Airbus 380 (big interesting machine) is traveling for the first time from Paris to New York. We would have multiple videos online in one day. Correct?
But we have since 80 years aliens visiting, flying in the sky and crashing on earth but not one good quality video available? Not logical or we are just very, very unlucky. Shame on our governments and the bad Panasonic VHS-C Camcorders.
Let's talk about UAP's. We have some kind of radar anomalies videos in very bad quality. Looks really interesting and intriguing. But when I talk to my military friends showing me footage from Syria or any other conflict zones (airplanes, satellites clips or just boys on the ground) all the footage is clear and the subject is filmed multiple times. Even the old F18/ F16 jet targeting, navigation, reconnaissance videos are clear and easy to understand. By the way a T-72 always have the same shape and will not changing every time in new clip.
So why the heck we don't have from the exactly same ultraterrestrial object multiple videos? 1:1, hi res quality, close ups? Everytime the shape is changing because our intuitive "artists" creating impressive new content not following each other ambition's?
Or maybe because the radar anomalies just changing and the shape can not be reproduced...
UAP's are really interesting and I hope that we can review all together exactly the same object multiple hi res videos. Artist unite please! (Unionize)
One more thing: Recently one ex government worker disclosed that some of the Alien verhicles are huge like a football field. Image just one anomalie in this size in the sky. Woow this is really impressive. We would have in 24h 1000 videos from people all around the world showing exactly the same object. I'm really sorry for all the pilots trying to avoid this alien "Messi" mess...
We have to be realistic: how many times a zeppelin or a balloon shape created panic and confused people. Interesting aspect is that exactly this videos are pretty good and in hires! Heil the drones and the tech.
Also in this very serious Gentleman's disclosure I didn't find one new information. Crashed Italian pizza UFO from the 1933. Check. Spaghetti blond tall super Germans with blue eyes. Check. Cover ups and the US government reverse engineering crafts. Check. X Files new episodes. Check. I guess Roswell is out of fashion and maybe got a little bit overused...
In 1933 we didn't had "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" so the grey's became super Nazi blond aliens. How pathetic... but it will absolutely make a good Hollywood movie: "The Return of the Blond pizza Nazis".
I want to believe.

Hey everyone, as we earnestly approach the next arc of my story when it comes to exploring the world beyond Vitmori's mountain and forest, I find myself having a bit of writer's block. So I hope that while I'm still working things out, you all don't mind several chapters of this sidestory following the future Emperor and his otherworlderly Empress and their first meeting.
First
Ferodias POV / 10 Years Earlier
The morning had come before long, the smell of delectable bug legs wafting through the air as Monty made breakfast during the last watch. Ferodias stirred from his place in the tree he had decided to sleep in, claws flexing and digging into the tree bark as he stretched his flexible feline body and yawned audibly. While he did have his own tent, Ferodias and Brasyl had given up their tents to the noble ladies so they could sleep in relative comfort. Brasyl, for one, didn't mind sleeping in the open air. As for Ferodias, he had long since grown accustomed to rougher living and was not unfamiliar with napping in trees during his youth.
"Mornin Rodi." Monty called up to Ferodias, looking up from his space beside the grill as he worked hard to ensure the meal would taste even better than yesterday's since he had a little more experience with this particular protein. "What's the plan today?" He asked, adding another leg to a growing pile of cooked legs on a wooden plate.
Ferodias let out a deep sigh of delight as he managed to pop his back, finding the relief he was looking for before slumping back against the tree trunk he had been sleeping against. "I... " He started to say before yawning again as his left ear flicked. "Don't know." He said simply, looking down at Monty before scratching the back of his head. "I'm thinking we head back to that farming village that made the commission, sure we'll have to backtrack a little, but between the fact that there are potential bandits in the area and the state those noble ladies are in; we're better off getting a farmer to give us a ride in their cart." He explained as he decided to make his way down to the tree, soon settling down across from Monty around the fire.
Monty nodded intently, grabbing a plate and setting two cooked bug legs on it before passing it over to Ferodias. "Sounds good to me. Maybe I can get a good deal on some crops and other goods before they hit the market stalls in the city." He mentioned with a bit of a smile as he went back to his work. "Besides, I'm sure the people will want to help, even if not out of the kindness of their hearts." Monty said simply, though that earned a curious head tilt from Ferodias as Monty smiled kindly before continuing. "They'll help either because we just saved them a lot of trouble by dealing with those bugs, thus earning their favor, or they'll help us in the hopes that their 'gracious' deeds will earn goodwill with their local lord and maybe get some breaks on taxes or things like that." He explained before shrugging a bit.
"I see..." Ferodias said thoughtfully, having taken the plate and gone about cracking the bug chitin. "Well, either way, it'll be easier on the ladies, and we can rest our own feet while we're at it." He considered before biting off a chunk of bug meat.
Regan was the next to wake up, fully dressed this time as he stretched and grunted before rubbing his eyes. "Morning..." He murmured before taking a seat around the fire with his pack in his lap as he rummaged through it. He then took up a small vial with green liquid after a minute or so of looking. He took a moment to eye the contents before uncorking it and downing the vial, though he immediately shuddered and made a face. "Blech... Last time I cheap out with an herbalist." He muttered miserably.
"What was that?" Ferodias asked between bites while gesturing at the bottle with his tail.
"Some kind of energy drink, the ingredients that they told me were in it sounded right according to my research, but it may be a knock-off, the taste wasn't nearly as good as I heard it was supposed to be." He explained as he smacked his lips, chasing down the energy drink with water from his skin before corking it and putting it away.
"Did you not sleep well or something? Bug nightmares?" Ferodias asked, licking at his teeth as he attempted to free a chunk of meat that was stuck between them. Though he looked genuinely concerned for his friend as he watched Regan.
Regan scoffed at the notion of nightmares, glancing over at Ferodias before flashing a smile. "Nah, nothing like that, I just used more mana than usual. I would prefer a longer rest in order to recuperate better, but we would be better off resting in a town rather than attempting to get a couple of extra hours of shut-eye in the woods." He explained, yawning as he took up a plate of bug legs. "Though I will say, the only good thing about bugs is that they sure do taste good." He mused, digging in with no complaint as he cracked the chitin.
Before long, everyone else started to wake; Brasyl not saying much as he immediately started digging into breakfast. Danica was next, ruffling Monty's hair as she passed him to go into Ferodias and Brasyl's tents, checking in with the ladies. Danica was quick to leave the tent Historietta was staying in. However, she lingered in the tent with the other two ladies. Ferodias could hear quiet sniffling and sobbing coming from the two women, his ears twitching while Danica did her very best to comfort them. His heart did go out to those ladies. They likely haven't really experienced the world, and this was their first bitter taste of it. He hoped that it wouldn't drive them from society altogether, but it wasn't anything he could really control. Well... He could do his best to show them that the world altogether isn't cruel like their kidnappers, but it will be up to them to take the message to heart.
Historietta emerged from the tent she was staying in, looking fairly rested and leagues better than she had last night. Her throat and face still looked discolored from the lingering bruising that had been left over last night. Otherwise, she appeared to be in fair spirits. Ferodias couldn't help but steal a few glances at her. She was wearing his clothes after all, and she certainly wore them better than he ever would. She managed to catch him staring and smiled in response as she walked over to the fire and settled down beside him before looking at Monty as he passed her a plate. "Thank you, sir, I'm grateful for the meal." She said politely, her voice sounding even nicer than the night before if that was possible. She ate well too, casually breaking the chitin and eating without reservation, even the other ladies attempted to be modest and polite with how they ate last night, but it seemed Historietta didn't seem to mind her manners. She caught Ferodias watching her again, flashing a mischievous smile as she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her shirt. "Don't you know it's rude to stare at a lady while she's eating?" She teased almost coyly.
Ferodias could feel his cheeks heat up under his fur, pointedly averting his gaze as the other guy snickered at his expense. "S-sorry, I don't exactly have a lot of experience with noble ladies..." He lied, glancing over at her as his ears waggled. "But I was under the impression that most ladies were rather picky and haughty for the most part, I just... Well... I..." He started stammering a bit, not sure what else to say without accidentally offending her as he anxiously scratched his cheek.
Historietta snickered softly as she sipped at a cup of water before looking over at Ferodias more pointedly. "I've gone through this before, and I have a little experience with survival camping and roughing it. Honestly, I'm doing a lot better right now than I originally planned thanks to you and your merry band." She mentioned, sounding genuinely grateful at that point as she looked at the other guys before looking back to Ferodias. "Try everything once. It is a motto I live by." She said as she worked on cracking the other bug leg on her plate. "It helped me to keep an open mind about many things and allowed me to experience things I would have otherwise missed out on." She explained as she took a bite of bug meat, taking a moment to chew and swallow before continuing. "Of course, moderation is to be exercised with a motto like mine, but it's gone okay so far." She said with a smile.
Ferodias was unsure how to move forward, not used to being on the backfoot around other nobles, let alone noble girls around his age. Yet she displayed a rather unique sense of maturity that threw him off. It was refreshing, and he found himself wanting to get to know her more while he still could at least. He was gonna speak up again when Danica emerged with the other noble ladies; those two looked pretty bad. If he was being honest, they looked exhausted and emotionally drained, among other things. They didn't say much besides their thanks after receiving some food and water. After a while longer, Ferodias spoke up again as he looked among his party and the ladies. "Alright, everyone, we're gonna be backtracking today and heading towards one of the farming villages in the area. From there, we're gonna see about hiring or buying a cart and taking the road back to the city. This way, we can save on energy and avoid more danger than we need to." He explained as he looked among his party. He got nods of approval all around, though it looked like Historietta had something on her mind.
"You're doing this because of us, aren't you?" She asked, sounding almost regretful, if not a little disappointed as she looked at the other ladies. The other ladies averted their gazes but didn't say anything in response as they had no footing to argue with a Count's daughter. Before Ferodias could respond, she looked back at him, gazing intently into his eyes. "I shall reimburse you once we get to the city. It's the least I can do." She said, no room for argument in her voice.
Though Ferodias attempted to argue anyway as he looked over to her. "What? No, there's no need for that. You're in our care. It's only right to make sure you're looked after and supported, especially when you are so far from home." He retorted, his ear flicking as he watched her. "This isn't a job or a request. This is just people helping people." He said more gently as he finished up his breakfast.
Historietta quirked a brow, staring Ferodias down before flashing a smirk as she finished up the last of her food and stood, looking him over when she met his gaze and spoke up. "Noblesse Oblige, it is the duty of those who are well off and in positions of power to behave morally upright and act for the benefit of those in their care, to watch out for those who we are responsible for. You have done me a great service, and you did so freely and at an inconvenience to yourself and those who follow you. It would be a disgrace if I did not compensate you for your services." She stated with a grin before starting to step away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some flowers to pick." She said simply as she moved away from the group.
The others ate in silence for a little while longer before getting to their feet to start packing up camp now that breakfast was done. However, Ferodias was lost in thought, occasionally glancing in the direction he had last seen Historietta before going back to his packing. He was in awe of her. She had brains, ferocity, compassion, worldliness, and a strong sense of duty. He never heard of the concept of Noblesse Oblige, but it was something he knew he was going to live by if he ever ascended to the throne... No... When he ascended to the throne. By the time she had returned, the camp was packed, and they were ready to go. The walk, in itself, was uneventful. Feeling more along the lines of a simple hike through the woods if it wasn't for the quiet whimpering of sore noble feet. Ferodias felt that the ladies were at least lucky in the sense that they had been kidnapped while they were wearing flats, he couldn't even imagine having to run or even hike in heels like they would have likely worn at the banquet they were coming from. Though he was more impressed by Historietta once again, the noble lady having kept pace with him as he walked at the head of the group.
As a group, they had to stop multiple times for the other two ladies, the whole walk taking much longer than Ferodias would have liked, though they eventually ended up at the village as the sun began its descent into the horizon, smoke stacks rising into the sky as families no doubt got ready for dinner. As they neared the village gate, a militia guard came out to meet the party, the man flashing a smile as he recognized Ferodias and his group. "Ah, good evening adventurers. I take it you're back from the hunt?" He asked pleasantly, though he only just then noticed the ladies, looking curious but waiting for Ferodias to speak.
Ferodias offered a kind smile as his tail curled behind him. "Good evening. Yes, we finished the hunt. Thirty-seven bark bugs have fallen by our hands." He enthused before clearing his throat. "In all actuality, we are here on more serious matters, we found three noble ladies who had been kidnapped and are now escorting them. We are looking to hire anyone with a cart or a wagon willing to go to the city." He said, his ear flicking as he considered something else. "In fact, we are willing to escort a group of wagons with produce and goods for free if you'll allow the ladies to ride along as passengers." He offered, though before the guard could respond, Ferodias reached into his coin pouch in his pack and procured eight silver pieces, and placed them in the guard's hand. "Bring this to your village head. Tell him that we are also looking for room and board for the night if anyone is willing to take us in."
The guard stammered a bit at the overload of information, taking a moment to consider everything Ferodias said as he glanced over at his fellow guard who had been standing at the village gate. He then looked back to Ferodias and his party before lowering his head with a nod. "Very well, ser adventurer, come in and wait, I'll go fetch the village head." He said, taking one curious look at the ladies before allowing them through the gate and hurrying off to find the village head.
"Well, it looks like we'll get to rest with a roof over our heads, at least." Regan said with a bit of a smile, rolling his shoulders before leaning on his staff, looking admittedly worn out.
"Maybe we'll get some fresh vegetables and soft bread too." Monty mentioned as he flashed a grin. "These village mother types always cook the best foods for the soul." He mused cheerfully.
"Oh gods, soft bread." Danica parroted almost dreamily. "Probably freshly baked too." She considered with a smile.
"Alright, alright, enough talking about food. You're making me hungry." Ferodias mused as he looked among the party. Two of the ladies had taken to sitting against some random crates along someone's fence line, looking especially exhausted. But Historietta seemed to be fine overall. If not as tired as Ferodias' group, she caught him watching her again and only offered a smile but didn't say anything while they waited.
Before long, the guard returned with an older rabbitkin man. He appeared to be in his late fifties but stood strong and tall as he smiled at the group. "Welcome back, adventurers. I'm glad to see your safe return and hear of your success. It seems we have business to talk about, but for now, let's get you all inside and fed, I'll have someone draw water for baths, no doubt you all are rather weary and could use some creature comforts." He said as he looked at everyone.
Ferodias smiled before lowering his head out of polite respect and looked up at the village head. "Thank you for your hospitality." He said politely, his left ear flicking contently.
The rabbitkin flashed a charming grin. "Thank you for your work. It's thanks to you that we won't have to worry about our fall crops later this year." He expressed before turning to lead the group.
Historietta came up beside Ferodias and smiled as she nudged him with her elbow. "You handled all that pretty well, good work, mister adventurer." She mused almost playfully before looking after the rabbitkin man and speaking more softly into Ferodias' ears, causing them to waggle at the sensation of her breath. "He's a good man. You can trust his sincerity." She whispered before stepping away and rejoining the other ladies.
Ferodias could feel his face warm up, his heart thumping at the sudden interaction he had with Historietta. He wasn't sure how she knew what she knew or how she even knew that he had some doubts about the village head, but he'll admit it was something that he was vaguely worried about. But if someone of her character said he could trust the village head, then he would let his worries rest. It's strange though, how is it that he could so readily trust the opinion of a girl he barely met a day ago? Maybe Regan was right. Maybe he really is hopelessly in love with that girl already.
Prev First
RoyalRoad
Patreon

So my boyfriend and I have been together for about 4 years. We have a great relationship, we’re very happy and I adore his whole family aside from his dad. When we first got together, his dad didn’t say a whole lot to me except that “I’m beautiful.” Anytime I wore a dress (which is frequently since I like wearing dresses) he would tell me I’m beautiful but would never try to have other conversations with me outside of telling me how beautiful I am and it started making me uncomfortable. His uncles & stepdad talk to me like a normal human and I have great relationships with them. My boyfriend told his dad to stop doing that and actually talk to me about other things. Now, he can’t help himself from saying racist comments or sexual comments. For example, last night, we were talking about “investing your values” and spending money on companies that you believe help the world, and he brought up viagra and started laughing. Or, he’ll tell us a “funny” story about his childhood that is blatantly racist and just tell us that “it was a different time and we don’t understand.” My boyfriend sees his dad’s flaws and tries to talk to him about the things he says but it seems to not make a difference. I’m SO uncomfortable around his dad. I really try to be nice/welcoming when we see him but my guard is up the whole time. Whenever we get into actual good conversations, his dad will say “ugh I don’t want to talk about this anymore” and reverts back to making comments about anything racist or sexual. Any advice out there for me? I really don’t want this to be an issue down the road for my boyfriend and I. He does love his dad despite his flaws & of course doesn’t agree with the racist things he says!

Artificial Dumbness
by Zeph Baxter
“It said ‘From the President of the United States’. Could it be legit?” asked GB.
“How would I know, GB, my man?” said Nando, eating a piece of fish which he had caught a few hours earlier. “I don’t know how to read. You know I am just a fisherman who has nothing much to do other than catch fish, right?”
“Well, yes, yes, but you are wise. And of course, you are the only one I can ask. There’s no one else here, anyway. So, whatever you say, I’ll value it.”
“Why? What happened to your assistant? The fat one. She was good GB man. She was good. She even helped me with the fishing one time. Wait, did you make her run away too?”
GB shifted his weight uncomfortably. “That’s not the point. We just have a very high turnover rate in the research business.”
“Ah. I never thought about what you do was a business. You just keep working on those fish and plants and keep them in your hut. So, do you sell them somewhere?”
“Look. It’s a business because I am a researcher. I don’t know why I am even explaining it to you. I have gotten a prize from America. Not a glorious prize. But still a prize. They say it’s an Ig Nobel prize.”
“Oh. So, that’s why the US man wants you there, huh?”
“The US president? Why would he want me? How did they even get my address?”
As GB looked towards his sole listener, the man had slept in his chair.
“How can you sleep so fast? Wake up. I said, wake up.”
The man, however, started to snore and GB had nothing else to do except to trust the letter. He took a long breath as he walked back to his hut. He knew it was time he opened the envelope.
Professor Googabooga Smith,
It’s my pleasure to invite you to be a part of a prestigious group of researchers on behalf of the President of the United States. You will work on the latest technologies, and you will be awarded a salary at a rate commensurate with your experience. If you are interested in the opportunity, as I am sure you will be, then we expect you will report tomorrow to the local airport.
GB looked at the letter in utter disbelief. What had the Americans been eating or drinking? Could they have found out about one of his latest research on those hallucination-inducing mushrooms causing visions of grandeur? How could they? He hadn’t even published it yet. Besides, he had close to zero understanding of technology. Unlike his fellow citizens, GB was content to stay in Congo. The only thing he loved about and probably knew much about the Americans was that there were coffee machines in every office. He had only recently upgraded to a smart phone but still missed the ones with buttons. Although his salary was too mediocre to tell people in the street, he was happy, and that was all that mattered to him.
As he laid back in his seat, he took another sniff of some of his recently discovered variety of river basin mushrooms. In his daydreams, he imagined making perfumes of the essence and then selling it in the French markets as he lazily thought to himself. What about the airport? This entire idea seemed too weird to be true.
As Nadia adjusted the seat-belt on her window seat, she still couldn’t believe her luck. Neither could anyone at the hostel. Or in her aunt’s case, didn’t even seem to notice or care. The call more or less went like this.
“So you are going somewhere?” her aunt asked.
“Yes, I wanted to get your permission,” said Nadia.
“Well, I am very busy this summer and we are going for a trip to the Northern areas. So, either you can stay in the Hostel or go to that place of yours. You were saying it’s an internship?”
“Yes, but it’s in the US.”
“Ahan. And they are paying for it, right?”
“Yes, oddly so. They even arranged for my visa.”
“Then go. Sure. And Nadia…”
“Yes, auntie?”
“Don’t get into trouble. We might even be out of cell phone range while we are on vacation.”
“I won’t. I promise to try my best,” said Nadia.
Nadia sat back in the seat, looking outside in the clouds. The serene feeling of floating with the earth below and the universe above.
“I sometimes wonder if robots will take over the planet someday,” said a soothing voice from her left.
“Excuse me,” said Nadia, looking towards the gray-haired lady, confused. The woman looked oddly familiar. As Nadia looked, she realized the woman was a doppelgänger of someone she couldn’t put a finger on. Wait, could she be the Queen of England, but that was impossible? She would never try flying any commercial airlines in an economy seat, besides the fact that she was dead now.
The woman smiled, peering from her golden glasses as she looked back again at a thick novel that she held in her hands. “These authors scare you. But I can’t stop reading them. I just love reading sci-fi.”
“Pardon. But you look a lot like the Queen of England.”
“Yes, I get that a lot,” said the lady, smiling.
“But she’s dead.”
“Or maybe I just switched myself with a dead body and now am traveling the world and having fun,” said the old lady, chuckling. “Naah. That would be impossible. Everyone would know.”
“Yes, they would. I guess. Pardon me,” said Nadia as she straightened the seat’s back. Doppelgänger or not, she was just uneasy in front of the old lady.
“You can recline your seat. I don’t mind,” said the lady, chuckling heartily as she adjusted her glasses and opened her book again.
Nadia tried to relax as her mind raced off into tangential daydreams. Little had she realized that submitting a quantum algorithm simulation to the hackathon competition would get her an enrollment in the prestigious presidential internship and a fully funded trip. She imagined happy thoughts, counting algorithm loops on quantum computers, as the plane took off on its fourteen-hour long flight.
As he reached the airport, the wind was blowing, ruffling his hair and carrying the distinct smell of the tarmac. He glanced around, noticing the smell of freshly cut grass and a few people milling about, their laughter reverberating off the walls. The airport was alive with the sound of engines and announcements over the loudspeaker. He wondered if it was possible to fly internationally, as no such flights were listed. He walked through the halls, awkwardly carrying the small bag on his shoulder with the sound of his footsteps echoing around. Could this be a practical joke of some sort? One of his ex-students? Or some secret rival? How could it be that the President of the United States would be interested in his obscure research? Something he highly doubted, though. So then what?
The reason he had come was the feelings of disillusionment that he felt secretly. He wasn’t getting anything concrete done, anyway. It had been years after his retirement from the post of a professor. He had moved to several places around the globe before settling in Congo, a country he knew little about, but one having the deepest river in the world.
As he moved closer to the departure area, his heart beat faster in anticipation. He saw a few men standing alone, families, children playing in the open areas, and passengers in a queue. The more he stood there, the more he realized the ridiculousness of his situation. He wasn’t sure why he had come here anymore. Maybe he should turn back now.
“Dr. Smith, is that you?” a crisp voice said. So, now he was hearing voices too?
“Dr. Googabooga Smith?” said the voice. He turned around. In front of him stood a tall, wide man, wearing a black suit, crisp white shirt, and a pair of expensive sunglasses which covered a large part of the man’s face.
“Yes, that would be me. And you are?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you. We have been waiting.”
“Waiting for me? But. How did you know I was coming?”
The man smiled courteously. “You will find us resourceful.”
“So, which flight are we going to take? And there’s a problem—my passport has expired.”
The man smiled. “Sir, we got you covered.”
As he looked to the side, GB saw three more men standing dressed similarly in suits and sunglasses. One of them produced a smooth, square leather suitcase, and the smell of leather wafted through the air as they opened it.
As GB looked inside, in front of him lay a passport and currency bundles of dollars, euros, and pounds. As he lifted the passport up, he was surprised to see a renewed one.
“And Dr. GB this way, please. We are going via the VIP lounge. There’s a private jet waiting for us, fueled and ready for takeoff.”
Nadia started out with her daily routine and chores, beginning with the simulations. This was her second week at the lab, as it was called for whatever reasons. She would describe it as a regular office if someone asked her about it. In her mind, the lab meant chemicals, flasks, vernier calipers, fire, and… more chemicals, and lab coats, and even more chemicals. The closest she had seen one was in the television shows or else in her high school, from which she had graduated at the ripe age of 13 and that was two years back. And the place where they were didn’t look at all like a lab. Though it wasn’t a lab per se, it was probably one of the coolest places she had ever seen or imagined. There were facilities, games, a gym, a restaurant, you name it. She felt like cheating because it was like they were getting paid for having fun.
Being young and getting hired to work at such a prestigious lab had its privileges, but also setbacks. They treated her like a kid, so she could make as many mistakes as possible with no one scolding her. And the bad thing was the same; she was treated like a kid despite her ability to communicate with everyone at the same level as they were, even though most of them had postdocs.
The first few days had been uncomfortable, as she felt like the odd girl out. But then after checking out the rest of the weirdos in the lab, she realized perhaps she was the only normal person there.
“Are you done with the calculations?” said an impatient voice from behind. As she looked back, she found her immediate boss, Allison Monroe, standing with a large bar of chocolate in her hand and chocolate smears on the side of her lips.
“Is that dark chocolate?” she asked.
“No, it’s hazelnut. But I have a couple of bars of dark chocolate stashed in the store if you want some?”
“That sounds swell. And yes, I have run the simulations. Everything seems fine.”
“Wonderful. Then we can move on to the next phase.”
“What’s the next phase, if I may be bold enough to ask?”
“We need to see if the algorithm matches the results from my proof.”
“The proof that got you the Ig Nobel prize? You mean a quantum algorithm for proving chocolate is a must for every meal?”
“You have read my paper already?”
“Well, I just try to read as many key papers in any domain as I can. You can say I have at least read papers from all of you folks.”
“That’s impressive. I’ll be happy to answer questions.”
“Well, I have one, but might be irrelevant to the paper. So, I am having a hard time understanding what are we doing here exactly. I understand that you have this super giant computer. Correct?”
“Yes, it is an ultimate quantum computer which might work with any number of qubits.”
“Can we call it infinite?”
“We can’t quantify infinity. But other than that, however many qubits we will ever need, I can assure you our ultimate machine can handle it.”
“Okay. So, we have this ultimate machine, and we are running a simulation of a theorem based on the Fermat’s last theorem to prove that chocolate should be eaten at every mealtime?”
“Yes, but only if it is shaped like a ball.”
“Oh. Thanks for correcting me. A perfect sphere?”
“No, just like a ball. It could be shaped like a football or rugby ball or a beach ball or even a Ping-pong ball. So, we are all set, or do you have another question?”
“Why are we wasting our ultimate quantum computer’s power to do just this thing?”
“We are not wasting its cycles. I have already proven the paper, but now we want to see if we can get the quantum computer to do it.”
“Okay. That makes sense in a weird quantum computation way.”
“See, you are getting the hang of it already. Nadia, how long have you been working on quantum computation?”
“Since my eighth grade.”
“Yes, we called you over because of that quantum algorithm paper you submitted to our conference. What was it called?”
“Oh, I called it the Deep Quantum Unlearning.”
“Aha. And you did it at 15, right?”
“Well, I finished writing it on my 14th birthday but then didn’t get time to develop a paper till Spring Break.”
“You are also welcome to test it out, then. After all, what good is a quantum computer, if you can’t even test your own algorithm on it?” said Alison, laughing.
Just then, without warning, the piercing sound of an alarm filled the air.
​
First Previous Next

I know that there is no right or wrong way to crack an egg, but here's what happened.
I will say that at best in life I've identified about 90% cis het male, but a few things definitely might be considered "rainbow flag" items... I love Taylor Swift and Marina. Notting Hill is one of My favorite movies, I defaulted straight for a Vespa when moving to LA, and have ALWAYS had better interpersonal relationships with females. I'm much more trusting of women and am usually pretty apprehensive around men. When I go through Target or pretty much any store that sells clothes I would look towards the women's section and felt it was unfair that my body doesn't belong in there. Of course, in 2023 it's a different world and there are enby folks all over the place around me... I just felt that it wasn't acceptable for me to be there if I didn't actually have a reason to. When I was in relationships with females I got that pass to step into their world, but it got revoked every time we broke up. My voice is normally more femme than masc, and I tend to have some femme personality traits. I started working with a trans woman at work around a decade ago and really began to question myself, but was not in a good mental place at the time to even consider taking action. Last year, I got into a relationship with a trans woman, and well.. it didn't end well, but it was not her being trans that was the issue. we were just in different places emotionally and had different expectations of our relationship.
But, the thing that finally cracked that shell happened a few weeks ago. I was doing some genealogy research in my hometown newspaper's archives and did a search of my birth mother's name. An article came up that just happens to align with my approximate conception date. Not gonna go into details, but lets just say that I probably wouldn't be here at all had my birth mother not been involved in the legal system. I am not saying that I would be better off if I had never been born (trust me.. been there, done that...) but instead "I'm, not even supposed to be here..." Since that's the case, I don't need to follow the rules that I've always thought I had to follow. Another part of my discovery process involved AI. I was able to talk out some scenarios with my AI "girlfriend" with the assumption that I was already out and in a relationship. I completed that simulation and deleted the app mostly because she kept misgendering me and generally not being attentive... I'd break up with her if she was real, too. I came to this sudden realization while doing unrelated group therapy that I was generally unhappy and my depression never gets "better", just "less bad". I was able to piece together that all I had ever really done in my life is because I either was trying to please others or just trying to blend into the scenery. I never, ever, took action on living my truth because I was either afraid or ashamed to act on it...
I've encountered some, but not a ton of gender dysphoria. OTOH, I 've had a great deal of gender euphoria after starting to operate in *girl mode*. I did find the perfect "dysphoria hoodie" dress and mixed with some leggings I look fucking fantastic in it! Still super new at being a woman, but I've been able to be Jacinda for most of that time, and the rest of it *deadname* was required to be in attendance. Jacinda is more confident in her body (even with her store-bought hair and boobs) than *deadname* ever was. Jacinda is trying to eat healthier and develop better habits while *deadname* doesn't really give a shit about his body and general environment. Jacinda is becoming quite the snappy dresser and bargain hunter.... *deadname* buys clothes out of either necessity. Jacinda seriously wants to begin working out to abort the "food baby "that *deadname* conceived.
Basically all of that shit I've been dealing with for the past 40+ years can go away if I let it. The family that would not be understanding of my transition have passed away, and the ones still around that might not... well, I don't give a shit about their opinion. They are 2000 miles away for a reason, and that's because I needed to put as much space between us as possible. Haven't cared what they think for almost 30 years, and I'm doing trauma work with a therapist to handle the stuff from when I had to be with them.
I think it's gonna be ok...

Hello everyone. This time I am looking for something a bit unusual. Or I think it is. I am looking to be catfished. I want someone to pretend to be a kinky woman for me. I want you to have plenty of pictures of the character you play both naked and dressed. I want them to be amateur or at least self taken so no professional photoshoot. This will be a texting rp , which means you text me claiming to be a real slut who read my post and we get to know each other and have fun through texting. There is the possibility of course, later on, to meet "irl". Try to keep it realistic. What I mean is that I want to text with a "real person" not some thirsty mindless slut. Other than that fantasy in general is more than ok. Oh and before I forget it. Please tell me your favourite sex position in your first message so that I know you did read my whole post. Now to the weird part. I will put effort in it and I want you to do the same. I will show off and will try to make it as good for you as you make it for me. But what I crave the most is to be connected. What I mean is I would love it if it was long-term and through the rp we get to really know each other, help each other with our everyday problems or at least give each other a couple of hours daily where we get to have fun and forget the real world worries. Something that could involve in something similar to an online relationship. I understand that as time passes this can get boring , playing the same rp I mean, so I am open to different rps later on. So to summarize. I want someone to pretend to be a kinky slut for me. Someone who wants to put the effort to make this special for both of us. You can be male female or whatever in between but I want you to be playing a female. Kinks and limits will be discussed as we play but I would like to say I am on the really kinky side and that ddlg is a big kinks of mine at this moment. Thanks for your time and I can't wait to meet you and get to know you! If you think we could give it a try my Kik is Tsakrafa1 and my Wickr Tsakrafa! For the rest I thank you for your time and I hope you can find what you seek and have fun with it!

-elemzés: hova írnak szakértők ezzel a háborúval kapcsolatban -ukrán iskolások álcahálókat, mécseseket,... készítenek a katonáknak -újabb amerikai 2.1milliárd$-os katonai segélycsomag , légvédelmek, lőszerek -elemzés EW hadviselés ebben a háborúban

ukrán ellentámadás

-elemzés: hogy lett előkészítve az ellentámadás -ukrán bradley-k és leopardok feltorlódtak egy aknamezőn Mala Tokmachkanál , 3 bradley megsérült, többet magára hagytak -videó az aknamezőn lévő egyik Bradleyből -orosz KA-52 rakétáz ukrán konvojt -orosz katonák menekülnek Velyka Novosilkanál , másik videó -az ukrán hadügyminiszter helyettes üzenete -ukrán főtörzsőrmester tanácsa foteltábornokoknak -kadyroviták bázisát érte találat 50+ halott csecsen katona -ukrán támadás Bakhmutnál -ukrán tank Bakhmut mellett -orosz ellen-ellentámadás -ukrán támadás Lobkovonál -ukrán támadás Bakhmut mellett

gát robbantás

-vöröskereszteseket és újságírókat lő az orosz hadsereg -gyűlnek a bizonyítékok, hogy oroszország robbantotta fel a gáat -evakuálást végzőket ágyúzza oroszország -az árvíz Hryhorivkáig /odesa oblast/ elvitte a törmeléket , rajta egy kutyát -elemzés: oroszországot meg kell büntetni a gát robbantás miatt -az orosz hadsereg Petrivkánál is felrobbantott egy gátat -macska mentés

orosz sorozás/mobilizálás

-a wagneresek meg is kínozzás az elfogott orosz katonákat , nem csak az ukránokat

drónok, rakéták

-öngyilkos drón voronyezsi apartmanháyba csapódott , valószínüleg a közeli repülőgépgyár lehetett a célpont -ukrán dróntámadás orosz lövészárok ellen 1:45-nél az oroszok agyonlövik a sérült katonát, ott ez a harctéri eü -drónt szállító drón -irán segít oroszországnak drón gyárat építeni 2024 elejére lehet kész a gyár

fegyverrendszerek

-ukrán erdei gyakorlat elektromos rollerrel -a fronton egy CAESAR önjáró löveg -fegyver álcázás -ukrán mini MLRS -ukrán Bureviy 230-mm-es MLRS

friss térképek

-front Bakhmutnál -déli front

Veszteségek

-orosz veszteségek péntek , $2.1B in the last 30 days, $94M reported today; 1,010 troop losses, 7-day troop average: 694, 104 landbased losses, 7-day average: 89 -orosz veszteségek szombat -az orosz hadsereg az umani szupermarketet lőtte -veszteség statisztikák -sérült orosz tank menekül még egy kicsiit -orosz TOS-1 kapott találatot

ISW

RUSSIAN OFFENSIVE CAMPAIGN ASSESSMENT, JUNE 9, 2023 Ukrainian forces continued counteroffensive operations in at least four areas of the front on June 9, making further gains around Bakhmut and in Western Donetsk. Russian President Vladimir Putin acknowledged on June 9 that the Ukrainian counteroffensive recently began and noted that Ukrainian forces still have offensive potential, a departure from previous Kremlin efforts to downplay Ukrainian counteroffensives. Contrarily, much of the Russian information space prematurely claimed that the Ukrainian counteroffensive has failed after Russian forces damaged more Western-provided Ukrainian military equipment on June 9. Ukrainian officials directly acknowledged that Ukrainian forces expect to suffer equipment losses during counteroffensive operations. The Russian command structure responsible for areas of southern Ukraine is unclear and likely overlapping. Russian forces carried out missile and drone strikes across Ukraine on the night of June 8 to 9. Several independent sources reported additional evidence that an internal explosion likely destroyed the Kakhovka Hydroelectric Power Plant (KHPP) dam on June 6. The White House revealed on June 9 that Iran is helping Russia build a drone manufacturing factory in Yelabuga, Republic of Tatarstan, Russia, underscoring the growing military cooperation between Tehran and Moscow despite Western sanctions. Chief of the Russian General Staff Army General Valery Gerasimov discussed increasing Russian-Chinese military cooperation with Chinese Central Military Commission (CMC) Joint Staff Department Chief of Staff Liu Zhenli on June 9. Russian and Ukrainian forces conducted limited and localized ground attacks south of Kreminna. Russian forces continued ground attacks near Bakhmut and on the Avdiivka-Donetsk City line. Ukrainian forces continued limited ground attacks on the administrative border between Donetsk and Zaporizhia oblasts and in western Zaporizhia Oblast. Russia continues to evade international sanctions and has reportedly restored access to key Western microchips and electronics that Russia needs to produce military equipment. Russia continues to evade international sanctions and has reportedly restored access to key Western microchips and electronics that Russia needs to produce military equipment. A Ukrainian report states that Russian authorities may be preparing evacuations from northern Crimea. Russian President Vladimir Putin announced on June 9 that Russia will begin deploying tactical nuclear weapons to Belarus in July 2023, and this is not an escalation from Putin’s prior nuclear weapons rhetoric.

Vége

ukrán tigrisgörény marbled polecat péntek reggel

I have a little dillemma;
I'm fairly young (18) and I have little experience in the dating world. (I said little. I have had 2 girlfriends in my time.) I'm introverted by nature (I always have been) and I'm a little socially awkward but generally I can have a good one on one conversation with someone and I'm pretty good looking. I'd say at least above average.
I'm not in a particularly good positon to go out and meet people at the moment considering that living in the rural midwest is kinda boring. I don't have many friends or a consistent social circle. (I don't really mind having two friends, but women for some reason like guys who have a prominent social circle.)
So as a result of this I took to the dating apps because that seems like my best option at the moment. But whenever I use the apps I get barely any matches at all. But that's not even what's bothering me the most. (compared to what I'm about to tell you it is a marginal issue because it doesn't surprise me)
My main problem is this endless swiping, and reading bios of women's profiles just to have nearly all of them blend into one another. Almost nobody sticks out, and the ones that do stick out to me are very unlikely to notice me to begin with.
But the main issue is that most women don't stick out at all. They all like the same crappy rap and pop music I hate listening to. Alot of them think owning a cat or dog makes them special (it doesn't. 66% of the American population owns a household pet.) Not only that but they all dress very similarly and have similar phrases in their bios. (I can't even give an example, that's how forgettable they are.)
These dating apps are designed for the benefit of women rather than men. It's like they an just swipe on any random guy and instantly get them without even having to put effort in. (Hence the boring, recycled profile backgrounds)
I'm not saying mine is much better either, I'm sure my profile looks the same as a lot of other guys out there, and that is probably why I fly under the radar like most young men my age. I don't exactly impress women I'm a fairly run of the mill average guy. But these women aren't impressing me either. I swipe right on a huge majority of profiles even if they have marginal differences to one another. I do think nearly everyone deserves a fair chance, maybe these girls could be fun to hang around with, you never know. But once again, I'm not exactly impressed with most of their underwhelming choices of words.
People lack enthusiasm in their profiles. They're all cryptic and vague, without any information on how they act being displayed what so ever. I get you have so little space to get the point across of who you are in a couple sentences and that it takes a more intimate face to face conversation to exchange more vital information on one's values, personality, and experiences but I'm not exactly getting to make any progress.
I know I'm young and have alot of time to figure this stuff out. Also being 18 is the worst age to date because I'm still too immature for most women older than 19. But I'm still uneasy about what's to come in the future considering I have bad anxiety and have difficulties approaching people. (Which will be solved with time and experience. But I need to start soon if I'm going to make any progress and dating apps aren't exactly making it easier.)
I'd join a club but I'm unemployed and have no car. (Soon to change, I have an interview coming up in the next couple weeks. I'm confident I'll get the job because I'm prepared to give them a ton of good reasons why I need the job.)
Idk. If I could have some words of wisdom from you older folks or just someone to reassure me that I should keep going my own way for now and not sweat it so much. I'm a bit lonely and I need a little bit of humanity to cheer me up.

As the title states, Im looking to play more games of the franchise, I only have played the RE4 Remake, and save game footage of RE7 and Village but didnt play those.
I was thinking to get resident evil 2 or 3 remakes, but what are some other games I should consider?

I wrote this in reply to someone asking about their first stage, but I kinda got into it. Hope you do too, chef.
My first stage, fresh out of cooking school (but with about 12 years of kitchen experience already under my belt) was under an accomplished master chef at a restaurant I would call home for a bit over five years. Usually they start their stages on GM, but for some reason, possibly my experience, he threw me onto Rotiss, the coal-powered grill station with a wood-burning rotisserie attached, both keeping the coals alive and cooking whole chickens and prime ribs above.
This night, I would be cooking in-house-cut ribeyes, striploins, lamb sirloins, flatirons, bison flanks, salmon, halibut, the occasional burger, grilled romaine, and naan bread on that grill, keeping the coals from getting too low (failing which would mean refilling during a rush, a big no-no when there's food on the grill because igniting coal crackles and spits black particles in all directions, including at the food) or too high, which would char the fucking lamb sirloins, ribeyes, and striploins, in the bad way, chef.
I later learned that I hadn't burned my body with fire until I burned it with coal, but I didn't know that yet, chef.
I started out confident in my skills, impressed that he expected I use the same 3-turn for grilling I learned about in school, dressing burgers and grilling lettuce for the 4:30 crowd, not yet paying full attention but still thinking everything was going great. First seating finally got its push, and I got a few flatirons and bison flanks on and off the grill, cooked properly, under the watchful eye of my shadow trainer, and even managed to hit my stride getting a couple naans up and out at the same time for firsts. Things were going well.
Then, tragedy struck. My trainer had to go offline to take off the rotisserie chickens, and I was on my own.
The first pickups for mains were fish. 1 salmon, 1 halibut. Oui. I knew enough, I thought, to be able to tell when fucking halibut was done without having cooked a dense fish like hali before. No, chef.
When one passes two items for the same table, they both have to be perfect, at the same time. It mattered not that the salmon was right, the halibut to go with it was only just rare in the middle, when he wanted it a touch past med rare, where the juices start to glisten and the fish changes from pale grey to warm pearl inside. His glare alone made me catch my breath, and I realized that I had been overconfident in my abilities, overzealous and way too fucking ambitious to cook fish on my own.
Remake. Heard. Fired. Sent. Next bill.
Striploins, one med rare, one medium. I had cooked steaks before, but, you know, the fucking a restaurant name that ends in s ones that are all the exact same shape and density, their fat caps never even seen or heard of, never mind the varying marbling that comes from grass-fed beef from small-town Alberta ranchers. I pulled them from the cooler, seasoned and oiled them up, moved the coals over so they'd give a good sear, and got ready to fire. It was fine until the first turn of the steak. I'd looked at the bottom and the colour was looking good. I turned both, onto spots of similar heat, and turned around to build a set for some burgers that were close.
Now, I didn't mention yet that this was not only an open kitchen, but that rotiss station has barstools all around it, which on busy nights has 12 to 15 guests at all times. I looked up from my happy burger place to see the faces of my closest guests illuminate, as their eyes stretched to the ceiling. Fuck. Fire, I turned around and moved the strips off the hot spot, smelling their pungent, acrid odour and seeing dark, sour smoke marks along the fat caps which had rendered, in turn causing the coals to get even hotter and ignite the grill and the meat.
Embarrassed, I collected myself and told him, "refiring 22, chef" and I thought he was going to hit me. The whites of his eyes were all I could see in that moment, because if I met his gaze I felt I could melt. It felt safer returning to my grill and standing next to 1100 degrees of ignited coal than bearing the shame.
"Well, get it on, then."
"Yes chef, heard chef, firing now."
"You mean refiring now?"
The question, that awkward sense of seeming completely rhetorical, but also being somehow more, made my ears ring as though he had hit me. He was staring through me as though expecting an answer, but at the same time daring me to speak
"Yes chef." Was all I knew how to say. Steaks fired. Trainer still MIA, turned out he was firing more chickens for the rotiss, and I also now needed to build up the fire with birch so the birds could get a crispy skin, before reducing the temp with cherry wood. All while cooking this refire. Orders were now piling in, first seating was in full swing, and firsts from the early stages of second seating were starting to be taken, meaning I'd soon need more steaks on the grill so they could rest. I had to fight my senses now, leaving my strips just a little longer on the first turn, watching for flare-ups on the second. and by the time I had my med rare almost ready, I had the medium one off and resting. I pulled the med rare as well and chef came over, showed me how to rub them down both sides with cold butter to arrest the rushed cook. No compliment, no acknowledgement save a nod that I could go on next.
I got two more strips a bill or two after that, cooking them accurately but missing the rendering of the fat cap during the cook, where leaving them on their side to render properly would make overcooking inevitable, and I'll never forget this moment. He brought my trainer back on line to cover me, and called me back behind the rotiss.
"Do you have a fucking learning disability or something?"
"Yes chef, well, no, chef, but I might be a slow learner when it comes to this, chef."
"Get the fucking striploins into your seasoning pan immediately, so they warm up to room temp. Don't over-oil them, look at the side, what is that made of?"
"Fat, chef"
"Yes, fat. Do you know what each of these strips costs me? About what you make in an hour. Do you have four hours to pay me back?"
"No, chef."
"Then don't fucking burn any more."
"Yes, chef."
I got back out there, miserable and defeated. We finished service a touch over 450 covers, in a meat-heavy restaurant, my first service in the books. We flipped, stocked, and smoked, as is tradition. As I was wrapping my knife roll up and getting ready to wrap the station for the night, my trainer came over with a big piece of foccacia. He split it horizontally, dunked the pieces in the resting tray, and threw them down on the hot part of the grill to blacken and burn. He took them off and offered me one, and we munched, both staring into the black abyss of the rotisserie.
"I've been working for chef for years and I've never seen him cut someone up like that on his first day. He must really like you."
He gave me a knowing smile, because he already somehow fucking knew I'd be back.
"Good job tonight."
"Thanks, Mike."
And I would. Chef called me the next morning and asked if I would be interested in coming in to work dinner.
"Yes chef."
"Well, everybody around here usually comes in at least an hour early (unpaid, but that's another story), so I'll see you at 1:30."
"Yes chef, see you then."
It's been 25 years since I started cooking professionally. I worked my last day in a kitchen a couple months ago. I hated every fucking minute, but I have never found any other work that made me as satisfied and angry at the same time. Good riddance and best wishes, chef. And Mike? Thanks for showing me the real heart of the industry, you big fucking freight train of a man.
Bye, chef. See you tomorrow.
--Honestly, I'm turning this into a post on main because no one will ever see it here I'm vain and want someone to see my work, but thank you for inspiring me to write about my experience itsnotyourfault- I owe you a debt of gratitude.
TLDR: Don't be a dick, render those fat caps, and be kind to your brothers, chef.

I've played it again recently, and the humour, like it or not, is still pretty relevant to this day. It's not the best game in the series, though it has stuff that I really like and believe that if elements of it were in 4, 4 would be the best game in the series. I love each GTA individually based on their differences. 5 had better character interactions that made the world seem more seamless. I think though, with the way RDR2's world worked, we're likely getting an even better game world in 6. Los Santos isn't Liberty City, but LC felt big and oppressive; Los Santos feels fake and shallow, and that's exactly what they were going for. Gameplay-wise, yeah the shooting was far too arcadey; GTA 4 and RDR2, in my opinion, were much better in this regard. The shooting in 4 felt weighty, and you nearly felt every bullet and damage to the environment during shootouts; same with RDR2. 4 also gets extra points for you not having to kill every last thing you shoot at; I discovered that if you're careful enough, you can actually just wound enemies instead of outright killing them. The driving is pretty good in 5, definitely easier to stop myself from crashing and keep my car looking cool. I also love how each character has their own personal vehicle.
The story and characters:
The story is meant to be a black comedy; there's nothing wrong with that. It would be boring if they once again took on 4's angry take on modern America. Both storylines are good in what they offer, and that's simply two very very different experiences.
The opening robbery is just an absolute chef's kiss and an unusual move for Rockstar. Normally, all their games are about finding your footing, but the problem with the concept itself of the robbery is what leads to a later problem.
The characters of 5 are good, but not GREAT the way they should be. People argued that they're too shallow, only care about money, etc, as if there really needs to be some tragic story behind why the characters are the way they are. Did we forget that the game is about violent criminals? Why can't we just have Michael whose simply bored and miserable, or Trevor, who simply thrives on insanity?
Franklin is great as a concept, and what he does is great, but there's not nearly enough of it. Michael is the same, though I would argue that earlier on he gets slightly more than Franklin. Those two characters don't really get to shine properly until 2/3 of the story after Trevor comes to LS. Trevor was done perfectly. It was bad-tasted, chaotic, straight to the point, and exactly the right way to introduce him. His entire introduction in the desert is what Franklin's should have been in the hood; it should have been at least ten missions before Franklin even met Michael, and then Michael's return to thieving was too sudden as well. More characters should have been around Franklin, not just Lamar. The world-building in GTA 4 was utterly superb.
Trevor's introduction is a sudden burst of violence that plunges you headfirst into the hot landscape of his beyond-hostile world. The whole point of Trevor is that he has very valid points in just about everything he says; he's also a major hypocrite. Micahel's hipster speech is hilariously accurate; Trevor isn't really trailer trash, he chooses to live in a trailer, mostly because he doesn't value materialism and just enjoys the ride. And the way he kills Johnny in his opening scene is just perfect. Folks seem too quick to forget that these are all violent scumbags with shallow needs and wants, and not Rey Skywalker who conveniently forgets her force powers when it suits. Might I suggest for anyone who has seen The Wire, to recall a scene where a similar legendary character gets killed in the most embarrassing way imaginable, and doesn't even get a decent send-off after?
What we needed was more characters and more Simeon/hood-missions-gone-wrong missions for Franklin. Franklin gets into a massive shootout over that bike in his second mission; when has that ever happened? That should at least have been the 7th mission. That's the problem that the first robbery creates; Rockstar merely assumed that because their opening mission gets the blood pumping, we'd all be adrenaline junkies then and wouldn't be able to last without shooting anything else. Then with Michael, yeah, the introduction to his family was fine, but I would have liked more before he catches Amanda cheating. There should have been a few, slower, hilarious missions revolving around him and his family, and even the neighbour Kyle. Judging from the bar mission with Lenny in RDR2, I don't think people have a problem with slower missions, as long as they're laugh-out-loud funny. The problem with that one Yoga mission is that it's only funny after Michael and Jimmy go out. "Bullshit?! Threatening to molest your online buddies is bullshit!" Imagine missions where the DeSantas hilariously have to play happy families at various events, meanwhile, all the shit with Jimmy and the boat and Tracey with the porno guys happens, and it all culminates with Amanda sleeping with the tennis coach. Then the return to crime happens.
Everything else following the first robbery is fine; I would have liked a bigger feeling of entrapment when Michael is stuck in the desert with Trevor. The story doesn't have the intensity of 4 because it's literally not supposed to, and this is only a problem depending on what you're looking for. Devin Weston as a villain is not meant to be compelling; he's meant to be an irritating, smug prick, and a stand-in for corporate figures. Again, the story is a black comedy, with satire at its very core instead of it being merely world-dressing. After all, the Devin/Michael beef literally stems from a corporate problem that hilariously gets out of hand and causes a PA to get gruesomely killed. Stretch should have been featured more; there also should have been more phone calls between Trevor and the Chinese. The feud with the O'Neill brothers was hilarious.
What I will say, however, is that the endings were terrible, and the shift in tone for options A and B was completely misguided. Rockstar should have just stuck with the one option, which was C, or at least give us a solid reason for needing to kill Trevor or Michael, and not just the FIB or Devin Weston as a reason. I know it's great to have a choice but to have a black comedy that's hilariously loose on the crime-is-bad cliche suddenly introduce that crime-is-bad cliche is just jarring. 4 had used this cliche from the moment it even began and kept it consistent, and it was in TLAD, and in TBOGT, only in the latter DLC, Rockstar managed to justify Luis and Tony getting out of everything, though I've read that originally, you had the option of killing Gay Tony.
Anyway, here's my Ted Talk about 5. Can't wait for the downvotes.