Amalfi coast weather in december

Newport, Oregon

2015.01.19 17:16 psi4 Newport, Oregon

A community for the Newport, Oregon area.
[link]


2015.06.24 20:38 ohthatwasme National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration

This is a subreddit for the government agency named the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
[link]


2010.01.28 01:54 holypumpkinz Corvallis, Oregon

Serving the greater Corvallis, Oregon area.
[link]


2023.03.27 02:15 drink-water What is my residency?

I am a Canadian currently on a J-1 visa in the USA. I moved there in September 2021 and have lived full time in the USA since then. For 2021 I filled my taxes as a resident of Canada since I worked 8 months in Canada. However, this year I am not sure exactly what I should do. I think I am still considered a resident but obviously for tax purposes it would be nice to be a non-resident. I still have a Canadian bank account, and Quebec Health Card/Driver's license.
Where I get confused is when filling on turbo tax. It asked where I lived December 31 2022. The answer technically is USA but obviously I still have "residential" ties to Quebec (I used my friend address for mailing reasons).
Should therefore put Quebec here?
If I were to file as a non-resident, what would happen?
How can I start the process of being non-resident so I don't have to pay my additional taxes?
Is there a way through Turbo tax to state that this will be my final tax return?
submitted by drink-water to PersonalFinanceCanada [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:13 East_Property_4494 Psychology and art degrees

I'm a high school senior desperately trying to figure out what I should do after I graduate. Originally planned to move to the east coast but hey, plans change right? I heard that if I attend college at a state school I can get my tuition paid for if I keep a 3.5 GPA but I could be wrong. I want to do a dual major in psychology and art history in the hopes that I can pick one and get my undergrad stuff done before I commit to a higher-level university for my masters/doctorate. How are those programs at U of A? also, what issues should I expect at the college in general?
submitted by East_Property_4494 to UofArizona [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:12 moose_load [WTS/WTT] Marathon Automatic GSAR Watch with NSN/Government Markings Send it Sunday

This is a super cool older GSAR (manufactured in 2008) with the old style face, second hand, and second lines on face. The tritium has aged and is dull but still illuminates at a normal useable brightness compared to brand new tritium the face displays the nuclear logo. The watch is Automatic with the “US Government” markings and a was serviced by Marathon in December of 2022 invoice included. It has a a new bezel insert from Marathon and compared to my newer GSAR the older bezel clicks are much higher quality. Everything pictured is included/new rubber marathon straps, old logo marathon strap, original 2008 stainless band, and bonus watch straps. TV/SV: $850 Also posted in the watch exchange subreddit.
Trades: Eotech EXPS-3 plus cash/Aimpoint Comp M5
https://imgur.com/a/kx4pWTf
submitted by moose_load to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:12 ThereIsNoCara Little song my band and I wrote about St. Louis

Hey friends ☺️ East coast transplant here who fell in love with the city after moving out for school some years ago. I fell in love with it and I’m still in love with it today. My band just released an album with a common theme of living in the Midwest, and this song is dedicated to St. Louis. I had the idea for it while talking to my partner about how every time I come over the river from a long drive, I feel like the arch is a friend welcoming me back home. Big love and go Cardinals ❤️ West End Junction Song For St. Louis
submitted by ThereIsNoCara to StLouis [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:11 East_Property_4494 psychology and art degrees

I'm a high school senior desperately trying to figure out what I should do after I graduate. Originally planned to move to the east coast but hey, plans change right? I heard that if I attend college at a state school I can get my tuition paid for if I keep a 3.5 GPA but I could be wrong. I want to do a dual major in psychology and art history in the hopes that I can pick one and get my undergrad stuff done before I commit to a higher-level university for my masters/doctorate. How are those programs at ASU? also, what issues should I expect at the college in general?
submitted by East_Property_4494 to ASU [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:10 NotionPictureShow The Japanese Invasion of Iraq, Two Years On

The Japanese Invasion of Iraq, Two Years On submitted by NotionPictureShow to AlternateHistory [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:09 mommyatwerk Makarma sana mga katulad ni Paolo Contis

Rant lang.
4 years ko hndi pinakita sayo anak ko kasi nagcheat ka sakin and the fact you chose her (kahit tanggap ko naman na matagal na at dito po sya nakatira, opo) and yet di ka makapagprovide sakin kahit nasa US ka. Just to give you a background:
He cheated on me with his then gf (engaged na po sila). Nung nalaman ng gf na buntis ako, wala lang sakanya which is tanggap ko naman na. Pero hndi sya nagpprovide kahit nasa US sya naka base. Fast forward we met again nung time na buntis ako and we already had an agreement na ako massunod sa gusto ng baby and pumayag sya na magsustento. The next day, nagbago isip nya. Papayag lang sya magsustento kung papangalan ko sakamya anak ko. Nireject ko offer nya then blocked him. Inisip ko kaya ko naman sarili ko and I don’t need him.
Wala sya initiative to reach us out kasi naka block sya sakin, lagi lang sya nagtatanong sa friends nya ng pictures ng anak namin at kung kamusta na since I’m still friends with his neighbors.
Back in december 2022, I decided to give him 2nd chance kasi may guilt sakin na d ko pinakita sknya anak ko for years. So we met one day with our friend and our kid before he left again back to US. okay naman usapan namin, smooth at nkikipaglaro anak ko sakanya kahit d siya kilala. And asked me kung ano balak ko and willing daw sya magprovide financially. Inaccept ko offer nya pero hndi ako nagisip nun ng maayos kasi bigla sya nagtanong. What I just said that day is “pagiisipan ko pero pwde naman pagpumasok na sya sa school, for now hindi pa muna siguro”
Then I tried to reach him out 2 weeks before. Galit sya sakin agad at ayaw nya magreply sakin. Ung usapan is dpat pagpapasok na school. Pero wala naman daw sya problema magbgay funds daw anytime. Sbe ko the reason why I reached him out is to ask kung pwde mas maaga sya makapagprovide para maganda may connection nadin sila ng baby namin. Kung ano daw usapan dun daw kami magstick hahaha. Sinabi ko nalang, ako nagreach out sayo kahit hndi naman dapat kasi sya may kasalanan. Pero binigyan ko padin sya ng chance and kahit may mali sa sinabe ko, dpat pagnagreach out ako sknya, ready sya dpat anytime since it’s his responsibility din. D lang naman ako gumawa nito hahaha. Masama daw loob nya kasi d ko pinakita sakanya anak ko for 4 years at tinago ko sya sa parents ko na nagmeet kami. For sure, magagalit parents ko pagnalaman to. He should be thankful ginawan ko padin paraan kahit labag sa parents ko ito.
Magusap nalang daw kami for contribution pagokay na daw sa parents ko unh set up namin.
Anyway, I thanked him and sinabe na wla sya bayag haha. This time, alam ko sa sarili ko na gumawa pdin ako paraan and wala nako guilt this time if ever hndi ko na sya ipakita sakanya. I even said he can keep his money kasi kinaya ko naman for 4 years.
Worry ko lang, alam kaya to ng gf nya? And if she’s fully aware na ganito replies sakin ni ex. Masasabi ko lang, kawawa sya kasi she’ll end up with him na sobrang bobo magisip haha
P.S. May ichura si ex. Si gf, maganda tlaga, crush ng bayan daw sa area namin at PT po sya haha (sayang)
submitted by mommyatwerk to OffMyChestPH [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:09 Grouchy_Raccoon_6681 Fangs of Flames: Children of the Night chapter 1

Being a mind-reader is a double-edged sword.
That was something Listener knew quite well.
Sure, she had learned some interesting secrets thanks to her mind-reading, like the fact that Queen Glacier had been having an affair with Princess Blaze before she died(Blaze thought about Glacier and their time together constantly), the fact that Jerboa III had broken magic, and that her friends Firefly and Poison Oak had feelings for each other.
But she had also overheard some things that she wished she could erase from her brain.
Like the love lives of her teachers, and some of her classmates’ personal fantasies.
Listener tapped her claws on the floor, watching Webs as he droned on about geography. He was talking about how Pyrrhia had changed since the Scorching, which was incredibly boring.
“The desert formed sometime after the Scorching, as did the marshes.” Webs said.
“Everyone knows that already,” said Beetle, one of Listener’s clawmates. Beetle was thinking I’m pretty sure I could tell him the history of Pyrrhia’s geography from memory,
Webs turned around, thinking irritated thoughts. “If you want to talk, raise your talon.” He said.
“Just saying,” Beetle said, rolling her eyes. Irritable old man.
“One thing that is interesting is the Talon Peninsula,” Webs said, pulling out a map and unrolling it. “This is what Pyrrhia looked like over 2,000 years ago. Note how the Talon Peninsula was bigger back then.”
It was bigger, but had shrunk due to earthquakes. Listener had learned that from Queen Moonwatcher’s thoughts. It was also the only part of Pyrrhia’s coast to change in all those thousands of years, which was interesting.
Also, Listener had a theory on what caused it to shrink, but she was pretty sure Webs wouldn’t want to hear it, so she thought it at her friends.
I’m pretty sure the amount of spells cast on the land, like the spell on Darkstalker’s Teeth, caused the land to shrink.
That might be true. Gill thought, scratching his neck.
Listener could also do something that no other mind-reader could do: she could project her thoughts into other dragons’ heads.
Her father, Starflight, thought that it was because she hatched under a blood moon. It was probably true, considering how rare blood moons were.
“Why only the Talon Peninsula has shrunk is a mystery to dragons today.” Webs said.
“I know why it shrunk!” Poison Oak exclaimed. The LeafWing had a mischievous grin on her face, and Listener could hear what she was about to say in her head.
“It shrunk so it wouldn’t have to listen to your stupid voice!” Poison Oak said. Webs glared at her, while the rest of the class burst out laughing.
“Class dismissed.” Webs said.
Listener smiled, mostly because Webs was thinking, My voice isn’t stupid!
submitted by Grouchy_Raccoon_6681 to WingsOfFire [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:08 NotionPictureShow The Japanese Invasion of Iraq, Two Years On

The Japanese Invasion of Iraq, Two Years On submitted by NotionPictureShow to imaginarymaps [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:08 Fuego-TACO My daughters new cat is terrorizing my first cat

Back in December my daughter wanted a cat after my old cat died a few years before and she was attached and still sad. We got a sweet little girl that I was told was found on the streets and suspected she lived on the streets for a few years. We did everything right as far as I can tell. Not letting them meet for about a month and moving them around the house into different rooms and shared rooms. Then limited contact and only supervised.
But it became clear early on our new cat was a stalking nightmare and would sneak through the door to get at the old cat and the fights were pretty bad. Last week my cat had a scratch on her head so I treated and cleaned it. Guess it became infected. Yesterday we did a check on her and her wound had filled with puss and hair had fallen out. We took her to the vet and she’s on what she needs to get better, but my question is will this ever end or at least become neutral towards each other. I know it can take a long time to get used to each other but my older cat is scared shitless of the new one.
The thing is when on her own. The new cat is the sweetest thing and plays with my dog and has zero aggression. But I’m not sure she was every socialized with other cats so it may never get better. I don’t want to return her to the shelter but it’s not fair to my other cat and she may need a home without cats
submitted by Fuego-TACO to CatAdvice [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:08 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Gameplay Mechanics: What New Features Could Be Introduced?

With each new installment in the Grand Theft Auto series, Rockstar Games has introduced new gameplay mechanics to keep the franchise fresh and exciting. Here are some possible new features that could be introduced in GTA 6:
Enhanced AI: One of the biggest criticisms of the previous games is that the AI is often too predictable. In GTA 6, we could see more advanced AI that reacts to the player's actions in a more realistic way.
More realistic physics: The physics engine in GTA 5 was already impressive, but there is always room for improvement. We could see more realistic physics in GTA 6 that affect both the player and the environment.
More dynamic weather: GTA 5 had some dynamic weather effects, but they were fairly limited. In GTA 6, we could see a more dynamic weather system that affects the gameplay in more meaningful ways.
Seamless transitions: In previous games, there was often a loading screen when transitioning from one area to another. In GTA 6, we could see more seamless transitions between different areas of the game world.
New minigames: GTA 5 had a variety of fun minigames, such as tennis and golf, but there is always room for more. We could see new minigames in GTA 6 that are even more varied and engaging.
Improved driving mechanics: While the driving mechanics in GTA 5 were already pretty solid, there is always room for improvement. In GTA 6, we could see more realistic driving physics and more customizable vehicles.
Better stealth mechanics: Stealth has never been a strong point of the GTA series, but that could change with GTA 6. We could see more advanced stealth mechanics that allow players to approach missions in different ways.
Dynamic NPC behavior: In previous games, NPCs often had set patterns of behavior that could be easily predicted. In GTA 6, we could see more dynamic NPC behavior that makes the game world feel more alive.
More varied missions: While GTA 5 had a wide variety of missions, some players felt that they were too similar to each other. In GTA 6, we could see even more varied missions that keep the gameplay fresh and exciting.
VR support: With the increasing popularity of virtual reality, it's possible that GTA 6 could include support for VR headsets. This would allow players to fully immerse themselves in the game world and experience it in a whole new way.
GTA 5 Modder 👑 Buy gta 5 accounts http://Furymodz.com // Fortnite // GTA 5 Accounts, Mods 💎 Creator on Patreon: http://patreon.com/furymodz 🎪
submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5moddedoutfits_ [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:08 nilgaiisnotacow Tips on Kovalam?

My family and I will be visiting Kovalam in April and I was wondering what are some activities we could try out or places we could explore/visit while there? It’s a short trip, 3/4 days. Also what kind of weather should we anticipate? Thanks in advance !
submitted by nilgaiisnotacow to india_tourism [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:07 Trash_Tia I've been talking to the boy next door through my bedroom window for a while. His latest messages are freaking me out.

I want to talk to you about the boy next door.
I first noticed him when we arrived here. Mom was moving in all of our boxes and furniture, and I was sitting on one of mom’s boxes labelled “fragile” downing ice-cold lemonade.
It wasn’t exactly the weather for cold drinks, but I was pooped after spending my morning and half of my afternoon going back and forth with all of our stuff. It was just a glimpse.
One of the movers asked me to help him with a box of kitchen equipment. I was struggling to get a proper grip of it, twisting around to shout that I needed help—when I saw him.
Not much of a person, more of a shadow poking from behind the fence. What I could make out was a tallish figure and mousey hair.
I lifted my hand in a greeting, but the guy walked away. I didn’t think much of it.
Maybe he was shy.
Though I was curious about my neighbors. I was expecting them to join the parade of families on our doorstep harbouring every food you can imagine, but they stayed away. I did know a family existed next door, however. There was a large wooden fence separating us. So, if I really wanted to talk to them I’d either have to grow several feet taller or invest in stilts. I’m not sure why I was so obsessed with meeting them.
I knew they had kids my age. I could hear them.
Whether they were arguing over video games, or laughing at something trivial, I could always hear them when I was sitting on our wooden porch or helping mom clean our yard.
According to mom, who heard it from the nice lady across the street, our neighbors were called the Wilders.
There was a single mom, and her four teenage kids.
Huh, I thought. So the mystery shadow guy must have been a Wilder kid.
I was told to not get too excited, though. Apparently, Mrs Wilder was very protective over her children and home-schooled them.
So, there was no chance of me making friends or even getting to know them. On our second day in our new home, mom told me over breakfast that Mrs Wilder had sent out a polite notice to the neighbourhood that her children were not to be disturbed or talked to. Which was crazy. I thought that was weird. But mom understood it—and to my annoyance, accepted the woman’s notice. I was warned not to talk to the Wilder children.
And if I did, that was an automatic week grounding. Which meant no diner, no seeing friends after school, and my phone privileges taken away. According to her, she figured they were just a private family and wanted to accept that. She theorised the kids had been bullied at public school and had to be home-schooled. But I was sceptical. “All of them?” I’d asked her through a mouthful of cereal.
“Phoebe.” Mom sent me a warning look, sipping her coffee. “What we’re going to do is respect Mrs Wilder’s wishes.”
“It’s child abuse.” I muttered into my frosted flakes. Only for mom to reach across the table and poke me with the prongs of her fork.
“Ow!”
“Don’t play with your food.”
“I’m not playing with my food.” I held up a spoonful of soggy cereal. “You just never get the chocolate brand. These taste like sandpaper.”
“We are going to be respectable neighbors,” mom said, ignoring me. “So, you are not going to speak to those kids. Do you understand?”
I knew mom only wanted to abide by the weird rules because she was obsessed with joining the mom’s club, or whatever they were called, but it didn’t make sense to me that his woman wasn’t letting her own kids have a social life.
At a younger age, maybe eleven or twelve, I could understand. But seventeen? That was almost college age. What, was she expecting to coddle them forever?
Did she really think these kids were going to stay with her? Seventeen was the age of finding first loves and making mistakes. Not staying at home with mommy dearest. “Okay, but would you do this to me?” I asked her. “Would you really lock me up and stop me from going outside and living my life?”
Mom had been spreading butter on bread. I didn’t realise her mood had drastically changed until she was almost slicing her finger with the knife. “You don’t know this yet because you are far too young,” she lifted her head, her lips curving into a smile. “But there is something called a mother’s instinct. When our children are born, we are overcome with an almost… feral need to protect them from danger. If you look it up, it is present is every creature. Every mother. Our children are worth more than ourselves. We give our own lives to keep them alive. You can roll your eyes and say it’s stupid, but I’m sure as soon as you have your own child, you will feel the exact same with them.”
She nodded at me. “I had that with you. I… I still have it with you, Phoebe. No matter how old you are. When you were a baby, I wanted to hold you in my arms every second of every day. I hated it when people wanted to hold you, and you were such a clingy baby. Always cradled to my chest. As you grew up, I started to understand that you were seeing the world for the first time and you needed your own time and space. I let you take your first steps on your own. I cried when you said your first word—and when I grabbed your hand and raced down the kindergarten steps for the first time. Letting you go was painful. And if I had a choice in the matter? Yes, I would keep you in here. I would stop you from going outside and seeing this world.” She dropped the knife with a startling, metallic clang, before picking it back up.
“Because this planet is a scary place, Phoebe. And as mother’s, it is our job to keep our kids safe. Even if that means going to the slightest of extremes.”
“Slightest of extremes?” I scoffed, despite knowing I was being pedantic. “They have to fly the nest! That’s called growing up!”
Ignoring her glare, I continued.
“Yes, I believe in mother’s instinct. But at what point do you have to look at yourself and realise you’re being ridiculous? Seventeen year olds aren’t infants. They won’t just blindly walk into traffic. They have self-awareness of what is wrong and right.”
I pointed at myself. “You let me drive, right? I got my license. Where was your ‘mother instinct’ when I got myself a big-girl vehicle I could easily have an accident in?”
Mom curled her lip. “Don’t push it.”
Leaning across the table, I fixed her with a smile. “See? You trust me, mom. You let me grow up. That’s the difference between you and Mrs Wilder. Kids have to grow up. No matter what the circumstances are. It’s just part of being human. We all grow up and leave our parents.”
I sent her a look, stirring the soggy soup of my cereal. “Well. Unless you’re Mrs Wilder.”
Mom finished her coffee and stood up. “You don’t even know these children. They could be in any stage of development which makes them very different to you. All kids mentally age at different points.”
She took her plate to the faucet and dumped it in the bowl. Mom washed the dishes when she was angry or stressed, and she was really going to town on our brand new pattern plates. I saw that as a mark of finality. “I’m done talking about this, okay? You’re not eighteen yet which means you abide by my rules, and really, Phoebe, I’m not exactly holding you prisoner. I’m just asking you to be polite and follow a simple rule which is not hard. We are a new family, and we need to make a good impression. Which means no talking to Mrs Wilder’s children.” She cleared her throat.
“Respect our neighbour’s wishes or lose your phone.”
Ducking my head, I continued to stir my cereal into a mushy soup which had quickly become unappetising. It looked like barf. I pushed it away. “You only want me to follow the rules so you can get into Mrs Becker’s book club and go on Pilate dates with middle aged Karen’s.”
Mom dropped a plate in the sink, and the sound of the splash made me flinch slightly.
“Is that understood?”
“Yes.” I said, rolling my eyes. “Obviously, I will abide by this street’s draconian rules so I can continue scrolling through Tik-Tok.”
It was sarcasm, but I wasn’t sure my mother could detect it. She was so blinded by becoming one with our neighbors.
Why was she so obsessed with meeting all the other mom’s anyway?
Was she planning on setting me up on a playdate with 3 year old Evie? I wouldn’t put it past her doing that for the brownie points.
“Good. End of conversation.” Mom said, hurrying to get her jacket and bag. “I’m late for work, and you have an induction to get to.”
I wanted to argue further because this sounded unfair. The kids were teenagers, right? How were they not arguing against this? It seemed insane that they were going along with what their mother said. But I was aware of significant punishment if I broke this rule. So, I begrudgingly agreed. After my induction, I asked around new friends and classmates if anybody knew of the Wilder kids, and they did.
But they didn’t want to elaborate on what they knew. I heard a lot of rumours with dead ends. Most of them involved a father who had walked out on them, and their mother going into ultra-protective mode in response. It sounded like these kids were bearing the brunt of a messy divorce. They were complete enigma’s.
I didn’t know anything about them except from their insanely overprotective mother’s wicked grip on them. I gave up being curious. Mom was serious about me not speaking not them. She gave me a lecture on respecting the woman’s privacy, and blah, blah, blah. I tuned out after five minutes, my attention flicking to an episode of Breaking Bad playing on the lounge TV.
The next few weeks were boring. Mom was invited to join Mrs Beck’s book club, so on Monday’s at 5PM, I made myself scarce. I did exactly what mom said. I ignored the kids next door. My bedroom happened to be facing the room of one of the kids, but their dark blue curtains were always shut. Sometimes it was hard. When I was sitting in the yard, reading a book, I could hear them on the other side of the fence.
The boys were the most vocal, laughing and teasing each other. There was a point when I risked it. I jumped to my feet and got halfway across the expanse of grass, standing on the tips of my toes and trying to catch a peek. But mom was calling me inside. I swore she had eyes in the back of my head. Mom always knew when I was outside. When I was near the fence.
It wasn’t until a month had gone by when I finally got a glimpse of a Wilder kid. I had just gotten back from school. I’d dumped my backpack on my bed and grabbed my phone, slumping onto my bed to text my friends and mindlessly scroll through social media. I noticed movement at the corner of my eye, and when I’d lifted my head, blinking rapidly—those same blue curtains which had shut me out for what felt so long—they were open. Not just that.
I could see a bedroom smothered in personality. I glimpsed a hardwood desk strewn with paper and an expensive laptop, a blue bedspread, a beaten up guitar leaning against light green walls covered in old-school movie posters.
There were screwed up pieces of paper everywhere. I had to guess he was some kind of artist. The room was illuminated in the evening dim, a soft warm light bringing the room to life. A knock startled me, and my gaze flicked to the window.
There he was. The Wilder boy next door.
He was my age, maybe even older. This guy looked almost college aged. Which made it increasingly weirder that his mother would insist on babying him at the age of seventeen.
He was cute. The dorky kind of cute. He wore bulky glasses but was the type to instantly suit pretty much anything. If I could compare him to anyone, it would be the mental image in my head that my younger self had imagined Percy Jackson when I reads the books.
The guy looked comfortable in a sweater and jeans, mousey brown hair hanging in warm eyes. There was an inquisitive smile on his lips. I jumped up to open my window to speak to him, but he shook his head—and I quickly remembered his mother’s stupid rule which forbid us from talking. So, I got creative.
Give me a moment! I mouthed.
I expected him to ignore me and go back to what he was doing, but the guy straightened up and nodded, arching a brow.
He was intrigued.
I grabbed an old notebook and a pen and sat on my bed, scribbling a message. I wrote: “Hello! So, you’re the kid under house arrest lmao.”
When I held it up, his smile pricked. He laughed. But I couldn’t hear it. I could tell he had a dorky kind of laugh, a nasally one. The guy held up a hand for me to wait and rummaged on his desk. He quickly wrote out a message and held it up with a grin. He looked almost proud of his own message, and I couldn’t resist my own smile. I expected him to curse his mother, maybe apologise for the lack of communication.
But instead, he simply wrote: “Hello! What’s your name?” Followed by a slightly smudged smiley.
After a moment of consideration, mom’s words echoing in my mind, I thought fuck it. “Phoebe.” I said. “Yours?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Phoebe.” He responded. Which spanned multiple conversations which took up several of my notepads.
We talked about everything from school to his life at home. He had three siblings. Matilda, Freddie, and Issac. He liked to play the guitar and draw, but also apparently sucked at both. When I asked what his favourite TV show was, he looked confused for a moment before answering “All of them”. Following that odd answer, I asked if he liked Marvel, and again, he had that look again. A look of confusion.
But I knew he was trying to make a good impression. “What is Marvel?” He wrote back, this time his handwriting in a bubbly font. I could almost call his writing calligraphy. It practically danced off of the page. The Wilder boy’s strange answers made wonder if this kid had been home-schooled his whole life. He seemed way too polite. Kids were polite, sure.
There was a certain amount of respect you had to pay to your elders and parents.
But looking at this kid, I wasn’t even sure he knew what a meme was—or even the concept of a joke. He had no idea about one of the biggest movie franchise in the world, and his favourite celebrity was apparently “All of them”. In fact, he had answered “All of them” to several of my questions. His messages reminded me of my grandma’s. Still though, he was good company. Though I made it my mission to convert him into a normal teenager.
I had to guess due to constantly being home and around the same people, this kid had zero social skills. I asked him what his favourite movie was, out of the posters on the wall. He had Kill Bill, Reservoir Dogs, and Fight Club.
Again, he looked confused. His head cocked to the side, and I had to physically point to them behind him.
“All of them.” He wrote back with a smiley face.
Damn, this kid needed to see a movie which wasn’t some educational shit. I bet his mother had turned him into perfect member of society.
“What have you seen?” I couldn’t help asking him. “Like, movies, TV shows. Do you play video games?”
He shook his head before scribbling back. “What is that?”
Holy shit, this kid was completely cut off from the outside world.
I was already mentally thinking up plans to get him out of the house and to a party, or something like that. From the look of this kids face—a slightly blank if not completely innocent smile—he needed time away from home. Away from his overprotective mother’s wicked grasp.
After a while, I realised he never told me his name. I didn’t notice time go by. Almost three hours, and I’d spent most of it lecturing him on movies and TV shows he really should have known. I guessed Mrs Wilder didn’t let him watch the TV. My gaze flicked to his laptop. And I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had blocked out all social media. My notepad was full of scribbles and doodles, an attempt at copying his handwriting style. The sky was blooming into twilight outside, thick orange and cotton candy pink streaking the horizon. I have always loved a pre-twilight sky.
“What’s your name?” I wrote in marker pen, before holding up my notepad. I was running out of paper. I could hear mom downstairs preparing dinner, and I could tell from his diminishing smile Mrs Wilder was probably shouting for him to go downstairs.
He didn’t reply for a while. I watched him put the pad down, before heading over to his desk and cleaning up the paper—every trace we had been talking and dumping each response he’d given in the trash. Before he slumped onto his bed, wrote something down in several strokes, before holding it up for me to see. “Casper.” He’d written. “My name is Casper Wilder.”
For a moment, his expression changed completely. He glanced at the door, before frowning at the pad of paper in his lap.
It looked like he wanted to write more, before twisting around, his eyes widening. Someone was coming. I could tell by the look on his face.
The knot between his brows.
Casper gathered everything he’d been using to write to me, pens and pencils, scraps of paper and the backs of movie posters, and shoving them under his bed. Then he grabbed the curtains and pulled them closed, blocking me out once again. I thought he’d come back, but after standing like an idiot with an odd feeling in my gut, frowning at his curtains, I realised he was finished talking to me for the night. What I expected was that to be it. I didn’t think he’d come back. The next morning, however, he was back at his window, smiling at me through a mouthful of toothpaste. He was still in his pyjamas, unbrushed curls falling in sleepy eyes.
He looked strange without his glasses. Like his face was too bare. The more I took him in, though. Something was… different. Though I couldn’t make it out. It hit me then.
Casper wasn’t moving, staying in the same position. The night before, he had gone to and from his bed, hurrying around to grab equipment to write with. But now he was stood, looking more shadow than human. I was quick to dive for my notepad, but Casper was already holding up his own greeting with a grin. “Good morning, Phoebe! How are you feeling today?”
“Tired.” I wrote back, my writing barely comprehensible. “Do you have school?”
“YES.” He responded with an excited smile. “I’m so excited to learn! Do you have a favourite class?”
I laughed at that. And after looking confused, he copied my laugh. Which made me laugh harder.
“None of them!” I scribbled back. “School is boring!”
Casper shrugged. “I like it. I have a great tutor.”
“Really?” This time, I drew an attempt at the rolling eyes emoji. “You shouldn’t be excited for school. Weirdo.”
He curled his lip. “You’re the weirdo.” He wrote back. Casper paused, chewing on the lid of the pen, before writing, “What’s a weirdo?”
“You’re kidding!” This time, with too much vigour, I pointed to him with a laugh. “You! You’re the weirdo!”
We talked as I got ready for school, gathering all my books and homework. I was stuffing my gym clothes in my bag, when I noticed something was on the ground behind Casper. Looking closer, it looked like a chord. Like a long cable sort of thing. I thought it was for a games console, but then I remembered he had no idea what a video game was. I didn’t question what it was for a while. We talked every night, about everything and nothing.
I told Casper about school and friends, filling up every piece of paper we had in the house, and he told me about his siblings. They were all the same age, and all enjoyed school. His brother was a piano prodigy, while his sister’s strongest subjects were math. Casper told me he felt like the odd one out being the artist of the family, and I quickly told him that creativity was the best part of a person.
He showed me his drawings. And to my confusion, and slight disgust, they were all of his mother. They were good—sure. His skills were Ivy League worthy. Perfect shading. Everything about the drawings were perfect.
But the fact that his muse was his mother—it put a weird taste in my mouth. He showed me each drawing, his smile widening with excitement. While I nodded and pretended to be impressed. Well, I was.
Though it became startlingly obvious that Casper didn’t have a choice who he drew. He didn’t draw fruit or landscapes, or even the sky. We live in a picturesque town, the perfect canvas for an artist. However, Mrs Wilder was at the centre of every single fucking drawing and painting, ink blot. Even with different styles and angles, she was always there. And Casper Wilder saw no wrong in it. He saw absolutely no fucking wrong in this woman taking control of every aspect of his life. His social life, his friends, education and hobbies.
I half expected him to grab his guitar and start singing about her through the glass. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was driving me crazy. We continued to talk through writing to each other, but soon enough the only subject was his mother. Casper asked me if I could rate a drawing he was working on. It was her. Of course it was. I ignored him, getting to my feet and holding up the sign I had written weeks before. But I was too scared to show him.
I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I had to know. I had to know several things which had been keeping me up all night
“Why are you okay with your mother controlling your life?” I asked in bold letters.
And below that: “Also… I’ve been wondering this for a while. But what is that thing behind you?”
The thing behind him was at the centre of my thoughts. I’d worked out it wasn’t a chord for a TV or a games console. Not even a laptop, or for his guitar. Not to mention it was always there. Morning and evening, even at night when I spied him getting ready for bed. This thing was always on the floor, snaked across his bed. Sometimes it was even wrapped up on his desk. I couldn’t understand the length of it. I asked friends at school, and even the internet. But my descriptions didn’t do it justice. A long, silver chord like thing which didn’t have an end.
Casper blinked at my message. Before he ducked his head and started writing before holding up his response.
“I love my mom.” He said, doodling a little heart. “She doesn’t control my life. I like that she’s in it.”
Below that, a follow up message which twisted my gut. “What do you mean? I don’t see anything, Phoebe.”
Tapping my pad with my pen, I struggled to think of a response. There was no way he couldn’t see this thing. It was pretty hard to miss. Instead of writing, I pointed behind him.
“That!” I mouthed, using my lips for the first time. It felt good to actually talk to him. Even if a window of glass separated us.
“What?” His handwriting was slipping slightly. And I noticed his hands were visibly shaking. “What can you see, Phoebe?”
This time, he stood up. I noticed something change in him, the notepad slipping off his knee. Casper turned around, scanning the room.
Before his eyes finally found the cord-thing. His smile seemed to dampen, eyes going wide, fists clenching.
“Casper?” I hurriedly wrote when he didn’t move for a while. His gaze was glued to the chord. I watched his eye follow it around the room, before his hand slowly raised, trembling fingers moving to his neck, and then the back of his head. Was there an insect? That’s what I thought. It must have been a spider, or some kind of bug which had startled him. I could only describe his expression as close to catatonic. He stood up, but then quickly slumped back down. But not like it was his choice. As if he was being dragged back down by an unseen force. Like one minute I was looking at Casper Wilder, and then I was seeing a stranger. A completely different person take over a rapidly paling face. Something snapped inside my gut when he moved forwards suddenly, his arms lunging out to close the curtains.
But that wasn’t the end of what I saw. The boy had unknowingly left a splinter, a tiny gap allowing me to glimpse. I expected him to react to whatever had freaked him out. But instead, he simply flopped back onto his bed. This time, I noticed the silver chord jolt with his movement. He was already asleep, his eyes closed. I watched him, my heart diving into my throat. There was no way he just fell asleep like that. It was too fast.
Mrs Wilder came into his room soon after. But I only got a glimpse of her because she was already striding over to the window. I ducked behind my bed, panic creeping up my spine. I expected the woman to start yelling at me through the window, but instead she simply pulled the curtains properly shut. Mrs Wilder definitely saw me. And even if she didn’t, Casper’s messages to me were still piled on his bedsheets. I was left completely in the dark, then. I stood and pressed my face against the window, fully aware that I was addicted to the mystery surrounding my neighbour.
My mind began to wonder to uncertain and scary places.
What exactly was Casper’s mother doing to him behind the curtain? I wanted to believe she was simply tucking him in and saying goodnight, but the strange chord-like thing on the ground, and how he’d reacted to noticing it—for what seemed like the first time. His change in expression, like a different person had taken over him, and that person was… scared.
Catatonic. I refused to believe Mrs Wilder was innocent. I waited for him to draw his curtains again—but he didn’t. Casper’s window stayed completely blocked for days. I stopped hearing his siblings in the yard, and after days of nothing, mom reiterated her warning to me over dinner. “No communication with the Wilder children,” she told me. “Which includes notes and letters.”
Busted.
So, Mrs Wilder knew we were talking.
I wondered if she was punishing her son for breaking the rules—and that was why he had been MIA for the last few days.
“There’s something wrong with Casper.” I worked up the courage to tell mom “The boy next door. I think Mrs Wilder is hurting him.”
“Hurting him?”
“Yeah, like…” I frowned. “I think she can make him go to sleep when she wants.” I pulled a face. “Like, hypnotism—or maybe even drugs.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Drugs, mom.” I said. “Mrs Wilder is drugging her seventeen year old son!”
“That’s nice, honey.”
“Are you even listening to me?” I leaned across the table, stabbing the page of her book. “Mom! Casper Wilder is a total blank slate!”
“I’ve told you a thousand times. She’s protecting them,” she hummed. “You have just seen far too many crime dramas—and your generation have been poisoned by the likes of crime entrainment. Finding what you think is your own mystery must be fun, but you are reaching, baby.”
“Reaching?” I prodded my own temple. “I’m sorry, were you not listening when I told you he doesn’t even know what video games are?”
Mom was acting weird. Usually, she talked about school with me, and at least tried to engage in conversation, but she was too busy reading the book Mrs Becker has recommended her. It was like talking to a brick.
“You’re being ridiculous, Phoebe,” she turned over a page with a sigh. “I’ve spoken to his mother. She’s a lovely woman. We’re having lunch next week. I met her in the grocery store."
“What a coincidence,” I shot her a look over my phone. I was looking up child abuse helplines. “You’re suddenly best friends with the neighborhood witch when I’m caught talking to her son.” Dropping my phone for emphasis, I stood up. “If you would just listen to me—"
“That’s enough.” Mom cut me off. She finished her coffee, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over a chair. “Stay out of trouble, okay? I’m heading back to work. I’ve left cash if you want to order pizza. You have other interests, alright? Please. Leave Mrs Wilder alone. This obsession you have with her kids is unhealthy. Why don't you stick to fiction, hm?"
Yeah, no.
As soon as she was gone, I sprinted to my room to see if Casper’s curtains were open. To my dismay, though. They weren’t.
Frustrated, I yanked mine shut too.
Slumping onto my bed, I continued looking up helplines. I got bored soon after and started googling chords and wires which fit the description of what I’d seen.
There was a match, though it was on a weird medical website which looked like it had been made in 2005. The interface was outdated, and according to the description, it was some kind of clamping device. There were a lot of words I didn’t know, and after further googling, I was getting increasingly more confused. Until my gaze flicked to a section at the bottom of the page. According to whoever wrote it, the chord in question was experimental. There weren’t many in circulation, but it was mainly used in medical centres such as specialist surgeries and hospitals. When I scrolled down, there was a diagram which showed a long chord-like thing labelled as “The body” and a sharp looking needle. Something warm crept up my throat and I sat up, frowning at the screen. Was that it? Was that thing the end?
And what did this thing even connect to?
A sudden THUD made me almost jump out of my skin. I slid off my bed.
THUD.
It was coming from my window. My curtains were still shut, blowing in the slight breeze. Slowly, I made my way over, my spine tingling.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The first thing I saw was red. Bright, intense scarlet spattering the Wilder boy's window. Then I glimpsed Casper. He was slamming his face into the glass, over and over again, his already bleeding nose exploding with more red. But it wasn't the boy I knew. The kid I had gotten to know over the last few months. No. This kid was a mess of torn up clothes, bruises yellowing his eyes and scratches sliced into his flesh. My first thought was his mom. She must have done this to him. But then my gaze was finding his bloodied nails, and claw marks on his arms and cheeks. There was something white wrapped around his head, a bandage.
I could glimpse red leaking through, smudging clinical white and pooling down his temples in sharp rivulets. Casper's eyes were an enigma in themselves, a mixture of fear and confusion, and almost feral look of anger and frustration. But the twitch in his lip and between his brow, was evident that something was fighting that.
Emotions and feelings he wasn't feeling himself.
It was like looking at two different guys. One was Casper, the artist who lived next door, who ended every message with a smiley. While this twisted other self, a self which was broken out and was feral in his expression, was a whole other person. I started to realise the more I looked at him, at the mess of flesh and blood caught between his nails, and his trembling hands every so often creeping to the back of his skull before jolting and coming back to curl into fists, battering the window--- he had clawed into his own head.
Immediately, I reached for my phone. But he already knew what I was going to do.
“No!” He mouthed, shaking his head—so I grabbed my notepad. I could barely write.
“What’s going on?” I held up my pad. “Are you okay? You’re fucking bleeding!”
Instead of using a pen and paper, Casper squinted, blinking rapidly. His handwriting was different, a manic scrawl, as he wrote in the explosion of blood on the window.
When he twisted around, his gaze going to the door, the breath caught in my throat. Someone was yelling his name. I could tell by his reaction. His bloodied fingers clawed at his face and hair, at bald patches and rugged stitches lining his scalp and the back of his skull. They kept going, a narrow line of stitches all the way down his neck, and presumably his spine.
My thoughts flashed back to the equipment I’d been looking up. This kind of thing was designed to bury into the brain and spinal cord. I looked for it, but the thing was nowhere to be seen on him. It was no longer on the floor. Casper struggled to write coherently. I notice he kept swearing, his finger smudging the words he was trying to write. This was more like it, I thought. This was the kind of boy I had expected to be the kid next door. “Fuck.” He shook his head, his movements erratic as one hand went to the back of his head and came back slick with glistening red.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
He slammed his fists into the window in frustration, but I was already seeing his message start to blossom and make sense.
“WHO.”
Casper was crying. I could see that he could barely breathe, struggling to inhale, swiping at his eyes with smudged fists.
“AM.”
“I?”
I started to back away, but he continued. When he’d finished, he wrote it again and again, growing more and more fraught.
I jumped when he slammed his head into the glass of the window again. At first a part of me thought he was using his blood for paint.
So he was intentionally hurting himself to draw more.
But his words spelled it out for me in black and white.
Who am I? He wrote. WHO AM I? WHO AM I WHO AM I? WHO AM I?
This time I could barely even read my own handwriting. I held up a scrap of paper.
“DID YOUR MOM HURT YOU?”
I gestured to the bandage on his head, and he stumbled back, wild eyes searching for something to write with.
“THAT WOMAN.” He scribbled in block capitals.
“THAT WOMAN IS NOT MY FUCKING MOM.” He wrote, before he dropped to his knees. He was still writing but failing to show me.
I don’t know who I am.
He wrote the same thing 12 times, before tearing up the paper and burying his head in his lap.
I gave up writing messages.
“Casper!” I shouted.
Then I threw a rock at his window, and he lifted his head, blinking rapidly.
Gesturing for him to open up his window, he struggled with the latch for a moment before pulling it open.
I stuck my head out of my own window, cold air hitting me in the face. “I’m going to help you.” I managed to choke out. “Hold on, okay?”
Casper clawed at his face. "Help me." His voice was a sharp hiss. "Please help me. I don't know who I..." His fingernails ripped into the flesh of his cheeks, but he barely seemed to feel it, to be fazed. They kept going, digging into layer after layer. "I don't know who I am." He jumped up suddenly trashing his desk and throwing his laptop against the wall. He reminded me of a child having a tantrum. In this case though, it was more than acting out. I was sure that Casper Wilder didn’t exist. "I don't know who I am. I don't know... fuck... I don't know who I am!”
His eyes found mine, and I could have sworn I saw something there, buried deep, deep inside his pupil.
He blinked, and it was gone.
“You need to tell me what she’s done to you.” I said stiffly. “Tell me what she’s done to your head.”
Casper was only growing progressively more frenzied. Animalistic. He came back to the window, slamming his fists into it. Then his head. Again and again. Like he was trying to knock himself out. "Help me. I can't remember... I can't remember who I am. I just know.. I know her.”
His lips suddenly twisted into a startling grin.
“Mom.” He whispered, his expression softening. “My mom.” His gaze flicked to the desk. “She won’t like that I’ve… I’ve made a mess.”
“Your mom did this.” I gritted out. “I’m calling the cops.”
His expression was scaring me. Whatever was in his eye was scaring me. But this boy needed help. He needed to be taken out of that house.
"No." Casper sobered up. "No, my mom... my mommy said... she said no police." His eyes widened suddenly, seemingly noticing the mess of the window for the first time. “Oh, no.” Casper stumbled back. “I should… I should clean this. Before my mom sees what a mess I made.”
His door opened, and another head poked through.
Another guy. I figured it was one of his brothers. Freddie, or Issac. He too had a bandage wrapped around his head.
His brother’s eyes found the blood spatters, and then me. Like his mother, he strode over to the window, shutting the curtains.
But I could still hear it.
A mechanical whirring noise, followed by Casper’s sharp breath and the sickly crunch of metal protruding through blood and bone.
That was it.
“Mom!” I yelled. I’d heard her come back earlier. She must have finished work early.
I stumbled downstairs to tell her to call the cops, but a shadow was already looming behind the corner. Before I knew what was happening, a wet rag stinking of pool cleaner was being pressed over my mouth and nose.
I don’t remember passing out. When I woke up, I was lying on my mom’s couch. It was dark outside, but the curtains were open. My foggy thoughts drunk in slithers of moon poking from between the clouds before registering I wasn’t alone. Sitting up, my stomach galloped. There was no sign of mom. But I recognised each of the faces surrounding me. Mrs Becker was sitting with her legs crossed, delicately sipping from a cup. And next to her, wearing a smug smile, was Mrs Wilder. She wasn’t looking at me. Instead, her eyes were lovingly glued to something which had been built over mom’s coffee table. It was made completely out of paper. The scraps of paper I had been using to talk to her son. Though there weren’t just my messages. I glimpsed Casper’s writing too. It was a house. I was staring at a perfect paper rendition of the Wilder house. And next to it stood four little paper dolls.
There were no faces. No expressions. Just four dolls. Two boys, and two girls.
Though in her lap were more. Mrs Wilder’s nimble fingers were working to make more of them. They filled her lap differing in sizes.
“Phoebe, is it?”
Her voice was smooth like chocolate. I could almost mistake it for kindness.
I nodded, my heart in my throat. I was watching her create another doll. She folded a piece of paper in half, cut it in two, and started to fold sections, bringing the doll-form to life. This one, unlike the other, did have attention put into it. She had even added the birth mark on my right temple, following that, colouring in my dark blonde hair, and finishing with my jean jacket. Mrs Wilder didn’t have to spell it out for me. When she got to the doll’s head, she shocked me, by tearing it off. Then she ripped off its arms and legs and tearing its torso in half.
Mrs Wilder straightened up. “Phoebe, are you aware of a mother’s instinct?”
I couldn’t reply. Instead, I was staring at the paper-doll she had set alight. I watched smouldering orange rip into it, before she put the fire out, dropping the blackened paper doll on the carpet. For just a brief second, I could have sworn the hem of my jacket had also caught alight. Just a single flash of orange. But maybe I was seeing things. “I was pregnant with four beautiful children,” she said softly. “As soon as I found out, I had already named them.” Her smile was dreamy. Melancholic. “Freddie. My little Freddie. He kicked quite a lot. Oh, and Matilda. She and her twin were quite the pair, I must say. Swiftly draining me of my energy so I had to take medication.” Mrs Wilder chuckled.
“And finally, Casper. Named after my favourite movie. I loved him with all of my heart. He was my little fighter.” She quickly lost her smile, her gaze flicking to me. “I hope you understand that if you talk to, or even the breathe the same air as my children again, I will rip you apart too.”
Mrs Wilder never raised her voice. She didn’t need to. I was terrified of her.
She held up my doll for emphasis, before throwing it in the paper dollhouse. “Or… perhaps you could become another daughter of mine, hmm?” I couldn’t move, my body paralysed when she leaned over me, cruel eyes drinking me in. “Maybe not.” She hummed. “I only take the dead or dying.” Straightening up, she sighed. “It’s not a hard task, Phoebe. Keep away from my children and I will keep away from you.”
The two of them left after that, leaving me unable to move. To breathe. They took the dollhouse. All of the paper. Even my own doll.
Casper has been unreachable since. Mom has hardly been at home—and I’m starting to lose my mind.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who or what Mrs Wilder is, but I’m afraid she’s going to keep adding to her collection.
Whoever those kids are, they’re not hers. I think she’s taken them. She’s using them as canvases. Dolls. For what she’s lost.
Am I next?
submitted by Trash_Tia to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:07 DrSnap23 Death sentences / Myrdun, the Grim Chopper (Daily Commander #925)

submitted by DrSnap23 to custommagic [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:06 redlampshades How do I 25[F] tell my boyfriend of three years 26[M] that my internship is being extended from 10 weeks to 6 months.

I have an internship this summer at a national lab and I am in grad school. The work that I need to do at this internship is my thesis work and I need to have it done there since the instrumentation is unavailable at my university. To get this work done they are extended my appointment from 10 weeks to 6 months. Te national lab is on the west coast and we live on the east coast USA. I cant muster up the courage to tell him because I think he will get really angry and argumentative and maybe try to persuade me not to go by telling me that I have a choice. Please help. Also, my grad school life here is pretty miserable because I have a toxic, demeaning advisor. This internship will really give me the push to graduate.
TL;DR how to tell my boyfriend that my internship is being extended from 10 wks to 6 months
submitted by redlampshades to relationships [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:06 Andy-Bara I got me and my friend scammed out of 350 $ dollars each and I don't know what I should do ?

I'm (20) f and the artist/manager is (32) m
I'm going to keep it as short as possible. My friend and I have been working on a game for a couple of months. The game has been going well. We wanted to add something special by having our own backgrounds for it. While looking around for a background artist I found out back in december that a manager at the place I worked was an artist. So after looking him up on Instagram and checking that we both liked his arts we decided to pay him to make some for us. He gave me a discount and in total we paid 700 $ for 7 backgrounds (which I thought was a great deal) This is a big deal especially since we're both students. Anyways everything is fine. A couple months goes by and he sends us the background. They're great. I just asked him to fix a couple things that I didn't like.
An hour ago I was scrolling on Reddit when I came across a background I know a bit too well. Turns out it was mine… I was speechless. I decided to reverse search the image on Pinterest and guess what… All seven backgrounds already exist. All he did was make them a little darker and add some lines here and there. I have no idea what to do or even say. There was no contract or anything signed. (We just shook hands) He already quit but sometimes comes back to say hello to the team.
My question is what should I do ? I don't even know how to tell my friend. Do you think there's even a possibility to get the money back ?
submitted by Andy-Bara to Advice [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:05 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Gameplay Mechanics: What New Features Could Be Introduced?

With each new installment in the Grand Theft Auto series, Rockstar Games has introduced new gameplay mechanics to keep the franchise fresh and exciting. Here are some possible new features that could be introduced in GTA 6:
Enhanced AI: One of the biggest criticisms of the previous games is that the AI is often too predictable. In GTA 6, we could see more advanced AI that reacts to the player's actions in a more realistic way.
More realistic physics: The physics engine in GTA 5 was already impressive, but there is always room for improvement. We could see more realistic physics in GTA 6 that affect both the player and the environment.
More dynamic weather: GTA 5 had some dynamic weather effects, but they were fairly limited. In GTA 6, we could see a more dynamic weather system that affects the gameplay in more meaningful ways.
Seamless transitions: In previous games, there was often a loading screen when transitioning from one area to another. In GTA 6, we could see more seamless transitions between different areas of the game world.
New minigames: GTA 5 had a variety of fun minigames, such as tennis and golf, but there is always room for more. We could see new minigames in GTA 6 that are even more varied and engaging.
Improved driving mechanics: While the driving mechanics in GTA 5 were already pretty solid, there is always room for improvement. In GTA 6, we could see more realistic driving physics and more customizable vehicles.
Better stealth mechanics: Stealth has never been a strong point of the GTA series, but that could change with GTA 6. We could see more advanced stealth mechanics that allow players to approach missions in different ways.
Dynamic NPC behavior: In previous games, NPCs often had set patterns of behavior that could be easily predicted. In GTA 6, we could see more dynamic NPC behavior that makes the game world feel more alive.
More varied missions: While GTA 5 had a wide variety of missions, some players felt that they were too similar to each other. In GTA 6, we could see even more varied missions that keep the gameplay fresh and exciting.
VR support: With the increasing popularity of virtual reality, it's possible that GTA 6 could include support for VR headsets. This would allow players to fully immerse themselves in the game world and experience it in a whole new way.
GTA 5 Modder 👑 Buy gta 5 accounts http://Furymodz.com // Fortnite // GTA 5 Accounts, Mods 💎 Creator on Patreon: http://patreon.com/furymodz 🎪
submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5moddedoutfits_ [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:03 yeetusthatfeetus6-9 Loaded into my game, and i could only access my naval fleet. I can still make decisions, research, etc. Any way to fix?

Loaded into my game, and i could only access my naval fleet. I can still make decisions, research, etc. Any way to fix? submitted by yeetusthatfeetus6-9 to hoi4 [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:03 ccrom Stable Genius treated his Covid with "medicines the government doesn't want us to have".

Stable Genius treated his Covid with submitted by ccrom to HermanCainAward [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:02 Soft-Anteater-5468 Late career start

Late start to career
Hey, everyone! I graduated high school in 2017 and bounced between serval majors until I finally decided to chose computer science. I am currently 23 years old and about to turn 24 in a few months. I can’t help feel that I’m turning older and I haven’t even graduated college. I am to graduate in December 2024. I still live with my parents and despite them being nice (overall), they make comments about how I have wasted so much money and years (3 years) and would have a late career start. I feel like it’s eating me alive and I feel so anxious all the time. I regret not choosing and CS earlier and if I did, I would’ve graduated in 2021 or 2022 (if I failed anything). Can anyone offer words of advice? I feel like crying. Thanks in advance!
submitted by Soft-Anteater-5468 to csMajors [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:02 DGenerationMC Fixing Superman Returns

Superman Retuns was a misfire. Coming at a time when comic book movie audiences were wanting to look forward and reinvent rather than look back and reminiscence, the return to the Donnerverse was not needed nor apparently greatly desired. The film has been referred to as bland and boring, to which I agree but my solution isn't simply "more action." I feel the overall issue is much larger and I'll break it down here.

Casting

Have Parker Posey and Kate Bosworth switch roles. There's your homage to Donner: the Routh/Posey age difference matches up with the Reeve/Kidder one, not to much Posey is more Lois-esque while Bosworth being a young, pretty face matches up with Lex having a ditzy henchwoman he can manipulate as Kitty.

The Journey Back (From) Home

Oddly enough, the Superman Returns video game had a more interesting story than the film by simply adding extra narrative parts and layers. So, we'll start with the beginning where Superman literally returns from his 5-year pilgrimage to the remains of Krypton. The film shows Clark crashing landing back on Earth in Smallville right outside the Kent home. I'd love to stretch out this return by focusing more on what Superman did while in space. Not necessarily what he sees of Krypton but a detour he's forced to take on his way back to..................WAR WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!
In the game, Mongul finds Superman's ship in space, takes him captive and forces him to fight on War World. Of course, Supes makes it through with ease and gains freedom by defeating Mongul. So, we'll carry that over for the sake of action but also narratively to show a consequence of Kal-El leaving Earth as there are other beings in the galaxy that want the Kryptonian but could potentially also find their way to Earth for trouble. Movie starts with a bang and some intrigue before settling down for the Clark/Martha reunion. All this can be spliced with what Lex was up to during the 5 years.

A Not So Welcome Back

To me, Superman's return to civilization was a little too easy and clean. He got his job back at the Daily Planet and citizens are happy. Yeah, Lois isn't happy to see him but there's not much struggle outside of that. I love the airplane rescue scene and the only thing I'd change is that the baseball game audience is more annoyed with Superman interrupting the competition. Not so much a hatred or even resentment for leaving but definitely a "we're cool with leaving because we don't need you anymore but you're ruining our entertainment, get lost." Almost as if the people of Earth take Kal-El for granted since he's defeated all the evil available. To them, Superman's return is an unnecessary distraction to the time of peace. And here lies Clark's main obstacle: he no longer fits in. Earth doesn't need him and there's nowhere for him in space to feel at home. Cue the montage of sad Clark walking around Metropolis, realizing it has changed in his absence and everyone's moved on without him. Which leads me to......

Jason

Fans found the inclusion of Superman having a son to be overkill but I do not. I just feel a little too much focus was paid to it and that the subplot was more complicated than it needed to be. Let's just be straight up: Lois should not be with Richard White. She has a 5-year old son, we the audience knows that only Superman could be the father and people in the movie don't bother poking around because Lois is a single mother who happens to be the world's greatest reporter. Case closed. I'm not saying completely remove Richard from the movie but just have him be someone who is romantically pursuing Lois, playing off of the conundrum with Superman's return. To further separate this film from the Donnerverse, let's throw in Lois already knowing that Clark is Superman and that fact being clear between them. Overall, it just helps add to the tension between Clark and Lois while giving additional layers to the relationship with a sense of pre-established history.

Lex's Plan and More Action Physical Threats

The blackout Lex creates keeps it's original purpose of distracting Superman so he can steal some Kryptonite but, to lift from the game, it causes the unexpected consequence of Bizarro being released from whatever prison he was held in. Again, pre-established history and world building plus more action. It's at this point that Supes is at a low point. He's confused at the situation he's in and a bit angry. Bizarro is his chance to let that anger out but also realize it's not a good place to be in. The clone is defeated, civilians are saved from damage made and Kal-El recognizes a flaw (which is insecurity) he has before making strides to correct it when he realizes Bizarro doesn't have to mental capacity to know he's doing wrong. And, thus, Superman spares him and sends him back to prison in a wholesome way.
Fast forward to the third act where Lois (let's leave Jason out to limit the focus and to save the revelation of him having powers for another time) is kidnapped by Lex on his yacht and then the Superman/Lex confrontation on the floating Kryptonite landmass. What I'd add is something to wrap the entire story together. While the remnants of Krypton were real, the possibility of life on side remnants are to be a hoax created by Luthor five years prior. Superman's time away was basically a machination created by Lex to get out of jail, reclaim some wealth and regain power in case Kal-El ever return. Luthor explains all this and then proceeds to kick the ever loving shit out of Superman. As in the movie, Superman survives with the help of both Lois and Richard. And then he saves the day with Lex failing to get away due to Kitty's attack of conscience.

But Wait, There's More!

While in the hospital for his injuries, Superman receives confirmation of his (and our) suspicions that Jason is his son when Lois whispers into his ear. She goes to leave and officially rejects Richard's advances, amicably agreeing to remain friends. Which is a cool thematic thing to do because while Richard is Superman-esque, Lois does not pick to be with him because he doesn't have the duality balance like Clark/Superman has. Anyways, Superman sneaks out of the hospital to visit Jason. But, before he can do that, Mongul arrives on Earth for a rematch. Knowing he has both a son and an entire planet to protect from this invader, Superman shakes off being less than 100%. Yay, more action that is also story driven! Supes wins, Mongul admits defeat and departs with his tail tucked between his legs as Metropolis cheers their hero on. Finally reaching Jason, Kal-El recites Jor-El's speech to him as he sleeps as we end the film on a hopeful note. Superman rediscovers his place on Earth and has someone to share his lineage with while also getting back with the woman he loves as his city finds appreciation for him again. Thus, proving that the world needs Superman, who gets to enjoy feeling needed in both sides of his life.

The Revised Plot

Superman has been missing for five years, since traveling to the location where astronomers believed they had discovered the remains of Krypton. Superman flies to the distant galaxy in the space rocket that his father sent him to Earth in to investigate the ruins of his homeworld and to see if there is anything left. He finds only gigantic, asteroid-sized chunks of kryptonite, pieces of the planet that were irradiated by the supernova that destroyed the great civilization. Superman turns his ship around and heads back to Earth, but along the way he is intercepted by Mongul and forced to compete in gladiatorial combat in Warworld. Mongul first puts him against an elite team of warriors known as the Plahtune, but the Man of Steel easily beats them. Next, Mongul himself steps into the arena to battle Superman. Though he is powerful and possesses great strength, Mongul is still no match for the Last Son of Krypton. At the conclusion of their fight, Superman picks up Mongul and prepares to deliver what would most certainly be a killing strike. Mongul taunts him, "Go on, Superman. You know you want to." Superman then throws Mongul to the floor and states that the fight is over. Superman then finds his ship and sets off for Earth, but Mongul vows that he will find him.
During his absence, Superman's nemesis Lex Luthor was released from prison, married a rich widow to obtain her fortune upon her death, broke into the Fortress of Solitude and stole data crystals. Superman, having failed in his quest to find surviving Kryptonians, returns to Earth and, as Clark Kent, resumes his job at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. He subsequently learns that Lois Lane is being courted by Perry White's nephew Richard, has a five year old son named Jason and won the Pulitzer Prize for her article "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman." Meanwhile, Luthor uses the Kryptonian crystals for an experiment that causes an electromagnetic pulse that leads to power outage on the East Coast releases the genetic creature, Bizarro. The power loss interferes with the flight test of a Space Shuttle to be launched into space from its piggy-back mounting on an airliner, occupied by Lois Lane, who is covering the shuttle story. Clark flies into action as Superman and stops the plane from crashing onto a baseball stadium.
Superman's has difficulty coping with the fact he feels that the world has moved on from him. With Superman distracted by an out-of-control vehicle (a diversion involving Luthor's henchwoman, Kitty Kowalski) and Bizarro’s rampage throughout Metropolis, destroying buildings and attacking citizens, Luthor steals Kryptonite from the Metropolis Museum of Natural History. Though Bizarro is of equal might, Superman is a much more experienced fighter. In the end, Superman defeats Bizarro, but does not kill him because he knows that the poor creature is incapable of understanding his actions.
Perry then assigns Lois to interview Superman while Clark investigates the blackout. Lois sneaks aboard Luthor's yacht and is captured after she decides to hold interest in the blackout story, which she connects to Luthor's experiment. He reveals to her his grand scheme of being behind the hoax of there being signs of life on Krypton and using one of the stolen Kryptonian crystals, which he has combined with the Kryptonite, to grow a new continental landmass in the Northern Atlantic Ocean that will supplant the continental United States and kill millions of innocent people. The crystal begins to create Luthor's new landmass, while Lois attempts to escape but is attacked by a henchman. Meanwhile, Superman is attempting to minimize the destruction in Metropolis caused by the new landmass' growth using his full array of powers, including his strength, freeze breath, and heat vision when Richard arrives in a sea plane to rescue Lois. Superman soon arrives to help and then flies off to find Luthor.
Meeting Luthor, Superman discovers the landmass is filled with Kryptonite, which weakens him to the point that Luthor and his henchmen are able to brutalize and torture him. Superman is stabbed by Luthor with a shard of Kryptonite before he falls into the ocean and is left to drown. Lois makes Richard turn back to rescue Superman, whereupon she removes the Kryptonite from his back. Superman, after regaining his strength from the sun, lifts the landmass after putting layers of earth between him and the Kryptonite. Luthor and Kitty escape in their helicopter; Kitty, unwilling to let millions of people die, tosses away the crystals that Lex stole from the Fortress of Solitude. She and Luthor are stranded on a desert island when their helicopter runs out of fuel. Superman pushes the landmass into space with the crystals trapped on the landmass, but is weakened by the Kryptonite and crashes back to Earth. Doctors remove more Kryptonite from Superman's wound, but after it is removed they cannot penetrate his skin with their surgical tools. While Superman remains in a coma, Lois and Jason visit him at the hospital where Lois whispers a secret into Superman's ear and then kisses him. Superman later awakens and flies to visit Jason then an old enemy returns for a rematch. Mongul has followed Superman to Earth. Superman recites his father Jor-El's last speech to Jason as he sleeps and confronts Mongul after once again. The fight is fierce, but as before the Man of Steel emerges victorious. Mongul admits that he is defeated and flees Earth. Lois starts writing another article, titled "Why the World Needs Superman." Superman reassures her that he is now back to stay, resuming their relationship, and flies off to low orbit, where he gazes down at the world once again.
submitted by DGenerationMC to fixingmovies [link] [comments]


2023.03.27 02:02 Soft-Anteater-5468 Late career start

Late start to career
Hey, everyone! I graduated high school in 2017 and bounced between serval majors until I finally decided to chose computer science. I am currently 23 years old and about to turn 24 in a few months. I can’t help feel that I’m turning older and I haven’t even graduated college. I am to graduate in December 2024. I still live with my parents and despite them being nice (overall), they make comments about how I have wasted so much money and years (3 years) and would have a late career start. I feel like it’s eating me alive and I feel so anxious all the time. I regret not choosing and CS earlier and if I did, I would’ve graduated in 2021 or 2022 (if I failed anything). Can anyone offer words of advice? I feel like crying. Thanks in advance!
submitted by Soft-Anteater-5468 to Temple [link] [comments]